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tinisprout · 4 years ago

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No Doubt in Us

Chapter Six (PART 2) - Looking Back to Move Forward (2)

Fiance!Haknyeon x Fem!reader

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

Send me an ask if you want to be put on the taglist for this series

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

CW/TW: talks of an old stalker, harassment, violence (from sangyeon and stalker)

Word count: 4K+

Looking at your Instagram account you regretted your habit of deleting your old posts. The image previews you saw were all unfamiliar. You thought about Chanhee’s words, you wanted more than anything to move on, but you felt the need to defend your way of thinking even if it wasn’t completely right. Maybe looking through these would help you make a decision, so you clicked on the oldest post.

Almost all the posts had mentioned Haknyeon, how you interacted with and talked about him, it was obvious you were head over heels for him, there wasn’t any doubt in your head he felt the same. You felt a lump form in your throat, you seemed very happy with him, so free from the trauma, safe? Chanhee said to believe in the you that chose him, seeing the love you had for him displayed in front of you so plainly, you did trust him so much. It suddenly hit you, finally realizing just how terrible you’ve been to him. You’ve been so selfish not for a second taking into consideration how he’s doing.

You never apologized for what you did at the hospital, just how awful he must have felt in that moment when he was waiting for you so earnestly for you to wake up. The talk you had together, was all one-sided, you didn’t ask what he wanted to do, how he felt about the situation, you just said what you wanted. Even though you don’t know him, he is like a stranger to you, he didn’t deserve to be treated like that. You felt tears plop on your chest, you didn’t know when you started crying.

You felt sorry for Haknyeon and yourself. Hurting him was never your intention, but you were sure that’s exactly what you were doing. Why did you have to lose your memory? You found yourself yearning for that happiness that freedom. You wanted to apologize to him, you wanted to move forward.

Roughly wiping away your tears you calmed yourself down. Chanhee was right, wasn’t he? Even if we don’t stay together, It would be better for me to remember everything. I want to try and take a chance on him again. You thought about how you would apologize to him when he came back.

***

The sound of the door unlocking interrupted your thoughts. You got up from the couch and moved closer to the door. As it opened your eyes met with the back of Haknyeon’s head, facing the person behind him as they pushed him into the house. The person behind him faced you, giving a smile in greeting. This must be Hyunjae.

Seeing this, Haknyeon followed Hyunjae’s eyes turning around almost jumping in surprise. He didn’t expect you to be waiting by the door and he stopped in his tracks. His eyes scanned over you, it had been too long since he got a proper look at you, admittedly that was his fault. He noticed that your eyes seemed to be puffy. Was she crying?

He was brought out of his thoughts when Hyunjae pushed him forward. “I’ve brought Haknyeon as per Chanhee’s request,” Hyunjae said in a tone like he was stating serious orders. It made you smile a little.

“Thank you, Hyunjae.” He nodded back at you.

“I hope you two can... figure things out. Bye.” He waves his hand at you and pats Haknyeon’s back as he leaves.

“Let’s sit down, we need to talk.” Saying this you step out of the way letting him go ahead of you.

“Yes, we do.” Haknyeon sits in the same spot as last time. This time instead of sitting on the couch again you sit on the floor across the coffee table so you both are at eye level.

“I know I was the one that did most of the talking last time, but can I go first again, I need to say something important.”

“Yes, go ahead.” He had some important things to say too, but to him, you were a priority.

“First, I wanted to apologize. I’m sorry for the things I said and did at the hospital. I’m sorry for being selfish,” you clenched your hands together as they rested on the table. “I’m sorry for pushing you away. I’m sorry for not being able to trust you. I’m so sorry for everything I’ve done since I woke up.”

“I need to apologize too. I’m sorry that I left you home this whole time when I could have been helping you. I was selfish, too scared to see you, I’m sorry that I didn’t put you first, considering your situation. I’m sorry that I wasn’t honest with you and didn’t say what I felt.”

“No, but you wouldn’t have done any of that if it weren’t for me.” Your face was full of remorse. Haknyeon put a hand over your clenched ones, pulling you out of your self-loathing. He pulls his hand away after catching your attention.

“Don’t say that y/n. We could play the blame game all day long, but we both did some wrong things, in the end. I think… instead of trying to blame ourselves, we should try and right our wrongs.” You look into his eyes and slowly nod your head, his words giving you the courage to say the rest of what you need to say.

“I’ve told you about my stalker before, haven’t I?” Haknyeon is shocked that you brought up that topic suddenly.

“Yes, a long time ago. But why are you bringing this up, did something happen?” He became a lot more concerned.

“No, thank God. I-I just need to tell you about it.”

“What? I already said you told me, you don’t have to, I know.”

“I know. I’m doing this for me. I think if I don’t talk about it with you, then I won’t be able to move on. Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize for that, just… please, don’t push yourself.” He could tell you were very serious about wanting to tell him. If it was going to help you, he wouldn’t tell you not to do it, but he still didn’t feel good about it. He remembers just how hard it was for you to tell him the first time.

“Mh,” you take a deep breath to calm your nerves, calling these memories to the forefront of your mind. “I had a co-worker I was acquainted with. I would only see him the few times I went to discuss business at my company, we chatted a few times. One day he asked me out on a date and I thought, why not, he doesn’t seem like a bad guy. So we went on a date, it wasn’t too bad, so we went on another.

“After the second date, I realized we wouldn’t be a good fit for each other. So when he asked me on another date I said, no, I didn’t want to string him on when I wasn’t interested anymore. I thought he took the rejection pretty well, soon after I started getting a lot of messages from him. I didn’t think much of it at first cause we had become a little closer, there shouldn’t have been a problem just being friends, but then he started asking questions that were too personal and intrusive. It made me uncomfortable and I asked him to stop, but the same kind of messages kept coming so I blocked him. I didn’t see him again till I came back to the company, but we didn’t talk to each other, so I thought that he was over me and that was the end of it.” You rubbed and squeezed at your hands.

“Just breathe, you’re doing great.” Following his words, you take another deep breath.

“Me and Chanhee’s apartment building wasn’t too far from my company and we didn’t have a car, so I would just walk there. On my way back I felt like someone was looking at me, following me. I thought I was just paranoid, there were so many people on the street at this time there is a lot of people going the same way as me, and I went home without a problem. After that, I would get that feeling a lot when I was outside, but I never noticed anyone out of the ordinary, so I didn’t know if I was just being paranoid. There were times I was so scared I would go into the nearest building and call Chanhee so I wasn’t alone. I stopped going out as often as I did.

“Eventually, a box addressed to me came, inside it was a note that said, ‘let’s meet soon.’ There were also pictures of me walking outside… and one of me and Chanhee talking on the balcony, his face was X-ed out.” Your face twisted as you thought about back then. It wasn’t just you that was in danger, Chanhee was too and you had no idea who you should be looking out for.

“It’s okay, you’re okay, Chanhee is okay. You can stop if it’s too much,” Haknyeon said with concern, he wished he could hold you and comfort you like the first time you told him.

“No, I’m almost done. Chanhee said we should keep it as evidence, take it to the police but we couldn't do anything because we didn't know who it was. When we could, we would go out together to do even the smallest of errands so we wouldn't be alone. One of the days we went out together to buy some stuff from the convenience store, Chanhee was busy that day so it was a little late. We realized we forgot to buy something while on our way back, we were pretty close so we walked back.

“I waited by the corner outside with the bags so we wouldn't look like we were stealing or anything, while Chanhee went back inside. Then I began to feel uncomfortable being out by myself, others were walking out every once in a while but not many. So I decided I would just go in too, but someone pulled me back before too long. It was him, the one I went on a date with. I didn't suspect him at first, but I told him I needed to go.” You closed your eyes, heart-pounding, reliving the moment again.

“He didn't let go, so I said it again, but I was upset that time. He grabbed my face saying that he waited so long to meet me again. I knew this wasn’t some coincidence at this point, that man was the one stalking me, so I tried to retaliate by swinging the bags in my arms at him and yelling. I could only keep him away for a little bit before he got the best of me, taking the bags from me. He pushed and held me against the wall.

“I don’t know exactly what he was planning to do to me, but It was thanks to your friend..., our friend, Sangyeon, that nothing else happened to me. He pulled him off of me and asked if I was okay and if I knew him. All it took was a word from me and Sangyeon decked him." A sneer came to your face thinking about Sangyeon giving that man what he deserved. You found yourself wishing you could have gotten a few hits on the disgusting prick yourself.

Looking at your expression, Haknyeon was a little surprised. Compared to the last time you told him you seemed to be a lot more ticked off and agitated. It was understandable because he felt the same. Haknyeon wasn’t a violent person, but that man would have to count his blessings if Haknyeon ever saw him. He also felt incredibly grateful to Sangyeon again.

"Thank you for telling me again, but why did you feel you needed to tell me specifically?"

"Well, that's part of the second thing I wanted to talk to you about. That whole situation is the reason I was pushing you away, I was scared, I didn't know if I could trust you, I was too afraid to try. I looked through some things and I came to realize that I was in love with you and I trusted you a lot." The words that came out of your mouth were exactly what you thought but saying it that bluntly was a little embarrassing, it was like a confession.

"Mhh." Haknyeon felt a little embarrassed by her words too, covering his mouth with his hand discreetly, he felt a smirk coming to his face.

"Well um, I want to move on, I don't want to be held back by those bad memories. Chanhee said that regardless of what happens in the future it would be best if I could try to remember the things I’ve forgotten. There isn’t much I can do if I don’t remember, but I won’t try to avoid my past anymore. I have a question and I think I already know the answer, but I want to hear you say it, so I know we can do something we both want to try. Haknyeon, do you love me?” Haknyeon shifted in his seat and he put his hand back on the table.

“Yes, I love you.” Your eyes met his steadfast gaze, he was so serious at that moment.

“Then if it’s okay with you, can we try again?”

“Do you mean try dating again?” Haknyeon tilts his head to the side.

“Yes.” Haknyeon laughs a little.

“Ah, that’s what I was going to ask.”

“I can’t promise that I can give you my full trust immediately or that I will fall in love with you again, but I’ll try to be more open with you.”

“y/n you don’t have to push yourself to open your heart to me when you don’t feel ready. We are partners, so we will work together to make this work. I will also work hard to gain your trust and be someone that you can be comfortable around.”

“That’s… right.” You gave a small smile, he really is so kind and understanding of your feelings.

“I love you, but I don’t want my feelings to burden you. If there comes a day when you feel like I’m not right for you anymore…, then just let me know. I won’t try to keep you by my side.”

“... What about you? We are engaged, we had the intention of spending the rest of our lives together. Will you be okay?” He said it with such ease it put a bad taste in your mouth.

“No, I won’t be okay.” Haknyeon’s eye trialed down looking at his hands. “It hurts to even think about you not being with me. But I don’t want you to stay with me because you feel burdened by my feelings, but because you love me. Knowing that you stayed because of guilt or pity, that would hurt more than just letting you go. If being with me only makes you unhappy, you might even come to resent me and that’s the last thing I want.”

His voice had a slight tremble to it. He brought his hands up to cover his eyes, apologizing. You wanted to do something, but you weren’t sure what you could do to comfort him.

“Don’t apologize, I understand. Let’s… just try to live life in the moment and instead of worry about what could happen in the future, we can try to make the best of the present.” Maybe your words were a little hypocritical, but you would try your damndest to live up to them. Haknyeon sniffles and nods at your words, still covering his eyes. He inhales deeply.

“I’m okay I’m okay.” You weren’t sure if he was saying that to you or himself. He rubs at his eyes then pulls his hands away and tries to give you a reassuring smile. This was a truly pitiable man.

“Alright alright, let’s stop being so depressing right now. Um, question. I’ve been wondering how you were able to avoid me so easily?” This is a little more light-hearted, right?

“Oh, well you are a pretty deep sleeper, and I figured out your sleeping schedule a long time ago, well at least when you aren’t working.”

“What about the shower?”

“We have showers at the dance studio, so I would just take a bunch of clothes.”

“So sneaky.” You say playfully while pouting your lips.

“Hey, I’m about as sneaky as you.”

“I feel like that doesn’t really help your case.”

“...Touche. You are pretty sneaky too.”

“Oh my goodness, before I forget! My parents are coming over tomorrow around noon, sorry for not telling you.”

“Oh actually, your mom texted me and told me.” You give him an inquisitive look.

“Are you close with my parents?”

“Not to brag but they kinda love me.” Haknyeon displayed a smug smile on his face.

“Ha, really now? We’ll have to see about that.” You yawned after those words. You weren’t too tired yet, but you figured it’s better to sleep now and wake up early, to get the house in order, for your parents' visit. “I think I’m gonna go crash now. I need to wake up early and clean up the house a little bit before my parents come.”

“I can help you then.” You smiled at the offer.

“Thanks.” You stood up stretching in place, needless to say between the two of you sleeping together in the same bed was a little too intimate, though you still felt bad about making him sleep on the bed all this time. I’ll make it up to him soon! “Also, if you didn’t get to eat yet there are still some leftovers in the fridge.”

“I ate before I got here.” Courtesy of Hyunjae, he thought food would cheer Haknyeon up and give him a little more time to think.

“Mh, Good night then.” You got out of his way so he could take the couch.

“Goodnight, y/n.” You were comforted by the gentle smile he showed you. Maybe we can make this work. You turned your back to him going upstairs to your room. Plopping yourself on the bed, you moved around making yourself comfortable, pulling the blanket over you.

Sleep did not take long to come to you, but it wouldn’t be peaceful.

You jolted awake with a sharp intake of breath. You could only be thankful that the nightmare wasn’t related to that incident. Fully awake now you felt hyper-aware of everything. The hum of the a/c and rustling of the leaves blowing in the wind, the shadows that danced across the room walls from the window, and how small you felt in this big bed.

You check your phone for the time, 1:26 a.m., and decided that you couldn’t sleep up here tonight. Sitting up and moved closer to the big window, looking out into the living room where you saw Haknyeon sleeping cramped on the couch. Crawling out of bed you take the comforter and your phone with you. You didn’t have any intention of waking Haknyeon up, seeing and hearing the presence of another person around you was enough to calm you down. You quietly laid the blanket out close to the couch.

Laying in one half you use the other half to cover your body. It wasn’t as comfortable as the bed, but you felt better as you listened to Haknyeon’s soft breathing. You take a deep breath and close your eyes, relaxing, letting yourself slowly fall back to sleep.

***

Haknyeon turned on the couch, well, as much as he could. Moving positions was a hassle and tended to wake him up for a bit. After turning he laid there for a few seconds then let a deep sigh through his nose out, restroom. Shifting up he gets off the couch, eyes almost closed as he tries to make his way to the restroom. He didn’t expect to trip and fall on the ground, completely waking him from his stupor.

“Owww.” A groan came out from the object he tripped on and out popped, y/n’s head from under the blanket, sending a frown to Haknyeon. He squints his eyes trying to focus on you, making sure he isn’t still dreaming. His eyes went wide when he realized you were actually there and he scrambled to his feet, going to your side.

“Oh my God, honey, uh, y/n, I’m sorry!” Well, you were fully up again, and it didn’t feel like you got any more sleep.

“It’s whatever, I’m fine,” you say with a pout. Haknyeon could tell he upset you and he felt terrible. Who wouldn’t be upset about being kicked while sleeping, even if it was an accident? “Are you okay?”

“Huh, oh yeah, I think so.” He smiled apologetically at you. It was an accident so you couldn’t stay mad especially when he looked at you like that.

“Why did you wake up?” Haknyeon wondered why that was important right now, but he still answered you.

“I needed to use the bathroom.”

“Go then.”

“Eh?”

“Go. I’ll still be here when you get back.” You looked like you accepted your fate of getting little sleep tonight. Haknyeon left for the bathroom and you sat up, uncovering yourself. You take the comforter and spread it across the floor. You go to get the pillows left in your room, bringing them downstairs.

The living room still bathed in darkness, you made your way back to the makeshift bed, placing the pillows a reasonable distance from each other. Taking one spot, you lay back down waiting for Haknyeon. When he comes out of the bathroom he sees you laying there looking off to space.

"What's going on? Why did you come down here?" He says as he walks up to your laying body and looks down at you.

"I had a nightmare…"

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No, I'm fine and don't worry it wasn't about that. I was just a little scared to sleep alone after it…" Okay, that was way more embarrassing to say out loud than I thought.

"And what about that?" He points at the pillow next to yours.

"Well, I was hoping that you would keep me company and I figured that the floor would be better than our small couch. You don't have to sleep like a sardine over here." The last part sounded like you were trying to convince him, which sounded a little funny to him.

"Are you sure? This is like the same as sharing a bed isn't it?"

"No, it's not, we're on the floor. Plus my pillow is here and yours is over there, they aren't exactly next to each other." The mental gymnastics you went through to try and differentiate the two. Haknyeon wouldn't argue it if you were comfortable with it.

"Alright, let me get some blankets." Haknyeon goes to the small storage closet and pulls out two blankets. Walking back he takes the spot across from you, handing you a blanket and awkwardly laying down. "Can you not fall asleep?" You both cover yourselves.

"Hmm, I think I was asleep for a while, but then there was the nightmare. After that, it took me a long time to fall asleep. Then you woke me up, but it honestly felt like I didn't even get an extra second of sleep. So, I feel like I'm completely awake right now."

"Sorry."

"It was an accident, I forgive you." You turn your body to the side facing Haknyeon. "Anyways, can we talk for a bit? If you're tired it's fine, we don't have to."

"Lucky you. I also happen to be very awake right now. What did you want to talk about?"

"I don't really know much about you. Tell me about yourself."

"Be more specific."

"Uh, like your favorite color or your hobbies." Haknyeon smiled, these questions were like basic first date questions. He answered your questions thoughtfully, both of you having moments where you went on long tangents, hours passing you both by without notice. The sun starts to peek through the horizon, making the room brighter little by little, going unnoticed as you both happily chat with each other.

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carelessannie · 4 years ago

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maybe it goes like this: tony courts peter (part 8)

Read on A03

Read the Stuckony backstory

Word count: 10.1K

Starker, WinterSpider, SpiderShield, Peter x Clint x OFC

Peter’s POV -> it’s been a rough semester, and pack related stress isn’t making anything easier. Maybe a packmate (or the whole pack) can help him out?

Major warnings: D/S Au, A/B/O Au, explicit d/s abo smut, femdom, edging, face-sitting, come eating, uhhh light CBT and hair pulling, light bondage, subdrop, and non-apologetic long discussions of sex-ed

---

Maybe it goes like this:

There’s only a few weeks until finals, and of course this is when the pack has decided to move forward with officially mating and bonding. It’s not like Peter wants to postpone it, per se— it’s just, there’s so many steps involved with combining packs, and Peter can’t deal with dividing his attention between home and school.

And the lab. Dammit.

Until the end of their lease, his pack is living at their apartment during the week and at Tony’s place over the weekend. The whole upstairs of their house was built with bedroom suites, so each of them not only get a room of their own, but they have also built a makeshift nest upstairs that’s separate from Bucky’s nest downstairs. It’s been an easy transition this way— taking claim of a part of Tony’s home before a more intimate bond takes place— but Peter feels more and more stressed out as the weeks pass.

Currently, he’s staring at a screen in the lab, failing to comprehend any of the information in front of him. Over winter break, Peter was moved to a permanent position in a lab away from Tony. Pepper had insisted on it since they started getting serious, and Peter agreed. It was unprofessional to do that much cuddling at work.

The one downside now is that work has become mind-numbingly boring for most of the day. After this semester, Peter can transfer back to working in chemical engineering, or mechanics. Or even robotics. And after spending the last few months in software development and computer science, Peter is so ready for the change.

He checks the clock for the third time in the last five minutes. Still four o’clock. Still the same information in front of him.

If he squints hard enough, the code on his computer looks like Hieroglyphics.

“To- neeeey,” he whines, turning fully to face the Beta, “thank god, I’m dying. I can’t go on.”

There are a few snickers from other scientists in the lab, but Peter could care less as he watches Tony’s face crumble, “Oh sweet baby, come here,” and he opens his arms, pulling Peter in for a hug.

It only lasts a few moments, but Peter absorbs as much of Tony’s scent as he can while the Beta rocks him back and forth, stroking down his back and kissing whispered reassurances into his hair. He holds onto Tony’s tie, using it as leverage to stand up and nose around his collarbone.

Tony laughs and murmurs, “That tickles, Pete,” but Peter ignores him, dotting small kisses up the side up his neck until he can smell HappyArousedCalm coming off of his Beta.

There’s a hitch in Tony’s breath after Peter nibbles on his pulse point, “Need something from me, Omega?”

Peter hums, even as Tony pulls away slightly, “Yes, Beta,” he pauses as Tony tilts his head expectantly, “I need you to take me home.”

He watches Tony laugh, stepping back and looping an arm over Peter’s shoulders, before calling out to the room, vaguely, “Whoever’s in charge here, I’m taking him home. Because I’m actually in charge here. Okay— have a good weekend, goodbye.”

He’s towed away, barely sparing a second to grab his phone and shut down his station. They practically run out of the building— holding hands and laughing wildly as they throw their jackets into the back of Tony’s car and jump in the front seats.

“So— what are we doing with the long weekend, Tony?”

Tony starts the car, pulling out into the city, “I thought we’d go out for dinner and spend the evening in with our pack— how does that sound?”

“ Ooo,” Peter claps his hands, “that sounds perfect, Tony, oh my goodness. What do you have in mind?”

“How does seafood sound? I have a place I’ve been dying to take you.”

Peter turns, grabbing his boyfriend’s arm, “Where? Tony, where are we going?”

“Nope, not this time,” Tony shakes his head, weak, “it’s gonna be a surprise, dammit.”

“I’ll get it out of you— no secret is safe around me, Tony Stark.”

He winks and blows a kiss when Tony looks over, and the man looks terrified. Peter laughs, pulling a pair of sunglasses out of the center console and reclining back in the seat. It’s a little chilly still in early April, but the change of season means more sun, and the Omega is happy to roll up his dress shirt sleeves and bask in it like a pampered cat.

The drive passes comfortably and Peter adores sitting next to his handsome Beta— the whole world seeing that Tony is spoken for and claimed by the young Omega on his arm. Peter never thought he’d want to be a trophy Omega— and, technically, he isn’t— but something about being pampered and loved by the most powerful man in New York City has him preening where he sits.

He’s thankful the windows are down, or Tony would be able to smell it on him.

They pull around 59th and up to the curb across from Central Park. Tony exits the driver’s side, throws his keys to a waiting driver, and rounds the car to open Peter’s door. He steps out and grabs their jackets from the back seat, handing over Tony’s as the two of them link arms and hop onto the sidewalk.

“Where to, Tony?” he blinks up at his date, smiling innocently.

Tony hums, distracted, “Marea, just through the—”

“— Aha! —”

“— dammit! No! That doesn’t count!”

“Yes it does! I win,” Peter skips forward, doing a little dance in victory.

He feels Tony catch him around the waist, nuzzling into his neck, and knows the Beta is enjoying his HappyOmega scent. The two of them joke and tease for the rest of the walk into the restaurant, but Peter notices something as they walk through the door to be seated.

“Uh, Tony?”

“Yeah, Pete?”

“Where is everyone?” he asks, gesturing around the empty room.

Tony looks around and gives him a suspiciously innocent face, “Well... they may not be open, officially, for another hour.”

He tries to pull them further into the room, but Peter is frozen— speechless.

“Don’t give me that look, baby, I made some calls today and everything’s set, I’m paying for the extra hour, the service and the meals—”

“Tony,”

“— and even extra for the inconvenience, okay? I just wanted to treat you—”

Peter grabs his shirt collar, shutting him up with a kiss. Tony inhales against Peter’s lips and immediately takes control, snaking his hands up into Peter’s hair and pulling gently, tipping his head back to deepen the kiss. Their lips move together, perfectly synchronized, and Peter opens his mouth in an invitation. Tony just chuckles— briefly licking underneath his upper lip before pulling away and looking at Peter with a mixture of awe and amusement.

“You never have to justify treating me, Tony. I feel so special when you do,” Peter reaches up to brush his fingers through Tony’s short hair, feeling safe and warm in his hold.

The older man just grins, eyes bright, and leads them to their seats. Right in the center of the Ravello Room, their table has been set and lit with candles— a bottle of wine is chilling in an ice bath, and the maître d' stands nearby, greeting them and explaining the menu for the afternoon.

When she walks away, Tony reaches over and grabs Peter’s hand. They sit like this through the first two courses, and Peter’s content to share each of them with Tony, even if that means being basically hand fed by his boyfriend.

And it’s pretty hard to hand feed someone oysters.

The food is incredible, though, and their conversation is even better. Peter tries not to complain about work and school, but even when he inevitably does, Tony is patient and listens. He asks questions when necessary, and they even work through a few solutions to tougher problems together.

“I guess... I wish a few of the things with our pack were more definite,” Peter picks at his meal, separating the shrimp from the pasta.

“What do you mean, baby?” Tony asks, reaching over to steal a piece of shrimp.

Peter tries to defend his plate, jabbing at Tony’s hand with his fork, but misses. His pout deepens, “I dunno. I wish it wasn’t still up in the air who’s going to bond. I wish I knew how synchronizing goes, with our heats. I wish there was more communication about sex, and scenes, and who’s comfortable with what. I wish I knew the timeline,” he shakes his head, finally putting his fork down, “I don’t know, Tony, it just feels so out of control most of the time, I don’t know how to handle it.”

“I don’t think you can control it, sweetheart. There are six different people in this pack, and fifteen different individual relationships. Plus, two unique pack dynamics that need to merge. It’s uncomfortable, Petey, and it’s gonna take time.”

“I know that, Tony, it’s just… I’m supposed to be the center of this pack, and some days I don’t even know if you want to bond with me, so how—”

“I do.”

“— am I… what?”

“I do want to bond with you. God, I want nothing more in the world,” Tony reaches up to cup his cheek, “I can’t believe you doubted that, Peter. You know I love you, right?”

“I… I don’t…”

Tony’s eyes start to tear up, and he looks absolutely devastated, “I’m so sorry, baby. Dammit— I love you. I am completely gone on you. Every day I have to stop myself from keeping you all to myself; running away and starting a familial pack, just the two of us. There are so many steps: mating and bonding and collaring and marrying, and Peter— I want them all with you.”

Peter’s vision is blurry, tears falling freely as he frantically tries to wipe them away, “Tony, I— I had no idea. You never… we didn’t… I just assumed that we were getting there, you know? I’ve never been in love before, Tony—”

“It’s okay, Peter, you don’t have to—”

“— but I am in love with you. God, we’re stupid, aren’t we?” both of them laugh, wet and joyful, “everything’s just so confusing right now.”

“I know, baby, I know,” Tony coos, pulling on Peter’s wrist until he’s up, out of his seat, and moving to sit across Tony’s lap. He loves that when he sits like this and curls up, his head fits perfectly under Tony’s chin, and his mate’s arms wrap soundly around his waist.

“Da— Tony,” Peter whines, barely catching the slip up— not time for that conversation yet, Pete— as Tony holds him tighter.

“Need me to help you, baby?” Tony murmurs right next to his ear, making him shiver, “you know, you don’t have to do it all alone.”

“I know— Steve is supposed to help—”

“Not just Steve,” Tony grips his arms, looking him in the eye, “all of us. Especially me. I want to help you. Will you let me?”

It’s a heavy question, Peter knows. He knows that he needs help— but trusting someone else to do the work and do it right… only Clint, Annie and May are close enough for that. And barely so. It takes a lot for Peter to trust, it’s uncomfortable. But if he claims to love Tony—

“Yes, Beta. I need— I need your help.”

The restaurant around them is forgotten as Tony whispers, “Good boy,” and Peter starts to float, only tethered down by the warmth of his mate’s arms, the scent of Cinnamon and smoky Bonfires holding him together.

“Eat this, baby,” and he opens his mouth, biting down obediently. It’s chocolatey and creamy and crunchy— he has to focus on chewing, and Tony’s fingers around his mouth and on his arms are helping to pull him back up. “Stay up for me, Peter. I’m gonna talk and then we’ll have a conversation, baby.”

Peter finds himself switching focus between eating the dessert and following Tony’s story about… his mom? And a secret hideout?

“— mom could never find me, but, I don’t know, I don’t think she ever tried, you know? It wasn’t that hard to find.”

“She probably knew and just wanted you to have a place to yourself,” Peter mumbles into Tony’s neck.

Tony pulls him away, holding him at arm’s length and looking into his eyes for a long moment.

“You up, Pete? Ready to talk?” he asks, and Peter nods, moving to get off Tony’s lap. The older Beta lets him, and Tony stands up to move their chairs closer together. When Peter sits down, Tony immediately takes his hand and continues eating like nothing happened.

“Okay— I’m gonna start. First, we need to talk about your pack Pete. I know Bucky’s gonna want to bond with everyone, he’s told me as much, but especially you and Annie need to decide who you’re bonding with. Have you talked to Steve at all about it?”

“Yes, we’ve been going on dates, and... everything is so natural with Steve, which I guess makes sense since we’re so compatible,” he pauses, thoughtful, “I think I want to bond with everyone, too. I can’t speak for Annie, but I think you and Steve are the only ones who she’s hesitant about.”

“I get that. Have the three of you talked about going to the O clinic?”

Peter gives an affirmative hum, “Yes, but Tony… I don’t think Bucky’s ever been. I mentioned going together, and he looked so confused.”

“Yeah, that sounds about right.” Tony chuckles to himself, eating the last bit of his mousse and wiping his mouth with a napkin, “I’ve never seen him go to an Omega doctor… I think he’s had a semi-permanent suppressant implant since he presented.”

“Well, yes. I do, too, but hasn’t he been sexually active with multiple partners for like… years? You’re saying he’s never had a pregnancy scare? Never had an internal exam or pap—”

“Uh… I don’t—”

“What about an STD test, Tony? Have any of you guys ever been tested? I swear, what on earth were you doing before us—”

“Okay, okay— to be fair, it’s worked so far. And Steve makes us all go to our primary care and the dentist once a year. It’s like… hell week. When all of us have appointments.”

Peter buries his face in his arms, groaning at the utter idiocy of his future bondmates, “Thank god I met you, Tony. You guys are worse than Clint,” he laughs a little bit, picking up his head and glancing over at his properly chastised boyfriend.

Reaching out, he gives Tony a boop on the nose, startling him out of his sad expression, “I’ll talk to Bucky, okay? Annie and I are going to the O clinic next week, and we’ll help him make an appointment. They’re flexible about pack stuff, I think. And… I guess we’ll talk to the doctor about the steps we need to take to bond.”

Tony makes a flicking motion with his hand, and Peter sees the maître d' walk across the room and silently collect the black card Tony hands her.

“Sounds good. Let’s talk about the rest on the way back, okay? I’m gonna call Steve and see if he wants us to pick them up anything to eat.”

While Tony makes the call, Peter thinks through a few of the questions he has. He’s thankful for their overall dynamic and compatibility, but there are so many variables and unspoken limits—

“Tony?” Peter tries to interrupt, tapping on his arm, “hey, Tony? Can I talk to Steve?”

“Yeah, hold on,” Tony responds, turning back to the call, “yeah, Steve? Peter wants to talk to you… okay, okay here he is,” Tony hands over the phone with a brief, “here ya go, baby.”

“Hey, Steve?”

“Hi sweetheart! What’s going on?” Steve sounds like he’s in the car, probably heading home from work.

Peter glances at Tony’s questioning expression before answering Steve, “Nothing bad, Alpha, no worries,” he ducks his head, a little embarrassed at his small smile. The low rumbly voice hasn’t failed to affect him yet, “I’m wondering if we could have a talk tonight. You know, as a pack.”

“Of course, Peter. What do you want to talk about?”

“I think we need to discuss sex,” Peter says, bluntly, and has to keep himself from laughing as Tony’s eyes almost pop out of his head, “specifically, we need to talk about scenes and dynamics— especially before everyone bonds this summer.”

He hears Steve clear his throat before responding, “O— okay, sweetheart. We can do that. Do you feel comfortable leading this conversation tonight?”

“Yes, Alpha, I’d like that.”

“Okay, thank you for bringing this up, Peter. Bucky mentioned something similar this week, but I just haven’t thought too much about it. You’re stepping into this role so beautifully, Peter, and I’m constantly awed by you.”

“Oh— well...” Peter feels his face flame red, and he puts a hand up to hide from Tony, “th— thank you, Alpha.”

