#my brain said time to suddenly understand how to color and shade things

[xoxo-sarah]

Pretty In Pink

Part two to Brother's Best Friend. Read that first to better understand.

↝a/n: happy new year! This fic is slightly based on a suggestion by @canmargesimpson thank you, hon. I hope you enjoy. 🩶

↝pairing: Robin Buckleyx Harrington!reader

↝warning:not proofread, angst, commitment issues, Robin not knowing how to handle her feelings, jealousy, cursing, girly-girl reader(?), Harrington! Reader,

|| Disclaimer: I do not own Robin Buckley, or any character from Stranger Things. I only own "y/n" and any characters I create with my own brain. ||

↝⎙ 1.1.24

Header credits go to @saradika 🩶

You were so gorgeous. So irritatingly gorgeous. Every color looked good on you. Every perfect hair style made Robin want to mess it up while kissing you so hard. Ever lipgloss shade was sure to be wore off by the time Robin got done with you. Was there anything that you didn't look good in?

Not that Robin was sure of. No, the only thing she was sure of was that pink was your color. You had many shirts and skirts in different shades of pink. Accessories ranging from hot pink or soft misty rose. If you were to ask Robin which was her favorite, she would, without a doubt, say the soft pink was your color. It complemented your skin, especially when you had been tanning out by the pool. Like now.

You wore said soft pink in the form of a bikini. It left little to Robin's imagination. Mentally, she was thanking you.

Your soft, tan skin was all that was in her mind. The water droplets that fell down your body when you moved in the pool was playing on loop in her head. She had never been so jealous of water before.

"I just don't know what to do." Steve kept yapping. Not that Robin was paying him any mind. Her eyes had been watching you under her sunglasses. You felt her eyes on you. Maybe that's why you were doing subtle things that would drive her crazy. Like push your arms together while leaning against the side of the pool, or push your soaking wet hair away from your face. You always wore that stupid smirk on your face. God, you were so pretty. "Robin, are you even listening?"

"Hm?" She hummed, unknowingly looking back at where he sat in the lawn chair beside her. The summer weather had Steve and you competing to get the better tan. Robin knew you won, no matter how much Steve would walk around outside without a shirt. It was starting to irritate Robin. "What?"

"I don't know why I'm even trying anymore. Nance was the one- ya know?" Oh, here we go. Robin rolled her eyes under her sunglasses. She adored him, she really did. But if she had to listen to Steve blabber about the one that got away one more time, she might just have to drown him in his own pool.

"Maybe it's time to move on." Her voice was barely above a whisper.

Steve scoffed, "right, like you? How's Vickie?"

Your head shot over, your bikini top strap popping against your skin as you tried to fix it.

Since the night where you two had kissed, it was a mutual agreement that went unsaid. You two would kiss behind closed doors when given the chance, flirt with your eyes, call in the middle of the night occasionally when Steve was asleep. There weren't any labels ever mentioned. You two were just... In the moment. That said, Vickie became a sore subject after a while. Steve had found it weird that Robin suddenly stopped talking about the red-headed girl. However, he didn't let Robin lack of interest in her now mess up his agonizingly teasing.

"I wouldn't know, Steve."

"Right."

Not muttering another word, he laid back in the chair, closing his eyes.

The sound of water splashing had Robin's head turning back towards you, her body relaxing as she watched you get out of the pool. Your scowling expression didn't go good with the rest of you at the moment. As soon as you caught her eyes, you were quick to grab your towel and dart into the house, not caring about the water.

Robin was quick to go in after you, after she heard the first snore exit Steve's lips.

"Vickie, huh?"

Robin sighed, knowing where this was going. "Y/n-"

"I know what you're going to say- exactly the same as every other time." This time it was your turn to sigh. You genuinely sounded exhausted. "But I don't understand why you keep letting him tease you about her." You pouted. Your lips were so pink, so kissable..

Robin walked closer to where you stood against the counter, towel wrapped loosely around your frame. "It's the only thing he knows how to do."

Your pout deepened. "I'm serious. We can make him stop, you know. We could just tell him."

"No." She was quick to step back.

"why are you so scared to tell him? It's Steve."

Before Robin could reply, Steve slid the glass door open, looking for you two.

You all went your separate ways after that. Sure, you and Robin had had the same conversation plenty of times, but it felt different.

And it proved to be so.

Robin hadn't answered your calls, hadn't came over- making Steve meet up with her to hang out.

You were beginning to grow frustrated as it went on for weeks.