Steve laughs— a low, rumbling sound even over the phone, “You deserve it, sweet Omega. Let me talk to Tony, and I’ll see you tonight.”

Peter mumbles his goodbye and basically throws the phone back to Tony, who takes it with a curious look, “What did you say to him, Alpha? He smells so sweet… oh, really? Mhm… I know he is, he’s my soulmate, Steve…”

After that, Peter tunes out the conversation and hides his face in his hands. These doms are really trying to kill him with the constant praise. They haven’t even had a proper scene together— he hasn’t even kissed Steve, for goodness sake— and they are already onto the things that make him tick. Is he really that transparent?

On the way back home, Tony stops briefly to pick up a take-out order of Chinese food. They don’t talk about the pack again— but it’s okay. Peter feels like everything that needs to be said will be brought up tonight.

---

One of his favorite things about their combined pack is spending evenings together. All six packmates sit in the living room, eating take-out and sharing quiet conversation. Every so often, an innocent argument will break out— usually between Tony and Clint— and the volume level will raise. But for the most part, all of them are content to touch, and eat, and snuggle in close stillness.

“Did Bucky pick out these couches?” Annie asks, sitting on the loveseat with Steve while the other four packmates squish together on the larger couch. She keeps grabbing his muscles, and Peter can tell their Alpha loves showing off for the pretty Omega.

Bucky is sitting on the floor, leaning back in between Tony’s legs. Both Betas have an arm around Peter, and he sits in the middle of them on the couch, reaching over every so often to play with Bucky’s hair.

The question makes Bucky look up, jostling the couch behind him and almost overturning Clint’s bowl.

Tony answers first, “Kind of. We all picked out the furniture together, but Bucky did have the final say.”

“Damn right I did,” Bucky says around a mouthful of noodles, “gotta be comfy for the whole pack. Tony wanted these ugly leather things,”

“Hey! They were tasteful—”

“— I’d rather sit on a concrete slab, Tony, they were so bad—”

“Steve, you liked the leather couches, right?” Tony tries to get the Alpha’s support,

“Uh,” Steve looks between his packmates, “I liked them until Bucky vetoed.”

Bucky lets out a whoop! in victory, and both Clint and Annie dissolve into laughter as Tony sinks back into the couch, pulling Peter in close for comfort.

Tony turns to Peter, “You like my couches, don’t you, baby?”

Shifting to face the Beta, Peter makes a small cooing noise while reaching up to stroke his hair, “I love you, Tony— but I’m on Bucky’s side. I like these ones.”

With a gasp, Tony practically dumps Peter off the couch, “Betrayal! My own mate betrays me!”

Bucky finishes pulling him off the couch, hauling the smaller Omega into his lap with a greasy kiss on the cheek. Peter can’t help but giggle as his Beta pouts and lets Clint pull him in for a hug, whispering to Tony that no, leather couches actually sound fuckin’ awesome.

Peter turns sideways, looping his arms around Bucky’s waist and tangling their legs together as Bucky continues to eat. He feels a familiar hand in his hair and hums, happy to have Tony’s touch back, even if it’s reluctant.

After another half an hour, Annie and Steve get up to clear the dishes, talking softly and spending a few extra minutes in the kitchen cleaning up. Peter takes this as his cue to start their conversation. He moves to a large, chaise barrel chair, facing the couches, and waits for everyone to grab their drinks and settle down.

When Steve walks back in the room, Peter extends his hand— an invitation that the Alpha takes and gently rearranges them to sit together on the sofa. He watches as Clint opens his arms and Annie runs to join the rest of the pack on the long couch.

The room gradually quiets down, and Steve clears his throat, getting their attention. Peter gives him a quick peck on the cheek and addresses their pack, “So I realized today, while I was talking to Tony, that we should probably have a serious talk about sex before moving in together and bonding, uh... forever.”

A few of them chuckle, but the room feels uncomfortable. Peter looks to Steve for help,

“Yeah, so it’s gonna be important that we have open communication about this,” Steve continues, “especially ‘cause our separate packs already have established dynamics and such. Uh,” he looks at Peter, shrugging, “maybe it would be easiest to talk now about personal preferences for scenes, and later we can share official limits? I have paperwork!”

Both Bucky and Clint groan— causing Steve to roll his eyes— but Tony interjects, giving Peter a secret wink, “Should we update our existing papers, Steve, or just use the old ones?”

“Probably update them. I assume you guys have your own contracts, right?” he asks, turning to Peter.

“Yes, but it’s mostly non-intimate stuff. We only scene if I really need to go down, and we rarely do intimate scenes,” both Clint and Annie nod in agreement, “Oh! Plus we’ll need to talk about heats, too.”

“Have y’all hadda heat together yet?” Bucky asks, motioning toward Annie and Peter.

Annie answers, “No, we’ve both been on suppressants since before we met. I only had three heats before I went on them.”

“I only had one— I presented late,” Peter adds,

Bucky nods, “Okay, yeah I only had one in high school.”

“And none of you have shared a heat with someone before?” Tony asks, giving Bucky’s shoulders a squeeze.

There’s a resounding no from all the Omegas, and Steve lets out a long exhale, “Are you guys plannin’ on goin’ to the Omega clinic?”

“Yeah,” Annie confirms, “we have an appointment on Monday.”

Peter looks over at Bucky who’s looking back at him with wide, uncertain eyes, “Can you come with us, Bucky? That way we can talk to the doctor together.”

“Yeah, I’ve just… I’ve never—”

“It’s okay,” Peter stops him, “we’ll do it together.”

Tony reaches down and pulls Bucky up by the armpits, earning a squawk of surprise as he’s wrestled into Tony’s lap. Everyone laughs a bit as Bucky struggles and eventually submits to Tony’s hold on his waist, relaxing with a sigh.

The rest of the conversation is awkward, but easy. Each of them talk a little bit about their orientation and what they prefer in their current pack dynamics. For Peter, it’s interesting to hear from his Versatile packmates about their experiences swinging dominant and submissive. Bucky has spent almost six years being Steve’s submissive and three years submitting to both his Alpha and Beta, so it’s uncomfortable and different for him to be dominant in a relationship, since he’s never had to dominante a partner before.

In contrast, both Annie and Clint have experiences swinging both ways in their relationship with each other and with Peter. Clint has reservations about permanently swinging dominant, because of his past with abusive dominants, and similarly doesn’t want to swing permanently submissive. Annie feels comfortable both ways, which is something Peter already knew. She is very vocal about her preferences.

Peter shares about what it’s like to be a SubOmega, and his preferences during a scene— which, at this point, are very few. He lost his virginity to Clint and Annie, and has never taken a knot before. He smells SmugHornyAlpha coming off of Steve after this confession, and giggles slightly as Steve shamefully apologizes.

Steve and Tony both keep their time short. Peter knows a bit about Tony’s past, and knows he’s been in an intimate and unique familial pack before. Steve and Bucky have both been in other relationships, but only Steve was sexually active before they officially got together.

Possibly the most interesting part of the conversation is learning about how Steve and Tony balance being Dominant over the same Submissive.

“I think the most important part is to realize that Dominant, Submissive, or Versatile, the purpose of our orientation is all the same: service to others,” Steve explains, holding Peter tight around the waist, “so whether it’s five Doms and one Sub in a room, or a balanced pairing— Tony, Bucky, and I have all decided to love and serve each other. To put one another first. And because of this, our scenes are always fun and satisfying.”

“Ya soun’ like ‘n infomercial, Stevie,” Bucky mumbles, eyes blinking slowly— dangerously close to sleep.

“Shaddup, jerk— you know it’s true. Our scenes always build trust and support between us. And that’s what I want for our intimate pack.”

A few voices hum their agreement, but with a glance around the room, Peter realizes most of them are falling asleep. He yawns and pulls on Steve’s sleeve, getting his attention.

“Alpha, can we finish this later?”

Steve hums, distracted, and then suddenly focuses, his hum shifting— changing to a deep, rumbling growl. It startles Peter into looking up, and the Alpha’s eyes are half-lidded, dark and intense. Peter’s breath picks up. He watches as Steve moves closer, reeling him in, and leans to press his nose against the base of Peter’s throat.

Peter keens, and lets his body go limp in the strong, safe arms of his Alpha. He feels each of their breaths align, he feels their hearts beat together. He’s not sure what he smells like right now, but assumes it compliments Steve’s ProudContentStrongAlpha scent pretty well.

It doesn’t matter, though, because there’s a cloud at his back.

Gentle fingers run through his hair.

He feels the shuffle of clothes against his skin.

Floating, weightless.

---

It’s light when he wakes up again, surrounded by warmth and the sound of gentle snoring. He knows who he wishes were next to him, breathing into his neck. Drooling down his neck.

“Clint, my god,” Peter pushes at the big Beta, trying to get him to roll over, but only gets a loud snore in response.

He flops back down and tries to scoot the other way, happy to burrow into Annie’s soft curves, trailing his freezing fingertips up her hips and underneath her t-shirt—

She gasps awake, “Peter! Dammit!” and tries to squirm away from him as he cackles, waking Clint up with a snort.

“Wha— what,” Clint flails around, aimless, as Annie shoves Peter his way. One of his arms catches Peter across the back of the head, and the small Omega yelps in pain.

“Ouch, Clint. The hell?”

“Aw, poor baby,” Annie coos, pulling Peter into an octopus embrace and incidentally shoving his face right in between her breasts, “I’ll make it better.”

Mngh mmngh mngghh, Peter tries to beg Annie, and she finally releases him to heave a deep breath of relief, “You trying to kill me, woman?”

“No, Petey, just suffocate you a little bit.” Annie gives him a shark’s grin and starts to crawl towards him on her knees. He retreats, scrambling backwards until his back hits Clint’s chest and the Beta pulls his arms behind his back, holding him still.

Peter struggles, grunting, “Hey! What is this? Let me go, Clint,” but there’s no mercy as Annie finally reaches him, kneeling between his legs and leaning forward to kiss his nose.

“Wanna play, bunny?” she purrs, trailing a finger down his chest, clothed in a loose t-shirt, down to the waistband of his tight, black briefs. He can’t take his eyes off her face, and finds himself nodding in a daze, entranced by her wicked smile.

She looks over his shoulder and tilts her head at Clint, and he stutters, “P— please, Omega,” the desperation in his tone making Peter tremble.

“Good boy, birdy,” Annie mocks him, reaching around Peter to run a hand up Clint’s thigh and settling over his boxers, in between where he’s pressed up against Peter’s ass. She crawls a little closer, grabbing Peter’s chin and tipping his head up to look at her, “gimme a color, little bunny. Want me to make you both feel good— use his body to make you come?”

Peter struggles to blink, and his sight goes crossed for a second as he mewls, “Green, Omega.”

She keeps eye contact with Peter and asks Clint, “How about you, baby bird? Gonna keep you on edge, share your body with our sweet bunny, and control your pleasure. Color?”

Clint is physically shaking behind him, and he barely whispers, “Green, Omega, please,” before Annie is encouraging him to lean back against the headboard, shifting to hold Peter’s arms even further behind his back.

His Omega grabs him around the hips, and uses her knees to keep his legs spread.

“Strip him, birdy.”

The command is sharp and has Clint moving instantly, yanking Peter’s shirt up over his chest, and effortlessly moving his arms and legs to pull the shirt and his briefs off completely. Peter doesn’t have a moment to shy away from his Omega’s stare, because his arms are restrained again and she’s spreading his legs wide.

Clint’s breathing heavy on the back of his neck, and he can feel the Beta’s hardness pressed up against his back through the thin layer of boxer shorts, rutting against him lightly.

It seems that his Omega knows this, because she orders Clint’s clothes off next. Once they’re naked and rearranged to her liking, she runs a finger down Peter’s waist, scratching gently through the sparse hair above his cock, and feels underneath his balls, humming thoughtfully at the mess of slick she finds there.

He squirms as her small fingers trace around his rim, panting and throwing his head back at the tease. He hears her laugh and tries to hide his face in Clint’s neck, instead getting a whiff of HornyDesperateBeta scent from his mate.

His Omega dips the tip of one finger into his hole, up to the first knuckle.

“Play with his little titties, birdy,” she instructs, and immediately Clint readjusts his grip on Peter’s arms so that he can pinch and tug on the smaller man’s nipples.

“Oh, dammit, Omega more, please,” he begs, bucking into the torture across his sensitive chest and grinding down onto the finger inside of him.

“Patient, sweet bunny,” she shushes, pulling her finger out and swiping three of them through the slick leaking out of him. She lifts up her hand, acting surprised, “wow, feeling needy, little bunny rabbit? How about a taste?”

He nods his head yes, opening his mouth wide, but his Omega just shakes her head with a fake, sad pout, “Aw, baby— not for you,” and he watches as she reaches over, and—

— and feeds his slick, finger by finger, into Clint’s open mouth.

“That’s my good baby bird,” she coos, pushing her fingers in and slowly fucking his face with her hand. His eyes close in pleasure as he sucks desperately, eager to get all of Peter’s taste off of her fingers.

Peter whines as Clint pinches his nipple a little too hard, and his Omega turns her attention back to him.

“Hungry, baby bunny? Need something in your mouth?”

“Yes, Omega, please— anything, ‘m so empty—” he begs, and his Omega shushes him.

“Put your fingers in his mouth, birdy. I’m gonna put him on your cock.”

Both of them groan at her words, and he can feel Clint twitch against his back. The Beta reaches up and hooks two fingers into the side of his mouth, pulling slightly and forcing his head to tip backwards. He releases Peter’s arms and uses his left hand to flick across his nipples. Peter grabs at his thighs, desperate for control.

His Omega uses the distraction to work a second finger back into his hole, twisting and scissoring until Peter is grinding down, rhythmically, against her hand. His tiny, Omega cock is rock hard, and Clint has started alternating between flicking his nipples and his cockhead, making him cry out in torment.

She adds a third, and he begs around Clint’s fingers, “Oh— Omega, I can’t, please. Please, I need. I need—”

“Hush, baby bunny,” she shushes him, and Clint pushes his fingers deeper into Peter’s mouth, giving his cock a pinch with his other hand. Their Omega wipes away a few of his tears and pulls her fingers free, “why don’t you lift up, bunny?”

It’s torture. He can barely move, and his arms are trembling where they hold onto Clint’s thighs. After trying twice and failing to pick himself up, tears are flowing freely from his eyes and he looks to his Omega, blubbering, “I— I can’t,” sobs, “O— omega, please, I can’t!”

“Help him, birdy,” she instructs, leaning back to watch as Clint moves his hands down, cups under his ass, and effortlessly lifts him up. He cries harder, humiliated, as he feels Clint’s cock line up with his fluttering, empty hole.

There’s a soft hand on his cheek, and he realizes his Omega is waiting for something. He blinks through his tears, opening and closing his mouth— unsure of what she wants.

He must make a sad noise, because she’s quick to repeat, “It’s ok, Peter. Can you give me a color?”

Oh, okay. “Green, ‘mega,” he slurs, trying to give her a reassuring smile, and hears Clint whisper his agreement.

“Good boys, so good for me. Alright, birdy— you can lower him. Slowly.”

Peter lets his body go limp, helpless, as he’s worked slowly onto Clint’s cock. He feels every inch as his body is split in half for his Omega’s pleasure. For his pleasure.

Clint is shaking and panting, whimpering cries of please, Omega and holy fuck.

After a few long, agonizing moments, Peter is fully settled into Clint’s lap. The Beta is still cursing, and moves his hands from Peter’s hips to underneath his knees, pulling his legs back and exposing him wide.

“Fuck, Petey, how are you so fuckin’ tight, my god,” Clint breaths into his neck, and Peter rests his head back against the larger man’s shoulder, relaxing in his arms.

He feels a hand stroke up his tummy, and across his chest. His arms are moved again and settled onto the top of the headboard with a command of, “hold on tight, bunny.”

All of his focus is on obeying the command, so he almost misses his Omega’s next instructions—

“Baby bunny— you can come as many times as you’d like—”

— Peter whines in relief—

“— and baby bird, you can fuck him now,” Clint sighs, “but don’t you dare come, do you understand me?”

“Fuck, holy shit—” Clint curses, “green, Omega. Green, oh my god.”

The first thrust takes him by surprise. It’s almost like a levee breaks, something that was holding Clint’s hips back, and he pulls Peter up by his knees— like a fucking cocksleeve— and slams him back down on his cock with a howl.

All Peter can do is hold on as Clint begins an unforgiving pace, chasing his own pleasure. He feels the hands on his skin, the praises rolling over him, and he tries to say something but can’t, buried under pleasure and praise and—

— and he almost loses his grip on the headboard as his orgasm shakes through him. His lips open and close in a wordless plea as he clenches down on the thick cock still hammering into his hole, slapping wet against his ass.

His Omega moans her encouragement, “Fuck, baby, so good for me. Come for me baby bunny, so pretty, so good,” and he faintly feels her lips, her tongue, tracing around his cock and cleaning up the clear cum pouring out.

“Shit, Omega, I’m— I’m close, fuck,” Clint curses, still moving inside Peter even as he starts to shake from overstimulation.

“Absolutely not,” their Omega commands, standing up on the bed to move them. Clint drops Peter with a heave, both of them groaning as he bottoms out, and their Omega carefully moves his hands off the headboard, setting them back on Clint’s hips. She looks down into Peter’s eyes and then into Clint’s, “two more orgasms, birdy. Two more times— either me or him— and I’ll let you come.”

She kicks a leg over, stradling Clint’s face, and Peter realizes that at some point she took her panties off but left her shirt on. She’s beautiful, and he tries to say as much. Sadly, it just comes out as a choked gasp.

Clint’s pleas turn into moans as their Omega settles on his face, grinding down against his mouth with a firm grip in his hair. Using him. Clint flails, grabbing at Peter’s knees, and picks up where he left off, lifting him up and dropping him fully onto his cock, over and over.

Peter struggles to keep his eyes open, staring up at the vision of Clint licking, hungry into his Omega, but spiraling quickly, floating higher as he feels his orgasm build again.

Knock, knock.

“Fuck!” his Omega curses, and slaps Clint’s shoulder when he slows his pace, “keep going, they’ll go away.”

Clint hums and picks up his pace when—

Knock, knock, knock.

“Dammit,” their Omega jumps off of Clint’s face and looks into his eyes, “keep fucking him. There’s a reward in it for you if he comes before I get back,” and she jumps off the bed, grabbing a pair of their boxers on the way.

Clint resumes his pace, gathering both of Peter’s legs together in one of his long arms and using his free hand to turn Peter’s face, capturing his lips in a wet, sloppy kiss. Peter can taste their Omega on his lips, and suddenly his orgasm is right there.

“Clin’ oh, uh, uh, ‘m gonna,” he tries to warn, but it more or less comes out as a high pitched squeal.

“Yeah, pretty Omega, come on. Come for me. Come on Peter, give it to me, fuck, you feel so damn good, baby—”

His eyes roll back as the second orgasm overtakes him, shaking through his legs and bursting out of his chest in a desperate wail. Clint’s thrusts slow back down, but he barely feels them. He opens and closes his fingers, trying to hold on, and fails, floating high above his body. Below his body.

There’s a release of pressure.

Warmth shifts from his back to his side.

Small wet noises and low rumbles of begging.

His eyes blink open, soft and slow. He feels light. He feels empty.

As his vision starts to swim into focus, he realizes his Omega has moved him to the side. She’s now riding Clint into the mattress. Hard.

A flash of Clint’s face— it looks like he’s seeing heaven open— and Peter smiles, curling into the Beta’s side and clinging to one of his arms as he floats away again.

---

An hour later, Peter is up and cuddling with his pack. It took awhile to bring him back, but his pack let him float— content to relax in his submission and forget about the hundred other things going wrong outside their bedroom.

Turns out the interruption was Bucky, coming to check on them after hearing a “horrific dying animal noise.”

“Was it the noise I made or the noise Clint made?” Peter asks.

Clint rolls his eyes, and Annie answers, “Clint howled like a fucking Alpha when he dropped you on his cock.”

“Oh my— Annie!” Peter yelps, hiding his face in Clint’s arm as his mate cackles.

“You’re just too delicious, Petey. Couldn’t help myself.”

Peter rolls his eyes, but still nestles closer, “Did you float, Clint?”

“For a bit— definitely not like you did, Pete.”

“Hey,” Annie buts in, “drink this, Peter,” and she presses a bottle against his lips.

He takes a few moments to down the whole thing— he is exceedingly thirsty— before asking, “Did Bucky say anything?”

“No, he brought us water, though. And snacks. And then he ran away.”

Peter yawns and pulls Annie’s arm around him, “I wish he’d stayed to cuddle.”

His packmates snuggle in closer and pull up the blanket, cocooning themselves and drifting off for a nap before starting the day officially. When they wake up around noon, the first thing Annie does is call the Omega clinic to book Bucky an adjoining appointment with theirs.

Monday comes sooner than they expect, and all three Omegas pile into the small clinic for their appointments.

Peter keeps looking up at Bucky. The older Omega has been quiet since they left the house, and it’s starting to get concerning. Annie went into her appointment a few minutes ago, so the two of them are alone in the waiting room. He threads their fingers together, placing a small kiss on the back of his hand.

“Bucky?”

No response.

“Bucky? Buck? James? Jamie?”

At the last one, Bucky blinks a few times and shakes his head.

“Wha… what did you call me?”

“I— I don’t know, I was just trying to get your attention—”

“Only my parents ever called me Jamie,” Bucky says, looking down at Peter with wide eyes.

Peter tries to apologize, stuttering, “I’m so so sorry, Bucky, I swear, I wasn’t trying to—”

“Pete,” Bucky squeezes his hand, “it’s okay, darlin’. I… I enjoyed it, is all.”

“... what?”

Bucky sighs, “Stevie called me Bucky for the first time when we were in middle school, ya know? I’d always been James or Jamie, but hated it when I was little. After that day, I only went by Bucky— I guess that was his claim on me, even back then. But now, it sounds good to be called Jamie by someone I consider home, alright?”

Peter scrubs at the tears forming in his eyes, looking up at Bucky as he asks, “I feel like home?”

“Yeah, Pete, you do. You don’t have to, but I’d love for you to call me Jamie. Damn... okay maybe that’s actually a bad idea, you know what, forget—”

“No, no,” Peter interrupts, “I’d love to call you Jamie. Really. We should… we should spend some time together. Like, alone together.”

Jamie finally smiles at this, nodding along, “I’d love that, Pete. Wanna go away for a weekend, or just spend a few days in my nest and kick everyone else out?”

“Either, but I’d like to do it before… before we have sex together. Or share a heat. I’d like to know you a bit more.”

“So no sex on our weekend away?” Jamie asks, and Peter looks up in surprise— and he’s laughing. Oh.

Peter gives him a light push, “I swear, you’re no better than Clint.”

Both of them end up laughing, leaning against each other and getting dirty looks from a few other patients that they ignore.

Within a few minutes, the nurses call their names and they go back for their appointments. Separately. Everything goes normally for Peter, but he can’t stop worrying about Jamie the whole time. He knows his scent must reek, but the doctor, thankfully, doesn’t comment on it. Once he’s given a clean bill of health, plus a negative pregnancy test, the nurses usher him into a larger exam room where Annie and Jamie sit waiting for him.

They take a few moments to scent each other, holding on tight, before specifically checking in on Jamie. They’re relieved to hear that his STD and pregnancy tests are negative, and all of them share details about their own exams, ultrasounds, and other blood work they had to do.

After a minute, there’s a knock on the door, and an older, female doctor enters the room.

“Hi, I’m Doctor Michaels,” she says sitting in the chair across from where they’re piled on the large exam couch, “I’m told you would like to talk about pack bonding today, correct?”

All of them exchange a look, but stay relatively silent. Great. Perfect time for them to swing submissive.

Doctor Michaels is patient, and Jamie finally speaks up.

“Yeah, Doc. We need’ta know how to bond. We’ve got an Alpha and two Betas at home who we want to bond with, but none of us have any idea what to do.”

She laughs lightly, politely, and Peter gets a whiff of sweet Omega scent from her.

“Here, all three of you take these booklets,” she passes them out, and Peter almost scoffs at the title: How to Make Your Forever, Last.

She continues on, “I’m sure you’ve had conversations with your whole pack about bonding, so the only reminder I’ll give is that a bond, when formed correctly between two consenting parties, will last indefinitely. If any of your bonded pack members were to leave and start a separate, familial pack, the bond you share will still remain and that member would be unable to rebond with another person. Understand?”

All three of them nod their heads affirmative.

“Good, now— are you all living together yet?”

“Yeah,” Jamie answers again, “we have a home and by the summer we’ll be livin' together permanently.”

“Okay, that’s imperative for testing compatibility and establishing territory. You will also need to set rules and guidelines for sexual intimacy, especially regarding gender dynamics and orientations. Speaking of which, do you have designated spaces for nesting and scenes?”

“We do. Right now, we have two nests, two dens, and two separate scene rooms. I think Stevie— that’s our DomAlpha— is plannin’ to build out a main den and the Omegas will rebuild one nest together durin’ a heat or somethin’.”

She hums in acknowledgement and makes a note, “Let’s talk about heats. I see here on your charts that none of you have shared a heat with a partner, is this correct?” they all nod, yes, “The only way a pack can bond is when an Omega mate is in heat. If all six of you are to share a bond, it will be strongest if the Omegas are synched. Have you heard this term before?”

Annie speaks up, “Once or twice. My mom used to talk about it— where Omegas off their suppressants and intimate together will get on the same heat cycle.”

“Right,” the doctor agrees, “you’ll need to go off your suppressants and wait two or three cycles before your bodies officially synch together. I’m going to suggest that each of those heats you spend with each other and try to keep other packmates from interacting unless absolutely necessary. It’s best that your hormones aren’t affected by other mates during this time.”

Jamie makes a small displeased noise, but quickly clears his throat, motioning for her to continue.

The doctor smiles again, “I know, it’ll be hard spending a few heats without your full pack, but truly, it will be for the best if you want to form a strong bond.”

“So,” Peter asks, “what about during the heat that we all have together? When we’re ready to bond— what happens then?”

“Well, it depends. I have to ask— will your bonded pack have a Dominant Alpha and Submissive Omega present?”

Peter nods, “Yes, me and Steve.”

“Okay, that will help the process significantly. You’ve probably already talked about your role as the cornerstone of the pack, but during the bonding process, it is essential that the two of you bond and knot first. It’s going to be hard for the other pack members to refrain from mating during that time, but it will help to establish an order of bonding before the occasion to curb any confusion during the hormone-fueled heats.”

“So, we have to… Steve and I have to bond before anyone else can?” Peter asks, avoiding his packmates’ attention.

“Yes,” the doctor agrees, “the whole pack can be with you, if you desire, but he will have to knot you and both of you exchange a secure bite on the neck before other packmates can join the process.”

The three Omegas shift uncomfortably at the description, and Peter slips his hand into Jamie’s, holding on tight.

“After this, just make sure all of the desired bonds are completed before the end of your shared heat. I assume your Betas know of their ability to satisfy an Omega during heat?”

“Uh…” Peter pauses, looking to Annie and Jamie, but both of them seem confused, “probably not?”

“It’s okay, it’s all in the booklet, too. Betas have the ability to help Omegas in their heats and Alphas in their ruts by simulating biological responses necessary for satisfaction in their partners. For instance— when the three of you enter heat together, your Beta packmates will both be able to knot you temporarily. It’s a shorter duration than an Alpha’s knot and only happens for the heat, but their semen still has calming properties, and under the right circumstances, can help an Omega conceive.”

At this, Jamie makes a sad noise that has both of them turning to him.

“Doc,” he starts, head down and body language tense, “is it true that only the Dominant Alpha and Submissive Omega can pup?”

Peter spins to look at him in surprise. What?

“Yes, after bonding, the cornerstone pair in the pack will undergo a hormonal shift in their reproductive system, creating a symbiosis and making it so that only their systems are compatible. The Alpha’s semen only works on the Omega’s uterus, basically.”

“How… wait, so— my body… what about Steve and Jamie? What about Tony?”

“I can only assume those are your other mates. It will still be possible for the two of you, James and Annie, to be impregnated by either of your Betas should the desire arise. Because of this,” she transitions, ignoring the ShockedDevestatedUpsetOmega scent overtaking the room, “I will still keep all of you on contraceptives unless you are wanting to conceive during your first heat. Is this okay?”

They nod, wordless and still shocked.

“Perfect. And lastly, what is the general timeline for bonding? I need to know in order to schedule appointments to retract the semi-permanent suppressants.”

“It’s,” Jamie clears his throat, “it’s as soon as possible, I think. We wanna be bonded this summer.”

“Great, then we can remove the suppressants today before you leave. Are there any other questions you may have for me?”

They shake their heads, no, and she excuses herself from the room, promising to send a nurse to complete the procedures.

When the door shuts, the three of them crowd together, hooking their chins over shoulders and shifting into each other’s laps. Peter feels Jamie grip him tight, and looks into his eyes, which are glazed over and blown wide.

He’s dropping, Peter thinks to himself, and he’s dropping dominant.

Because of this, it isn’t surprising that Jamie growls when the nurse enters the room. Peter shushes him, lacing their fingers together, and the nurse waits for their permission before approaching the chair where they sit.

The nurse pulls out a few of the tools, and asks them, “Alright, who wants to go first?”

Jamie growls again, but answers, “I will,” before lifting his shirt, giving her access to his suppressant site.

They watch as she squeezes around his stomach, feeling for the insertion. His face is screwed up in discomfort, breathing heavily.

She finds the site, a small bump underneath his skin that feeds directly into his endocrine system, and squeezes it towards the surface of his skin. Grabbing the syringe, she warns him about the sharp pain and quickly inserts the needle, puncturing the suppressant site, and injecting a clear liquid. Jamie hisses through his teeth, clamping down hard on Peter’s arm, as the nurse changes out her tool and attaches a suction to his stomach, turning on the corresponding machine that starts to massage his skin.

“It’s going to break apart the remaining parts of the suppressant site, and it will be absorbed into your system with little side effects,” she says, turning off the machine and starting to sanitize it again.

“Alright,” she turns back with a new syringe, “who’s next?”

---

“I’m never goin’ back to that damn clinic ever again.”

After their procedures, Jamie had towed both Omegas out of the clinic and back to the car, throwing them in the backseat, buckling their seat belts, and taking off towards their house.

Annie tries to get his attention, “Bucky, we should probably call—”

A deep, feral growl cuts her off, and both Omegas remain silent for the rest of the ride. Peter pulls out his phone and sends a quick text to Steve, letting him know about Jamie’s drop. He also texts Tony and Clint, asking both of them to be ready to help when they get home.

Jamie isn’t driving fast— honestly, he’s probably going under the speed limit— but Peter and Annie are still holding on tight to each other, struggling to keep themselves from dropping submissive as Jamie pumps AggressiveUpsetDistressedOmega scent into the car.

When they pull up, Jamie is immediately around the side of the car, hauling both of them out of the back seat and stalking towards the front door with a low, persistent growl.

Before they even reach the door, Steve steps out with Tony and Clint not too far behind him. Jamie lets out a louder growl, straightening up, shoving both Omegas behind him— facing the Alpha head on. Steve steps closer, meeting his challenge,

“Stand down, Bucky.”

The command washes over all of them, and Peter feels his knees give in, crumpling to the ground. He can’t tear his eyes away from his Alpha— standing in front of Jamie with an expectant look on his face and ordering him to his knees in submission.

He sees Jamie finally collapse, sinking to his knees in front of their Alpha, and then there’s suddenly a set of hands on his shoulders.

“Peter, come with me, baby,” Tony croons into his ear, and he nods his head, letting his Beta scoop him up and carry him away, far away, into the house. They settle onto the nesting couch, and Tony starts to wrap him in blankets, whispering sweet encouragements into his ear that make Peter feel safe and warm.

Distantly, he hears sniffling and crying. Tony takes a moment to help him drink water, and he hums his appreciation.

“Tony?” he whispers, cursing himself quietly for how weak he sounds,

It surprises his boyfriend, though, and he’s immediately shifted to stare deep into his Beta’s eyes, “Yes, baby? Are you okay? What happened?”

He ignores the question for now, “Where’s Annie? And Jamie? Are they okay?”

“Yeah, sweetheart, they’re fine. Steve’s got Bucky in the den and Clint has Annie up in your nest.”

“Oh, okay,” he closes his eyes, “I’m fine, Beta. We had a rough time at the clinic— they gave us a lot of information and then we had a painful procedure to get our suppressants removed— and I think that caused all of us to drop.”