"David Bowie played a goblin king for crying out lou-" You weren't supposed to be home, atleast not this early. Steve's expression said the same when you walked in the front door. Robin, who he has been arguing with, went stiff from beside him. She looked so pretty in her Blue button up shirt that was tucked into lighter washed shorts. Blue was her color, navy or sky blue, didn't matter. What didn't sit right with you was the person sitting on the other side of her. Vickie smiled politely at you, waving. Steve cut your staring off, popping the tab off of his can drink in boredom, the smaller piece falling into the empty can, ringing through your empty head. "Thought you were out for the day?"

"Was. Got tired." You were blunt, going straight for your room after.

Before you closed your door you heard Steve try to lighten the mood from your sour attitude. "She's been in a funk lately, I don't know."

Robin watched you walk away. She couldn't help where her eyes traveled. you were wearing pink. It was slightly darker than your swimsuit, but looked just as good on you nonetheless. She was quick to excuse herself to the bathroom, making her way to your room.

She welcomed herself in your room after she got a hum in response to a quiet knock on your bedroom door. Her step into your room was quick, making sure Steve and Vickie were still content with the movie on the tv. She turned, watching you watch her. You were still looking at her, frustrated at her. She's seen you when you hated her. This was different. It almost hurt her that she hurt you.

You broke the silence, sitting on the side of your bed. A pile of laundry was sat beside you- the same pretty pale pink bikini was sat on top, making Robin's breath hitch. "I pour my heart out to you and you ignore me for weeks? You get with her."

No amount of practicing this conversation with "you" in her mirror had her ready for how your voice showed how betrayed you felt.

It wasn't fair, what Robin was doing. She knew that. It was all just so complicated. Steve was her best friend. She couldn't hurt him like that. It's all complicated.

"I know. I'm sorry." She moved to stand infront of you when you looked away.

"You brought her here." Your tears fell down your soft, pinkened cheeks.

"I know." She couldn't help her words repeating. She sunk down to her knees in front of your, taking your hand that tried to wipe your face."I'm sorry."

"Right. That's why you're in my house with her. Cause you're so sorry."

"That's not- she's not here with me. We ran into her and Steve invited her over for a movie. He's still on his kick, trying to embarrass me. You know how he is."

Robin's eyes begged you to believe her. What were you supposed to do when she looked up at you like that?

"Why have you been ignoring me?" What was she supposed to do when you looked down at her like that? She had to tell you what was eating her up, knowing you didn't understand why it was such a big deal to her.

"It's just all a lot." After she paused, you nodded. Moving over, you patted the bed for her to join you, giving her your full undivided attention. "Steve is my best friend. I don't want what we have to effect my friendship with him, you know? I don't want him to brought into our relationship when we have an argument or if we break up. I don't want you or him to be in an awkward situation at any time." A sigh fell from her lips as she looked at you, scared of how you'll react to her opening up.

"So, Steve's the problem?" You joked.

She put on a sad smile, "Pretty much."

"Robin," you hand found hers, your thumb rubbing over her skin in smoothing circles. "I like you- as I've showed in this bed. I'm willing to deal with Steve and all that if the time comes. I want you."

Her eyes had a sad twinkle in them. " I just need time."

-

Shortly after Robin came down from your room, Steve was leaving to take her and Vickie to their homes. The ride was quiet- well almost. Robin stared out of the window, Steve tried starting conversation, Vickie sat in the back, being the only one conversating with the driver. Robin didn't pay either of them any mind. Her mind was on you. How understanding you were.

It was after Steve dropped Vickie off that he started conversation with Robin, not getting silence for an answer. "Vickie, huh?"

"I'm over Vickie. Like really, really over her. Not that there's something wrong with her- there's just someone else. Or there was, I guess. I don't really know anymore."

" Wow." Steve sighed, tapping the steering wheel. "I'm surprised you didn't break and tell me about you and y/n. You surprise me more and more everyday."

Robin froze, too scared to do anything.

"You knew?" She wanted to yell. But her voice came out as a whisper. Steve just looked at her, shrugging his shoulders.

"Uh, yeah. You two aren't the best at keeping a secret. I felt like I was interrupting something every time you were in the room together."

Before Robin could stop herself, she was hitting his shoulders with all the frustration in her body. Punch after punch right to his right shoulder, same spot and everything. It was sure to be sore tomorrow.

-

Robin practically ran through the door, mindlessly making her way around the furniture.

Her eyes caught your pink nightgown, that she had made fun of you for- saying it was a granny thing to wear- as if she didn't find it adorable on you. You went further into the kitchen before she could fully make it into the kitchen. You back was turned to her, oblivious to her presence.

"I don't need time."

At lightning speed, you spun around, confused on why you heard anyone but Steve's voice in the house. You clutched at your chest for a split second before she had her lips on yours.

"Gross." Steve made his way to his room, a small smile making it's way onto his face when you couldn't see him anymore.

Pulling back, you didn't know what to say.

Robin didn't want you to say anything about what has happened, not in the minute or two, not the week she ignored you, nothing. She changed the subject, playing with your hair, looking into your eyes the same way she did when you first told her how you felt. "I really like this color on you."

"I know."

•2021-2024 by xoxo-sarah on Tumblr•

•My work is not to be translated, copied, modified, and/or reposted on any other site without my permission. [I don't give permission!]

#robin buckley #robin buckley fanfic #robin buckley fluff #robin buckley x reader #robin buckley angst #robin buckley x fem!reader #stranger things x reader #stranger things fanfic #stranger things imagine #robin buckley x harrington!reader #robin buckley x you #robin buckley x female reader #robin buckley x y/n #stranger things fluff #stranger things angst #📼 #xoxo-sarah 🩷

[beomglocks]

better ; c.yj

summary : you deserve better

pairing : ex-boyfriend/mafia leader!yeonjun x reader

warnings & other : angst, mention of trauma, stalking and kidnapping, yeonjun breaks into your house, refer to picture for visual, i saw this edit on ig and now my mind has fuel, listen to better by WOOGIE.

w/c : ???

---

the sunlight peeks through your shades and onto your face, causing you to stir in your sleep. you squeeze your eyes tightly shut hoping your brain can trick itself into sleeping for just a couple more hours longer.

it works for a couple of seconds. closing your eyes tight may have tricked your brain into thinking it was still dark enough to indulge in more sleep.

you sigh peacefully, hoping to get back to your previous dream but you're cut off by the sound of a door being slammed shut.

you open your eyes but remain in bed. it had to be around 7am at least which means no one should be in your house. well, no one should be in your house period. if it was a robber, they sure do work early.

you get out of bed, not caring about your lack of proper clothes because if you were gonna die, what's the point? you take careful steps toward your kitchen to make sure you don't alert whoever may be in there.

the sound of things being moved around and frustrated groans grows louder the closer you get to the room. you grab your nearby safety bat from a corner in your hallway and bring it above your head to swing.

when you come into the line of sight of the intruder in your house you halt yourself from swinging and bring the bat down to your side, the person not realizing yet that you're there.

anger bubbles inside of you at the sight of the sleeve of tattoos and dark head of hair that you recognize all too well.

"what the fuck are you doing in my house yeonjun?"

the boy in question seemingly pays no mind to your question and simply continues rummaging through your fridge and cupboards. "where the hell do you keep your peanut butter?"

you cross your arms at him. "i asked you a question."

"so did i," he retorts. you roll your eyes at him. "you're in my house ass hole, in case you forgot."

he subtly rolls his eyes away from your line of sight and stands up from the fridge. now that he's seen you, his eyes linger on your body for longer than you're ok with. he leans back on your counter with a smile, a visible change in his demeanor, "good morning."

"answer my question," you frown. he sighs, "we got busted and i needed a place to crash."

"yeonjun!" you exasperate. "what? i slept on the couch out of respect for you," he raises his eyebrow, taking a bite out of his slice of dry bread.

"what the fuck do you want me to do, thank you? i told you not to involve me in your mafia gang whatever shit anymore and you go and do this," you gesture to the mess on your countertop.

"yeonjun you're the only other person here! what's with all this shit on my table?!" he continues eating nonchalantly as you scold him and try to clean up as best as you can.

"can you calm down," he sighs. he takes another bite of bread before placing the plate on top of a random box of pizza. "no one saw me come here, you'll be fine."

you continue cleaning, without saying a word to him. you feel like if you open your mouth you'll explode. you clench your teeth as you watch him look through your fridge again out of the corner of your eye.

it's been months since you last saw him and this is the first thing he does. from the counter, you have a pretty good view of his back as he looks through the fridge.

even though you hate him, your mind wanders back in time when that same back would be littered with your marks and scratches. the neck tattoo that would be colored with hickeys he would proudly wear is now bare and untouched.

your eyes go up to his head which thankfully is still turned away from you. the pink mullet he used to rock is now a dark undercut with hints of red. it looks good on him, you have to admit. his ears have more piercings than you remember and you hold back a smile thinking about the time when you would play with his ears and he would tell you to stop.