“I can tell, Pete. I’ve never seen Bucky challenge Steve like that before— it was quite a sight.”

Peter sighs, “I think he felt like we were in trouble. I should be with him.”

“No, not right now,” Tony’s tone is firm, “we can talk tonight, but right now he needs to spend time with our Alpha.”

“Beta, I need to talk to you about something,” he whispers, ducking his head to avoid eye contact. Tony grabs his chin, not letting him get away, while motioning for him to continue, “the doctor said… she said I can’t have your pups, Tony.”

His tears start to gather in his eyes, and Tony wipes them away tenderly,

“I know.”

“... you know?”

“Yeah, baby. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier, but we figured it out a few years ago when the boys were courting me.”

“Oh.”

“Don’t— no, I’m really sorry, I really am Peter. I would have told you before we bonded if the doctor hadn’t mentioned it today. Bucky is devastated that he can’t have Steve’s pups—”

“I know—”

“And— oh, okay. So I can assume that’s one of the things that set him off?”

Peter rolls his eyes, “You think, Tony?”

“Damn, okay, I’m really fucking this up,” Tony scrubs his face, “Peter. I’m… you gotta know, baby, that I love you regardless. So does Steve. None of us expect pups from you, and you know that you don’t have to bond with Steve, right?”

“Stop it, Tony. I heard the news and then got my suppressant removed. I made this choice. I’m just pissed that we got so far without anyone bringing it up. I mean— we’re already living here! Dammit Tony, you asked me to trust you and I’m trying.”

“And I know that, sweetheart,” Tony says, caressing a thumb across Peter’s cheek, “I didn’t mean to keep anything from you, Peter. I respect you— you know that, right?”

Peter mirrors his touch, putting his smaller hand on Tony’s cheek, “I know, Tony.”

Tony looks relieved and leans closer. Peter closes his eyes, ready for the kiss—

“Hey— oh, sorry—”

They whip around to see Steve waiting next to their chair, shifting awkwardly where he stands and holding one of his hands behind his back. Peter scans the room, and sees Bucky curled up with Annie and Clint on a nearby couch, watching them intently.

“It’s okay, Alpha, what’s going on?” Peter untangles from Tony’s arms, sitting up straighter to look Steve in the face. Tony rubs his back encouragingly.

Steve looks to Tony, looks behind him towards their pack— all of whom give him a thumbs up— and then slowly gets to both knees, pulling a red, velvet box from behind his back, and opening it to reveal a sparkling, diamond ring.

“I— what?”

“Peter, I realized that I shouldn’t wait to ask you this. You’ve stepped so gracefully into the role we’ve required of you, and it happens to come with a lifelong bond to an Alpha you barely know. I want you to know— I’m falling in love with you. I don’t want our bond to be built out of necessity, I want it to be built out of affection and commitment to each other. I don’t just want forever with this pack— I want forever with you,”

At this, Steve bares his neck in submission and holds out the ring, “Peter Parker: will you be mine? In love, in bond, and in marriage?”

Peter feels Tony’s thumb on his cheek and realizes he’s crying again.

“Y— yes, Steve. I’ll be yours. I’m—” he takes a deep breath, “— I’m falling in love with you, too, Alpha.”

He slides off the couch, joining his Alpha on the floor, and melts into his arms as the room erupts in excited cheers.

With Steve’s ring on his finger and nose in his neck, his problems start to melt away. They’re strong together, they’re right together. And even though his pack won’t make his worries disappear— with all six of them celebrating around him and embracing each other— it seems as though they can face anything, together.

#peter parker #MiGLT #starker #spidershield #winterspider #clint barton #tony stark #d/s fic #smut #fluff #pack dynamics #mcu #ao3 #mood board #might wanna just read this on ao3 tbh #omegaverse

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jeogiyall · 4 years ago

Text

Pas De Deux; H.HJ

Word Count; 9.7k

Genre; Fluff, Childhood Best Friends to Lovers, Reader X Hyunjin

Warnings; Swearing, Suggestive, I would advise against reading if you have abandonment issues? It’s brought up a few times,,

Additional; Featured Chan, Felix, Jisung, and Minho; Ballerina Reader, Dance Partner Hyunjin, Reid once again writing about something that she has no idea how to do, (Sort Of) Slow Burn

A/N; when i tell u guys that i literally have no self control,, THE ORIGINAL DRAFT OF THIS WAS 10.46K ASFDSFS someone save me from myself. i’m sorry if anything’s inaccurate, i haven’t done ballet since i was like five and most of my research is from the unreliable internet,,, so if any ballerinas read this and are repulsed i’m sorry asdfdsa. please leave something nice if you enjoy <3<3<3<3

The last time that you saw Hwang Hyunjin was in fifth grade. You were wrapped up in each other on your front porch, him choking out tears as though it hurt.

“Jinnie!” You cooed while running a hand through his short black hair, “I’m not dying, just going to boarding school!” His cries (along with the ringing guilt in your ears) only grew louder, “You’re really good at dancing, just audition next year!” He shook his head fervently against the crook of your shoulder, wet tears falling onto your skin.

“You know I suck at ballet!” If it weren’t for his palms pulling at his teary cheeks you would’ve giggled, maybe even teased him for the time in class that he almost broke his wrist while warming up at the barre. But he was crying, he was sad, and he was convinced that he’d never see you again. The sight alone was enough to make you pout, which only served to make him cry harder, “You could join my contemporary class for the summer?” He asked with starry, red eyes. It was almost enough to make you say yes.

“You know that I suck at contemporary!” The boy giggled at your counter, a sound that made your heart soar amidst all of the crying.

“Yea, you do...” He brought a hand up to his cheeks, trying desperately to wipe away tears that wouldn’t stop falling, “Just promise that you won’t forget me! I won’t forget you so you can’t forget me!” His pinky finger extended so it was nearly brushing the spot in between your eyebrows, and you were hit by the whispers of your first crush. With the summer days spent riding scooters in your driveway, and the winter ones spent sledding in it. With the long nights spent giggling about nothing underneath a blanket fort, or the endless days spent climbing trees in the bottomless woods behind the boys house. You were hit with the last five years all at once, and you knew instantly that even if he wasn’t standing in front of you with a teary face that you would still promise.

“I promise.” You answered while hooking your pinky in his as if it were a vow.

The school ended up being a perfect fit, your favorite part being the dorm room all to yourself. Even though it was small, and very ugly, it was all yours. Just like the friend group that blossomed out of your first ever co-ed class (which is sadly not a very interesting story. Han Jisung just made you swear to not dislocate his shoulders during partner stretches, and who are you to break a promise? Afterwards you received an invite to sit with him and his friend at lunch, the rest is history. Loud, annoying history.)

Nothing could’ve made it better... Well, nothing except for your sweet friend who had once occupied each thought in your head. Your sweet friend who’s summers were suddenly too full to see you, even for just a day.

Your sweet friend who didn’t keep his promise.

When it was announced that the contemporary and ballet branches of your dance institute would be merging for a year, your mind immediately jumped to Hyunjin. Despite not seeing him for almost six years. He always had such a passion for the style, making you miss out on hours of homework to watch videos of his favorite performers (it’s not like you minded too much, though.)

Han’s, on the other hand, was pure rage. Pure rage which he was letting out from your bed while watching you unpack.

“I just don’t get why they have to take a ballet class too! I have enough trouble getting solos as is.” The boy pouts while resting his head on your orange wood headboard. You’d feel sympathetic if it weren’t for the fact that he was blatantly lying, Han Jisung had gotten nearly every solo since eighth grade. Instead you roll your eyes dramatically and throw him a wadded ball of fabric from your suitcase. Naturally, he screams.

“Shut the fuck up and be helpful.” You scold, earning a childish whine while he sits up to fold the countless leotards.

“Remind me why I missed you?” He grumbles just as your other, much nicer, friend walks into the cramped room.

“Aww, you missed me Sungie?” Felix asks, voice booming deeply through the space. The two of you instantly drop the clothes in your hands and run to the boy, which you should reprimand Jisung for seeing as he just lifted a finger. But you don’t, because Felix is here with more freckles than the last time you saw him and fresh pink hair that’s definitely going to be dyed natural again within the first week.

“Yes.” The energetic boy answers while worming his way into your hug. Felix giggles softly while petting Han’s dark brown hair before pressing noisy kisses all over his cheeks. He pokes Felix’s ribs as retaliation, to which the boy screeches (directly into your ear, might I add,) and it’s back to the normal, loud chaos “I will kill you!”

“Hey! No murder in my room, if you’re gonna do that go in the hallway!” You snap playfully, pushing Jisung away while moving back into the hug, “Help me unpack? Jisung hasn’t done shit.”

“Not fair!” The boy shouts from your bed, which he’s already plopped back down on.

“I’ll help, besides do you even want him folding your clothes?” You look over your shoulder to see Jisung with his hands tangled up in three different leotards, then back to Felix with terrified eyes.

‘No,’ you mouth, eliciting another laugh from your friend. He moves over to the bed as well, then sets Jisungs hands free. The three of you talk mindlessly for hours, rambling on about Felix’s summer home and the month that you and Jisung spent traipsing around the boys hometown.

“How do you feel about the merger?” You ask suddenly, cutting Jisung off in the middle of an embarrassing story about a night spent at his house. Felix sighs deeply while tossing you the rolled leotard (your favorite one, light blue with pearls sewn around the collar,) while Jisung throws a wadded up pair of tights at your face.

“It’s fine I guess, just for a year right?” You shrug while the brunette puts on a grimace, hands suddenly very busy with folding, “They really need that rebuild, building’s falling apart. Ours is way better and we have extra room, so why not share?”

“Tell that to the rat in my mini fridge.” Han grumbles while passing you a pile of black leotards. You laugh and accept, but not before ruffling his stiff hair.

“Okay, I’ll make sure to do that the next time I’m in your room. Are you done bitching now?” The brunette pokes his tongue out at you jokingly, to which you respond with blowing a raspberry, “Felix is right, besides how terrible is it going to be? We’re all dancers right, and stuff like that is meant to be shared. Who are we to say that they can’t come and learn?” The room turns uncomfortably quiet, Jisung gnawing at his lower lip while Felix picks up his phone.

“Damn it!” The Australian exclaims as his screen lights up. You and Han look at him with furrowed eyebrows before he rolls his eyes and brings the phone up in between your faces, “Administration says I have to fix my hair.”

Han doubles over with laughter, knocking the mountain of leotards (followed shortly by himself) onto the floor. You follow his lead, and before you know it the three of you are clutching your sides and wiping away happy tears. Felix’s hands ruffle into your hair with a hum, “Maybe I can try Jisungs color, hmm?” You duck away with a snort.

“No! I draw the line at matching hair!” The brunette defends, hands moving to cover the top of his head. Felix lunges at him, fully ready to engage in a tickle fight. Naturally, Jisung screams as if he’s being murdered. It should be annoying, any other time you would find it annoying. But these are your best friends, one of which you haven’t seen in over a month, and for some odd reason your heart feels so full that it could explode.

“C’mon Lix, I’ll do your hair. What do you think about blonde?”

And even though tomorrow your school is going to be flooded with new people, and your classes full of students who have probably never done more than basic positions, in the moment it feels okay. Because one of your best friends is screaming ‘NO DON’T TOUCH MY HAIR!’ while the other assures him that ‘It’ll probably most likely be okay! Look, she did mine!’ It’s a perfect chaos that you wouldn’t trade for anything.

There have been plenty of strange coincidences in your life. Like how your first dog was named Felix, and it’s now the name of one of your best friends (who’s hair ended up looking perfectly fine, thank you very much.) Or how your usual waiter at the diner in Jisungs hometown ended up being the cousin of your first kiss. Or how your dorm room is the only one on the hall with painted walls, that just so happen to be your favorite color. Plenty of weird things, but none are as weird as this. Because you’re sitting on the floor of your second class of the day, ‘Intro To Pas De Deux,’ and Hwang Hyunjin has just entered through the side door. Two minutes late.

He’s hard to recognize at first, seeing as there’s more than an added foot of height and black hair that’s creeping down the back of his neck, but the more you look the more you recognize. Pillowy lips, full cheeks, a freckle right in the set of his eye bags. You’re not entirely sold until he laughs, a sweet and breathy sound. The laugh that’s always been three seconds away from turning into a wheeze.

“What’s wrong?” Jisung questions while pulling himself up by your hands, eyes following the line that yours draw to Hyunjin, “Do you know him or something?”

You’re about to answer when Hyunjin finally turns around, eyes scanning the room before settling on you. He thinks that you look different, too. Taller and slimmer, everything that used to be squishy replaced with soft muscle. But there’s also the bridge of your nose, your hands that are barely gripping Jisungs, and of course your eyes that are staring at him like it hurts.

“(Y/n?)” He questions, your name falling from his lips as though it’s meant to do so. You nod, mouth falling open dumbly. The boy takes a step forward then freezes.

“Is anyone going to tell me what’s going on? Or at least help me finish stretching?” Jisungs voice reeks of annoyance, you think that if you weren’t in such a state of shock that you’d flick him on the forehead.

“You go to the contemporary school?” Jisung doesn’t take well to being ignored, puffing loudly while scrambling to finish stretching at the barre. Your brain immediately flashes back to Hyunjins second ballet class in third grade, when you were teaching him your favorite warm up stretches. He ended up tangled in between the barre and the wall, which shouldn’t even be possible, but Hyunjin managed.

“Um... Yea.” Every inch of your body is screaming to stand up and engulf him in a hug, but your legs feel like jello. That, and there’s a small feeling of anger rising in your throat, “L-let me help.” He plops down in front of you before you can say yes. You don’t have to though, Hyunjin still knows that you can’t refuse him. You take his hands in yours, definitely ignoring the pink flush to his cheeks, and pull his torso towards you.

“It’s been six years.” The words come out choked, full of the pain from your first summer without him. When you’d spend hours playing out in the sun, knocking on your friends front door every morning. He was never there.

“Sorry.” You want him to show some type of emotion, let you know that he cares. That he’s actually sorry for breaking his promise, “I tried to come and see you in July but you weren’t home.”

“I was at Jisung’s house, we spend the summers together.” If you were more angry and less hurt you would say ‘now that I don’t spend them with you,’ but he’s still Hyunjin. He’s still Hyunjin, and you don’t think that you could handle the way he would frown at your snide remark.

Jisung flashes you a look from his place at the barre that reads ‘Who is this guy and why do you look so sad?’ You let Hyunjin pull you into the stretch while responding with a gaze that says ‘I’ll tell you later.’ Hyunjins grip tightens on your hands as you exhale deeply into the stretch, the light blue fabric of your leotard brushing against the dance studio floor.

“(Y/n,) I-” Maybe it’s the way that he licks his lips before talking, or the fact that he looks so much and so little like your best friend at the same time, or possibly even how you can feel the way that he hugged you at your last meeting sitting on your shoulders like a winter coat, but his hands suddenly feel like fire.

“I have to go!” You exclaim, popping up out of the stretch and onto your feet in one swift motion. The boy looks up at you with puppy dog eyes that spark a feeling so intense in you that you have to look away, “I have to go, I-I’ll um... I’ll see you around.” You dash off to the spot in front of Jisung, silently thanking every star in the sky that Hyunjin doesn’t have a chance to follow you. Because just as soon as you get up someone else sits down and begins to excitedly ask the boy questions (he’s short, with a petite frame and an unfamiliar face. Probably another transfer student.)

“Did he say something to you?” Jisung asks as you jump into your favorite warm up routine. There’s not really a right way to answer, because did he say anything just now? No, but six years ago he said that he’d never forget you. He promised as much, and then spent every moment doing nothing but that. You exhale while your feet continue to move instinctively, a slight sense of peace washing over you at the comfort of a routine.

“We should focus, class is starting soon.” Jisung whines and argues, but you just ignore him. Similarly to how you ignore Hyunjins gaze on you for the rest of the class.

Ignoring Hyunjin is much easier than you anticipated. In class you can distract yourself with Jisung before the teacher comes in, and lunch is fine enough. While he is there, sitting at a table that’s painfully close to yours, he doesn’t try to talk. Or worse, come and snatch up the free seat across from Felix. But no, he does nothing of the sort. Just laughs with his friends and shoots the occasional glance your way (the one composed of sparkly eyes and lips that are a breath away from pouting.)

But then there’s now, standing in the doorway of your stage chemistry class and Hyunjin is all that you can see. Hyunjin, standing in the center of the room and pressing play on the terribly outdated stereo. Hyunjin, running a hand through his raven black hair and inhaling deeply with closed eyes. All you wanted was to get your jacket, but now you have enough Hyunjin for a lifetime.

Loud, bass heavy music swells in the room as he starts to move. At first the movements are jerky, awkward almost. But then the music decrescendos every so softly and he exhales, then proceeds to move as if the dance is being pulled out of him. As if this choreo is the way that he was programmed to move. When the song peaks you swear that you feel tears prickling the back of your eyes, because this is so Hyunjin. The way he’s dancing with every bone in his body, the way his hair is now dripping in sweat and flying all around him, the way his plump lips suck in air. It’s Hyunjin down to the core, and you’ve missed him so much.

When the music dies you clap slowly, causing the boy to shoot up like a frightened cat. He whips around to where you stand, softening like butter when he sees your frame leaned up against the wooden door frame.

“You scared me!” He shrieks, bringing up a hand to clutch his chest. It reminds you of your last Halloween with him, when the two of you got to trick or treat alone. Hyunjin decided that it would be a great idea to go to a fear farm, in which he screeched and clung to you the entire time. It wasn’t even that scary, he’s just a baby.

“Sorry.” You answer, mouth going as dry as the desert, “You, um... You’re really good.” He laughs flatly while moving over to his dance bag to pull out a towel. You watch as he dabs the sweat away, something stupid and needy churning in your stomach. You write it off as hunger.

“Thanks, I still suck at ballet though.” It’s a joke, you know it’s a joke, but something about laughing feels wrong.

“You don’t.” You take a step into the room, wandering over to where your windbreaker is piled on the floor next to the boy, “I’ve seen you in class, and you’re not bad. Just out of practice.” He lets out another flat laugh while dropping the towel, quickly exchanging it with a water bottle.

“Yea, about nine years out of practice. I barely even remember how to do a pirouette.” He’s trying so hard to make you laugh, just like the old days. The growing tension in your shoulders and lump in your throat is preventing that from happening.

“I can teach you.” You offer while shrugging the jacket on. Within seconds he’s babbling out excuses, which you wave off, “Don’t even worry about it, I need to practice anyways.” You bend down to untie your sneakers before moving to the center of the room, Hyunjin following in quick succession, “So you obviously know the proper foot technique, pointed toes only and all of that. And the retire position is just your foot in the notch above your knee.” You demonstrate it in the mirror, and even though he’s far from being a ballerina he’s done enough classes to know that you want him to copy it, “Yea, good. It looks good.”

“Where are my shoulders supposed to be?” He asks shyly, not used to questioning such simple things.

“Back, always back. Now check that your hips aren’t tilted, I-I’ve always been told to imagine that they’re a fruit bowl.” You steal a quick glance at the boy while he’s adjusting, heart fluttering the same way that it did so many years ago, “Okay, now um... Now put your feet into fourth position, just like that yea, then bend your knees and push off from your back leg.” You do the turn, a motion so natural that it might as well be brushing your teeth, “Like that, easy peasy!” The boy scoffs while bringing up his arms the same way that you had yours just seconds ago.

“Yea, easy peasy for you!” A soft giggle falls from your lips, bouncing off the walls of the empty studio (as well as Hyunjins ears.)

“C’mon!” You tease while moving around to face him, a soft smile playing at your lips, “You see me mess up in class all of the time, just go for it. The worst that could happen is being wrong.” He nods, then exhales shakily. When he does the turn it’s a bit wobbly, but definitely not anything worse than what you’ve seen before.

“Oh my god, (Y/n) that was terrible like genuinely awful-” The words feel harsh, but he’s wearing a bright smile and laughing like there’s not a care in the world. You can’t help but laugh too.

“No, no! It was fine!” You assure through a laugh as he gets back into position. From the corner of your eye you see him mouth ‘liar,’ which earns him a harsh flick between the eyes, “Just bring your hips a little more forward like...” It’s instinctual for your hand to fall onto his hipbone, something you’ve done to Felix hundreds of times. The main difference is that when you adjust Felix he usually tells you to fuck off, then softly knees your stomach. When you do it to Hyunjin he audibly chokes and you feel fire ignite beneath your fingertips, “Like this. Now go into fourth and try again, but keep your hips aligned!” The boy nods before sinking into position and pushing up into a flawless turn.

“I did it!” He exclaims, hands flying up like he’s about to hug you, “You were right, you were right I did it!” Something about his wide, excited eyes makes every wall built around your heart crumble into dust. So you accept the hug, once again allowing yourself to fall victim to the sweetness that is Hwang Hyunjin.

“I was what, I was... Did you say right?!” He rolls his eyes at your teasing, trying desperately to pretend like he didn’t miss it. It’s useless, because the way that Hyunjin’s holding you let’s you know that he’s missed you just as much as you have him, “Alright big guy, let me go. I’ve got studying to do and shoes to break in.” He whines lowly, arms trying to grab you as you snake away.

“Can we get dinner together or something?” He begs, hand briefly tangling itself in yours. You fight down the blush rising to your cheeks while pulling your hand away and stuffing it into your pocket.

“Not tonight, you have to keep practicing those pirouettes! But don’t worry, you’ll be seeing more of me... Partner.” Hyunjin smiles widely at your words, realization settling in as quickly as they leave your mouth.

“Do you mean...?”

“Yes,” You exhale, mentally preparing for another bone crushing hug, “I’ll be your partner for class.”

Hyunjins hug is almost nice enough that you forget about how annoying Jisung’s going to be when you tell him.

It turns out that the friends Hyunjin made are almost as amazing as the ones that you did. Everyone was a little awkward when the two groups first merged, specifically Jisung who was still butt hurt about you switching partners. But then Felix got to talking with Chan (the person who’s been mothering your friend ever since he started at the contemporary institute. From the way they talk, Hyunjin would’ve both starved and failed if it weren’t for the older boy,) and suddenly everyone was meeting in your room on Fridays for a weekly game of uno.

“Absolutely not, you’re fucking cheating!” Minho (the other new face from your stage chemistry class,) shouts while pointing a finger across the card pile and into Jisungs face. The boy moves to jokingly bite at it, causing Chan’s eyes to go as wide as the moon.

“No, no, no! No murder, and no biting what the hell!” You snort at your new friends bewildered expression while passing a canned sparkling water to Hyunjin. He accepts with a smile before mouthing ‘they’re insane!’ Felix sees and proceeds to nail him in the face with your favorite throw pillow.

“Says the guy who sleeps in socks-” Hyunjin throws the pillow back harshly, causing Chan to damn near pass out. It’s all that you can do to not roll over with laughter.

“My feet get cold.” He grumbles with a pout that makes both you and Minho coo from your spots beside the boy.

“Okay, okay, Minho just pick up the cards and let’s keep going? I’m about to finish!” The boy grumbles angrily, all ‘stupid card game’ and ‘I don’t wanna pick up twenty cards!’ You lock eyes with Chan from across the card pile, taking brief solace in the presence of someone else with a functioning brain.

“So we all know that (Y/n’)s about to win, and that she’s my best friend and favorite duet partner,” Everyone answers him with an immediate ‘rude,’ which makes a girlish giggle bubble up in your throat, “which is why it makes me so terribly sad to do this.” You watch closely as he dramatically pulls a card from his hand then places it on top of the deck, a fat draw four staring you straight in the eyes. Everyone goes silent while watching your face fall drastically.

“Hwang Hyunjin, I am going to-” The room bursts into chaos before you even finish the sentence. In the end there are about twelve fresh bruises, six entirely hoarse sets of vocal chords, and one demolished dorm room. Just a normal Friday night.

Except for the way that your heart stutters when Hyunjin mouths a simple ‘love you’ over the bustling group. That’s not normal, but you think that you like it.

“Hyunjin, if you keep your hands there I’m going to fall.” You say to your duet partner, whose hands are wandering aimlessly up your torso. They’re supposed to be on your hips, serving as an anchor for your body while it dips towards the ground.

“Sorry, sorry.” The boy mumbles, not entirely meaning it. It’s impossible to be sorry when he can physically feel your heart speed up beneath his hands.

“Try to sound just a little bit less convincing next time, okay?” You shimmy slightly in a futile attempt to move his hands, which only makes him laugh brightly. If it weren’t for your less than ideal position (halfway bent into a split with every ounce of your weight balanced on the tips of your toes,) you would hit him.

“Do you want me to drop you, because I can drop you if it’s what you want-” The teacher snaps her fingers, pulling everyone’s attention out of the various warm up routines and to the front of the room. Hyunjins hands pull away from your torso so quickly that it burns.

“No dropping dance partners on purpose, that’s the first rule of building stage chemistry.” She chastises, eyes brushing briefly over your friend which causes him to turn thirty shades of pink. You giggle quietly to yourself before sticking your tongue out at him, “But of course, you can’t truly start to build a connection until there’s material. So that’s what we’re doing today, I’ve assigned each group with a pas de deux, or ‘dance for two’. Whoever I think shows the most promise within the next week will be given the opportunity to enter in the regional competition.” She says opportunity, but the stern tone of her voice means that whoever she picks will definitely have to do the competition.

Everyone floods to the front of the class before she even finishes, Hyunjin moving to do so as well before you quickly grip his wrist.

“She didn’t say to go yet, and if we want to qualify for that competition we’re going to have to start kissing up now.” You keep your face forward, chin up and shoulders back, but even then you can feel Hyunjins smile, “What?!”

“You want to do the competition?” He sounds hopeful, nearly childlike.

“Of course! That’s like half the reason I go to school here, the competitive atmosphere.” People are starting to settle back into place, your teacher wearing a look of utter annoyance. Hyunjin doesn’t seem to notice, seeing as his mouth keeps moving.

“I’ve only known how to do a pirouette for a month, and I still can’t really get my double. You’d have a better chance with Han, or-” As soon as the teachers back is turned you whip around to your babbling partner, hands planted firmly on his broad shoulders. It takes a second for his eyes to meet yours, but when they do he nearly melts.

“I don’t want to do it with anyone else, I want to do it with you. And just because your double isn’t perfect doesn’t mean that it’s not good so stop stressing.” He looks down for a second, cheeks growing as pink as your shoes. By force of habit you hook a hand beneath the boys chin and force him to look at you, “I mean it.” He swallows harshly, then nods. With a sigh you let go of the boy and return to your previous (assigned) position. Just in time too, seeing as the teacher turns around right as you settle next to the boy.

“You may check your assignments at the end of class, if you haven’t done so already.” You flash a knowing glance to Hyunjin, almost as if to say ‘I told you so.’ He knows better than to argue.

At the end of class you go up to look with Jisung while Hyunjin gathers your things for you, the short brunette babbling excitedly about the previously mentioned regional’s.

“I thought that you don’t do partner work?” You tease lightly while ducking down to look at the list.

“I don’t, but neither does my partner! So we’ll just be okay at...” He bends next to, head full of brown hair hitting you straight in the eyes, “Romeo and Juliet?” You bite down a laugh while pushing the boy away.

“Don’t try to fight it, you’re such a Romeo. Just like I am such a... Lise!” The boys face contorts with jealousy as he ducks back down, once again knocking your heads together.

“You guys got La Fille mal gardee? And the ribbon dance?!” You giggle back a small yes while pinching the boys frowning cheeks, “No fair! Absolutely no fair, I have to do stupid Romeo and Juliet and you got my favorite ballet, no fair!”

“It’s my favorite too!” You defend, which ends up being pointless because both Hyunjin and Jisung chorus back with ‘not true!’

“Your favorite is swan lake.” Hyunjin states while sliding your dance bag onto your shoulder. Maybe it’s the fondness in his action, or the way that he named off your favorite ballet as though it was a fact ingrained into his brain, but your heart swells so large that you swear it could pop like a balloon.

“Okay,” you exhale, hand moving to the spot where his fingers were ghosting just seconds ago, “one of my favorites.”

At your first rehearsal for regionals you and Hyunjin are given the ribbon to use, seeing as it’s literally the ribbon dance. Practicing without it was honestly getting awkward, which is unfortunate seeing as the boy nearly got it taken away within minutes.

“Look (Y/n,) I’m a present!” He had exclaimed, causing you to whip around to the sight of your partner with a pink silk bow tied around his chin.

“Oh no, Hyunjin!” You whispered through a quiet laugh, moving towards him to untie it, “You are so ridiculous!”

“What? Am I not a gift?” He pouted while trying to pull your hands away, which earned him nothing but a harsh smack on the wrist. You slipped it off his face and behind your back just as the teacher walked in the door to give the ‘your ribbon is not a toy,’ talk.

At the second you describe the plot of La Fille mal Gardee, which proves to be slightly (read: very confusing.)

“Wait wait wait, she doesn’t even like the other guy?!” He asks while shaking his head cutely, black hair bouncing along with the motion. If it gets any longer he’s going to have to start putting it up.

“Nope, not one bit.” His eyebrows furrow as he starts to grumble ‘this is kind of stupid,’ earning a giggle and a push to the shoulder, “No it isn’t! It’s funny, and sweet! I really relate to Lise and her... Character arch I guess.”

“Isn’t she the girl who needed guarding or something like that?” His tilts to the side, teeth catching ever so slightly on his puffy pink lips.

“Yea,” You exhale with a quickening heart rate, “something like that.” There’s silence for a minute, nothing but Hyunjin shaking his head and sighing softly.

“That’s not you. No one needs to guard you.” For some reason your brain flashes back to the third summer alone (that awkward stage where you were too old to make new friends and too young to go see Jisung,) when you spent everyday walking through the woods alone. Sometimes you would just walk until the sun went down and your only company was the stars, but most days you would find a new place to sit down and hum out the motifs of your favorite ballets, “No one.”

For a moment you think that he’s right.

The fourth rehearsal (exactly one week after the first) is when you get to a stage kiss in the choreography, your teacher describing the motions along with a recording that’s projecting on the back wall. It starts with the boy pulling in the girl by the ribbon, then swooping down to meet her lips with a smile. Then she twirls away, leaving your skin hot and crawling.

“We’re um... A-are we gonna do that?” Hyunjin asks through a whisper, leaning close enough that you can feel his breath. It’s warm and smells like spearmint.

“We’ll know when we get there I guess, now pay attention!” You push his face away from yours and back to the projection, watching as the couple wraps each other up in the silky ribbon.

When you do finally get there an hour later he looks so nervous that he could puke. Your teacher shouts out the next move, ‘kiss and then twirl away,’ which only adds to the painful drumming of your heart.

“It’s okay, (Y/n,) you don’t have to.” His voice is low, hushed. Almost like he doesn’t want anyone else to hear.

“No, no! It’s okay, I’ll just...” You lean forward as much as you can with the ribbon hugging your waist and press a feather light kiss onto the tip of his nose. The teacher coos, maybe even praises the two of you on the developing stage chemistry. You don’t hear it. You don’t hear anything over the erratic beating of your heart, “I’ll just do that, okay?” He swallows dryly, eyes flashing quickly down to your lips then back up to your sweet gaze.

“Y-yea, perfect.” There’s something building up in the space between your bodies, so thick that you could spread it over toast, “You should twirl away, right?” You nod, wanting desperately to stay. To kiss him in an earth shattering way.

A part of you thinks that you shouldn’t. That Hyunjin has the power to ruin every part of you, and that wanting to give that to him after your hearts already been broken is foolish. But you do, you want to. Because loving Hyunjin feels good enough that the pain doesn’t matter.

After the fifth rehearsal the two of you feel as though you’ve torn every muscle in your body. Your teacher decided within the first twelve minutes that the two of you would benefit from some conditioning, which resulted in you and Hyunjin holding side by side planks (as well as other terrible positions) and muttering curses for a solid hour.

“I’m gonna collapse.” Hyunjin whines, plopping down onto the hardwood floor beside his dance bag. Something that’s probably supposed to be a laugh falls out of your mouth before you pull the water bottle from your bag.

“At least you haven’t been wearing pointe shoes all day.” You groan while moving the bottle to your mouth. A mouthful of water slides down your throat right as the boys face twists into one of horror.

“Oh gosh, oh no I’m so sorry!” You try to wave the black haired boy away, which only makes him feel worse, “No, no! I wanna help let me umm... Come back to my room? I can set up a foot bath with...”