"you're awfully quiet, what're you thinking about?" he asks, still facing the fridge. you have to remember your relationship with the mafia leader ended months ago, whatever feelings that were present right now were most likely your heart missing human interaction.

"thinking about how i want you out of my house," you mumble, picking up a half empty cup of ramen. he sighs, standing up and fixing his messy hair.

"i said i was sorry," he leans back on the fridge, watching you clean. you bite your tongue, picking up the empty pizza box and tossing it in the trash. "sorry doesn't make up for trauma yeonjun, that's what you don't understand," you say quietly.

"if i knew that would happen to you i wouldn't have left you alone, you know i would've had soobin or taehyun be around you 24/7!" he reasons.

"well you didn't," you breathe out. you give him a tight lipped smile and for the first time in months he's reminded of the pain he saw in you eyes when they brought you back.

"you decided drugs and money were more important than your fucking girlfriend that you love "oh-so-much" getting stalked and kidnapped."

“that’s not tr-“ “that’s what it felt like!” you place an empty soda bottle on the table. he blinks at your outburst. in all the time you’ve spent together, you were never one to lash out even when he annoyed you to no end.

he stares at you for a moment before closing his eyes and biting the inside of his cheek in frustration. "y/n," he sighs angrily.

"even after i killed them all? it wasn't enough for you! you still left me," he steps closer to you and you unconsciously step back. you recognized this tone on yeonjun but he never used it on you. it's gravely and deep and on the rare occasion that you did hear it, the outcome was never good.

"yeonjun..."

"no, look- i know what happened to you was fucked up but i tried my best! it still wasn't enough- you still left and didn't even tell me.." he chuckles at this. "do you know how long it took to find this fucking place?"

you look down, suddenly feeling small. any bravery you had has now dissipated. it's like your mind and body were so used to yeonjun that you just knew when to submit.

"you were my only sense of normalcy in that place," he mumbles. "sure i've got the boys but they're not you.."

his head is hung low, making his hair cover his eyes. your first instinct would've been to run into his arms and pepper him in kisses. endless strings of 'i love you' to reassure both of you that what happened wasn't either of your faults.

you bite your lip, "is that why all this food is like this..."

he doesn't move from his spot. "im sorry, i miss you." you almost feel your heart break. you hate seeing yeonjun so messed up about something that he just eats to forget because it's his only other form of happiness, well apart from you.

you walk up to him, bringing your arms around his slim frame. at first, he doesn't hug you back since he wasn't expecting that but soon enough he engulfs you as if he's been touch starved for ages.

"im sorry, please come back to me? i'll do better, i promise you won't get hurt anymore hm?" he sounds hopeful and it makes you close your eyes.

"you need to leave," you say quietly. you feel him hug you tighter as he places his chin on your head. "please let me stay with you," he pleads.

you force yourself to step away from him which takes a lot more effort than you thought. you look up at his face and he looks so broken. it’s rare to see a mafia leader look this vulnerable but yeonjun opens himself up to you like this at times and you feel lucky, in a weird way.

he watches you expectantly, waiting for your answer. “yeonjun i just- i don’t feel safe around you anymore.”

you swear you see his heart shatter right in front of your face.

you want to hit yourself but it’s true. where you once felt peace you only feel fear. maybe once upon a time yeonjun was like your savior but now he brings pain, especially with the type of work he does.

he looks down, biting his lip. you can tell he's trying to act like what you said didn't just tear a hole straight through his heart. "you know i'll still watch over you and keep you safe," he promises.

you smile lightly at him, glad that he hasn't completely given up. "i know." he wastes no time stealing a kiss on your forehead, quickly moving away before you can complain or push him away.

"you still fucked up my kitchen though," you say when he starts walking away to your door. he only shrugs as you watch him walk out your door and out onto the streets.

you can only sigh, hoping he'll be safe until he can get his base back.

#yeonjun imagines #yeonjun reactions #yeonjun drabbles #yeonjun angst #yeonjun drabble #txt imagines #drabble #tomorrow x together imagines #txt headcannons #yeonjun headcannons #txt reactions #txt scenarios #yeonjun timestamps #yeonjun fic #yeonjun x reader #angst

[triptuckers]

Sunshine - Nikolai Lantsov

Request: yea! “Can you make a Nikolai Lantsov x Reader where the reader has been with the Crows for a year, so when she sees him again, he recognizes her immediately and vice versa.” Pairing:  Nikolai Lantsov x reader Summary:  Someone looks very familiar, and you can’t wrap your head around it Warnings: crooked kingdom spoilers!! Word count:  1.6K A/N: hi! there’s (slight) crooked kingdom spoilers in this one, so don’t read it if you don’t want any spoilers for the book! thanks for requesting this, enjoy reading!

‘The Ravkan king is sending a pirate to go to the auction.’ says Kaz, making you look up in confusion as you’re walking through the halls of the fancy hotel. You are on your way to meet with the Ravkans, but you didn’t know the king would send a pirate to go to the auction. 

‘He’s sending a pirate?’ you question. ‘To represent his country?’ ‘He prefers the term ‘privateer’.’ says Kaz, slightly clenching his jaw. ‘Probably because it helps him sleep better at night.’ chuckles Jesper beside you. 

You roll your eyes, but chuckle as well. ‘Would it make you feel better if I called you a distance expert, instead of a good shot?’ you say.

‘Oh no, I’m good with flattering, you don’t have to use fancy words for that.’ says Jesper, making you laugh again. 

‘Keep it professional, you two.’ says Kaz as you’re approaching the double doors at the end of the hallway.

‘Why?’ you say. ‘You’re intimidating enough for the three of us. Jesper and I can just be your bright side, you know, bring a little sunshine.’

‘We don’t need sunshine.’ says Kaz. ‘We need to bring Van Eck and Rollins down.’

You sigh as you follow Kaz through the doors. ‘Never a bright side with you, is there?’ you say. 

Once you enter the room, you immediately look at the three people waiting for you. As you walk up to them, you take all of them in. 

On the left is a stunningly gorgeous girl. It’s hard to keep your eyes off of her. She has her arms crossed and looks very sternly at Kaz, Jesper and you as you approach them. You can tell she’d much rather be in Ravka if it was up to her. You weren’t familiar with most grisha’s, but you’re sure Nina would know her. 

On the right is a grisha you do recognise. But only because of the eye patch and scars. Genya Safin. Despite her scars, you can see her beauty. She looks a lot nicer than the other girl. 

Between them in the middle is a boy, not much older than you are, who you assume must be the pirate. Despite being flanked by two powerful Grisha, he’s the one that catches your attention. 

He doesn’t look like a pirate. At least, not like the one’s you’ve met. He’s holding his chin up high and standing up straight, not exactly like a criminal would. He smiles as you approach him and there’s something familiar about him you can’t place.

‘We’re glad you’re here.’ says Kaz, as the three of you stop in front of them.

‘We’re here on business.’ says the grisha on the left. ‘Zoya.’ says the pirate. ‘Be nice.’ But she only scoffs and rolls her eyes at him. Clearly, she didn’t want to be in a city like Ketterdam. 

‘Well, this is Zoya.’ says the pirate, motioning to the girl. ‘And this is Genya.’ he says, gesturing to the other girl. ‘And I’m Sturmhond.’ 

‘I’ve heard that name before.’ says Jesper. ‘Only the good things, I hope.’ says Sturmhond.

‘This is Jesper.’ says Kaz. ‘That’s Y/N.’ 

Jesper nods at the Ravkans, but you narrow your eyes at Sturmhond. Sturmhond looks at you, waiting for you to say something, but you merely continue to look at him, slightly narrowing your eyes.

‘Why is she looking at me like that?’ he asks. 

You don’t say anything, but notice Jesper moving closer to you.

‘Scheming face.’ he says, studying your features. ‘Her brain’s running at top speed right now. Best not to ask anything ‘til she speaks up herself.’

Kaz and Sturmhond start talking business, and you take Sturmhond in once more. There’s something so familiar about him, and you’re going through all the memories you made in Ravka, trying to determine where you could have met him before. 

Some time later, Sturmhond turns to you again.

‘I know I’m nice to look at, but you’re over selling it a bit, sunshine.’ he says.

Sunshine.

Suddenly, memories of a summer night flood back to you. It was before you came to Ketterdam, when you were in Ravka. You did all sorts of jobs, because you had certain skills not a lot of Ravkans had. On one night, you had a run in with a few soldiers. 

You thought you were done for, but they’d won an important battle that had lasted days, and weren’t in the mood for more fighting. They shared their food and kvas with you, and told you stories. You didn’t want to tell them your name, so one of the soldiers had decided to call you sunshine instead.