“Epsom salts.” You answer after swallowing another swig of water, “But I have all of the stuff in my room, I can take care of it.” Hyunjin whines again while rolling over onto his stomach and pushing himself into a sitting position. There’s a bead of sweat dripping down the bridge of his nose, something that you shouldn’t focus on. It catches on the tip before falling delicately onto his collar bone.

“I wanna take care of it,” It feels like all of the air has been sucked out of the room, “just... Here, wear my jacket into the building so no one can see that you’re uh... A girl.” You try to argue again, but then your cheeks are squished in between his hand and his eyebrows are furrowed just enough for it to be cute, “Let me take care of you.”

And really, how could you say no to that?

“Hwang Hyunjin, you are my favorite person in the world.” You sigh, feet dipping into the warm cloudy water. He plops down next to you with a laugh and arms full of snacks.

“Can I get that in writing? You know, just to prove it to Jisung.” Laughter bounces off of his dorm walls, filling the boys brain with childhood memories. Like the time that you two were riding scooters in your driveway and just as the sun started to set you skinned your knee. Hyunjin had thought for a minute that the shaking of your shoulders was sobbing, but quickly discovered by a tilt of your chin and hands wrapped around your sides that you were indeed laughing. Beautiful, clear laughter complete with sunshine dripping from your skin. It was the first time he can remember thinking that someone was beautiful.

“Yes!” You exclaim, effectively pulling the boy from his memory, “But only if you give me food.” He giggles tiredly, a sound so sweet that it might as well be honey, and tosses a bag of pita chips your way.

“You don’t even have to ask.”

You’re supposed to go back to your dorm at eleven, thirty minutes after arrival. But then Hyunjin starts talking about anything and everything, ranging from how he met Minho to the old building of his school. The way he chuckles sleepily while reminiscing on water logged ceilings is enough to make you melt.

Somehow your head ends up pulled against his chest, rising and falling with his breaths. There’s an arm tied around your waist like ribbon, lips softly brushing your hairline as he mumbles endlessly about everything, your leg across his lap as though they’re supposed to be.

“What time’s it?” You slur, clenching onto the fabric of his shirt. It smells like spice and fresh pine and Hyunjin. So much like Hyunjin.

“Midnight.” You think to yourself that it’s time to leave, that if any of the staff found out about this you’d be dead. You also think that Hyunjin smells like fresh pine and that he’s holding you in a way that you’ve never been held.

The sound of his even breathing and the weight of his arms on you lulls you to sleep in a matter of minutes.

When you wake up it’s to the obnoxious blaring of Hyunjins alarm. The boy whines lowly before punching it into snooze. It’s enough to make you laugh, then pull your head away from the cradle of his chin.

“C’mon sleepy, it’s time to get up. What do you have for breakfast?” If it weren’t for your hair tickling his cheek or the way your torso writhes beneath his arm he would be annoyed by your chirping voice. After the hundreds of early mornings school has thrown your way you can’t really help but be a morning person.

“More sleep, that’s what I have.” He grumbles as you crack the curtains open, trying desperately to pull the comforter over his eyes.

“You need food to fuel your body Hyunjin-” Before you can finish lecturing him an arm shoots up from beneath the gray blanket, crashing your body onto his with a sleepy groan.

“M’ just kidding.” He pulls you under the blanket with him, mimicking the first time he spent the night at your house. You two stayed up until the sun was rising, hidden away from the world by the fluffy pink comforter of your childhood bedroom, “Protein bars are in the closet and apples’r on top of the mini fridge.

It’d be so easy to skip classes and stay here all day, not a care in the world besides the sweet boy that you’re currently tangled in. A part of you wants to melt away and give in, but a bigger part knows that doing that is a commitment. Like saying that you’re his to hold and break however he pleases. It’s the scariest thought that you’ve had in months.

“W-we should get going. Yea?” The words sound like you’ve been choking on them. A fact that Hyunjin takes notice of, eyes growing sad and attentive as his arms wiggle away from your waist.

“Yea, yea. Minho will be here in ten minutes, we walk to pas de deux together.” Before you can help it your expression turns panicked, eyebrows shooting up as your jaw drops open, “Sorry! He’s not gonna tell anyone or anything I promise!” Something clenches in your chest at the sight of him sitting up in bed, black hair sticking up every way that it can.

“I know he won’t, it’s just...” You look down at your body, clothed with Hyunjins sweatshirt and a pair of his long socks (turns out that he was onto something with the whole ‘sleeping in socks’ thing,) “I don’t want him to get the wrong idea.” His gaze shoots up to meet yours, so soft and relaxed that you could cry.

“Which would be?” There’s a pounding in your ears that’s quickly recognizable as a heartbeat.

“That we’re together.” It’s barely above a whisper, but Hyunjin hears you loud and clear. From the light tremble to the breathy finish, he hears you.

“We could be, if that’s what you want.” He puts a hand on your shoulder, an action familiar enough that it’s normal yet tender enough that your cheeks are flushing pink, “Is that what you want?”

“I-I, um...” Your heart is screaming yes, that you want to be his and only his. That while you aren’t a girl who needs to be guarded, you are a girl who wants to be guarded. Guarded from everything by Hyunjins thin comforter and strong arms.

But then you think about the promise that Hyunjin broke. The promise that he wouldn’t forget you, and then broke less than twenty-four hours later. You think about how badly you’ve wanted to spend the last day of summer with him every year since. Your mouth opens right as a knock sounds against his door, “Can we talk about this later?” Hyunjin nods lightly while getting up to grab two apples off of the top of the mini fridge.

“I’m so sorry for however he reacts.” The boy groans under his breath, offering you a light green apple along with an apologetic smile. You accept, smiling back before popping out of bed to pull your dance bag over your shoulder.

“It can’t be that bad, Minho’s level headed.” If it weren’t for the fact that Hyunjin still has a question lodged in his throat he would’ve laughed.

You’re the one who finally opens the door, interrupting Minho mid-knock. At first he looks aggravated, ready to launch into a long speech about how ‘timeliness is important’ and ‘you always fucking make us late’ but when his eyes meet you his jaw goes slack.

“What the f-”

If the sound of Minho screeching wasn’t telling enough, you were very very wrong.

The next four days are spent dancing around Hyunjins burning question, constantly talking about anything else or switching the topic when it seems like he might bring it up. At first he barely notices, simply assuming that you need time to mull it over, but then Jisung and Chan sit in on a lunchtime rehearsal.

The dance is coming along perfectly, so much so that the boys don’t even notice your hesitations. Hyunjin sees it though. Sees the way that your hands tremble before planting on his shoulders, the way that your face looks sad after pressing the soft kiss onto his nose. While he hasn’t seen you dance as much as Jisung or Felix probably have, he’s still seen enough to know that you’re never like this. Never uncertain.

“What was that about?” The boy asks after the rehearsal, hands crossed against his chest. You’re going to ignore him, focus on nothing other than getting out of your pointe shoes and off to your next class, but then his dark brown eyes catch on yours, “Seriously!”

“What are you talking about?” You respond, fingers working quickly to undo the ribbons around your ankles. A sigh leaves your mouth as one shoe slips off and into your bag, quickly moving to the other one before Hyunjin can continue the questioning.

Turns out that your friend is terrible at picking up on social cues.

“Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about.” Your head is briefly pulled up from the floor as his voice grows impossibly soft, your heartbeat faltering ever so slightly. There’s a quiet goodbye as Jisung and Chan leave the studio, “Y-you scared me.”

“I’m sorry.” You whisper, throwing the second shoe into your bag while a lump takes form in your throat. If he wasn’t your best friend then he would think that you’re just tired, or hungry, or anything other than deflecting. But he is your best friend, who knows that being tired or hungry only makes you sad. Your best friend who knows that you’re deflecting harder than you ever have before.

“It’s okay, just tell me. Please.” His last word is so hushed that you can barely hear it, but it’s there. Light, and airy, and perfectly there, “Is this about what I asked?” Before you can help you’re nodding, once again giving this boy every part of you that can break.

“Yea, kind of.” It feels like your mouth is full of cotton, leaving you uncomfortably hot along with speechless. A loud sigh rings through the studio as Hyunjin slides down to meet your height, hands burying into his raven black hair. The sight takes you back to the last day of fifth grade; you and him holding each other on your front porch as if the world was ending, your hands tangled into his hair.

“Is it because you don’t want to?” There’s his eyes on yours, your chest heaving, and nothing else in the entire universe. Just (Y/n,) the girl who wants to be guarded, and Hyunjin, (Y/n’)s beloved.

“No.”

“Then why didn’t you say yes?” Right now feels like when you’re at a competition, in the middle of a variation that’s been giving you hell since you started working on it. It’s seconds before the hardest part, the one that you’re still not sure of. It’s the adrenaline rushing through your veins and the words ‘now or never’ echoing with each timed exhale.

“Because. How do I know that you won’t forget about me when summer comes?” Your words hit him like a punch to the gut, causing his lips to part and then heave for air.

“I-I never forgot about you.”

“Yes you did!” There are tears prickling the back of your eyelids, which you quickly blink away before continuing, “I waited for you outside your house every day! And then, when you wouldn’t show up, I-I’d spend every day alone. Doing what we used to do together, but by myself! I was all by myself and I missed you so much, Jinnie. So, so much.” He’s going to tell you that you’re wrong. That while all of those things happened, he never ever forgot about you.

But then there’s that old nickname, the one reserved specifically for family and you. He hasn’t heard it in months, and when he finally does it’s rolling out of your mouth like a plea soaked in honey. Something that’s going to stick with him for forever.

“(Y/n,) please-” You’re up and out of the door before he can even finish.

It’s a dreary Friday morning, rain trickling down your window and painting your room a gray shade of blue. With a deep inhale you realize that everything is finally smelling like fall, which only solidifies the fact that you never want to get out of bed. Unfortunately you have a class in half an hour that you do kind of need to go to.

But it’s not too terrible. Maybe if you were getting up to go take a math class, or run a marathon, but you aren’t. You’re getting up to go to ballet class, and you can wear your favorite leotard again (the light blue one, with pearls sewn around the collar,) and the rain outside is heavy enough to be calming but light enough that you can fend it off with an umbrella. The only thing that could make this morning any better is your favorite childhood breakfast, honey nut cheerios with strawberry milk.

Which is, oddly enough, sitting outside of your door when you open it to head off to the dining hall. A gallon sized jug of bright pink milk next to a family size box of your favorite cereal, just sitting in the middle of the hallway with a folded piece of paper resting precariously on top. Something about this has Hyunjin written all over it. You lean down to pick up the note, reading it about a thousand times over before rushing back into your room to wolf down the breakfast that you haven’t had in months.

‘(Y/n,)

I never forgot you.

Come to my room tonight after rehearsal. Please.

Sincerely, Hyunjin.’

When you two do the first full run through of the pas de deux that night he holds you extra tight. Maybe because he misses you. Maybe because he thinks that after tonight he’ll never have the chance to do so again.

But when he opens the door to his dorm room you see pink fluffy blankets folded on his bed. On top of them is a basket, filled to the brim with every last one of your favorite things. Strawberries dipped in chocolate like the ones your mother would make on hot summer nights, snickers bars like the ones that you two would share after days spent in your driveway, glass bottled lemonade like you would buy from the stand up the street.

“I may or may not have also bought your favorite movie. Well, if it’s still Barbie And the Twelve Dancing Princesses.” A giggle sounds through the room, bouncing around the walls and then back onto Hyunjins burning cheeks.

“It is, but don’t tell Jisung!” Rain starts to fall again, the soft pitter patter mixing perfectly with the boys soft laugh. His hand grazes briefly against the small of your back as he starts to guide you into the tight room, “I’m serious! Him and Lix will make fun of me!” The pout on your face is enough to melt anyone’s heart, which is why Hyunjin doesn’t even think twice when his knees go weak as jelly.

“My lips are sealed.” He says, walking over the boxy tv (that certainly wasn’t there last week) on his desk and inserting the disc, “Now sit back and enjoy.”

It’s not a hard request to fill, your tired body sinking immediately into the fluffy blankets and mouth watering each time you bite down on a strawberry. Rain continues to patter softly against the window, the sound occasionally being replaced by a loud roll of thunder which makes the boy next to you jump. You had laughed at the action, asking softly if he was scared. It was a rhetorical question, you know fully well that he’s always been scared of thunder.

“No! Yes, shut up.” And if you mind that the boy cuddles softly into your side, one arm wrapped around the curve of your waist while the other holds a chocolate strawberry, you don’t say so.

The two of you stay tangled up in each other like that until the credits roll, Hyunjins breathy sigh hitting your cheek as he shifts to get up. You watch with heartfelt eyes as he crosses the dimly lit room, his black hair briefly sweeping across his eyes. You want to reach up and push it away, but right as you manage to sit up straight he’s done with it and headed back to the bed. With a short laugh you realize that your noses are touching.

“Hi.” The word comes at as a short exhale, leaving a taste on your tongue that’s sweeter than chocolate strawberries.

“Hey.” Your heart flutters at the sound, an exhale laced together with a smile, as his arms return to their previous spot around your waist. There’s probably nothing in the world brighter than the smile he wears for you. Stage lights, the sun, every last star in the sky rolled into one. None of it even comes close to the way that his pink lips stretch perfectly from cheek to cheek, “Do you finally believe me?” He brings up a hand to caress your cheek gently, as though to rub away tears that haven’t fallen.

“Believe wh-”

“Do you believe that I never forgot you? That I never forgot any of you, not even the little things like your favorite color or what you liked to eat for dinner. Maybe I pulled away, but I think it’s because even then I knew how badly losing you would hurt. I-I knew that I never wanted to lose you, which is just what I did...” He swallows harshly, tongue darting out to wet his lower lip, “But I’ll never do it again. I’ll never lose you, and I’ll never forget you a-and... And I don’t want to remember you anymore, (Y/n.) I’m so done with remembering, let’s just be.” There’s something stuck in your throat, but it doesn’t hurt the way that tears do. No, this is a release gathering inside of you. One that’s waiting for you to finally give in.

“Hyunjin,” His fingers cradle the curve of your jaw, sending goosebumps down every inch of your body, “kiss me.” And that’s all the confirmation he needs to brush his lips over yours.

At first it’s gentle, almost questioning. Like he’s asking one last time ‘Is this okay?’ But then your hands tangle in his black hair, the way that they’ve been aching to since you first saw him, and he knows that you’re okay. More than okay, you’re in love. With every muscle in your body, you’re in love.

Hyunjin’s hand that was previously holding your face drops back down to your waist and pulls you in softly. They then travel down to your thighs, eliciting a soft gasp from your lips before he picks you up and guides you onto the bed. Every movement is so perfect yet raw, feeling like the stuff of ballets. Until your back hits an unopened glass bottle of lemonade, that is. The sudden cold is enough to make you jump.

“What?!” Hyunjin questions, eyes shooting as wide as saucers, “Did I hurt you?!” A laugh sounds through the room while your hand detaches from his hair, opting instead to reach around your body and remove the glass bottle that’s poking you in the least conventional way possible.

“No.” You answer through soft giggles, bringing up the bottle to lightly tap his forehead, “There’s just a lemonade poking me in the ass.”

He flushes bright pink before answering with a tiny ‘oh’ and burying his face into the crook of your neck. If you were less malleable you would’ve teased him even more, but then there are warm kisses on your skin and nothing in your head.

“I love you.” He whispers, head slowly moving until his lips are against your jaw. You’re going to answer, really, but then there are soft lips on your chin and a smile ripping through your body, “I love you.”

“M-me too.” You stammer dumbly, body going entirely limp as he (finally) presses another kiss onto your lips. The boy pulls away entirely too soon, but it’s okay. There’s something that you need to finish saying, anyways, “I love you too, Jinnie.”

When you fall asleep that night it’s to the sound of pattering rain, with Hyunjins arms guarding you from the world.

The bus back from regionals is quiet, the few sounds that do come about being Chan and Felix whispering softly or Minho giggling at Jisung snoring. You’re about there too, but who can blame you when Hyunjins hands are buried in your hair (which is both stiff and wavy from a combination of hairspray and braided buns.) If you close your eyes and focus really hard you can even feel the rise and fall of his chest where it’s connected with your back.

“Who’s gonna keep our trophy?” The boy questions, lips moving softly against the shell of your ear. It generates a warm feeling in your gut, one that spreads quickly to your cheeks and ears.

“We’ll trade it off on the weekends. Like divorced soccer parents.” He giggles softly, moving forward to kiss your temple.

“Are you trying to tell me something?” If you were a little bit less tired, or a little bit less in love, then maybe you’d joke back. But you’re wrapped up in him like a ribbon on your waist, foot nudging against a plastic first place trophy while his lips move against you in a way that you could get drunk off of.

“Never.” You answer, hand coming up to wrap around his as if it were a vow, “Never.”

#hwang hyunjin #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin fluff #hyunjin angst #writekpop #admin reid #han jisung #lee felix #bang chan #lee know #stray kids #stray kids fluff #stray kids x reader #this might be one of my favorites yet... i really loved writing all of them #and researching!!

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fluffykitty1999-blog · 4 years ago

Text

Dog of the Military- Chapter 28

Chapter 28- Bits and Pieces

"Home sweet couch." Ed strode into the living room, looking relieved to see Roy's tan sofa looking as inviting as it always had after his stint in the hospital. He was planning on sinking into the cushions and reading the latest alchemy books he'd sent Al to the library to get, but he was stopped when Roy placed a hand on his automail shoulder, guiding him towards the stairs.

"You said I could sleep on the couch once we got home." Ed was close to whining. Still, he followed Roy upstairs without too much complaint.

"What- you got a secret couch in your study that's more comfortable or something?"

"No. I just figured after all that time in a hospital and sleeping on couches you might like to have an actual bed." Roy led him down the hall past the open door of his study, with all it's alluring books. He pushed open the heavy oak door to reveal a small, rather sparse room. Flowered wall paper with dark gray spripes behind it, a small twin bed with blue sheets, a bookcase beside it, and a small desk tucked in the corner greeted them.

"Here we are. Your room." Roy said.

Ed was silent, and Roy frowned.

"I know it's a little plain- it was just my guest room for awhile, the only one who really stayed here was Hughes. We can spruce it up if you want, get pictures on the wall or whatever..."

Ed paused, taking a small step into the room.

"It's perfect like it is." he turned, looking behind him at Roy with uncertainty. "It's really mine?"

Roy nodded. "Might as well be. Whenever you're in Central and not out traveling, you're welcome to crash here. There's a spare house key somewhere, I'll have to see if I can find it for you."

Ed nodded, striding across the room to sit on the bed. Roy had already settled the lone suitcase- the only thing Ed really had besides the clothes on his back- containing all the research he'd saved from the dorm fires- beside the desk, and Ed let out a relaxed sigh, flopping on the bed.

He sat up on his automail elbow. "Do you want rent or anything? Room and board? I got money, research allowance and all..."

"I don't want anything from you, Ed. It's easier this way- we don't have to keep playing phone tag with reports, I get to know you're alive when you come home once every few weeks. Besides- you two are hardly in one place long enough to bother with something like that."

"Yeah. Okay, make sense." Ed flopped back on the bed, letting out a contented sigh.

Roy wondered for the first time- how long had it been since Ed had had something he could really call his won? Something besides a standard military issue dormitory or a generic hotel room. He was uncomfortable with the fact it'd probably been years.

"I'll have dinner ready in about an hour if you feel like eating." Roy figured it'd be best to just let the kid relax.

"Yeah, sounds good. Roy?"

Roy paused and turned back towards the room, not sure what the boy was going to say. "Yeah?"

"Thanks. For everything." Ed's golden eyes were soft and unguarded for once, the normal edge and distrust not present.

"No problem, kid."

LINEBREAK LINEBREAK LINEBREAK LINEBREAK LINEBREAK

"So we need to go to Fisk and check out the stone mentioned in this passage here." Ed finished brightly, looking up from the book he'd been reading and smiling at Alphonse.

"But brother- we need to stay in Central for awhile. The Colonel said so. Something about Colonel Banks still being on the loose. You know he's out to get you."

"Don't worry about me, Al. I'll be fine- the Colonel worries too much."

"I'm not going with you then." Al said, turning up his armored face in distaste.

"What!? But Alphonse..."

"The Colonel says we need to stay put until Banks is caught, so I'm not going anywhere but Central until he is. It's for your own good, Ed."

"But the military is taking forever to catch him! He could be in Drachma by now for all we know! He can;t keep us here forever!" Ed exploded.

Al gave a clunking shrug.

"Fine." Ed seethed, standing up. "If you won't help me look for the stone until Banks is caught, then we'll just have to catch him ourselves."

Behind a rather upscale restaurant, an old man with wiry gray hair and a bottle of liquor sat against the brick wall, gaze empty as he waited beside the dumpster for scraps.

The man merely paused and looked over apathetically when a blonde boy in a red cloak strode over to him.

"Hey hobo Joe, hows it going?"

"I'm still alive, I guess." the man said hoarsely.

"I brought you something." Ed smiled, pulling a brown bag from his coat. Inside were warm cinnamon buns- still sticky. The man took them and started to eat, the warm frosting getting caught in his unkempt beard.

"What are you looking for this time?" the man asked between bites of pastry.

"Colonel Robert Banks."

"Ah, yes. I saw a newspaper about him. Then I used it to line my boots." the old man said with a smile. His gaze searched Ed, who still had his arm in a sling. "Is he the one that busted your other arm?"

"Yeah. The whole military's looking for him. But the military is full of a bunch of jack wads, some know-nothings. You really have time to watch things out here, hobo Joe. So I figured if anybody knew something, it'd be you."

Hobo Joe shrugged. "Heard news of a new rat in the sewers. And there's been some strange foreign people around lately. You know, when most people don't want to be found down here, they go underground."

"Right. Thanks for the tip, old man. Do me a favor- drink some water." Ed frowned, looking at teh liqour bottle the man was holding. "You know that crap dehydrates you."

"Let me prune up and die in peace, shrimp."

Ed scoffed. He would've exploded, but he was running on a tight schedule. He was on his lunch break, and he'd told Roy he was going to visit Hughes afterwards, so he had about three hours, tops, before Roy was going to wonder where he was.

"You can't go after him alone, brother!" Al sounded upset at the notion as Ed found an unused manhole in a dark alley.

"Al- you can't fit. I'm sorry."

"But what if something happens to you down there? You only have one good arm!" Al protested.

"I can still clap even with the sling. And my arm doesn't hurt that bad, anyways." Ed said simply.

"I'll tell the Colonel." Al threatened.

"The whole reason I'm looking for this crazy jerk is so that the Colonel will let us look for the stone, Al! I'm doing this for you!"

"Well I don't like it!"

"Give me an hour, alright!? If I don't check back in, you can go and get Mustang."

"One hour. Not a minute more." Al said flatly.

"Alright then. See you in an hour." And Ed descended the ladder at half his usual speed, due to his flesh arm being stuck in a sling. Still, he didn't fret about it too much.

It took a few moments for his eyes to adjust to the dark. The only sound was running water, running down the main channel, and a few rats scuttling about. Ed was tempted to call out for Banks- he knew the man was looking to settle the score with him- but he paused when the corpse of a drowned rat floated by him on the water.

He might not be alone down here. He was reminded of the man with silver eyes who'd tried to take him at the hospital. Drachmans were probably looking for Banks as well. It was best to just keep his mouth shut and observe.

He walked several blocks underground, watching the dingy brown sewer water float by. He turned down another tunnel- this one was larger, there was more wter flowing. He noticed there was a small empty space, about two feet tall and three feet deep, at the base of the wall. Just big enough for a mini-fridge lying on its side to fit in. though why anyone would have a mini fridge down here, Ed couldn't fathom. It was just the only unit of measure that came to mind.

There was a circular grate at the edge of the tunnel, about fifty feet away. Water flowed between the bars like a waterfall, and the tunnel continued to both the right and left in either direction. Ed was planning on going left. when he reached the T-shaped junction, but he paused when he noticed a figure a mere twenty feet from him.

Whoever it was was dressed in black completely, and there was someone sitting at their feet.

Ed watched the odd, shambling walk as the figure took a few steps towards his tunnel before eh felt the icy fingers of dread gripping his heart. Whoever this was, it wasn't banks, and his palms itched and heart pounded with the need to get far, far away from him.

He turned and ran back down the tunnel towards where he came. He had about thirty seconds before the man turned into the tunnel and saw him. He was grateful for the noise of flowing water covering him as he turned and sprinted back the way he'd came, stumbling and nearly falling, only to notice the small empty compartment right beside him...

He rolled into the small crevice, letting out his breath in slow pants as he tried to calm his hammering heart.

Had he been quick enough? Or had the man already turned into the tunnel and seen him?

He couldn't tell if he was being pursued or not, and he didn't dare peek out and check and risk revealing himself if he hadn't already.

At first, the only thing he could hear was the sound of water pouring down through the grate and into the small channel flowing down the tunnel, and his heartbeat in his own ears. But gradually, as whoever it was approached him, he heard the footsteps increasing in volume. He squeezed his eys shut. He was at a disadvantage- the man could've already seen him, could've been hunting him right now, and he wouldn't have known it. All he could do was wait and pray he hadn't been seen.

He was hunched over on all fours- it was a painfully cramped position, and he scooted himself farther back into the recesses of the small crevice he was in, pressing his automail palm to his flesh hand in the sling. Even if he was caught, he could still manage one good transmutation to defend himself if he needed to.

In the rear corner in front of him, a rat sat, chewing on something it held between its fore paws as it sat on its hind legs. It didn't give him a second glance.

Ed could spend no more time looking at the creature, because the footsteps were right outside, now- he could see the pair of black boots and pants just outside his crevice. The man stopped walking.

Ed's heartbeat was so loud he couldn't hear what the man mumbled to himself, though he heard the familiar flick of a lighter and smelled cigarette smoke, before the man continued on walking. His heart was still racing, even as he listened to the footsteps fading into the distance. He was left alone with the sound of running water from the grate behind him.

Still- he had to wait. He wanted to make sure the man- whoever he was- was long gone before he dared come out.

He counted to 300, willing his purse to stop pounding and his hands to stop shaking.

He tried to focus on whatever was in front of him. The rat in the corner had grown tired of sharing its space with him- it cast whatever it was chewing on at its feet in front of him and scurried out of the small alcove, chattering its teeth as it went.

Ed frowned, something about the object the creature had dropped drawing his attention. It looked like a small stick of some kind, but there was something brightly colored on the end...

He reached forward, picking it up and looking at it.

It was a finger nail. He looked down at the base of what he was holding- a shimmer of ivory bone leered out beneath severed muscle and sinew...

He dropped the finger on instinct, turning his head to the side and vomiting whatever little lunch he'd eaten onto the concrete beside him. He was shaking, choking and retching- he clamped his hand over his mouth, trying to muffle the noise- his heart had begun to pound in his chest again, and he shook both in fear of what he'd found and that he'd be heard, the man would come back.

It was painful to try and hold it back, though- vomit scorched his nostrils and seeped between his fingers, and He stopped trying to muffle it, letting his stomach rebel one last time until he was quietly dry heaving.

When it was over he just laid on the ground, catching his breath and trying to stop his trembling. He needed to move. He needed to get up and get out of here. He was in over his head.

He looked dully forward at the detached human finger, reaching over with his automail hand. He was grateful he couldn't feel the texture of the dead skin on his metal hand, and he picked up the limb and slid it into his pocket. It was evidence, after all.

He took a deep breath, steeling his frayed nerves, and ducked his head out from beneath the alcove, peering around. The man in black was nowhere in sight- he was in the clear. He crawled out like a snake on his belly, hurriedly getting to his feet. He couldn't head back the way he came- that was where the man had been headed. He'd just have to hope that the man didn't go back where he'd already been.

He kept running down the passageway, turning to the left towards where the man had come from. He paused at the mouth of the new tunnel- the person who'd been sitting at the man's feet, back against the wall of the sewer, was still there.

He wasn't sure if they'd seen him, but something about it all seemed off. He approached cautiously- it was a woman, and she was slumped over like she was hurt...

There was blood around her. He'd thought it was water at first, but when he stepped in it and the scent of copper hit him, he knew.

If he hadn't already thrown up, he probably would've by now.

He chin rested on her chest, and he fumbled to pull his flesh arm from the sling, not noticing the pain as he moved his injured arm to place his fingers on her neck, feeling for a pulse. There was none.

She only had nine fingers. And they all sported the same bright purple acrylic nails as the finger in his pocket.

Somehow, he'd sunk to his knees and he was trembling again. He couldn't take her with him- she was dead weight, just a body, logically, he knew that, but her family deserved to see her again, to have a proper burial...

A rat shrieked behind him, and he whirled, startled, scrabbling through the grime on his backside.

What had he come here for again? He didn't know, but his heart thrummed in his throat, and he tried to push himself up with his flesh arm only for a spike of pain to send him crashing back down onto the grimy concrete. He managed to push himself up with his automail arm, though, regained his footing, and he was sprinting, running, running through the tunnels blindly.

He had to get out of here. He had to get out before that man came back or he found another body or something horrible happened.

He nearly ran past the ladder. He came skidding to a stop before the rusted metal loops, frantically climbing them, his boots slipping in the grime he'd acquired while in the sewer.

He wrestled with the manhole cover above, feeling blessed sunlight on his skin. his head and chest free from the underground prison, he breathed the fresh air, trying to calm his dizzying thoughts. He didn't look below him- but a hand grabbed on his flesh leg on the ladder, and he yelped.

He kicked out frantically with his automail leg- there was a crunch, and he scrambled the rest of the way out of the manhole and ran, blindly into the streets. He didn't stop running until he was almost to headquarters.

LINEBREAK LINEBREAK LINEBREAK LINEBREAK LINEBREAK

"Hey Roy- how's it going?"

Roy looked over, baffled, as Hughes plopped his tray down across from his friend in the military mess hall.

"What's with that look? Aren't you glad to see me?" Hughes asked, frowning at Roy's expression.

"You're not in your office."

"No, I'm not. I figured I'd have lunch over here today. IS something wrong?"

"No. But Ed said he was going to visit you after he went out for lunch. That was three hours ago."

"I haven't seen him all day." Hughes frowned, pushing his glasses up on his nose and his tray to the side, standing at the same time Roy did.

"What are you thinking?" Hughes asked as they headed towards the doors.

"I'm thinking he lied to me. He wanted to give me the slip- he's been on a short leash lately with everything going on- he;s probably out investigating by himself." Roy said, tight-lipped. His eyes had gone dark with anger.

"Where do you think he'd go?"

"I'm not sure." Roy palmed the front doors of HQ open, only to be met by the clanging sound of metal armor running up to him.

"Colonel!"

"Alphonse. Where's your brother?" Roy asked, voice cold.

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about. He heard a rumor Colonel Banks was hiding out in the sewers and went down to try and capture him- I tried to tell him not to go alone, but he wouldn't listen. He said he'd check in with me in an hour, but it's been nearly three, and i can't fit through the manhole to look for him myself..." Alphonse was wringing his gauntlets nervously.

Hughes had gone pale. "Roy, the sewers..."

"I know, Hughes." Roy pinched the bridge of his nose. "go get the team- we're sending all our men in."

"Looks like we don't have to. Here comes our rebel without a cause now." Hughes looked into the distance, as did Roy. A signature red figure was bobbing in the distance- stumbling, actually.

Roy broke into a jog, as did Hughes and Alphonse, to meet the boy half way.

Ed was practically shambling, looking behind him frantically at times.

"Fullmetal."

Ed flinched at his tone, but the relief on his face when he saw the Colonel was visible, and his tense shoulders relaxed.

The boy was, quite frankly, a mess. He was drenched from the knees down in grime and filth, sweat and dirt on his face- his white gloves had been soiled, and his hair was starting to escape his braid.

"Colonel."

"You lied, Fullmetal. You lied to me to go off and do something stupid on your own."

"Yeah, I did."

Roy paused. Ed was actually admitting he did something wrong instead of arguing with him. This was new.

"I know it was stupid, and I shouldn't have done it, and I'm sorry, okay? I didn't realize how dumb I was being until it was almost too late."

"Brother, what do you mean it was almost too late!?" Alphonse asked, going ramrod straight in shock.

Roy raked his eyes over the boy, searching him for any sign of injury- but aside from his braced arm, which hung limp at his side, having been freed from his sling, there was nothing obvious.

"I need to talk to you and Hughes, Colonel." Ed admitted, eyes serious. "Alphonse- go upstairs to the office."