He had told you his name was Nikolai, and when you asked him about his family name and he said it was Lantsov, you didn’t believe him. What were the odds you ran into one of the Ravkan princes in the middle of nowhere? 

Maybe he had spoken the truth after all. 

You smile at Sturmhond and finally speak up. ‘You don’t look like a pirate.’ you say. ‘Privateer.’ he corrects you. ‘Pirate, privateer, all the same. You don’t look like one. You don’t talk like one either. Or act or stand like one.’ you say.  ‘Then what do I look like?’ he asks you. 

A smile tugs on your lips as you look at him. ‘A royal.’ you say. ‘Why would the Ravkan king send a pirate to such an important auction? If I was king, I’d want to know what was going on. I’d go myself. And have one of the best Tailors in the country help me with my disguise. Turn myself into a pirate named Sturmhond.’ 

‘That’s an interesting theory.’ he says. ‘Are you implying I’m king Nikolai? It’s a good one, but not the right one, I'm afraid.’

You nod at him but aren’t convinced. Next to you, Kaz pulls his watch out of his pocket, and tells you you need to go. The six of you walk toward the door, you and Sturmhond trailing at the end of the group. Just as you’re about to walk through the doors, he stops you and closes them, leaving the two of you alone. 

‘You’re smart.’ he says and you smile at him. ‘I never thought I’d see you again.’ ‘So I’m right?’ you say, very pleased with yourself. ‘Maybe.’ he says. ‘Maybe?’ you say, laughing softly. ‘It’s good to see you, Nikolai.’

‘It’s good to see you too.’ he says. ‘You know, when we met and you told me your family name was Lantsov, I didn’t believe you.’ you say. ‘I wouldn't have believed me either.’ he says. ‘Some soldier claiming they’re a Lantsov? I’d think it was a bad move to try and impress a pretty girl.’

‘Ah.’ you say. ‘So you think I'm pretty now?’ ‘I thought you looked absolutely gorgeous when I first met you. Even in that ridiculous coat that you wore to hide your revolvers.’ says Nikolai.

‘Why come to Ketterdam as Sturmhond?’ you ask. ‘I’ve always been Sturmhond.’ he says. ‘Everything you’ve heard about him, that’s me. I sailed the seas when my parents thought I was at a university.’

You’re silent as you look at him. Genya had done a good job tailoring him. If you hadn’t spend an entire night talking to him, you wouldn’t be able to tell it was actually the Ravkan king, and not some pirate. But you had studied his face that night, and it had been imprinted in your memory ever since.

‘What’s on your mind?’ asks Nikolai.

‘Genya did a good job.’ you say, moving closer to him and taking in the details of his face. ‘I like your own eye color and nose better though.’ you say, making him smile.

‘Do you like it here?’ he asks. ‘In Ketterdam?’ you say and he nods. ‘I do.’ you say. ‘It’s messy, and you need to have some kind of weapon on you every time you’re out on the streets, but believe it or not, it feels like home. I can be myself and use my skills without a civil war or soldiers bothering me.’

‘Don’t they have Stadwatch here?’ questions Nikolai, and you laugh. ‘They’re here, yes. But they don’t do much. All it takes is a little kruge and they look the other way. Plus, in the Barrel the gangs have territories, the Stadwatch doesn’t decide how we handle things down here.’ you say.

‘If you ever get tired of this life, Os Alta is very nice.’ he says.  ‘Is the king of Ravka asking me to come to the palace with him?’ you ask teasingly. ‘No.’ he says. ‘Nikolai is asking if you want to come to the palace with him.’

You smile at him. ‘I have to admit, it does sound nice. But I’ve found my place here with the Dregs. Kaz, Jesper, they may not look like much to you, but I trust them with my life, they’re my family.’ you say. 

Nikolai nods, taking a step back and away from you. ‘I understand.’ he says. ‘Forget I asked anything.’

‘I wasn’t finished yet.’ you say. You step closer to him and look up at him. ‘Ketterdam is now my home, but I wouldn’t say no to the occasional visit to Os Alta.’

Nikolai’s face lights up upon hearing your words and he starts grinning like an idiot. ‘I’ll make sure there’s a bottle of kvas waiting for you on your first visit. Along with a gorgeous hazel-eyed, blonde king.’ he says. 

You raise a hand and run it through his hair, which Genya had tailored to be a shade of red instead of the golden blonde you remember. ‘I prefer you as a blonde.’ you murmur softly. 

‘Next time you’ll see me, I’ll be blonde.’ he says.  ‘Next time I see you?’ you say. ‘Promise.’ says Nikolai.

A/N: If you want to request something, make sure to read my house rules Here’s the list of characters I write for. Everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. Please don’t repost my work, as I spend much time and effort on it!! Thank you for reading! Much love, Marit

#nikolai <3 <3 <3 #nikolai lantsov #shadow and bone #grishaverse #nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai lantsov x you #nikolai lantsov fanfiction #nikolai lantsov fanfic #nikolai lantsov fanfics #nikolai lantsov fic #nikolai lantsov fics #nikolai lantsov oneshot #nikolai lantsov oneshots #shadow and bone fanfiction #shadow and bone fanfic #shadow and bone fanfics #shadow and bone fic

[aestheticanimegirl15]

Meeting their future S/O

Pairing: Kirishima, Bakugo, and Amajiki + Fem!Pregnant! Reader 

Summary: These poor babies don't know what happened when you suddenly fell out of a portal into their laps. They are even more confused when they see you sporting a baby bump.

TW:None (other than some slight cussing) just some cute fluff and confused teenage boys.

Omg I never knew people would like my brain dumps so much🥺 thank you!! I really hope you like this one I saw a similar theme on another page but I can't seem to find it so I can credit them😔.Please excuse bad grammar and spelling. Hope you like it!! Stay safe and beautiful 🌸🦋✌🏻

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Kirishima 🦈

🦈 This poor baby was so confused at what had just happened. He was sitting in the common room playing on his phone while Bakugo yelled at someone/something (he had gotten used to his yelling by now and tuned him out.). 

🦈 Next thing he knew a beautiful girl landed in his lap from a portal above him. She not only knocked the air out of him but also fought everyone's attention with her pretty noticeable baby bump. 

🦈 "What did you do!?" Denki shouted at him while helping you out of Kiri's lap.

🦈 "How am I supposed to know she fell out of the sky!" Kirishima yelled back. 

🦈 Everything got even more confusing when they saw the wedding ring on your left hand and your shirt (Which was oversized,black, and had a picture of a much older Kirishima on it,sporting an absolute MANE of red hair, with the words RED RIOT in bold under it.)

🦈 Iida had already started bombarding you with questions about your physical health and didn't notice you grabbing Kirishima's hand and squeezing it while also holding your bump. 

🦈 "Guys guys leave her alone already. Can't you see you're stressing her?" He said while helping you up and shooing everyone away as he took you to his dorm room. 

🦈 Once there he hears you giggle and mumble something about how "It's a little messier than what you told me."

🦈 Shark.exe has crashed. Excuse me what? Did he know you? He tried to rack his brain for an answer but never found one. 

🦈 "Um do you have your husband's number? Maybe we could call him and ask him to come pick you up." Kirishima says while grabbing his phone ready to dial whatever combination of numbers you gave him.

🦈 "You really don't know me yet do you?" You said lightly shifting your body so you could sit on his bed and get off your slightly aching feet. Kirishima shook his head slowly feeling like he did something wrong before another portal opened up and in walked (more like ran) a older and, in his mind, more manly version of him

🦈 Immediately you sprang up and hugged the male and letting out a rather loud “Kiri!!” The male hugged you back before asking if you were ok and placing his hands on your stomach.”I’m fine Kiri I just want to go home and see our son.”You said giggling before turning back to current Kirishima who looked almost ready to pass out.

🦈 “I’ll see you in the future but a little hint.” You leaned in and muttered in Kirishima’s ear “I’m the only one who calls you Eiji.” But before he could piece it together you were already gone.

🦈 P.S He did figure it out and gained the courage to ask you out and the first date went amazing save for the fact he tripped and fell. He totally embarrassed himself but you made it better by giving him a kiss at the end of the date. 

Bakugo💥

💥 Ok bear with me on this one, how this played out Bakugo was walking in the dorm building, after he had his ass handed to him in training, when he heard someone yelling, like YELLING, louder than even him. He walked to the kitchen ,where the noise was coming from, and saw a woman with a large pregnant stomach yelling at Denki who had taken away some of Bakugo’s personal stash of very spicy chips from her.

💥 At first he was mad that someone had actually found the secret stash, then he was amazed that someone was able to handle the amount of spice the chips had (he won’t admit it but even to him sometimes the chips were too hot to handle). 