"Whatever you need to tell them, Ed, I can hear it too. I'm your brother." Al protested.

"And I'm the military dog!" Ed snapped. Al stepped back, surprised at the outburst. Ed's expression softened. "Sorry, Al. I didn't mean to snap at you like that. It's just... I need to talk to them about something, and it doesn't have anything to do with the stone or our search. Nothing to do with our goal. It's military business- I promised I'd be the one to deal with that, not you."

"I just wanted to help you, Ed. I always want to help."

"I know." Ed stepped forward, resting his automail hand on his brother's chest plate affectionately. "Trust me, Al, I know. I'm sorry I was such a jerk about going off on my own today. I've been so eager to get back to searching for the stone that I've been a little reckless lately. The most help you could be to my right now is to go upstairs and read over the research summary notes I left on my desk. I'll join you to talk about them soon."

"Okay." BONK! Al brought his closed gauntlet down on the top of Ed's head.

"Ow! What was that for, Al!?" Ed protested.

"I was knocking some sense into you. Maybe next time you'll use it instead of being an idiot." Al said simply, before he was turning and striding back into HQ.

Ed sighed, looking up at Roy and Hughes with a tired expression. "You guys gonna chew me out too?"

"Probably. But I'm going to hear what you have to say first. Start talking." Roy crossed his arms over his chest, scrutinizing Ed carefully.

Ed sighed. "So I've been a little stir crazy because I've been cooped up in Central. I want to keep looking for the stone, but you said I'm supposed to stay close by until Banks is apprehended, and I know the Drachmans have something out for me now too, and I figured I'd be able to get back on the move sooner if I went after Banks myself. I heard he was in the sewers from my informant..."

"You have informants now, do you?" Hughes asked, looking amused. "And just who would they be?"

"My sources are none of your business." Ed replied, brows furrowing together. "Anyways, I was in the sewers looking for him. And I ran into someone... I don;t know who it was, but it wasn't Banks. I got this feeling- I don't know what it was, but I got the same feeling right before I lost my leg, so I knew enough to trust it. I hid- whoever he was, he didn't see me. I managed to get to the exit. But... I found some things. Some bad things."

"Like what?" Hughes asked, though he knew it was a loaded question.

"I found a dead body." Ed had stopped walking, his voice barely above a whisper. "I wanted to bring her body back with me. For her family. But I didn't have time- I didn't know when he was coming back. I barely got away as it was, I was climbing out of the manhole when he grabbed my leg and tried to drag me back down..."

"There's more than just Banks in the sewers, Ed. There's rapists and murders and drug addicts down there too." Hughes said quietly.

"Yeah- no kidding. I'm never going back there."

"No, you're not. Because you're now on house arrest- you're to be with me or a member of the team at all times. You're not going out to lunch anymore- you can eat in the mess hall like the rest of us. You'll either be at HQ or at home. Nowhere else. Understood?"

"Yeah, I guess." Ed looked at the ground kicking a stray pebble.

Hughes and Roy exchanged glances. Ed wasn't fighting tooth an nail. The boy was probably really rattled form what he'd experienced- maybe the boy was growing up and realizing it was for his own good. Or maybe he just wasn't in the mood to fight anymore.

"Hughes. I brought back some evidence- it was the only thing I could carry."

Hughes held out his hand expectantly, and Ed fished around in his pocket for a moment before he was depositing it in Hughes palm.

It was only the fact that Hughes and Mustang had been to war and seen carnage far worse that kept both men from visibly reacting.

"Hit the showers and get back to the office. We'll talk more about this later." Roy ordered curtly.

Ed nodded, ducking into HQ and keeping his head down. He'd had enough adventure for one day.

What do you think of our new seiral killer? Also- if you want to leave an encouraging comment or constructive criticism, here’s the obligatory link ;) https://ko-fi.com/fluffykitty12 .

#fma #fma fanfiction #Fullmetal Alchemist #fullmetal alchimist brotherhood #Roy Mustang #edward elric #Parental Roy #parentalroy #whumph #whump #hurt/comfort #hurt #comfort #dogofthemilitary #injury

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mlkincaidbooks · 4 years ago

Note

Hello, Mariah.

I realized that you have left the fandom, and I'm really sorry it has come to this. I personally have read just Cupere from your stories, but I followed you on Twitter because of the amazing author you are and that's how I know how much you enjoyed writing fanfiction.

I'm writing you this to make you reconsider stopping writing your Dramione stories. The fandom has become a very toxic place where recently they have tried to "cancel" several authors —including you, Onyx and Sen— after committing one single mistake and not accepting apologies. I'm so sorry the Dramione community wasn't a safe space for you—because yes, you did wrong, but you apologized and corrected yourself, and you don't deserve to be thrown out of the fandom just because a small group of people say so.

I'm tired of this toxicity to the point I've deleted my social media and started just reading in AO3, and this is why it's heartbreaking that you left, having so many ideas and stories in progress—that the harassment has come to this. Please, Mariah, I'm asking you this as someone who has seen many authors leaving the fandom because a group of people harassed them after making a mistake: please reconsider. Your website is a perfect place to write your stories, where you don't have to deal with immature and resentful people. That's all I'm asking: keep writing your original stories, Dramione stories or Fanfiction in general on your website. You're an amazing author. You don't deserve this.

Thank you so much for being who you are. As I said, I've only read one book of yours, but it has a special spot on my heart, and so do you.

This message made me sob.

First of all, thank you so so much for these words. They mean everything to me and they are going to help me get through this and stay safe where my mental health is concerned. Thank you.

Second, my plans for the future are to do a website update where all of my fanfics are up on my website where I will possibly finish some of them, but most will be turned into published novels. I am changing my name and handles and I bought a new website domain. I will only post positive things on my Tiktok and will stop making personal posts online. I will be kinder to people and when I am in a manic time, I will step away from social media. I am making the necessary changes so that my mental illnesses and trauma don’t destroy my publishing career.

Third, I truly love you. I love you and every reader I have that has found a way to hold me accountable without tearing me down. I appreciate you and this message and I am so sorry to you if I ever made a video or post that hurt you on any way. I love you and the platform you have given me.

And finally, this is a huge rant about everything that has happened so feel free to skip over it but I haven’t been able to make a statement and so this is my statement so I can vent/rant. This is not directed at you, the person who asked this question—this is directed at the people who cancelled me on Twitter.

TRIGGER WARNING: EDs, talk of s*icide. Very frank about my mental health.

I have had the worst three days and have barely been able to keep myself from ideations - I had to go to a family member’s house to keep myself safe from my own desire to disappear. I haven’t been able to defend myself and have been apologizing in individual letters and DMs and public videos this entire time and still, have had to deal with people saying I’m disgusting, repulsive, toxic, abusive, and manipulative. All while fully knowing I am a survivor of severe complex trauma. They just don’t care.

I have completely internalized those words and now am struggling even seeing the point in living if I am that type of person. Because let’s face it—I’m 30. I’m Black. I’m poor. I just got evicted. I’m in debt. I made a video that caused me to affect almost 100 people’s recoveries. I called someone a horrible name in an argument. I was defensive with every comment I got and paranoid that everyone was being r*cist or ableist. I lost almost all of my friends. And now an innumerable amount of people think I am an abuser.

I feel like I am nothing.

But I’m fighting every minute to stay and to fight and to find purpose again after this cancellation. After reading all those tweets, I have spent hours and I mean HOURS talking to the four close friends I have left, crying and panicking and planning and analyzing and trying to figure out ways that I can learn and become a better person, and every so often throughout the day, I find myself bursting into tears thinking it’s pointless because I lost everything and I have nothing and hundreds of people despise my existence.

I can barely breathe.

I have made a lot of mistakes. I have been manic on my Tiktok. I have been unkind to people in the fandom. I have been immature and cruel and have not taken care of my mental health. I have been paranoid and acted out on my paranoia and have hurt people.

I am incredibly ashamed of my actions and I am leaving the fandom because of them. But the way I have seen people describe me as someone who deserves nothing good (because a person who is described as repulsive, disgusting, manipulative, and abusive is not someone who deserves to live by society’s standards) in their life was overwhelming.

The onslaught of tweets making fun of me, insinuating I had intentionally made the video to get reads, and the Twitter thread full of anecdotal “evidence,” captions that didn’t match the screenshots, and statements that were vague was abhorrent. I saw someone on Reddit say that they didn’t believe any of the Wattpad bullying happened to me when EVERYONE saw it on my Tiktok comments and I posted screenshots multiple times. Someone today invalidated my ten year battle with my ED by claiming I needed to “talk to people who had EDs” so I could understand it.

I am a person. A person who has been through so much pain. So, so much pain. And I made a mistake. A mistake I apologized for. Profusely. Over and over and over.

I have made mistakes and I have been unkind. But I also have been 100% transparent that I am a trauma survivor and I clearly experience manic episodes. I don’t intend to hurt people. I don’t want to hurt people. I don’t even want to be me and so wish I was ANYONE else so I wouldn’t have to experience what it’s like to live in this body and this life where I am unable to control all of my actions because my brain is not like everyone else’s. I feel trapped in my life and pain and trauma and feel like no one cares.

And this cancellation proved that over 100 people don’t.

To be hated by hundred people at once, loudly and vocally, is overwhelming.

I will apologize for the twentieth time.

I want to help people and I misworded my video when I made it. I am sorry to everyone who was hurt by that video and I apologize to everyone in the fandom who was hurt directly or indirectly by my posts, videos, or actions. I am gone from the fandom for your peace of mind. You are free of me.

I just wish even ONE person would have given me a chance to explain it. During my cancellation, ONE person stood up publicly for my mental health. ONE.

This all being said, everyone has been talking about me and what a horrible person I am for the past few days. I haven’t defended myself. This is my one statement defending myself. I cannot respond to any negativity because I am on the thinnest thread you can possibly imagine.

Please let me have this one space to make this statement about my cancellation without arguing me, debating me, giving me a list of thirteen reasons why I’m a horrible person, or anything like that. I haven’t denied or made excuses for anything. I have let everyone pile on and chip away at me and reprimand me for my actions for days and it’s now at the point where people are invalidating my trauma.

Hold me accountable. But don’t give me a list of reasons why I deserve to disappear, then claim that that isn’t what you want.

It was a cancellation. I was cancelled. I own the reasons why I was cancelled.

But I am BEGGING you to just let me have this vent. The fandom was all I had. I had nothing else. I lost my friends, my passion, and the one thing I had to wake up for because of this. I deserve every bit of it.

But I want to live. I want to find joy and healing and love again. So I will leave the fandom, but I am asking you to please show me a small bit of compassion and let me move on in peace.

Thank you for reading it you made it this far. For anyone who wants to follow along with my writing, you can do so here:

https://www.honeysweetwriting.com/subscribe

My name and domain will be changing in the next few weeks.

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genderfluidlucifer · 4 years ago

Text

Response to being asked to give an opinion on Connie’s calout by residentevil-4

(Tw: CSAM, rape fic, incest fic, predatory behavior, racism, ableism, kink mention, nsfw mentions. Minors should probably dni.)

“Connie and I know each other irl and went to school together for 3 years, although they now live in a different state and have cut contact with me. We went to a private therapy school in Manhattan as we're both disabled and were deemed unable to attend public school. Even though we were pretty close, Connie didn't like having photos taken of them, so I don't have any selfies of the two of us; however, these are from our sophomore and senior yearbooks which at least confirms that we were in the same year at school. People who have seen Connie's selfies should be able to confirm that that is what they look like. First and foremost, Connie is not TMA. They are intersex and the two of us have discussed intersex issues both in person and online, but they are still decidedly CAFAB.” Ok so first off, I want to address this part of the callout. To be honest...was it really necessary to literally doxx Connie ehre? Because this textbook definition of doxxing. Yes Connie’s done some shitty things but I freally don’t think that what they’ve done warrants this level of doxxing. Or...even better, any doxxing. This feels like a really unnecessary breach of privacy, revealing sensitive information on Connie’s childhood that they choose to confide in you with. I really don’t agree with this aspect of the callout as it feels very invasive and bordering on stalkerish. Btw when I say bordering on stalkerish I’m not directly calling you a stalker Bonnie. Just so we’re clear. I am not defending Connie supposedly faking being TMA. Because faking being TMA is a very serious issue. HOWEVER since I don’t know Connie irl and to be quite frank it’s none of my business what the nature of their agab is. Were not close and I’m certainly not going to like lead Connie onto thinking we’re friends just to confirm this with them because that would be creepy. So to be honest I’m going to take this part of the callout with again of salt for now.

[ID: A cropped screenshot of a numbered list Connie posted to their blog hadrosaurs in response to an ask.

“3. I’m TMA And that’s completely irrelevant. I’m not accusing them because of their gender I didn’t even know their gender when they said that to me saying that they said that because they fucking said that and the reaction to it was incredibly alarming. Don’t fucking say that stuff to people.]

I mean I”m not a trans woman so take this with a grain of salt if you want but...I don’t see how this is really proof of Connie being deliberately transmisogynistic? Yes Connie gives iffy retellings of mistakes they’ve made in the past. I’ve seen that on their blog before and I won’t pretend it doesn’t happen. BUT here they sound genuine enough and to be honest a growing issue I’ve seen with callouts as of late is. A person confirms they in fact did not do the thing they were called out for. And then the people who make the callout choose to see it as proof of incriminating behavior anyways. To be honest it’s a big problem and it’s also incredibly unfair to the person being called out. If you’re so determined at that point to see the person as bigoted no matter what they say then of course anything they say can be seen as proof. So I’m going to have to pass on this bit of evidence. “Connie responded: “Final note: I have spoken extensively with several trans women about using TMA to describe myself. I will not be getting into discourse about that on this blog again. All that leads to is people demanding my medical records and calling me slurs. If you wanna have a thoughtful conversation about it direct message me cause it’s not happening again here.” Again this really doesn’t seem all that self incriminating. Connie mentions here that they’ve talked to rl trans woman about whether or not they can be considered TMA. Connie really doesn’t have to disclose that personal information to people for any reason. Yes even when people are e including this ask response in a callout. And considering lots of people DO get invasive about Connie’s medical history ans general personal life over matters like this? I feel their reaction is pretty understandable here. “Connie has constantly compared “exclusionists” (or anyone, really) to TERFs, even when the people in question are not transmisogynistic, trans exclusionary radfems, or are even transmisogyny affected themselves.

“ Gonna have to disagree with this part of the callout too. Lots of ace inclus blogs, even some run by trans women , have proven that the ace exclus movement was started by swerfs/terfs. But the blog that has the most evidence for this is courteousmingler on tumblr. I suggest you check out that blog’s archiving of the history of ace exclus rhetoric before rushing to call me a transmisogynist for disagreeing with this part of the callout. I looked through all of the evidence for Connie being racist and tbh as a black ndn it all feels incredibly flimsy. It’d be one thing if Connie was using their experiences to derail and invalidate the discussions about how black people are oppressed But they weren’t doing that there at all. This part of the post feels incredibly biased. And like OP is looking for things to be mad about. Going to have to pass on this list of evidence. Also uh I seem to recall that residentevil04 got called out for some questionable behavior as well. “Both me (insepsy, hi) and ezrat have had really weird spikes in activity on our Statcounters, both on the same day. (Saturday, 4/17/21) For both of us, majority of the pages looked at by these visitors have been related to or about Connie, or have been posts that Connie would find "problematic" such as the f slur untagged or something related to "panphobia"/aphobia. I’m sorry but...none of the proof of cyberstalking holds any water. Visiting someone’s blogs and rbing posts to disagree with them is not cyberstalking. Keeping tabs on urls that an abusive person who has harassed are using so you can block them (in this case with kyoshi) and warn your mutuals is not stalking. As a victim of rl stalking it’s...really weird to call this legit stalking at all. Much less claim that you have damning proof of it being stalking when no such evidence exists in the callout. Besides after Connie and nonbinarydave called out one of kyoshi’s buddies for sending a death threat hate anon to nonbinarydave’s toddler st4lker partly admitted to doing it a few times. Then other mutuals in kyoshi’s toxic social circle clearly began joining in. Making side accounts where they tried to spin a false narrative of nonbinarydave’s daughter being one of their alters (ableist as hell.) And also trying to do it in such a way that they thought would trigger nonibnarydave’s psychosis (also ableist as hell.) If you’re going to drag Connie for their mistakes and never let them move on from those mistakes then it’s only fair to do that to people you agree with who also do toxic/bigoted things. ALso the fact that your wording here suggests that you think panphobia and aphobia aren’t real makes me doubt this claim even more. Exclus and their allies are notorious for mislabeling inclus disagreeing with them as stalking. “connie said that they would release that info at a later time and the minor began to argue with them that they had a responsibility regardless of their complicated relationship with age. in this argument connie for a time kept their age ambiguous and at one point told the minor (who confirmed in a later ask that they were severely traumatized by adults) that they obviously weren’t traumatized. connie quickly deleted this ask and any mentions of it and the next post they reblogged was about how wrong it was to try and quantify or discount others’ trauma. on my old blog i @ed them in the replies and asked if they had just done that. connie admitted to it and said it was fucked up but quickly blocked + deleted my comment. i can’t remember whether or not connie apologized to the minor, they may have? but yeah. i thought that was pretty weird.”] I do agree with some of the concern here that adults shouldn’t over expose minors in discourse. I’ve been contemplating this for awhile myself. And trying to figure out how to take better steps to avoid including minors who are triggered by discourse in discourse, especially. HOWEVER I have one little issue with this addition to the callout. If that is the case then exclus and their allies need to practice this as well. You cannot ignore the fact that the reason a lot of minors are getting involved in exclus discourse is due to adult exclus and their allies forcing minors to pick a side in the discourse. Y’all are not at all exempt from this problem. I still remember an ex mutual of mine trying to convince a minor to agree that aces can’t face corrective rape. And based on how aggressive it got with me when I tried to avoid giving an opinion on the matter, I can’t imagine that it would’ve reacted better to the minor refusing to give an opinion or to the minor outright disagreed. Refusing to put these standards on exclus and their allies is both hypocritical and quite frankly very transparent. The claims about them glorifying dark topics on AO3 through their fics also seems unfortunately legit. I mean those asks of shaming people who ask their viewers to not romanticize or glorify abusive relationships in their works is very damning. I’m very disappointed to see that Connie has taken being an inclus to the point of validating antis anti culture wholeheartedly. I can’t think of much more to add to my opinion on that part of the callout. As for the issue of Connie interacting with pro shippers in the past, I do know that this claim is legit. I’ve seen it before and so has Breeze. This was why for a brief time we decided to stop following their blogs. Because it was triggering to have pro shippers put on our dash. And sometimes we just don’t feel it’s worth it to always let people we’re platforming know they’re rbing triggering stuff. So sometimes we just quietly unfollow and choose to not interact until we’re sure they’re filtering what they do and don’t rb in some way. I definitely don’t agree with that behavior. And if they’re still doing that I”ll deplatform again. “The anon asks: “A weird question but do you know any other stimboard blogs with your follow criteria? (No radfems, racists, fandom antis, etc.) I was hoping to find more through your “similar blogs” but a lot have no anti-antis for their DNI or allow truscum/transmeds and exclus. :(“

The user responds: “I know of @turtle-pond-stims, @outofangband, and @kinaesthetics! 🍂🍄" “[ID: A cropped screenshot of an ask sent by Connie from their now-deactivated blog, butch-with-a-tortoise.

Connie says: “hey anon I have safe stim blogs. dm me if you want them. And radfems/bigots aren’t allowed to interact. For my own safety (because the community is honestly terrifying) I can’t publicly say on my blogs that I’m safe for proshippers/kinky people but I try to spread word how I can.”] [ID: Screenshot of a post by evilwriter37, which reads, “I’ve been seeing posts about fandom police leaving ao3, and it’s like: Good. We don’t want you here anyway. Go find your own fanfiction site.”

The post is tagged “#Fandom #AO3 #Antis #Purity Culture” and has 87 notes. It was posted on December 21st, 2020.

There is a reply from main-to-outofangband-andothers saying: “there are Silm antis on that site who are against Russigon (Maedhros and Fingon) not because they’re cousins but because they’re both male (coded)”] [ID: A screenshot of an anonymous (though signed off as being from outofangband) ask sent to evilwriter37, which says, “Melkor and Viggo solidarity is ‘Look there’s nothing wrong with keeping my enemy chained up in my personal chambers at all times so please just focus on the war efforts and I’ll focus on the boy* in my chambers’ -@outofbangand.

*boy used figuratively @ antis”

The user responds: “Pfft!!! Hahaha! You’re absolutely right! (And Viggo does refer to Hiccup in canon as ‘my boy’).”] I can’t really say anything to refute this. Because these are all posts of Connie outright stating that they disagree with antis. And not only sympathize with anti antis but are fully against antis. Looks like very damning evidence. Although ngl I’m not entirely against kinky blogs as a whole? Just so long as they truly stay in their lane with their kink content. And don’t force it on others in any way. Or shame people who are triggered by their kinks. It is true that being entirely against kinky blogs no matter what is dipping your toes into swerf rhetoric. Tbh I’m not going to look at the rest. This is pretty much all I need to make a decision on whether or not I”ll continue platforming Connie. Though I will try to get some more perspective from people who I interact with as well. Because I feel better about making a more definitive decision after doing that. Also in general please don’t not try to get an opinion from me on how I feel about syscourse. A lot of the claims about Connie’s age weirdness and them using their alters as a shield feel like syscourse to me. Especially if this callout was written by one or several singlets. Singlets should never be trying to judge how legit someone’s system is ever. Even if their system friends encourage them to. You can call out a horrible person with a system without trying to insinuate that they’re lying about their alters in some way. Doing otherwise is ableist ESPECIALLY if you’re a singlet. Also in general the reason I stay out of discussions of judging how someone is handling their systems is because it’s syscourse and syscourse is triggering for my system and I. If this post was an attempt to get me to give an opinion on the validity of Connie’s system I don’t appreciate it. And I would appreciate not being dragged into such matters again, thank you.

In general there’s like a few parts of this callout that feel legit. Which is unfortunately cluttered with obvious bias and obsessive hatred of Connie. I’m not here to stan or coddle Connie. I know they are not a perfect person. Especially since no human being in the world is perfect. But I feel the way this callout was created was very sloppy since a lot of the evidence was messy at best. And some points were very hypocritical as well as there being some no true scotsman moments from OP. In acting like exclus never do any of the thing that they tried to call out Connie for. Which is behavior that I am not a fan of. This is why people need to be more careful about callouts and like make roughdrafts and have a more unbiased person helping them if they don’t feel they can do it on their own. I’m even trying to make a resolve to do better at that myself. So it’s not like I’m unwilling to put my money where my mouth is. Anyways those are all my thoughts on this messy callout. And tbh I’m not going to get too much more heavily involved in this. Because I need to focus on more immediately serious rl stuff more often, like doing what I can to get out of the hellish landscape of a house I currently am stuck in.

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thesculptedflower · 5 years ago

Text

Partners in crime / Part 2

Oh dear, this is becoming a series, oopsie. So at least one more chapter, I’m loving this request waaaay too much. So thank you, @rott3nheart :*

Chapter 2

It took some days for Ed to regain any movement to his limbs. At first it felt weird and a little uncomfortable when you needed to feed him and dress him and help him to the bathroom, but with time and patience you both learned what worked best. And after that, there was no stopping you from growing even closer. There was no awkwardness between you and you both felt comfortable being your true selfs around each other. You joked about everything and anything, finding more and more similarities in your personalities. You were also bonded by trauma, caused by the same person. You told him everything Oswald had done to you, the heinous verbal abuse and the threats after you left him. In turn, he told you everything Oswald had done to him. You had thought you couldn’t hate that sorry excuse of a man any more, but somehow Ed’s stories pushed you further.

Everything seemed to be going perfectly, until today. Ed was already walking almost without any help and he could eat on his own. But one unfortunate conversation brought up a new problem, a major one.

’’What do you mean, ’you don’t know’?’’ You asked, looking at Ed from the couch where you were reading a book about riddles.

His head hung low, eyes focused on his hands on his lap. You could feel how anxious he was already. After one unsolved riddle.

’’Let’s just try another one, okay?’’ You offered carefully, turning another page on the book. ’’What’s first green, then red all over?’’

You could see his shoulders tensing as he searched his mind for the answer. The longer it took, the more frustrated he got, his breathing getting ragged. You shot up from the couch and hurried next to him. You sat on the bed next to him and placed your hand gently on his cheek. He turned his face away, avoiding looking at you.

’’I’m stupid.’’ He whispered, the pain and anger in his voice very clear. ’’The damn bird broke my brain, my brilliant brain!’’ He shouted, suddenly turning to look you straight to the eyes. You felt frozen under his piercing gaze. The hate for Oswald was more evident than ever.

’’Edward.’’ You said softly, slowly reaching for his cheek again. This time, he didn’t move away. ’’You’re not stupid. You’re incredibly smart, devilishly intelligent, and this won’t bring us down.’’

His dark eyes were glued to yours, strengthening the dark desire you both had.

’’We’ll find a way through this, I won’t give up on you.’’

The last words you said seemed to change the look on his eyes. The hard and hateful gaze softened and the muscles in his face relaxed. He didn’t say anything for a while, causing you to get a little nervous. Just as you were about to say something to break the silence, he leaned forward and pressed his lips against yours. After the initial shock, that didn’t take too long, your hand traveled to his hair, brushing your fingers trough them. Ed had enough strength in his arms to pull your upper body against his, holding you to him like you’d vanish if he let go.

After a while, you pulled back for air. You looked up to Ed and smiled ambitiously.

’’I’ll do everything I can, to find a cure for you.’’

In the following weeks, you and Ed spend countless hours reading riddles and poems to trigger his brain. Some days were better than others. One day could be absolutely amazing, filled with right answers and witty remarks. It definitely got your hopes up, but there were very, very bad days too. On a bad day, Ed would be miserable, getting his mind tired with wrong answers and frustration. On those days, you made sure you were there for him, in every way he needed you. He found comfort in your touch, craving to be close to you whenever he felt hopeless. You would lay in your bed, his head on your chest, whispering sweet nothings in his ear. Reassuring him that he would be fine in the end. You’d brush his hair with your fingers, often soothing him to sleep.

Lee Thompkins was your last hope. She had come back to Gotham after some much needed alone time. Her ex-boyfriend Jim Gordon had shot her husband, supposedly doing so to defend her, but you weren’t sure of the details. Anyway, she was now working in the Narrows, helping the people who needed medical aid but had no means to pay as much as the national healthcare was asking. It was admirable, and you hoped she’d find the reason why Ed was like this. She did all kinds of tests, took blood samples and even studied Ed’s sleeping. Sadly for nothing. There was simply nothing wrong with Ed, aside from some sleep deprivation. But his brain was perfectly okay. The news damaged him even more. He was now convinced that the time he was frozen had permanently altered his brain, and that he’d never be able to work again. He was shutting down, keeping to himself the next few days. You were afraid you were loosing him, and at this point, loosing him would hurt more than loosing your revenge.

One night, your mind was going everywhere, still trying to find a way to help Ed. Maybe it was something so simple that you hadn’t even thought about it. Maybe the solution was always in him, just sleeping under the fear and confusion. Just maybe, if you just said the right words, it would wake up.

’’I know this might be a little strange, but I’d like to tell you something.’’ You spoke softly, your back turned to Ed, who was sitting on the couch, staring at the TV. You were just about to finish doing the dishes, Ed’s plate still untouched. Getting no answer from him, you continued. ’’I’ve always admired your work, and I’d really, really like to meet you for the first time.’’ You dried your hands to a kitchen towel.

’’You’ve already met me Y/N.’’ Ed sighed, his voice lacking any emotion. You walked behind him, sliding your hands down his chest until your mouth was next to his ear.

’’Yes, I’ve met you Ed. But I’ve not met him.’’

You could feel Ed’s muscles tense under your hands and you knew you were on the right path.

’’He’s been hiding from me, I think. Maybe he’s a little shy around women.’’ You teased, slowly coming in front of him, blocking the TV which he really wasn’t looking at anymore. His eyes were on you. You sat on his lap and guided his hands to your waist.

’’Maybe he’d like to hear his name, coming from my lips. Maybe he’d like that.’’

Ed’s grasp tightened around your waist, causing a sly smile to play on your lips. You leaned forwards, so you were again next to his ear.

’’Show yourself, unless you’re too scared, Riddler.’’ You whispered.

You stayed perfectly still, waiting for any kind of reaction from him. You were about to turn to look at him, when his other hand shot to your neck and pulled your hair. Not too hard, not too light, just enough for it to be sexy. You gasped from the sudden pull, but smiled even wider. You were now facing each other, Riddler holding you in place. His eyes looked different from those of Ed, more dark and dangerous. Those were they eyes you had seen frozen in ice.

’’Y/N L/N, I’ve been dying to meet you.’’ His voice was deeper, lustful even. ’’Let’s get to work, shall we?’’

#edward nygma #edward nygma x reader #edward nygma x you #edward nygma x y/n #The Riddler #the riddler x reader #the riddler x you #the riddler x y/n #Cory Michael Smith #Gotham #gotham series #gotham fanfic #gotham imagine

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honeypwark · 5 years ago

Text

[ Conference Room A ]

↳ Pre-Debut era

↳ Yeosu runs into someone on her way to a meeting. She's suddenly given an offer that's impossible to refuse. She refuses.

m.list

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

"Conference room A... Conference room A... Conference room- oh, sorry!"

Yeosu rounds the corner after passing conference rooms B and C and runs directly into someone. The person she'd run into steadies her with a hand on her arm then steps back.

"No, it's my fault."

"No, definitely not. I wasn't looking where I was going, it's entirely my fault... wait, you're Rap Monster!"

The boy blinks at her, "You know who I am?"

"I mean, I'm a trainee here, too. You're, like, the best rapper here."

"That's, um... I-," the boy laughs bashfully, "You can call me Namjoon."

"Nice to meet you, Namjoon, I'm Bae Yeosu."

"Yeosu... I know that name. Hobi was talking about you. He says you're the best dancer he's ever seen."

Yeosu beams, "He said that about me? Wait, who's Hobi?"

"Hoseok. Jung Hoseok."

"Oh! The street dancer. He's incredible! That's really high praise coming from him."

"That's why I remembered your name."

Yeosu laughs then suddenly stops, "It's really great to meet you, but I've got to find conference room A."

Namjoon's face drops, "Conference room A?"

"Yeah...," Yeosu says cautiously. "Is that bad? Do they bring trainees in there to kill them or something?"

Namjoon doesn't laugh or even smile at her joke. Her smile fades as he sighs unhappily and looks away from her.

"I'm headed there, too."

"Oh! Then we can go together."

Namjoon steps around her and walks away briskly. Yeosu tries not to let Namjoon's sudden mood change get her down and follows after him as quickly as she can.

Yeosu realizes conference room A was opposite conference room B and she forgot to check both sides of the hallway. Namjoon pulls the door open and steps through promptly, not trying at all to hold it open for her. Yeosu catches the handle and steps into the room as well.

Inside, Namjoon takes his place among six other boys, Bang PD sat at the head of the table farthest from the door.

"Yeosu, hello."

"Hello, sir," Yeosu greets him respectfully with a bow then takes the empty chair at the other end of the table.

"So, this meeting is for introductions and to discuss positions within Bulletproof Boy Scouts without any legal formalities. Your leader-"

"Excuse me, sir?"

Bang PD looks at Yeosu, "Yes?"

"Did you say bulletproof boy scouts?"

"Yes, Bangtan Sonyeondan. Or BTS for ease's sake."

"Why am I here for a discussion on the positions in a group of boy scouts?"

One of the boys badly covers a snort with a cough.

Bang PD peers down the table at Yeosu, "You're joining BTS for their debut... you were briefed on this, weren't you? I was told you'd received the packet of information and decided to join."

"I-," Yeosu's mouth hangs open as she grasps for words, "No."

"No?"

"I-I got a packet. But I misplaced it before I could read it."

"You never read it?"

Yeosu feels her face heat up in embarrassment, "I set it on my bunk when I got back from practice then went out to eat with some other trainees. When I got back I couldn't find it anywhere."

"You didn't tell anyone you needed another packet?"

"I... I forgot."

"You forgot?"

Yeosu hangs her head in shame and whispers an apology.

It's silent for several long moments.

Then Bang PD laughs.

Yeosu looks up in surprise.

"It's alright. From what I hear, you're a fairly responsible girl, so I'll give you a pass. I'll just tell you our idea."

BigHit wants to include a female trainee in their pre-debut group to appeal more to the male fans. Someone with strong stage presence and vocals so she won't be overshadowed. And a talented dancer because she'll have to learn to dance more masculine to fit into the group choreographies.

Almost everyone recommended Yeosu when this idea was being passed around.

"I'm, uh, honored, sir, really. But doesn't BTS only debut in two months?"

"You know when we debut but not our group name?" a boy speaks up.

With no real excuse, Yeosu instead says, "My mom says I have selective hearing."

The same boy from earlier actually laughs at this. When the boy beside him looks at him he falls quiet.

"BTS is debuting in a little over two months, but I've heard firsthand accounts of your skills. You'll surely be able to learn everything in time."

Yeosu laughs softly, a little overwhelmed by everything that's suddenly happening. She can't help but smile because she'll actually be debuting.

Then she sees the boys that sit three and four on either side of the table. They all look stoic or displeased or a little angry. She manages to catch Namjoon's gaze and he rolls his eyes to look away.

They don't want her to debut with them.

"I... I would love to debut with BTS," she says.

Bang PD smiles are her, "Wonderful. So, positions-"

"But I think it may be wise to wait to debut any female trainees in another girl group. I can understand your thinking that a female member would attract more male fans, but I'm worried people may get the wrong idea about a single girl in a group of seven boys. And co-ed groups have a history of not being very successful. I'd hate to stump the popularity of BTS."

Bang PD looks at Yeosu, "That's very well said. However, as we're such a small company, we need something that will attract attention."

"I fully understand how you came to this decision but I'll have to politely disagree, sir," Yeosu says.

"You do realize it may be years before we debut another group. It may not even be a girl group."

Yeosu takes a breath, "I understand that, sir, and I apologize but... I think I'll deny your offer of debuting with these boys. I'm sure they'll do wonderfully on their own."

Bang PD takes a breath, "You're sure?"

Yeosu gives a quick glance at the seven boys. They all have looks of relief mixed with something else on their faces now. One of them is even fighting a smile.

She gives a small nod, "Yes, sir."

Bang PD sighs, "Alright. You're dismissed, then."

Yeosu stands, bows, and thanks him. She pushes her chair back in and leaves the room.

She stands in the hallway for a moment then bends over and rests her hands on her knees. That was absolutely nerve racking. She takes a decent breath for the first time in several minutes.

She didn't actually believe anything she said to defend her refusal of the offer of debut but for the sake of the seven boys who have been preparing for debut for several months, she made and defended her case even if she didn't agree with a word of it.

She shakes her hair out of her face as she straightens up, "I should be a lawyer."

She walks down the hallway and heads to vocal class, fairly disheartened for the remainder of the day. She was so close. But she shouldn't take away seven boys' chance at a wonderful debut just so she can debut. She lets that thought brighten her mood just a bit.

#bts #8th member of bts #bts 8th member #eighth member of bts #bts eighth member #eighth member #8th member #bts au #kpop #kpop au #kpop female member #kim namjoon #rm #namjoon #bang pd #kim namjoon fluff #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction

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hey-hamlet · 5 years ago

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BNHA AU Ideas: True Might

Also on AO3!

TL;DR: Powers don't make the hero - passion does. Luckily for Izuku and Toshinori, this is something the quirkless have in droves.

AKA: All Might is a quirkless vigilante, One for All isn't a quirk that exists and 1A gets a whole 3-week buffer before villain's start kicking their face in as opposed to the 3 days of canon.

Basically: Quirkless!Vigilante!All Might and Quirkless!Successor!(gen ed) UA Student!Midoriya. It’s a riot.

Yagi is stupid strong, his only form in this AU is basically Muscle Form from canon, but he’s a little less ridiculously cut. Not quite chubby, but huggable. This is mostly because he A, isn’t a celebrity that needs to have a marketable image and B, he really likes carbs.

He’s not exactly a vigilante by choice, in his day and age quirkless kids weren’t permitted to apply to UA, either gen ed or heroics. When Nezu got the job, that all changed, but it was a solid decade too late for Yagi.

He’s admittedly a little bitter about it, but he refuses to do anything but his best. He might be a little snippier with Pros than he really needs to be but oh well.

Katsuki and Izuku are utterly enamoured with this crazy vigilante that just doesn’t lose, refuses to back down from a fight even when he’s outmatched, and somehow coming out victorious anyway, rescuing everyone. They have a tense relationship, but often find time to get together and just ramble about how cool All Might is, share theories and dissect his fights. It’s not uncommon for Katsuki to have been hurling abuse at Izuku during class, only to show up at his house after school with a backpack full of snacks and a notebook full of questions.

Izuku knows most of what Katsuki does is to keep his status in the school. If he showed pity to a dumb quirkless runt he’d be painted with the same brush. This doesn’t make what Katsuki has done right! Only Izuku doesn’t blame him because he’s way too forgiving.

Izuku is the smartest person Katsuki knows and vice versa – they are each other’s measuring stick. Katsuki shows Izuku bravery, Izuku shows Katsuki determination.

Episode 1 goes as it does but you see a real flash of regret when Katsuki tells Izuku to jump off a roof because they are kinda-sorta friends. Izuku looks so betrayed. We meet the slime villain like before, All Might saves Izuku and 100% doesn’t expect the kid to fanboy about him and ask for two autographs – one made out to a “Kacchan”.

“Can someone quirkless be a hero?” “The whole world will be against you. Most places won't even give you a shot – no matter how good you are. You’re better off picking something else.”

Izuku is crushed but he does understand. All Might leaves and Izuku trails off kinda hopelessly. He follows the sounds of explosions without meaning to.

It’s Katsuki! He’s dying! Like usual at this point lmao. Izuku rushes in much like canon, All Might shows up, pulls Katsuki free and slams a dumpster on the slime villains head before making a speedy getaway. The police rip into Izuku but Katsuki actually defends him. “You were doing fuck all while I fucking died – don’t knock the only asshole who tried.” Izuku quietly slips him the autograph before running off the scene. Katsuki cries because Izuku got that for him even after he was such a fucking bastard that day? He can’t bring himself to be a dick to Izuku again, even only for show.

All Might finds Izuku and he's like “Sorry I was an ass I was being a dick because I had low self-esteem – I’m quirkless. If you’ll have me I’ll make you into the best hero the world had ever seen

Izuku, obviously, says yes please!

Also, hypermobile Izuku with joint braces as support gear because just let me project please my arms are killing me ( I wrote this a while ago and yes. My arms are still killing me - yes even now). He gets them after All Might sees him miss a dodge because his ankles rolled beneath him. They support his joints beyond the normal range of strength, letting him do some crazy pivots and handsprings, making it easy to support all his weight on a single-arm with very little strain. They can also lock in place, lessening muscle fatigue if he needs to hold onto something for ages and preventing injury if he’s pushing against something. Produced by David and Melissa Shield and imported through Nighteye Heroics.

Is support gear illegal for civilians to own? Yes! But medical equipment isn’t so if you can just convince people its medical not support you can get away with a lot.

Yagi has no weapons himself, other than the random shit he picks up and swings at people, and has little support gear other than a communicator, panic button, and a whole lot of zip-ties.

Izuku should probably have weapons but I’m struggling to think of anything other than war fans because how cool would that look? Because Shonen they would also have the ability to create powerful downdrafts that would give a boost to a jump or dodge.

Probably doesn’t get them until later and needs to train with them.

In this AU, One for All isn’t a quirk. Rather, it’s a role, passed from quirkless person to quirkless person, the only people who can’t be hard countered by All for One. They tend to be vigilantes, crime lords or hero managers, doing their part to foil as much of All for One’s plans as they can, through whatever means necessary.

It’s a role with a pretty high fatality rate.

No one knows All Might is quirkless other than those close to him, they instead think he has a strength quirk. He’s the most prolific vigilante in Japan and is almost as much of a household name as canon All Might. More divisive though, with most people decrying his vigilante status when he could ‘easily make a respectable hero’. He’s also pretty brutal with his takedowns of some villains, leading a lot of people to call him an unregulated brute. Still more call him a villain which, legally he would be - were he using a quirk.

Nighteye is his contact in the heroics industry, gives him loads of inside info that’s typically not something he should be passing on. He’s still close with David Shield. Nighteye imports any costume parts he needs from David and leaves them at various pickup points for Yagi.

He went to college with David in America after Nana died; America having a quirk blind admission process helped - but he’d have gotten shit talked a lot if people didn’t just assume he had a strength quirk. Dude was and is crazy big.

David was one of the only people that knew he was quirkless

OH FOR FUN; Nighteye was also going to this American college and that’s where he met All Might. The three of them became the world’s strangest group of friends and may have lowkey done some slightly illegal vigilante work around the campus and surrounding town. They had a reputation for getting no sleep ever and being the most mismatched set of people

Secretly Smart Jock, Business Man with a Touch of E-boy, Science Hipster. They all tumbled into class together with varying levels of alive-ness. Nighteye and David were very much not morning people.

UA! It’s a ride. Izuku fails the practical but he’s not shocked – he was prepared for this.

He actually got like 30 hero points? But they refused to admit him on hero points alone due to his ‘deficiencies’. They don’t exactly tell Izuku this but Aizawa was there and he was furious.

Gets into 1C with Shinsou, Shinsou fuckin hates him on sight for reasons best known to him (It’s bc he was so god damned cheerful he just – assumed Izuku had a quirk. I love Shinsou but he’s more than a little judgemental). Izuku is like smiling through the pain because he just wanted to make a friend his age – Katsuki barely counts.

He sits with him at lunch and makes friends-ish with the hero kids who dragged Katsuki along, meets Ochaco again. She’s upset he didn’t get in – especially after he tells her he apparently got 30 points. The whole table gets mad on his behalf and hes embarrassed and happy.

Like day 2 he’s leaving gym and someone is like “Oh LMAO it’s Deku – he was in the year below me at Aldera. Only fuckin quirkless kid in the whole school; can’t believe he got into UA.” He turns to Izuku. “Who’s dick did you suck to get in you - ?” And Shinsou just decks him. He grabs Izuku – who is super confused fyi – and s p r i n t s. They have to stop after a while because hes having a panic attack and Shinsou doesn’t know what the fuck to do and he’s mad and upset and the sunshine boy is sobbing –

Aizawa shows up, having seen the (end of the) altercation and is ready to expel some gen ed kids he can’t legally expel – until he sees the two kids from the entrance exam he was interested in – including the quirkless kid who should have gotten in. Well he’s much more willing to hear them out.

100% requests expulsion on those 2 2E kids because that’s Discrimination and they should know better as second years. Nezu grants it because those 2 were di ck s

No USJ because no All Might – stuff like that will come,,, later : )

Sports Fest! Izuku and Shinsou kick ass, Aizawa is Watching. All Might may have gotten in as a crowd member with Nighteye and a visiting David and Melissa and they are cheering on their sun son. Also, Nighteye is going to go cheer on Mirio so he just got a pass to attend all 3 days of the sports festival. He’s just buying snacks on the second day because he’s never talked to one of the second years in his life.

Shinsou and Izuku make it to the tournament. Izuku has been training pretty seriously with All Might for a while now and hes a very good fighty boy. Makes it to the 3rd round of the tournament where he loses to Iida. Shinsou makes it second where he loses to Katsuki. Izuku is like “Iida might you be Ingenium’s brother or something?” “Yes, I am!” “OH MY GOD I LOVE INGENIUM ISN’T HE THE COOLEST” “YES MY BROTHER IS AMAZING” Shinsou is just watching while faintly amused.

#bnha au #true might au #bnha #All Might #yagi toshinori #shinsou hitoshi #midoriya izuku #aizawa shouta

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in-this-body-of-mine · 4 years ago

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To The Bone (2017) - Analysis and Charting

Let’s go! I’m NOT excited because life is hard but what better way to distract myself than to do this kind of shit. No one cares, anyways.

Since this is the first one, let me tell you what we’re gonna do here. I’ll include the IMDB summary, a summary with spoilers, the placements in the chart, we’ll go over each item (also, spoilers abound) and finally my review and final thoughts. Yes, it’s gonna be long. Read at your own risk.

IMDB summary: A young woman, dealing with anorexia, meets an unconventional doctor who challenges her to face her condition and embrace life.

Summary with spoilers: Lily Collins plays Ellen/Eli and from the start of the movie she is on the brink of her disease. She was just kicked out of a recovery center and she gets an appointment with a ~cool unconventional doctor~ played by Keanu Reeves. She goes into ANOTHER inpatient treatment home to be treated by him. Shit happens, she seems to be getting better somehow, but then she spirals down, runs away, and after a... near death experience (I wish this was an euphemism) she decides to try recovery again and goes back to the treatment home. That’s where the movie ends.

Chart placements!

Now for each item:

White: Ellen or Eli is played by Lily Collins, who once played Sandra Bullock’s daughter in that movie were she was a Karen. It doesn’t get whiter than that.

Female: She changes her name to Eli mid film (which is how I’ll be calling her here bc we respect chosen names in this household) but she still seems to identify as female and be referred to as such, so here we have it. We do have a guy in the treatment home, but we’ll come back to him later.

Teenager/Young adult: I’m pretty sure she is 19 but every review I see says she’s 20. Either way, she dropped out of college even though she just started it. The actress, however, was 28 at the time the movie was released.

Wealthy/seemingly well-off: Her family has the money to send her to inpatient a bunch of times, and they make a point to mention how they have connections so she didn’t have to wait in line to see this new doctor. Case closed.

Skinny actress from the start: As we know, Lily Collins is already thin and she did struggle with anorexia in the past. Why, however, did she lose weight for this movie? They said it was her decision “to make the character more authentic”. As if not being skin and bones wouldn’t be enough. As if eating disorders don’t come in every size. They shouldn’t let her. The need to shock people is a very dangerous sign to me.

No distinctive personality or hobbies/interests: I’m glad Eli has a thing she loves. It’s not super present, but it’s there, and it’s plot relevant. She loves art and in the story, she had a tumblr (look, it’s us!) where she shared drawings related to her ED and a girl liked her drawings so much that, when she killed herself, she mentioned Eli by name in a note. But that isn’t really explored too much and I kind of got disappointed by that.

Good student: We don’t really know about that... and I don’t think it matter, it’s ok.

Seemingly irrelevant love interest: Why? Just why do we need Luke? Luke is the only guy in the home, and we can SEE that he’s only there to be Eli’s love interest. He wasn’t needed. None of the important plot points have anything to do with him. Make her date a girl. Make her date NO ONE. This is about eating disorders. She could have closer friends in the house. Why was this necessary. Her whole speech about how love is a lie could come from a friendship but no. They had to shove pretty white boy there.

Daddy issues (sometimes coupled with mommy issues): I find this extremely funny but her dad isn’t in the movie. At all. He’s alive and well, but he makes a point to never come home when Eli is even awake. I don’t think they cast an actor for that. As for mothers, she has three, and it’s a trip. Her stepmom on her dad’s side is very out of touch but she wants what’s best for Eli, but she really hates Eli’s biological mom. Bio mom, in turn, is described as a “bipolar lesbian” and the stereotypes are just... ugh. Bio mom has a wife and she is a bit weird too. They sent Eli to live with her absent dad bc “they couldn’t deal with it anymore”. This brings us to a great scene where we can see Eli shrinking in her seat and when the psychiatrist asks her what she is feeling she says “I’m sorry I’m not a person anymore. I’m a problem.” And that’s great to see. But at the same time, I hate that her whole issue in this movie seems to come from her family and anorexia is just a thing that happened, with some vague references to control.

*Triggering event*: We never see it and it’s okay - but I kind of wanted some more explorations of motives because we have ZERO.

Anorexia as diagnosis: As I always say, what is even the point of making a cool looking movie about EDs if your protagonist is not only anorexic, but also terminally anorexic? Ugh. That’s the only portrayal of anorexia that happens in media and I’m fucking tired.

Checklist of habits (manual for those looking for one): I mean, I mark this down but as I always say: everything is a manual if you’re looking for one. But if you’re doing more than not eating or purging or exercising I’ll judge it as a new tip. A lot of us already thought of/did most of them probably. But the marking remains.

Inpatient treatment (or extended hospital stay): As I said, she is kicked out of one treatment center and goes straight into another. What fucks me up is that the movie HAS other characters with other diagnosis, but we never see anything about them. We don’t see their journey. We only know Luke is a dancer bc he is the love interest. We only know Megan is pregnant and then she’s not bc this sends Eli in a spiral. We only know Kendra is not straight bc she makes a joke about it (and Doctor Beckham follows with a horrible joke about conversion therapy). Did you notice Ciara Bravo was in this movie? I didn’t on first viewing. She has like two lines. The whole movie is centered around Eli and every scene in the house feels like all the other patients only care about her too.

Emotional tipping point: Megan loses her baby and for some reason this affects Eli. Luke kisses Eli and for some reason she’s pissed. At that point, I was annoyed. She has a bad session with Doctor Beckham who basically tells her to grow a pair and stop complaining (which is insensitive as a doctor, but as a person I wanted to do the same) and she decides to quit and leave. She has to go to her mother’s home and I’m supposed to care. Stepmom is mad but doctor says she needs to hit rock bottom. She weights like 70 pounds dude. Rock bottom was about ten pounds ago, next stop is a coffin, mate.

Mom hugs: And here we have the emotional turn around of the movie and it’s just... make it make sense. She goes to her bio mom’s ranch. Her stepmom # 2 tells they’ll have therapy with horses (?). Eli goes sleep in a tent and bio mom cries and says she accepts if Eli wants to die. Very supportive I guess. They have this weird bonding moment where the mom feeds her a bottle like a baby and look, if you liked that, good for you, but I don’t get what I was supposed to feel about it (but that’s mom hug #1). She goes on a hike next morning and... dies? Either way she has an out of body experience where she talks to Luke and sees how she looks - which is weird to me. Didn’t we go over this in the beggining of the movie? Didn’t we establish that she does know what she looks like and doesn’t care? But still she seems shocked and they have a cryptical conversation and she wakes up. And just like that, she’s ok now. She meets up with the other stepmom (mom hug # 2) and goes back to the home.

Happy ending: In the last scene Eli is back to the home and we understand she’s going to try to recover for real this time. I’m okay with that specifically, I think it would be bad if they pretended she just got better with no relapses and everything is fine, but it’s a hopeful ending. Despite the fact that we have no idea if she won’t have a fit and leave in two days and that we never know anything about anyone else and Megan, who lost the baby, never comes back. It’s fine. At that point, I didn’t expect much.

Analysis: I was hesitant to be critical bc this movie was based on the real life experiences of the director and Lily Collins. But fuck it, this is my circus and I’ll clown as much as I want. While I do understand that, I have a lot of thoughts.

Mainly, I need to say that while I understand this is her story, this is a story that was told so many times. I’m tired.

The general public that wants to defend the movie says “well you can’t tell ALL stories”, and while I agree, these people probably only saw this movie about the subject. If you HAVE (or had) and eating disorder, you probably saw tons. And they ALL tell the same story. Which is why I started that chart in the first place.

This movie does have good moments. I do like the acting, I saw people complaining about Keanu Reeves performance - but I do know these were people who disliked the movie entirely. I think his performance was great, Lily Collins performance was great, and their chemistry was great. The best scenes in the movie happened between the two of them. The one thing that I LOVED was their first interaction when he calls her on her bullshit. “You’re not thin, you scare people, and I think you like that.” YES. I never heard anyone talk about that. And I guess I’ll never will, bc the movie itself never talk about this again either. Also when she justifies the tumblr where her art triggered a girl so much, she says that she was just drawing what she knows, he calmly tells her that she can draw, but she doesn’t have to share it online tho. I liked their interactions because often ED patients are treated with silk gloves (is that the expression?) and sometimes there is a need for some though love. I also love Liana Liberato who plays her sister and that’s about it.

The problem with the doctor ends up being: what’s his method? How are you going to cure her? The method makes no sense. I don’t see the reasoning. I don’t think anyone does. And somehow it works and she goes back there.

I think my major problem with the movie is that it has the same issues every ED portrayal before it. It’s the same story again. I think it shines the most in the whole “it’s not about food, it’s about control!”. It IS about food though. For a lot of people, it is. Maybe not for this director or for Lily Collins, but for so many people it is about food. It’s about control as well, and it is possible that there is other factors related to it, but you can’t chalk it all up to a control issue and pretend it’s just whatever. If the food didn’t matter, it wouldn’t be an eating disorder.

Because of that, we have this heavy focus on her family issues and nothing to do with food. We have people trying to rationalize - maybe it’s bc your mom is a lesbian, maybe it’s bc i didn’t bond with you as a baby - and all that does is to make her lesbian bipolar mother seem like a crazy asshole and her dad seem like an absent asshole as if this is the only factor here. Give me SOMETHING. Any connection to food. Any sense. Nope. She just won’t eat bc her family is fucked up. Hoe, that’s all of us.

And I think the movie unintentionally DOES glamourize anorexia. Subtly, yes, but it does. Eli has SUCH an easy time refusing food. She doesn’t seem to think about food as much as she thinks about herself and her family and Luke and being annoying. She knows a bunch of calories and she overexercises. Idk. Not to mention that moment when Kendra asks her about purging and she says “it’s not her thing”. I mean. It is no one’s thing. No one likes it. It’s a compulsion. And if you have anorexia that severe and you are not with a feeding tube, you do eat every now and then, and you do have purging mechanisms. If she had said she prefers overexercising as a purging mechanism than to throw up, I would believe her. But the movie acts as if she just never eats ever and somehow she’s still standing. Give her a feeding tube then. It would be more believable.

I know it sounds kind of ranty, but my point here is: this extremely anorexic girl, that looks like a sack of bones, and gets that by never eating and doing crunches all the time, it is the wet dream of a fatphobic society with a 71 billion weight loss industry. This is the dreamy and frugal idea of anorexia that people have when they are deep into the illness - not when they recovered as the people involved say they did. I get that this is a very personal project. But it’s flawed. It doesn’t do anyone any favors. It just tells the same story, for the millionth time, but since this time it was in a big platform, more people saw it, and it was better done, with a better budget and with a good enough resolution so I can see every bone in Lily Collins body.

Anyway, that’s it for today. If you read all of that, thanks. Since this is Netflix, I’m assuming everyone saw, but the other movies are out there and if you need liks, hit me up. Be back soon.

#eating disorders #eds #pro ana #not pro and you know the rest #to the bone #thinspo #thinspiration #ed things #eds in media #thinsppi #anorekcia

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bl597 · 4 years ago

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requested by my dear @whack-ed ♡: "não resisti e vou escrever isso em pt, pq sim kkkkkk. okay, então primeiro parabéns pelos 300 seguidores cara, isso é bom demais! pra comemorar junto eu queria um 🍒. Sonserina, bissexual, ela/dela, teatro/escrever/desenhar/costurar, cabelos e olhos castanhos, o cabelo liso e curtinho. cara, pra simplificar, eu me descreveria com essa musica "Good Girls - Elle King". é isso meu amor, e de novo, parabéns! vc merece <3"

I accidentally posted the request and I had to delete it jssjksskjdjd anywayssss obrigada meu amor!!! 🥺❤ eu ia responder em português, mas me sinto meio estranha já que tô meio acostumada em escrever em inglês sksjdjdkdjk espero que tu goste!! 💕

warnings: just fluff, really. it took me a very long time to finish it because i procrastinate quite a lot hahaha i need to stop doing it, i really suck at writing headcanons maybe i'll start writing blurbs instead of them hmmmm. a few curse words i guess :p, english is not my first language, so i'm sorry for any mistakes! requests are closed for now!!

my masterlist ♡

I ship you with... Fred Weasley!

okay so first of all

you + Freddie = chaos

you two started dating on your fifth year

and you and the twins always pulled prank together

Filch hates you three so much skshdkdjd

you always used the Marauders map - before the twins gave it to Harry - to sneak around in the middle of the night

and if you ever happened to be caught, you always found a way to get out of this

because come on

you probably study theater and you're an amazing actress

so you could always come up with an excuse for why you were outside bed at past cutfew

not that the teachers actually believed it tho

and Fred just thought you were bloody brilliant because?????

how could he not!!

and he always smiles like a fool when you try to convince the teachers that you did nothing wrong

even though the strong smell of dungbomb literally reports you guys

he didn't really like you at first

because you're a Slytherin and he thought you were an asshole just like most of your housemates

but turns out that you're different from them

you're so unique and so you

with all your sarcasm and cheeky replies

he couldn't help but fall hard for you

so one day he just randomly asked you out

and you said yes bc you thought he was cool too

and also bc hes fred fucking weasley i mean?????

so after a little while you started dating

and oh boy is this man the best boyfriend ever

he always flirts with you, no matter how long you've been dating

because he loves the tiny little blush that spreads over your cheeks

Fred loves to cuddle you and to run his hands through your soft short hair

and omg your eyes

he swears he could spend the rest of his life just admiring them

because they're so beautiful!!!

he will always support you

either it's with your passion for theater

or you art

or anything you do

he loves it all and always lets you know how much he appreciates them and you

he loves it when you read the things you wrote

because you write things so beautifully and so wonderfully

and the proud small smile you give him when he asks you to read to him is enough to improve his whole week

he also loves your drawings and how you put your heart in every single line of it

you once drew him and he almost cried a bit

you always cheer for him during quidditch matches

even though your housemates give you disappointed looks

you couldn't care less

you just wanted to support ya boy

ok so

about his family

they were extremely happy for Fred when he told them he was dating

but they were a bit apprehensive when they found out you were a little snake

because of the house bad fame and everything

but he was fast to calm them down and say you weren't like the other Slytherins

and didn't give a shit about blood statuses or some shit like that

so they invited you to spend a week at the Burrow

to get to know you better and to make sure you were a good person for Freddie

and in the very first minutes you spent there

you managed to steal everyone's heart

you got along pretty well with everyone

and they simply loved you almost as much as Freddie boy does

you and Molly would sit down and talk for hours while she teaches you how to knit

she gets even more excited when she learns you know how to sew

anyways

in less than one week, you unofficially became a Weasley :D

Fred loves you and he was extremely happy to see his family loved you too

his family is everything to him and their approval of your relationship was very important to him

I ship you with... Sirius Black!

ben barnes is such a cutie

well lets begin shall we

Sirius is head over heels for you

no one can deny it

you'd be just breathing and he'd be like

ohmygod shes so cute hskshsdjdjksajjdjdks

and you two are like the cutest badass couple ever

but at first it was very completely different

simply because you're a snake and he's a lion

and he hated the Slytherin house because of his family

he hated every single person in Slytherin, and he wasn't really ashamed of that

poor baby he deserved a better family than those assholes :(

one day he happened to accidentally bump into you

and he was going to help you

bc his family was shitty but they taught him some manners

but he abruptly stopped when he saw the green in your robes

and he said something rude and left

but you definitely did not stay quiet

so you just argued with him

and told him to go to hell ooops

and he was like :O

and then you left with your classmates bc you were going to be late to Divination

and Sirius was fucking intrigued

i mean???????

and then when they arrived at the Gryffindor common room

Remus scolded him for being rude to people, specifically Slytherins

and told him to apologize for his childishness

and Sirius was like "hahahaha nice joke Moony"

but he realised Remus was being serious

and he was kinda confused bc??? why is he defending the enemies???

anyways

he somehow convinced Sirius to talk to you

which he did, but whining like a child when their parents don't give them a new toy

you thought he was going to say some shit like that day

so you were with your wand in hand, ready to jinx the shit out of him if he did something

that gladly didn't happen

you were extremely confused and you thought it was a prank

but you saw it wasn't

so you accepted his forced apologies

and after some kinda weird moments of you talking

you decided to be not enemies

you weren't friends yet but weren't enemies either

well I'll start the part where you two are dating or else it'll get longer than it already is lol

when you started dating

your housemates were like

what the fuck??

and you just kinda ignored them bc you were actually happy with Sirius

and let me teLl you

Sirius is a smoll bean even though he has this badboy fame

he loves to see the things you wrote or drew

he absolutely loves them and always tells you how talented you are and how proud of you he is

I don't even have to say that you two pull pranks together

you just like to mess around together

bc you like each other's company

and being chaotic is a bonus

i mean, who wouldn't want to pull pranks with Sirius and mess around with him??

when you came out as bi to him he was very supportive and was ready to beat the shit out of anyone who dared to say shit about you or your sexuality

Sirius says lgbtq+ rights and fuck jk rowling

anyways

he was so excited when he transformed into Padfoot in front of you for the first time

and he was so proud of himself when you smiled widely and showered him with questions about it

yay

you always stayed with him after the full moon and helped madam Pomfrey

bc you wanted to see your baby alright :(

Sirius is really into pda and 100% would randomly kiss you in public

just because he can lol

you love each other too much

you're the best couple ever change my mind

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meeeeyahhhhh · 5 years ago

Text

Daminette December Day 8: Robin Hood Au

——————————————————————————

Damian Al Gul was not a patient man. When he heard news of a theif stealing from nobility, it would be an understatement to say he was angry. The king, Ra Al Gul, and his subordinates lived lavishly while the rest of the kingdom lived in poverty. Being the grandson of the king, it put him directly next in the line of succession. This Robin Hood would be audacious enough to steal from his kin. They would have to be taught a lesson.

“King Ra, let’s not be too hasty,” his advisor, Tim Drake, pleaded. Though it would fall onto deaf ears, “No one knows who Robin Hood is and because of this you would punish the kingdom as a whole?”

“Of course,” the king’s voice was as cold as ice, “they need to be taught a lesson. Think of the people as dogs. If they are not disciplined, then they will never obey.”

Tim looked horrified by that statement. He knew the king was cruel, but cruel enough to not value the lives of those he ruled would inevitably cost him the crown. Damian, who had been listening to this confrontation, may not have shown his love for the kingdom, but it was there. He knew his grandfather would let the entire kingdom burn before admitting defeat. “Damian,” his grandfather called, “They are yours and you are able to do as you see fit.”

‘You’re right, Grandfather, I’ll do as I see fit,’ Damian thought bitterly. He’d do what he’d have to to ensure the future of the kingdom. Damian Al Gul is not a patient man, he can’t just wait for Robin Hood to be apprehended or for Ra to die. He would have to do everything himself. His plan needed to be enacted faster then previously expected, no matter it will be done and Damian will succeed even at the price of his soul.

The thief, who the kingdom took kindly to calling them “Robin Hood,” was the orphaned daughter of bakers. Her name was Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Her parents died due to them falling ill and couldn’t afford the medication needed to save them. That was the final push Marinette needed to fight against the rich. This would be no ordinary heist, this was war. All goods stolen went directly back to the community. This resulted in a following of the Robin Hood persona. However, as all of this happened during the cover of night, no one knew who Robin Hood was. Most assumed a man because a woman wasn’t that clever. Most nobility underestimated the women of the time and what pleasure it brought Marinette to know of their suffering.

Marinette needed to slow down, she was prone to spells of clumsiness. Another selling point as to why no one suspected her to be the smoking gun, how could such a sly thief be a clumsy peasant girl. A certain god of destruction helped with that. Plagg, Kwamii of destruction and bad luck, chose Marinette to be his vessel. With the help from the cat Marinette could disappear into the shadows of the night. How ironic that the kingdom crowned her the prey of her transformed form. Nevertheless she would creep, stalk, and hunt her prey for the good of the nation. It’s a shame that her plan would be intrupted.

It happened on the 8th of December of the year 1519 A.D. Robin Hood fell through on a job. She got sloppy. A child had been involved and threw her off her usual rhythm. On this night Marinette’s sights were set on a Duke that lived near the palace, a high risk target. She didn’t know that the Prince had been watching her activity and predicted her next move. Prince Damian Al Gul was expecting a man and did not anticipate a woman in a cat suit. Her eyes were glowing an electric blue, her suit was loose with many pockets, her hair was long and braided it mimicked a tail, a staff was at her side, and sharp claws were visible. He also hadn’t expected her to destroy the chains he bound her in, “Sayonara, Your Highness!” With that she vanished within the night.

The days following had both Marinette and Damian on high alert. Robin Hood had not been active in seven days and the Prince was trying to convince his grandfather that the culprit was a woman with powers. “There’s no need to punish the whole kingdom, it’s a woman with blue eyes that can destroy anything with a single touch and long hair. The others need not be effected.”

“They help aid and abed a known criminal. They are as bad as them, and are you certain it was a woman? They aren’t smart nor strong enough to achieve such feats, perhaps the night tricked you. There is no such thing as magic,” Ra laughed heartily.

“I know what I saw,” Damian’s voice steeled, “you shouldn’t underestimate an opponent you’ve never encountered. It was definitely a woman, I’m sure of it,” Ra dismissed Damian saying how he was fooled. Damian would kill him before Christmas Eve, he swore it.

Robin Hood took a hiatus for one week before heading back onto the saddle. She hit lower risk nobles. The poor surrounding towns have been receiving copycats and claiming to be Robin Hood. All of which were males, therefore Damian didn’t even bat an eye at these claims. He didn’t understand how she could just vanish from every scene. Not a trace could be found at any of the nobles’ homes. It made him livid.

Marinette had been working odd jobs in an effort to keep food on the table for herself. She never once kept her heist rewards, all of it went back to the people. If she kept it all, she would be no better then the nobels she stole from. Redistribution of wealth would have to come eventually to keep from another French Revolution. The king should be thanking her, without “Robin Hood” the people of the kingdom would have certainly overthrown him by now. All Ra seems to be doing now is sitting on his laurel in the palace. He seems to be on a warpath because of her though.

The people of France are now being punished with lower rations, the king says until “Robin Hood” is turned in, the rations will continue to decrease. Marinette contemplated revealing herself so that the rest would not suffer because of her, but then the people of France said they would defend Robin Hood till their dying breath. “Robin Hood is the only reason my children are still alive,” one citizen shouts, “and you expect me to turn my savior in? Who are we Judas?”

The others seemed to murmur or nod in agreement. Marinette was almost brought to tears. The people of France regarded her as their hero, and as far as they were concerned Robin Hood was their true monarch.

Damian, however, was becoming increasingly more and more frustrated with Ra and Robin Hood. His plan to kill Ra would be complete by sunrise on the 23rd of December, but he was getting nowhere when it came to her. That was until a certain female baker was hired by the palace.

‘She is beautiful,’ Damian thought to himself. He did not know her name, but boy did she take his breath away whenever she walked near him. Her eyes we the most gorgeous blue he’d ever seen, her hair was short and pulled away by two ponytails. She was a goddess in mortal form. Every time she graced him with her presence, he’d drop everything to stop and stare. The baker was none other than Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

She knew the job was risky, but what’s life without a little risk. She had to be careful though, the prince constantly had eyes on her. He never spoke to her, but was always watching her. There’s no way he could recognize her, last time he saw her she was wearing the Miraculous. It’s impossible, so why was he so interested in her?

Marinette was still active as Robin Hood, she never stoped. She wasn’t as frequent, but not once did she stop. This was about something more then her safety, there were real lives on the line and all were counting on her. The palace should probably up their security, how did no one realize that she was in the palace?

Oh, they did. It was just Tim Drake’s idea to keep silent. If Ra wanted to look at them like animals, then Tim would give him animals. They weren’t obedient dogs for his bidding, the people were foxes that were plotting against every move that was made. All but the nobels knew that Robin Hood was part of the palace staff and the staff would do anything to protect one of their own.

The 22nd night of December rolled around and everything was in place for the fall of Ra. Damian had spent weeks of preparation just to ensure the perfect crime. After his mother’s disappearance, Damian’s skill set began to incorporate some less then legal activities. He knew of the types of poison Ra became immune too, he knew of Ra’s intensive knowledge of combat, he knew the interworkings of the castle’s interior. Every piece was in place, noting was left to chance.

The only unknown variable would be the appearance of Robin Hood. Ever since their first encounter, they’ve seemed to slow their pace. They didn’t stop though. It was weird how she was attacking smaller fish other then the big leagues. But she would be a headache for another day, today Damian needed to get rid of his beloved grandfather and he knew just the way to do it. He bumped into someone, “I-I’m sorry Prince Damian! I wasn’t l-looking where I was going!”

Damian recognized the voice as the baker’s, he drew a breath. He was the one who actually bumped into her, “N-No,” he cleared his throat, “No, it was my fault.”

A flush creeped its way up his neck. He didn’t understand it, Damian had experienced attraction to women before. But with her, it was like breathing for the first time. He didn’t know how to explain it, she made his stomach do somersaults and caused his mind to go blank. “Umm,” she spoke again, “well, I think it’s time I take my leave.”

“Wait!” Damian grabbed her wrist and quickly let go after turning off autopilot, “What’s your name?”

“My name?” She questioned.

“Yes, what do they call you, other than a vision of beauty.”

It was Marinette’s turn to be embarrassed now, “O-Oh, my name’s Marinette! Marinette Dupain-Cheng!”

“Marinette,” he said as if it was a spell on his tongue, “what a beautiful name to match the face of the beholder.”

Not knowing how to respond to that Marinette bowed to take her leave. After she left, Damian snapped out of his daze and continued to push his plan into motion.

*Line break*

It was the morning of December 23rd and King Ra was found dead in his bed. He died in his sleep with no signs of foul play. Oh, but foul play was at work. This left a vacancy for the throne. A vacancy that would be filled by Damian Al Gul, Heir to the throne.

After his coronation, Damian started a initiative to improve the kingdom’s poverty situation. Damian knew the Noble families horded their wealths like dragons protecting their treasure, but that would no longer be acceptable. Damian made the kingdom’s economy flurish within 2 years time. And during that time, Robin Hood retired. She said the kingdom no longer needed her.

Marinette continued her work in the palace, she as promoted as assistant to the crown in no time. She spent more and more time with the king and grew an affection for him. But in order to sustain a life, she’d need to find a husband as were the times. Tim Drake seemed like the safest choice, they were best friends. She knew Tim and a man named Conner Kent were infatuated with each other, but not everyone was as accepting as Marinette was.

Her and the king had their daily chat as he was doing his daily duties when Marinette brought up the subject, “Do you think Timothy Drake would make a good husband?”

Damian raised and eyebrow, “Yes, why do you ask?”

“I’m wondering if I should pursue him as a husband or not,” she said plainly.

“W-What?” Damian spat his wine out, “W-Why would you need you pursue him as a husband?”

“I need a husband to sustain myself. I don’t want to marry Tim, but in order to keep my family legacy alive I will need a husband.”

“True, but Tim?” Damian tried to keep his distain to himself as much as he physically could.

“What’s wrong with Tim?” Marinette asked quited angered.

“Oh, nothing... if you enjoy talking to a wet, half-asleep napkin!”

“Hey!” Marinette snapped, “That’s my friend and yours, remember that. My king,” Damian knew me messed up, she only called him king whenever he really made her mad, “do you have a better solution?”

“I-I...” he couldn’t think of anything.

“That’s what I assumed,” Marinette huffed, “Please refrian from talking bad about him like that. What is wrong?”

“Nothing,” ‘Everything that you said’ Damian’s kind took over.

Marinette had left the room, the atmosphere became too much for her. She went to help the other servants in the neighboring rooms. It was then Damian decided he would ask her to marry him.

Damian was never a patient man, remember?

——————————————————————————

A/N: I’m sorry for not posting for day seven. I wasn’t feeling the prompt for it and didn’t want to give y’all something subpar in comparison to the other thing I’m capable of creating for you. Still, thank you for continuing to read, like, comment, and reblog my work! It’s crazy to think so many of you enjoy my work! If you want to be added to the tag list all you have to do is comment or send an ask!

Tag list: @daminette-december2019 @persephonebutkore @gingerdaile @seraphichana @mystery-5-5 @krispydefendorpolice @jardimazul @royalchaoticfangirl @theoryfan205 @goblinwhoships @emeraldpuffguide @spicybelladonna @thesunanditsangel @coltaire

#daminette december #robin hood au #damian wayne #marinette dupain cheng #tim drake #ra al gul #damian al ghul #damian x marinette #damientte #maribat #lady noire #prince!damian #robin hood!Marinette

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pikapeppa · 5 years ago

Text

Fenris/f!Hawke and the Inquisition: Choice

Chapter 66 of Lovers In A Dangerous Time (i.e. Fenris the Inquisitor) is up on AO3!

In which Fenris tells the Exalted Council to shove it what the future of the Inquisition will be, and everyone gets to finally relax. **CANON-DIVERGENT SPOILERS ABOUND, so scroll on if you aren’t caught up and you care about spoils!**

Full chapter is ~7600 words, and includes some smutty smut. Read on AO3 instead.

*****************

Fenris raised an eyebrow at Dorian. “Stop gaping at me.”

Dorian immediately looked away. “I wasn’t gaping. I don’t gape,” he said loftily. “I’m not a fish.”

Fenris grunted. “You could have fooled me.” In truth, he couldn’t blame Dorian for staring; Fenris couldn’t stop looking at his own skin, either. Every time he reached for a quill or picked up an apple or lifted his hand to run his fingers through his hair, the sight of his own unmarked hands was like a constant exclamation mark in his mind, perking his attention and reminding him that he was normal.

He wasn’t a mage. He wasn’t a marked and tainted slave, and he wasn’t a warrior whose magic had been forced into the marks on his skin. He was a normal man, and he was free.

Nearly free, in any case. Hence the informal procession he and Hawke were leading toward the great hall where the Exalted Council were convened.

Dorian sniffed. “That’s offensive. I’m nothing like a fish. If I resemble any animal, it’s a graceful and vicious tiger.”

Sera snorted. “You are too like a fish!”

Dorian shot her a resentful look. “How dare you say such a thing?”

“Fish are flashy,” she said matter-of-factly. “You know, scales and that? Flashy fish, flashy you.”

“Hey, you’re right,” Varric said. “He is pretty flashy, with the buckles and the rings.”

Dorian tsked. “Flashy is one thing. Fishy is quite another.” He elbowed Bull’s hip. “Why aren’t you defending me?”

“Sorry, kadan,” Bull said. “I couldn’t focus over your flashy buckles.”

Rainier chuckled. “Even your fabrics are flashy now, Dorian. Is that the fashion in Tevinter these days?”

Dorian barked out a laugh. “Someone mark this day on the calendar! Thom Rainier uses the word ‘fashion’. I wasn’t aware you knew the meaning of the word.”

Rainier scoffed into his beard, and Hawke laughed and patted Rainier’s burly arm. “Hey, that’s not nice! I think Thom has a very appealing aesthetic.”

“Thank you, Hawke,” he said. Then he scratched his beard. “Er, what does that mean?”

Sera cackled and Hawke grinned, but Cole was the one to answer. “Big and burly, beautiful beard. The axe looks small in his hands, rough and rugged hands for running over my skin. I wonder if he’s single?”

Hawke’s jaw dropped in delight. Rainier’s eyes widened, and Varric chuckled. “Sounds like someone has an admirer.”

“No kidding!” Hawke crowed. She poked Cole’s arm. “Whose thoughts were those?”

He looked around vaguely. “She’s not here.”

Bull huffed in amusement. “Real helpful, Cole. Thanks.”

Varric rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Well, it’s got to be someone who’s seen the hero chopping wood behind the stables.”

Hawke tutted. “That could be anyone! Everyone in the Inquisition has gone by the stables at one point or another to visit the nuggalopes.”

Rainier grunted. “True. Those damned beasts are the most popular in the stables. Not sure why.”

Dorian smiled charmingly at him. “Some might say the same about you.”

Rainier snorted. “Oh shut it, Pavus.”

The others chuckled and continued to poke fun at each other, but the mention of the nuggalopes raised a fresh concern in Fenris’s mind. Damned nuggalopes, he thought ruefully. The problem wasn’t just the nuggalopes, in fact, but the Inquisition’s entire range of odd steeds. Who would look after them? Would Dennet be willing to take them back to the Hinterlands with him? Perhaps they could be gifted to the agents of the Inquisition who could use them best?

He stopped himself before he could start sinking too deeply into the problem. This was an issue that could be delegated, likely to Josephine. It was absolutely not necessary for Fenris to worry about this.

He smiled to himself. Then Hawke’s fingers slid gently over his wrist.

He looked at her. She smiled up at him and twined her fingers with his. “How are you?” she asked.

“I’m well,” he said, and he savoured the novelty of this statement actually being true.

“Good,” she said. “Hang on to that feeling. Sounds like you’re about to get into it.” She jerked her thumb at the closed doors to the great hall.

Fenris pursed his lips. Already he could hear Cyril’s raised voice through the doors. “... and now we stand on the brink of war with the qunari?”

“Yes,” Teagan snapped, “because this Solas provoked them in the first place!”

Josephine’s calm voice was the next to speak. “The Inquisition did not cause this threat. We informed the summit of the danger–”

“The danger posed by qunari spies inside your organization!” Teagan shouted.

Cassandra interrupted in a harder tone than Josephine’s. “Without the Inquisition, none of us would be here to complain.”

Hawke grimaced at Fenris. “Are you ready?”

“Yes,” he said firmly, and he hefted the heavy tome beneath his arm: the same tome that Cassandra had once slammed down on a rough wooden table back in Haven’s little Chantry.

He pushed open the doors to the great hall. The assembled spectators turned, then immediately broke into frenzied murmuring.

“The Inquisitor! He looks different, non?”

“Where are his Dalish tattoos?”

“He’s not Dalish, you idiot. He was a slave. Did you not read The Tale of the Champion?”

“He’s so late! The Council started an hour ago! Do you think he was fighting qunari?”

“Perhaps he was allying with the qunari. I heard he lived with them for a time.”

“Shut your mouth, he’s the Herald. He would never.”

“His hand! The mark of Andraste is gone!”

“Does that mean Andraste has forsaken him?”

Fenris ignored them and made his way to the table where Josephine was sitting by herself. “You couldn’t wait for me, I see,” he murmured.

She gave him the tiniest hint of a smile. “I tried, Fenris, believe me. You spoke to Leliana this morning?”

“I did,” he said. Leliana had coached him in what he was about to say – which was, of course, why Josephine was asking.

He placed the tome on the table and looked up at the high table, where Cassandra was sandwiched between Cyril and Teagan. “I apologize for my lateness,” he said. “But you will be pleased to know I have reached a decision about the Inquisition’s future.”

Teagan’s eyebrows leapt up on his forehead. “You have reached a decision? That is not your choice to make!”

“It is, in fact,” Fenris said. He tapped the tome. “This is the writ from the late and revered Divine Justinia authorizing the reformation of the Inquisition.” He flipped open the book. “Here on page 147, it clearly states the following: ‘It is the Inquisition’s duty and goal to act in the interest of the people of Thedas. To protect them from the dangers borne of the Breach and to guide the return of peace to all nations where such guidance is so required. The Inquisitor's judgment shall be exercised to determine when those goals have been met.’” He looked up and raised his eyebrows expectantly.

Cyril shifted slightly in his seat, but Teagan sat forward and glared viciously at Fenris. “You would abuse this power for your own gains?”

“My aim here is not to abuse this power,” Fenris said. “My aim is to point out that you have been correct. During the past two days, we acted beyond the bounds of this writ.” He raised his voice slightly so everyone in the room would hear. “In stopping the qunari plot to invade Thedas and to kill the leaders of every nation herein, the Inquisition acted beyond our bounds.”

A murmur of interest and alarm rose from the crowd, just as Fenris had known it would, and Teagan swelled with anger. “You – this is – don’t you dare act as though you played no role in this!” he shouted. “You had qunari spies within the Inquisition!”

Fenris bowed his head. “This is unfortunately true. An unfortunate truth that we seem to share with Orlais.”

Another murmur, louder this time, rose from the onlookers, and Fenris breathed slowly to master his discomfort at the attention. At the high table, Teagan finally leaned back and glared at Cyril instead.

Cyril shifted, then rested his fingers delicately on the table. “Be that as it may, Inquisitor, the Arl is correct. You stepped beyond your authority here at the Winter Palace. Your soldiers attempted to wrest control of the palace from the Orlesian guards.”

“That is true,” Fenris admitted. “And it is for reasons such as this that I have made my decision about the future of the Inquisition.” He looked directly at Cassandra. “A woman of great wisdom once told me that there is strength in picking up the mantle of responsibility when a guiding hand is needed. But there is also strength in knowing when to let that mantle go. In knowing that tyranny and complacency are always on the horizon, and to set power aside before we fall prey to its gaping maw.” He lifted his chin. “The time has come for the Inquisition to retire this mantle. We had a purpose: to close the Breach, to destroy those responsible, and to do our part in restoring order. We achieved these goals; we met our purpose. And thus I declare the Inquisition disbanded.”

An outcry of surprise and interest rose from the gawking crowd, but Fenris ignored them; Cassandra was smiling proudly at him, and hers was the only reaction he cared about.

He smiled back at her, then bowed briefly to the Council before turning away. He caught Josephine’s eye, and the relief in her smile only helped reinforce his conviction.

He made his way along the aisle toward the exit and tried not to listen to the chatter of the crowd. As he neared the doors, his companions rose from the benches at the back of the room. Together as a group, they left the great hall.

As soon as the doors of the great hall closed behind them, Hawke propped her fists on her hips. “Well! I don’t know about the rest of you, but I think this calls for some punch.”

Rainier and Bull murmured their agreement, and Sera did an excited little hop. “Punch! Punch! Do some punch!”

Dorian groaned. “Oh no, not that damned punch.”

Varric raised an eyebrow. “Sparkler, you love that punch. You said so two days ago.”

“How drunk was I at the time?” Dorian said archly.

“Pretty damn drunk,” Varric admitted.

Dorian folded his arms. “I rest my case.”

Hawke poked Dorian’s arm. “I would be offended by your attitude if getting you all terribly drunk wasn’t my favourite goal. Now come on, who needs a drink?”

Fenris huffed. “Dare I point out that it is barely ten o’ clock?”

Hawke raised her eyebrows. “Oh shit, you’re right. Well, I’ll throw some orange juice into the mix then.”

Sera laughed, and Rainier patted Hawke’s shoulder. “Always with a solution, Hawke.”

Bull grunted in agreement. “A solution for getting drunk at the least respectable times of the day: that’s a woman after my own heart.”

Dorian tsked and smacked his arm. “Are you trying to make me jealous? I’m standing right here.”

Rainier smirked at him. “As though we could forget. You know, with all the flashing buckles.”

“And the fishy scale fabric,” Sera added.

“It is very shiny,” Cole agreed, and Sera jumped and scowled.

“And the rings,” Bull said. “Do you really need so many rings, kadan?”

Dorian gave Fenris a pitiful look. “Fenris, they’re picking on me. Do something.”

“I can’t,” Fenris said pleasantly. “I have no authority anymore.”

Dorian scoffed. “Some friend you are. You know, just for this, I’ll be sure to call you on the sending crystal at all hours of the morning – even earlier than this. I shall call repeatedly until you are forced to take my calls, and I will tell you in exhaustive detail all about the trivial minutiae of magisterial life…”

Fenris turned to Hawke. “Remind me to destroy the sending crystal,” he said dryly.

Hawke chuckled and looped her hand through his elbow, and their group meandered leisurely through the Winter Palace’s halls. There was much lighthearted talk about a game of wicked grace in the tavern while Varric read to them from the first chapter draft of his new book, and Fenris listened contentedly without saying much.

Hawke stroked his arm. “Are you all right?”

He gave her a chiding look. “There is no need to keep asking. I promise you, I’m fine.” He lowered his voice. “I should be asking how you feel. How is our turnip?”

She smiled and squeezed his arm. “I’m tired, but the turnip is great. Sucking all my energy, growing its little ears and fingers, you know.”

He smiled at her, then sighed and lowered his voice. “If I’m perfectly honest, I am tired too. What I really want at this moment is a bath and a nap.” After returning from the Crossroads and debriefing with Leliana, Josephine and Cullen, Fenris had barely gotten three hours of sleep last night.

“Maker, yes,” she said fervently. “A bath and a nap would be so good.”

He raised an eyebrow, and Hawke smiled. Then she pulled him to a stop. “Change of plans,” she announced to the group. “I’m going to take a nap because I’m pregnant, and Fenris is going to rub my feet because I’m spoiled.”

Sera rolled her eyes. “Boring.”

“I agree,” Dorian said. “That’s very boring.”

Rainier shrugged. “I think it’s a good idea. Hawke should get some rest.”

Hawke batted her eyelashes at him. “Why thank you, Thom! That’s the kind of attitude I like to see in one of our baby’s many uncles.”

Rainier’s cheeks turned pink with pleasure. Varric folded his arms and shot Rainier a knowing look. “Suck-up,” he said.

Rainier scoffed. “Says the man who’s been tipping the servants to pay special attention to Hawke since we’ve been here.”

Hawke and Fenris looked at Varric in surprise. “You were?” Fenris asked.

He shrugged. “Eh, I might’ve done. It’s no big deal.”

Fenris smiled at him, Hawke threw her arms around his neck. “I was wondering why I was getting so much attention! Oh Varric, you shouldn’t have.” She kissed him on the cheek.

He patted her arm. “Really, Hawke, it was no big deal.”

Bull tucked his thumbs into his belt. “You’re excited to be an uncle. Just own up to it.”

Cole nodded. “He is excited. ‘Future and family for friends: they deserve it. They’ve been through enough. Babysitting will be fun when they’re in town.’”

Everyone chuckled, and Varric tugged his ear. “Come on, kid, don’t make me look too soft,” he mumbled.

Hawke kissed Varric’s cheek once more before releasing him. “Can I take that as your standing offer to babysit whenever Fenris and I are on holiday in Kirkwall and we want some time alone to–”

“All right, all right, go take your nap,” Varric said loudly. “We’ll be in the Gilded Horn when you guys are done being boring.”

Sera elbowed Hawke. “I’ll save you some boring juice for the wee widdle!”

Hawke chuckled and flicked her ear. “Thanks, Sera. We’ll see you later.”

The others drifted toward the main entrance, still laughing and poking fun at each other, but to Fenris’s surprise, Cole stayed behind.

Hawke squeezed his arm. “Go on, Cole, go play cards with the others! You’re getting better at bluffing every day.”

“Is he?” Fenris said dryly.

Hawke poked him. “Shh. He’s trying.”

Cole blinked at them. “It’s time. I’m going now.”

Fenris gave him a sharp look, and Hawke cocked her head to the side. “What do you mean? Go where?”

“It’s done. You helped,” Cole said. His customary vague gaze drifted from Fenris to Hawke. “Healing hurts, healing the sky, helping. There’s more to help, and I can help best from home.”

Hawke’s eyes widened. “Home? You mean… are you going back to the Fade?”

Cole nodded. “I will slip back safely, a spirit. Someone is hurting. He needs me to remember who he is.”

Hawke’s mouth fell open in surprise at the mention of Solas, and Fenris scowled. “He’s hurting? He is planning the murder of every person in this world!”

Cole shook his head. “He doesn’t want to hurt people. He isn’t that kind of wolf.”

Fenris opened his mouth to argue, but Hawke placed a hand on his wrist. “You know what, Cole? If anyone can get through to him, it’s you,” she said firmly. “He isn’t a complete asshole. Not yet, at least. Can you remind him of that?”

“Yes,” Cole said simply.

Hawke smiled at him, then pulled him into a hug. “What am I going to do without you exposing all my dirty thoughts in public?” she asked. “I’ll have to start telling them to random people myself.”

“As though that is any different than usual,” Fenris teased.

She shot him a quick grin, and he noted with a pang that her eyes were wet. A long moment later, she released Cole and rubbed her nose. “Don’t forget to say goodbye to Varric before you go, all right? He’ll be sad if you don’t.”

Cole nodded, then tilted his head. “It’ll be all right, Hawke. I’m not really gone.”

“I know,” she said softly. “Thanks, Cole.”

“Yes, thank you for your assistance,” Fenris said. Then, after a moment’s hesitation, he held out his hand to shake.

Cole studied Fenris’s hand quizzically, then tentatively reached out and shook his hand. Fenris nodded, then released Cole’s hand. “We will not forget you,” he said.

Cole smiled. “Thank you,” he said. A blink of an eye later, he was gone.

Hawke sniffled. Fenris gently squeezed her waist, and she smiled brightly and waved her hand. “I’m fine, I’m fine,” she said hurriedly. “I’m not going to blubber too much, I swear. We knew everyone was going to go their own way eventually. Besides, we’re leaving too. And it’s not like we won’t all stay in touch.” She took his hand as they made their way toward their suite. “I mean, we’ll have to stay in touch anyway for–”

Fenris cleared his throat and kept his eyes ahead. There was no telling who was listening in the blasted hallways here.

Hawke pulled a little face and fell silent. They walked the rest of the way to their suite in silence, and it wasn’t until they were inside with the doors locked that Hawke spoke. “Sorry,” she said. “It’ll take me a while to get used to the ‘no blurting out every thought in your head because you’re a spy’ thing.” She crouched beside an eagerly panting Toby and scratched his jowls.

“It will take time for both of us,” Fenris assured her. “Leliana knows that.” He patted Toby’s head briefly before shucking his formal coat.

Hawke grinned at him. “I’m excited to learn her secret cipher, though. Can I practice it by writing you dirty letters?”

Fenris smirked at her. “Dirty letters in Leliana’s secret cipher? That is hardly romantic.”

She giggled as she rose to her feet. “You like the idea. Admit it.”

He shrugged and hung his coat in the armoire. “Perhaps I’ll write dirty cipher letters for you,” he said casually.

She threw her head back and laughed. “Maker’s balls, yes! Please do! I like that idea even better.” She gave Toby’s head one last pat, then wafted into the bathroom and began filling the ornate bathtub.

She started stripping off her clothes, and Fenris began stripping too. By the time he was padding over to the tub, Hawke was already sinking into the water with a sigh. “This is fucking bliss,” she announced. She playfully flicked some water at him. “Come on in, the water’s warm.”

He eyed the glowing runes inscribed on the inner surfaces of the tub. This was an Orlesian extravagance that he could actually appreciate. He stepped into the tub, then sighed in relief: the water was perfectly hot just as Hawke had said, and Fenris happily settled himself on the opposite side of the tub from her.

He scooped some water in his hands and splashed his face, then briefly dunked his head beneath the water. When he rose to the surface and opened his eyes, it was to find Hawke smiling goofily at him.

Her eyes were on his forehead. He instinctively reached up to wipe his face, then remembered why she was staring: the trio of lyrium marks on his forehead were gone.

He lowered his hand and raised an eyebrow. “I really look that strange to you?”

She shook her head slightly. She was still smiling, and her eyes were roaming from his chin down to his neck now. “In the best way,” she assured him. “It’s going to be strange for a while. You’ll need to cut me some slack and let me stare.”

He huffed in amusement. “Fair enough,” he said. He picked up the loofah on the side of the tub and began to rub his arms – his plain, unmarred, tawny-skinned arms.

He wiped his shoulder down to his elbow and then his forearm, and all the while he kept staring at his own skin. On the inside of his arm, a handspan below his wrist, he had a long fine scar from a nasty scrap during his flight from Minrathous. His hands bore a number of faint dark lines from the days when he was learning to climb trees and fight with daggers in Seheron, and the veins in his forearms stood out in sharp relief when he closed his fists.

He gazed happily at the scars and veins: mundane marks of the type that anyone could have. The type that nobody would usually think about, and the type that Fenris had never really paid attention to before because the lyrium tattoos were in the way.

Hawke shifted toward him with a soft whisper of moving water. “Let me do that,” she said.

She was reaching for the loofah. Fenris gave it to her, and she settled herself over his lap. She squeezed the extra water from the loofah, then began soaping it up.

He let his hands sink into the water to rest on her thighs, and she smiled coyly at him. “I’ll need one of those hands, please,” she said.

He lifted his left hand from the water, and Hawke lathered his hand with the loofah. She carefully washed the back of his hand, then his wrist, then smoothed the soapy loofah along his forearm to his elbow and his shoulder, and all the while her eyes were moving attentively over his unmarked skin.

She sluiced some water over his skin to rinse the soap away, then began carefully washing his right arm. “So I had an idea. I think you and I should write a book.”

“A book?” he said. “About what?”

“About the things we know,” she said. “Stuff we learned from the eluvians and from, uh… from Solas.” She made a little face, then began gently lathering his neck with her soapy hands.

He gave her a skeptical look. “You want to write a book about the things he said?”

“Not just him,” she said quickly. “The spirit in the Vir Dirthara, too. And the things we saw, what those memory-books were like, meeting Mythal and all the shit she said…” She rinsed his neck. “And not just that, but the deep roads too. The Titan’s heart, the thaig where we found the red lyrium idol with Varric, all that.”

Fenris frowned slightly. “Just so I understand, this isn’t a fictional account you’re talking about.”

She let out a little laugh. “No no, that’s Varric’s purview. I’m talking about a non-fiction sort of thing. Like a… a treatise or something.”

He raised his eyebrows. “A treatise? Like an academic text?”

“Exactly!” she said. “We’ve seen a lot of insane shit, Fenris. We’ve been through eluvians and into the Fade and we’ve met two elven gods and been to the deep roads how many times now?”

“This is true,” he said slowly.

She shrugged and gently scrubbed his chest. “I just thought – I mean, if we’re…” She lowered her voice. “If we’re going to be Leliana’s intelligence agents, this is the intelligence we have. We spent the most time with Solas during the year that he was with us–”

“You especially,” Fenris pointed out. Then he regretted it when her smile faltered slightly.

“Exactly,” she said. “I just… I thought something good could come of it if we, you know, document it.”

He tilted his head and studied her thoughtfully. “Knowledge is power,” he mused.

She gave him a quizzical look, so he explained. “If we document this – all the things we’ve seen and heard… if we publish it and share it with those we trust, those we know who won’t abuse it…”

Hawke finished his thought. “You’ll be sharing the power with other people.” She smirked at him. “Solas would not approve.”

“Good,” Fenris said flatly. “He can operate as he sees fit, and we will do the same.”

Hawke smiled slowly. “Does that mean you’ll write a book with me?”

“It is a fine idea,” he said. “My answer is yes. I will write a book with you.”

She beamed at him, then playfully pinched his chin. “If you have time in between writing me those dirty cipher letters, that is.”

He smirked. “Of course.”

She planted a happy little kiss on his lips before tapping his collarbone. “Come on, handsome, turn around now so I can wash your back.”

He took her hand in his. “Hawke,” he said.

She tilted her head, and he gently squeezed her hand. “You are not to blame for Solas’s betrayal,” he said quietly.

She dropped his gaze and picked up the soap. “No, you’re – it’s okay, you were right. I was too trusting. He was hiding all that shit from us the whole time, and I just–”

He tipped her chin up and looked her in the eye. “You are not to blame,” he said firmly. “You could not have known this. No one could have guessed at this.”

“But you do think I’m too trusting,” she said pointedly.

He sighed and cradled her neck in his palm. “You see the best in people,” he said softly. “Even those who don’t deserve the boon of a second chance. It is the most infuriating and enthralling thing about you.”

She laughed lightly. “I think that’s a compliment, but I can’t be sure.”

“Take it as a compliment,” he said seriously. “This life would be bleak and cynical without you.”

Her face softened with surprise before lighting into a brilliant smile. She cupped his face in her hands. “You smooth talker,” she murmured.

“Mm,” he agreed lazily. He lifted his chin, and she followed his wordless suggestion and kissed him.

Fenris closed his eyes and relaxed into her kiss. Her lips were soft and plump, and her hands were sliding slowly down his chest. When her fingers trailed over his abs, his cock stirred beneath the water.

He gently licked Hawke’s lower lip. Her breath caught as a tiny gasp, and the sound lit a thrill beneath his unmarked skin. She peeled her lips away from his, then kissed his chin and the edge of his jaw, and Fenris tilted his head back with a sigh. Her palms were splayed on his abs now and her lips were travelling along the line of his throat, and when she licked the line of his collarbone, he released a slow and luxurious breath.

She gently nipped the juncture of his neck and shoulder, and a shiver of pleasure rippled down the back of his neck. He lifted his hips entreatingly, and Hawke settled herself more firmly on his lap.

She tilted her hips low and pressed against him, rolling her hips in a slow and gentle grind over his cock, and his breath hitched at the teasing touch. The water was hot and soothing, but the tantalizing press of her body and the press of her fingers on his skin made him want a different sort of soothing heat altogether.

She nipped his shoulder again, then gave his earlobe a little tug with her lips. “Do you want to get out now?” she whispered.

“Yes,” he breathed.

She smiled against his cheek, then shifted off of his body and rose to her feet, and Fenris greedily studied the curves of her bottom and the dip at the base of her spine as she stepped out of the tub. He exited the tub as well and roughly rubbed his wet hair with a towel, but before he could start drying his skin, Hawke reached out and took his hand.

“Let me do it,” she said.

He gave her a chiding look, but allowed her to take the towel from his hand. “You are aware that I’m capable of bathing and drying myself?” he said.

She wrinkled her nose playfully, then started dabbing his chest with the towel. “Indulge me. This gives me a good excuse to stare at you while pretending to be helpful.”

He shook his head in amusement. “You are shameless.”

“I really am!” she said brightly. “Thank you for noticing.” She moved around behind him and began smoothing the towel over his back.

She followed the path of the towel with her fingers, tracing gentle lines over the span of his skin as she patted him dry, and by the time her hands were smoothing over his hips and buttocks, his eyes were closed and his breathing was deep and slow: all the better to savour the feel of her hands on his skin – his clean, unmarred, unmarked skin.

Hawke pressed her lips between his shoulder blades in a gentle kiss. She slowly moved around in front of him, leaving a trail of kisses from his shoulder blade to his arm and finally his chest, and Fenris simply breathed and focused on the feeling of her lips on his chest and her hands on his hips. When her hands slid down his thighs, he shuddered and opened his eyes.

Hawke was on her knees in front of him. She looked up to meet his gaze, and a rush of want pulsed through his chest and down to his cock.

A grin lifted her lips – her raspberry-red lips that were mere inches from his eager cock. “You’re not too tired for this, are you?” she asked.

“No,” he said immediately. “No, I – no. You can – I want this.”

She smiled more widely, then leaned forward on her knees and brushed her cheek against his shaft.

He jerked his hips, and Hawke let out a throaty little laugh. “Hold on, handsome. I have to dry you off first,” she purred. She began dabbing his thighs and calves with the towel, but her other hand was the one that was stealing all of Fenris’s attention: it was curving around the back of his other thigh, then along his inner thigh to graze his balls, and he shifted his hips restlessly at the teasing touch.

She suddenly licked the tip of his cock, and he gasped. “Vixen,” he accused breathlessly.

She chuckled again. “Hardly. I’m just doing my job, drying you off, making sure you won’t catch cold…”

He raised an eyebrow. “Catch cold from my legs being damp?”

“That’s right,” she said. Her tone was cheeky, but her eyes were moving slowly over his chest and his abs again as though to take in every inch of his unmarked skin. When her eyes returned to his face, he was surprised to find them shining with tears.

He cradled her chin in one hand. “What’s the matter?”

She smiled and shook her head. “Nothing,” she said. “Absolutely nothing. That’s why I…” She let out a little laugh and wiped her eyes. “I’m just happy,” she said. Then she leaned forward and took his cock in her mouth.

He gasped at the sudden heat of her mouth. She angled her head and took him deeper, and he gasped again and braced his palms behind him on the bathtub. His cock was sliding past her palate toward her throat, and her hands were firm on his hips and her skin was bare, and her nipples were dusky buds dappled with drops of water that were begging for his tongue…

She suckled his cock, strong slick pulls of her lips and throat and tongue, and Fenris shuddered at the sheer unmitigated pleasure of it. Hawke was eager and voracious, taking his length with hungry pulls and palming his balls with the perfect gentle grip, and it wasn’t long before the pleasure was rushing through his abdomen and his cock, roiling and buzzing between his legs with an eagerness that her lips were pulling forth–

His climax burst in a sudden rush, and he shuddered and cried out. “Hawke,” he gasped.

She gripped his thighs and suckled him firmly, and he shuddered again as she pulled every drop of pleasure from his pulsing cock. When she finally released him, he was leaning bonelessly against the bathtub for support, and she was smiling smugly.

“Was that all right?” she asked.

He exhaled heavily and lifted her chin. “You know it was,” he rasped. “Go lie on the bed.”

She laughed as she rose to her feet. “Nice try, serrah, but I’m in charge today.” She playfully pinched his chin. “You go lie down on the bed.”

He tossed her a skeptical look as he approached the bed. “I thought you enjoyed my bossy tone.”

“Oh, I do,” she said with relish. “But today I want to stare at my handsome husband.”

He huffed in exasperation and rubbed a hand through his hair. “Someday you will tire of flattering me.”

“Not a chance,” she said cheerfully. “But this isn’t flattery. Come on, lie down.” She pushed gently on his shoulders.

He sighed, but shuffled back on the bed and stretched out with one arm tucked behind his head. “There. Are you satisfied?” he drawled.

She shot him a quick grin. “I will be,” she said lasciviously. She kneeled beside his hip and ran her palm over his knee.

Her touch was unhurried and exploratory now, sliding carefully along his thigh and up to his hip, and Fenris watched curiously as her cheeky expression melted into a gentle sort of contentment. Her eyes roved carefully over his chest and his collarbones and up to his chin, and when her eyes finally found his face, they were shining again.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” she said.

He scoffed, and she laughed and poked his hip. “I know, I know, I’m being hormonal and dramatic, but I mean it. You – you’ve always been the most gorgeous man I’ve ever laid eyes on. But now, you’re…” She took a deep breath, and her eyes travelled over the blank tawny canvas of his skin.

She met his gaze once more. “You know I loved your tattoos in a way. Not – not the tattoos themselves, but–”

“I know, Hawke,” he said softly. “I know what you mean.”

She nodded. “I loved them for bringing you to Kirkwall. They… we wouldn’t know each other without your tattoos.” She smiled slowly. “But seeing you without them… This is so much better. This is what you wanted.” She skimmed her knuckles over his abdomen. “This was your choice.”

“Yes,” he whispered.

Her smile widened. She lifted his hand and kissed his knuckles, then turned his hand over and kissed the inside of his wrist.

He skimmed her cheek with his fingers. “Come closer,” he murmured. “Lie on top of me.”

She beamed at him. “Ooh, don’t mind if I do,” she said, and she straddled his hips.

Fenris reached up and slid his fingers around the nape of her neck, then gently pulled her down until she was close enough to kiss. “You were my choice,” he told her softly. “Being with you – a chance for more time with you, to live the life I always wanted with you: that was my choice.” He stroked her throat with his thumb. “Losing the tattoos was a happy accident. The real choice I made was you, Hawke. I want you to know that.”

She laughed, and the sound was a little shaky. “I know,” she murmured. “And I want you to know you’re my choice too.”

“I know,” he whispered. And he did. If there was anything Fenris had ever been sure of, anything he’d ever known with unshakeable certainty over the last ten years, it was that he was the one Rynne Hawke had chosen and would continue to choose, forever and a day.

He lifted his chin and kissed her. She smelled of the soap from their bath, and the skin of her arms and back was soft and supple beneath his exploring hands. He stroked her neck and her collarbone as she tangled her tongue smoothly with his, and when her hips started shifting restlessly over his cock, he leaned away from her kiss and squeezed her hip.

“Move up,” he murmured.

She blinked at him, and he slid his hand over her bottom and squeezed. “I want to taste you,” he said.

She exhaled sharply and nodded, and a moment later she was shifting higher on his body to straddle his face. She braced her palms on the padded Orlesian headboard, and Fenris greedily studied her body as she settled herself over him: her perfect petite breasts and her perfect pert nipples, the planes of her belly and the dampness of her curls and the perfect primal scent of her desire as she lowered herself over his lips…

He lifted his chin and graced her with a hungry open-mouthed kiss.

Hawke gasped and arched, pressing herself closer to his mouth, and his cock jerked eagerly at the perfect sound. He wrapped his hands around her thighs to guide her as she rode his face. She was wet and fragrant and warm, and her clit was a perfect swollen bud, and every time he pressed it with his tongue, the most enticing little mewl of pleasure left her throat. The rhythm of her hips was a slow circular grind that matched the stroking swirl of his tongue, and it wasn’t long before Fenris was lost in the rhythm of her body: was Hawke driving herself higher with the rolling of her hips, or was he pushing her to her peak with the swirling of his tongue? He couldn’t tell, and it didn’t matter, because all that mattered was Hawke’s pleasure. It was evident in the tension in her belly and her thighs beneath his hands, and it was evident in the desperate sounds she was making and the pulsing of her clit against his tongue, and when she pounded the headboard and cried out, he was so preoccupied with the taste and the scent and the smooth and silky feel of her pussy on his lips that he didn’t want to stop.

She arched her spine and moaned and continued to ride his face, her movements jerky now in the throes of her pleasure, and Fenris kept feasting on the slickness of her flesh until she lifted herself away from his mouth.

“Fuck,” she whimpered. She shakily slid off of his body and collapsed onto her back, and Fenris rolled onto his side and admired the rise and fall of her chest as she tried to catch her breath.

He smoothed his palm over her breast, and she gasped and arched her back like a bow. “Please,” she whined. “Please, Fenris, I–” She suddenly broke off with a little cry: Fenris was suckling her nipple now while thumbing the peak of her other breast, and her desperate gasps of pleasure were just as pleasing to his ear as the sound of her actual pleas.

He pressed her nipple between his teeth, and she jerked and sank her fingers into his hair. “Please,” she begged. “I need you, I need you to fuck me–”

Fenris clasped her neck and kissed her, and a moment later he was stretched over her and pressing his palms to hers while he pumped his cock through the slickness of her folds.

He breathed hard as he slid through her smooth and creamy heat. She was slick and wet and waiting, and Fenris was sharing in that slickness with every slow pump of his hips, spreading her heat along the length of his shaft and sharing in her lust – sharing in this moment of increasingly desperate desire, just as he had shared every other important moment of his life with her…

She mewled and twisted beneath him, and her nails dug into his knuckles. “Please,” she begged. “Fenris, please fuck me!”

He adjusted his hips and entered her in a smooth, hard thrust.

She cried out and curled her hips toward him, and he moaned against her throat. “I love you,” he breathed.

She gasped and jerked her hips, and he thrust into her once more. Soon they were rolling together in a smooth and driving rhythm, hips rising and falling together in time with their gasping breaths, and Fenris squeezed his eyes shut as her heat and her tightness and her treasured little moans all conspired to pull his pleasure to the fore.

He dipped his head low and suckled her nipple, and she arched and jolted. “Yes!” she wailed. “Yes, yes, oh fuck, please...”

He gasped against the silken curve of her breast. The sound of her voice – fasta vass, her cries, her obvious pleasure, the obviousness of how badly she wanted him right now – no, not just now, but how badly she had always wanted him. How badly she continued to want him, despite the familiarity of the years that had passed and the arguments they always had and the exhausting battles they’d fought…

A rush of heat and longing and gratitude swelled in his chest and in his throat, and he gritted his teeth and fucked her harder.

“Yes!” she screamed. “Fenris, please, I – fuck, I love you so much–”

His climax was sudden and hard, a surge of pleasure that forced a bursting of lights behind his closed eyelids and a sob of pleasure from his throat, and he kissed her hard and fucked her harder still as the ecstasy shivered through his fingertips and his calves down to his toes.

When his pleasure finally ebbed away, leaving him boneless once more, he released Hawke’s hands and settled his head cozily on her chest. She instantly wrapped her arms around him and stroked his sweat-dampened skin, and he smiled lazily against her chest.

She chuckled softly and stroked his hair. “Someone’s happy.”

He hummed in agreement. “Someone certainly is.”

“I’m talking about the turnip,” Hawke said. “It’s being nicely squished between mum and dad.”

Fenris sat up in alarm. “Am I – kaffas, I’m crushing the baby? I can move–”

She burst out laughing and pulled him back down. “I’m teasing, I’m teasing! You’re fine. We’ll happily be crushed by you. It’ll make for an excellent story: ‘Former Inquisitor’s wife and turnip child smushed in post-coital cuddle–’”

Fenris rolled over so she was on top of him, then pinched her waist until she squealed with laughter. “You are an idiot,” he said affectionately.

She grinned and smoothed her hands over his collarbones. “Only for you, Fenris,” she giggled. “Only for you.” She shuffled lower on his body and tucked her head under his chin.

He smirked and closed his eyes. As was always the case, he knew that this peace wouldn’t last; Solas was a far greater threat than Corypheus had ever been, and now that the Inquisition was disbanded, they no longer had access to a network of contacts that spanned the entire south of Thedas.

Not openly, at least, he thought. The Inquisition might be officially disbanded and its members might disperse, but its people had a new goal now. Leliana would spearhead the efforts against Solas with Josephine’s assistance, and Dorian would search quietly for support in Tevinter with Maevaris by his side. Bull’s Ben-Hassrath background would be a boon for collecting further information, and Varric had no small number of spies and underground contacts of his own. Cole would return to the Fade, and Fenris could only hope compassion would do the same good in the Fade as it had done on this side of the Veil. Sera and the Red Jennies would always be there to fight against those who would punch down, and when the day finally came that they would need a sword on their side, Rainier, Cullen, and Cassandra would be there.

This idyllic feeling of peace wouldn’t last. But for the first time in years, Fenris felt at peace. He was no longer the Inquisitor, and Hawke was no longer the Champion. They were going to find a house on the beach in Rivain, and they were going to have a child. They would work against the Dread Wolf in a quiet and careful way, and they would write a book about everything they knew so that they could share the power of that knowledge too.

But in the meantime, they would live in peace. For the first time since he and Hawke had known each other, they would have the quiet and peaceful life they had always wanted.

For the first time in years, Fenris felt truly free.

#fenris #fenris fic #fenris smut #fenhawke #Lovers in a Dangerous Time #fenris/hawke #fenris x hawke #fenris/femhawke #fenris x femhawke #fenris/f!hawke #fenris x f!hawke #fenrynne #pikapeppa writes #trespasser dlc

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aliceslantern · 5 years ago

Text

Heartlines, a Kingdom Hearts fanfic, chapter 8

Twelve years ago, Xemnas betrayed the royal court of Radiant Garden to his father, Xehanort. Prince Ienzo flees to another city and begins university in the aftermath, hoping the anonymity will protect him from eager eyes with ill intent. The darkness spilling across the country, as well as an individual from his past, cut short Ienzo's new beginning and bring new conflicts to light. Strained between the desires of his magic and his heart, Ienzo's choice will change him forever.

Modern Fantasy AU, Soulmates, Zemyx. Updates Fridays until it's done.

Chapter summary: Ienzo reveals what he's learned to Demyx, who begins to remember. They decide whether or not to act on the bond.

Read it on FF.net/on AO3

---

They walked back mostly in silence. By the time they finally got back, it was very late and Ienzo was exhausted, his feet hurting awfully. The light in the window of the townhouse was on. Ienzo took a moment to compose himself. “Are you going to come in? Visit old friends?”

Dilan chuckled. “Maybe another time.”

“So leaving me to explain this on my own, then.”

He smiled. “Oh, I know you can talk your way out of it. Until we meet again.” He disappeared almost soundlessly into the night.

He hadn’t fully opened the door before Even was on him, grasping his shoulders. “Are you alright? Are you hurt?” All the anger was gone.

“I’m fine. I’m simply--very tired.”

“Where were you? Do you have any idea how worried I was?”

“I needed some air.”

“It’s after dark--you could’ve gotten hurt, or worse--”

“I was fine.” He started towards the stairs. “Even, I can… defend myself.”

“At the cost of setting a beacon for all Xehanort’s many eager ears.”

This felt like a conversation he’d had many times. “We can argue about this in the morning. I need rest.”

He sighed. “Very well.” Even shut the light.

Ienzo took a warm shower. Once he was in bed, despite his exhaustion, he struggled to sleep.

Meet the resistance. Be the face of it.

To do something. At last.

What about Demyx? They were… quite literally… soulmates. Ienzo felt that rush of heat in his magic again, but it wasn’t lust. At least, not entirely. Had Ansem truly not known about this? Even seemed to think so, Dilan didn’t. Who was right?

Ienzo wished he could ask him. If Ansem had known… why had he made this decision? He, who openly encouraged Ienzo’s willfulness?

(Or was that encouragement all an act?)

He began to understand what Demyx had meant when he said he wasn’t sure if anyone in his life actually cared for him… No, Ienzo, stop being dramatic. If Even and the others didn’t care about him, they could’ve abandoned him, or worse, long ago. They did care--even if their care was smothering, misguided--

He took a deep breath, and then another, and another. No use getting worked up.

He wished Demyx were here with him.

Ienzo sat through class in a haze the next day. He had Demyx’s pendant, as well as the other, in his pocket (he refused to think of it as his , but yet also could not bring himself to put it back in its little silver box). He’d only managed to sleep for a few hours, too wound up to do anything other than fret and toss and turn. His calves were aching from the long walk both ways. Had he always been this physically weak? Maybe that should change, especially if he were considering meeting this aqueous resistance. There was a gym on campus, free to use with his tuition. Might be worth scouting out.

He again had the class Demyx TA’d for. He couldn’t help the small smile seeing him, and found it returned. But then, with a flash--he was going to have to tell Demyx what he’d learned. A wave of anxiety made him physically dizzy, and his magic threatened to wake up. He held it at bay and tried to focus on the lecture, about the neoclassical movement. Instead he found himself scribbling in the margins of his notebook.

This was all so bizarre.

He barely knew Demyx, yet here their lives were intertwined. Perhaps the rushes of feeling he was having were predetermined. He tried to hold onto that rage of having this choice taken from him, yet, it was so soothing . So almost instinctive. He hadn’t even known he was gay prior to this, had perhaps thought he was nothing . Was he even meant to be with anyone else? Perhaps this was what was called "demisexuality", something he'd read about aqueously when he'd researched gender all those years ago--

This romanticism was somewhat pathetic.

Demyx immediately joined him after the class was over. “Hey,” he said. “How are you doing?”

“I am… tired,” he said. “And yourself?”

“I’ve been thinking a lot about… stuff,” he said evasively.

“Do you have a few moments?”

A small smile. “For you? Any time.”

And he knew that the simplicity of this phrase should not have made him melt --gods, Ienzo hated this. “Is there somewhere private on campus we can talk?”

Demyx pursed his lips. “Sure. Come on.” He led him to the older section of campus. Despite the dreariness of a sky threatening rain, the light still seemed rosy, warm. This time, when Demyx slid his hand into Ienzo’s, Ienzo didn’t pull away. He liked the way the calluses fit against his own soft skin.

They approached one of the ivy-covered structures. Its face had a sandstone arch, and old glass doors. Ienzo saw closed doors leaving to what was presumably an auditorium. Demyx took him to the left. “Music and music ed have most of our classes here,” he said. “It’s kind of… old, I know.”

As they passed classrooms, Ienzo saw what Demyx meant; the whole building had that slightly sweet smell of old wood. The empty classrooms had blackboards instead of the smartboards Ienzo had seen elsewhere, and the desks were mismatched. Some doors were propped open with doorstops where their hydraulics had failed. A few wooden upright pianos were scratched, their finish faded.

“It’s funny,” Demyx continued. “The concert and recital series bring in a ton of money for campus, and they can’t even bother to remodel the place.”

“Where does it go, then?”

“Did you see that fancy new engineering building?” He sighed. “Listen. Science? Is great. But people aren’t going to listen to science on their commute and they’re not going to see it when they turn on their TV. Science won’t help you through the bad times.”

Ienzo bit his lip; it had been Ansem who steered them culturally towards the sciences. “It’s a shame,” he said instead.

Demyx took him up one more flight. He took a keycard out of his wallet and tapped it on a closed door. “Et voila,” he said lamely. “One of the only real perks of being a TA.”

It was a small, square room, with black soundproofing foam mounted on the walls. There was an electric keyboard, a few black metal music stands, and a chair or two. “A practice suite?”

He nodded. “We’re supposed to do lab hours, but… honestly a lot of us just use them to hang out. Or… other stuff.” He winced. “Not that this is why we’re here.” He pulled two chairs over from the wall. “So… what did you want to talk about?”

Ienzo took a deep breath. He reached into his pocket and pulled out Demyx’s pendant. “I wanted to give this back to you,” he said softly. “Moreover…” He took out the second. Unceremoniously, he fitted the two together.

Demyx’s expression had gone blank, his eyes wide.

“We’re not just pairbonded,” Ienzo began. “We’re soulbound. My… guardian told me about it. Apparently… your people offered you to me… as protection, and in a wayward attempt at peace. That all of you might help pacify the unrest in Radiant Garden, and stave off revolution during a period of reform.”

Demyx’s hand snapped to his mouth.

“And allegedly, this was done because of the ways our souls resonated with one another. So this half… is mine.” He offered it back to him, but Demyx didn’t take it. “I know this is a lot to take in--believe me, I didn’t react half as well.”

His hand shot from his mouth to his temple, and he let out a pained gasp.

“Demyx?”

“I--I, um…” He squeezed his eyes shut. “I think I… remember--”

“Remember what?”

“God, it fucking--” He rocked back and forth slightly. “Oh…”

“Are you alright?”

When Demyx finally opened his eyes, they were wet. “Got it,” he said simply. “I was… picked.” He said it with the air of something new and yet known. “My parents… my mom was really sick, and… they would be provided for if… I went with them.”

“With who?”

“The… choosers, the chief of our… colony.” There was something distant and horrified in his eyes. “I was… sold? So my mom could get medicine?”

“They were pairbonded,” Ienzo murmured. “Easier to lose you than her… I’m so sorry.”

“And then, I…” He stood up suddenly, and went over to the window. “They took me, said I had somewhere important to be, and then I saw you.”

“That was when you saved my life,” Ienzo said.

“Yes, but… after that…” He tapped his forehead. “They… cut off my form, and they were going to… send me to you, I think, more directly, but…” He leaned heavily against the sill. “All of sudden the colony was being sieged, and everything was being…” A moan. “I just ended up on the beach… and I forgot.”

“And then someone found you.”

“And adopted me. And I lived normally, and Riku and I looked into it when he started getting magic, and then… is now.” He turned to face Ienzo, tears running freely down his face.

“I’m so sorry,” Ienzo said. “I’m so--” It didn’t feel awkward or uncalled for to go over and draw Demyx into his arms, to comfort him as he cried and stroke his hair. Like they’d done it dozens of times before. Ienzo had never been able to make a choice before, and yet still his existence was hurting people.

After a while, Demyx calmed down. He wiped at his eyes. “This is all so weird. Why did they do this to us, Ienzo?”

“I don’t know,” he said honestly. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault. You didn’t ask for any of this. You were just a kid.”

“So were you.” He took a deep breath and realized he, too, was upset. “All along our choices have been taken away from us, and now--” He swallowed the lump in his throat. “There has to be something that can be done. There has to--” In it, a certainty.

He was going to go to the resistance.

“Demyx?” he asked softly. “I think I know a way to stop all this. To give people choices back. Will you help me?”

He bit his lip. Then, “Yeah. I will.”

Ienzo leaned forward and kissed him. Too quickly it became hotter, more intense; Demyx still tasted like salt, his skin damp. Ienzo drew his hands up through his hair. Demyx’s hands trembled where they rested on his back. He ran his tongue along Demyx’s lips and felt them part.

He hated how natural this felt, how good, his magic waking up, his nerves all too raw. If he’d had a choice, would he have chosen Demyx?

Almost at this thought, the other man pulled away. “Do you want to…” He began. “Do you want to go back to my place?”

Ienzo felt the blood rush to his face. “Yes.”

Demyx picked up his pendant from its place on the chair and slid it back on. Ienzo couldn’t help but stare at the other. “You don’t have to,” he said.

Ienzo nodded, and put it back into his pocket.

They walked off campus together in a sort of silence. Anticipation had his heart racing. He had no idea what he was about to do, if anything, but this resolve made him eager to explore. They were going to get through this together . Demyx’s hands, when he undid the lock, were still shaking. “Um, it’s through here,” he said. “My room. I mean.” The color in his face warmed his tan skin. They took off their shoes at the door.

Ienzo followed him in a haze. The room was relatively small; it barely fit the double bed, the desk and dresser, and a bookshelf full of CDs and records. Ienzo wasn’t sure why he was surprised it was clean; in fact, he could smell fresh laundry and floor cleaner. Blinds made the light even rosier. He noticed, out of the corner of his eye, an instrument--he guessed it was Demyx’s sitar. It was clearly very old, and well loved; the varnish worn off in places, though it had a place of honor by the window on its own stand.

“Oh yeah… there she is,” he said softly. He sat on the bed.

“Perhaps you’ll play for me sometime,” Ienzo said. He turned back to him. It took a moment of culling his nerve before he was able to sit down next to him.

Demyx touched his cheek. “So,” he said in a low voice. “Look… if you ever feel uncomfortable with anything, at any time, just tell me.”

He nodded. It was hard to breathe, and he was sweating under his cardigan.

Demyx leaned in to kiss him, gently, softly. Ienzo kissed back a little more deeply, reaching over to feel at his back, finding his suspicions were right; Demyx was wiry under that loose shirt.

He pulled away and kissed at Ienzo’s jaw, his throat, so slowly , the feel of it making him gasp for air. He could hear Demyx breathing quickly, unevenly, his hand sliding up under Ienzo’s thigh, bringing with it a rush of goosebumps, the magic quivering around him in little waves. He let himself be eased back onto the bed, which smelled so like Demyx. Suddenly Ienzo was feeling at his arms, his sides, his chest. His hands were so much more sensitive now.

He should fight this. Wait, as they’d said. But would it really be so awful to see this through if it were unbreakable anyway?

For a moment they broke apart. Demyx brushed away Ienzo’s bangs. “That eye’s blind,” he said, as explanation. “Too much… magic use, at one point in my life.”

“Oh.” He traced his finger along Ienzo’s lip, making him shudder, and kissed his eyelid. “Would it be okay if I--” He reached for the hem of his own shirt.

Ienzo’s heart just beat all the harder. “Yes.” Even in this dim lighting, he found himself caught staring at him, his lean toned body. Ienzo longed to taste that skin, so he did, pressing his lips Demyx’s shoulder, his collarbone. He breathed that salt, that sweetness. Demyx pressed him down against the bed a little more, close enough that their bodies were touching, that he was certain he could feel Demyx’s dick. It was rubbing up against him, not quite between his legs, making his clit throb. Ienzo pushed up, wanting to feel more of it. Demyx slid an arm under him to help.

He hadn’t ever quite felt like this before. It was a feeling that was somehow so new and so old at the same time, familiar yet not. They drank each other in with a sort of urgency. Demyx’s hand slid up under Ienzo’s shirt. “Can I--take this--”

“Yes.” Ienzo struggled out of the sweater; the cooler air of the room was welcome. For a moment Demyx just looked at him. Then, he traced one trembling hand along Ienzo’s side, running it along his flat chest. Ienzo gasped a little.

Demyx leaned down and kissed his nipple, teasing it gently, and Ienzo nearly swore out loud. He’d never wanted so hard, not even as a hormonally confused teenager. “Is that good?”

He could only nod. Demyx kept at it, moving all along his skin before so tentatively sliding one hand up along his inner thigh between his legs. Ienzo thought he might faint.

“You’re alright?” Demyx asked.

“Yes.” All he could manage; not exactly eloquent.

Demyx touched him slowly, and having it muffled through the clothing was almost more than Ienzo could take. He had to either stop this now, or let it run its course; he was on the verge of falling apart completely. At least this was a choice he could make.

Ienzo pulled his hands away from Demyx’s hair and reached for the button of his jeans, startling him. “I don’t think I can… do the whole thing,” he said thickly. “But perhaps we can--”

“Right. Yeah. Sure.” He laughed a little and helped Ienzo out of his own pants. “Little too hot under the collar?”

“I feel I may combust.”

Demyx pressed a kiss against his cheek, his jaw, his throat. “Maybe I can do something about that.”

“Alright.”

“Alright?”

Despite being in this heightened state, it still took a moment or so of finding the nerve before Ienzo was able to touch Demyx too, wondering along the shape of his dick. Demyx gasped. The skin was feverish even through the fabric of his boxers.

“Fuck,” he spat. “Ienzo, I--” His hips strained a little. “Could I--touch--”

“Just do it already.”

Another small laugh; Ienzo did too, despite himself. How strange, to be so comfortable with a near-stranger, to open this part of himself to him. Demyx kissed him on the lips, teasing him once or twice more before finally sliding his hand down Ienzo’s waistband. Ienzo couldn’t quite breathe. The moment was so surreal as to be vaguely nostalgic, like it had been done before, the magic making every nerve feel almost twice as much. This is what you wanted, he thought towards it. Well, here.

Demyx felt at him for a moment before he found the clit, almost making Ienzo moan out loud. “God, you’re wet.”

Ienzo just grabbed him and kissed him. Demyx began to stroke him in earnest, a steady, smooth motion, which did not provide relief so much as turn him on more. “I feel so much,” he muttered, without meaning to.

“Me too.”

He couldn’t quite reciprocate as much as he might have liked, only able to fumble at him a few times. Even his most intense personal sessions could not compare. Ienzo was acutely aware that it was the soulbinding making him experience this so strongly.

“Relax,” Demyx whispered.

He tried to listen. He was shaking. Demyx moved his hand a little faster; Ienzo could already feel the tightening beginning in his stomach, his thighs. He resisted it. He felt both out of his body yet so in it, in awe of the soft sounds they were both making, the way it tasted to kiss him. He pressed harder against Demyx’s hand. The subtle scratch of the calluses along the too-sensitive part of him became all he could focus on.

This really is happening, he thought dazedly.

“Does this feel good?” Demyx asked him, his voice somewhat distant.

“Don’t stop.” So he was capable of speech.

Lips against his throat. He could hear his own breath, heightened and strange. He felt Demyx tease the actual opening, and after a moment, slip a finger up into him, causing him to spasm. “Does that--hurt?” Demyx asked. “I--”

“No. It doesn’t--” He bucked his hips against it, and feeling the push and pull, Demyx still working his clit with his thumb. “Oh…” Not so much a moan as a sort of realization.

Even after so much buildup, it came as a shock to him, little waves breaking over him. Ienzo wasn’t able to do anything but let it happen, a warm release in his magic making the world fuzzy. Demyx pressed a kiss against his forehead. “Did you just--”

“...Maybe a little.” He swallowed, feeling tears in his eyes, of all the things. The sensation of warmth hadn’t faded, and again all his senses felt raw, as though anything insignificant had peeled away.

“I thought I felt it.” He squirmed a little. The color on his face had reached his collarbones.

“Lay down,” Ienzo said.

“You don’t… I mean, it was your first time ever , so--” It seemed difficult for him to speak.

“I want to.”

Demyx complied. Ienzo eased off his underwear and took his dick into his hand. Demyx moaned. “Just kind of--here.” He adjusted Ienzo’s hand.

A sort of embarrassment almost broke the pleasure he was feeling. How often had he fantasized about having one of these himself, only to not know how to properly deal with it? But after a moment or so, Demyx was making these small beautiful noises, his eyes shut tight. Ienzo tried to kiss him too, to find the spots that excited him. Doing this flooded the magic with another sort of pleasure. Demyx clutched the sheet with one hand. He felt Demyx’s cock tense a little, and he moaned, and Ienzo felt the sticky heat of it against his palm. A heartbeat after this, he thought he felt Demyx’s energy brush against his, that same moment of release.

Oh.

For a moment they both struggled to catch their breath. Ienzo knew without being told that his hair was again glowing; he could feel it on his scalp. “Are you alright?” Demyx asked him. Then, “here.” He handed him a tissue to wipe off his hand.

“I’m… fine.” Demyx threw it out for him. “I feel like we’ve… done this before.”

“Me too.” He settled more naturally against the sheets and drew Ienzo against him.

“You’ve had sex with other people. Does it feel like that?”

He laughed. “No. Not even close.”

Ienzo did not know the feeling washing over him. He rested his head against Demyx’s chest. The other man began to play with his hair.

“Does this happen every time you come?”

“I don’t think so. I’ve never particularly noticed. I think this was… special.” His lip curled.

Another laugh. He took one of Ienzo’s hands into his. For a few minutes they just enjoyed each other; it took Ienzo too long to realize that what he felt was safety . He did not have to worry, right now, about consciously reining the magic that always threatened to explode from him. Demyx took care of all that. “You know…” He began. “This… soulbond stuff. Do you think you and me would have picked each other otherwise?”

“I… am not entirely sure,” Ienzo said. “But… if any of what they’ve told me is true, then… we were chosen because our souls resonated , not because we’re two powerful people. That means on some level… we must be intrinsically compatible. Better to think that… than the alternative.”

“I still don’t really know you,” Demyx murmured. “...And so much for waiting.”

“Quite. Well.” He took a deep breath. “We’ve got time… relatively speaking.”

“And I should actually buy you dinner.”

Ienzo chuckled a little. “That would be quite nice.”

#heartlines #ienzo #demyx #zemyx #au #soulmate au #ienzo is trans

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