💥 Denki sees Bakugo watch the situation before he runs behind Bakugo while screeching “Bro get your girlfriend!!” (poor Denki can't get a break) 

💥 “Hey don’t hide behind him you coward! Give me the chips back!” You yelled at the blonde, who by now had run away into the safety of his room, but soon the anger turned to happiness when you saw Bakugo. “Baby!” You squealed and (tried) to run to him but he held his arms out and backed away.

💥 “Woah, woah, woah who are you calling baby!?” Bakugo yelled and in turn made you stop and hold under your stomach.

💥 “You silly! Don’t you remember me?” You say suddenly going quiet for a second.

💥 “No!? Should I?” Bakugo now regretting what he said, I mean you were obviously heavily pregnant and you called him ‘ baby’. He was trying to rack his brain of any ‘’ extras’’ he had come into contact with but came up with nothing. Though he did find it strange that you kinda looked like a girl he liked to pick on from class 1-B. 

💥 Your mouth opened in a quiet realization “You don’t know me yet do you?” To which the male responded with a confused shake of his head. You didn’t seem upset about it though like he thought you would. 

💥 “Well then can you help me get to the couch please? My back is starting to hurt from standing for so long.” You said almost shyly glanging down at your large stomach before back up at Bakugo. He nodded silently and helped you over to the couch where you gladly sat down and grabbed his wrist lightly. “Can you please stay? I know you have no clue who I am but if you wanted to know I will tell you.” You said happily. 

💥 After he sat down (and gave you back the spicy chips that Denki stole) you told him everything, about how you met, how things are in the future, and much to his surprise how his future self proposed to you. (He thought his future self was both amazing and an annoying simp for you). You started to giggle at his surprised face when you finished the story and it turned into a full blown laugh when he looked at the engagement ring on your finger then to your large stomach. 

💥 Wait, that would mean he……....Pomeranian has died and  left the chat. 

💥 But before he could ask to make sure a portal opened up and an older and ahem…. More muscular version of him appeared and his future self almost sprinted to you and hugged you tightly (being careful of your stomach of course). Future him pulled away and looked over you for any sort of injuries and, when finding none, turned to his current self. 

💥 “Thanks for taking care of her for me.” His future self says “It might not seem like it now, especially after that beating you took today in training, but things are going to get better. Trust me.” His future self mummers quietly before picking you up bridal style and going back through the portal.

💥 The next time he sees you he doesn't pick on you or call you an extra much to the confusion of you and his classmates. But he knows it will make sense in the future and he holds onto what his future self said “Everything is going to be ok.”

Amajiki🐙

🐙 This poor shy boy didn’t even know what hit him when he walked into his dorm and saw a pregnant woman holding a child that oddly looked similar to him. Miro had grabbed his arm and pulled him toward the woman sitting on the couch holding the child protectively. 

🐙 Amajiki was even more confused when the small child jumped out of the girls arms and ran to him and HUGGED him yelling “Daddy!!” His face turned about 70 shades of red and he kept stumbling over his words still trying to comprehend the situation. 

🐙 “Lillia!” You said making the little girl look back at you. The little girl had rather long wavy hair that was the exact color of Amajiki’s just a little lighter and she had his dark violet eyes. She looked like an exact carbon copy of him. 

🐙 “Sorry mommy..”Lillia whispered and crawled back into the woman’s lap and hugged her large stomach. This poor boy was so confused. The little girl, who couldn’t have been any older than 4, called him daddy and the woman mommy and the last time he checked he was still (sadly) a virgin. 

🐙 “I’m sorry about that Amajiki . She doesn't understand that you have no clue who we are yet.”  You said looking down at the little girl as you rubbed her small back. Lillia had her cheek squished against your stomach whispering things to the unborn baby. 

🐙 Amajiki flushed red again and started to mess with his fingers, his anxiety starting to kick in a little. “B-but she c-called me daddy?” He mumbled out shyly making you smile lightly

🐙 “God you haven’t changed much since highschool.” You said rubbing your lower stomach. Amajiki flushes red again but manages to gain the courage to sit next to you. The little girl tries to crawl over to him but stops when she looks at your stern face. Amajiki notices this and says something about it being ok and Lillia quickly goes and crawls into his lap hiding her tiny face in his chest. 

🐙 At first he freezes up not being used to human contact much but calms down rather quickly(which is odd since he never really calms down at human contact). He looks over at you and tries to figure out who you are, he has never seen you around campus before and does not recall seeing you at the festival. 

🐙 You smiled as you watched him try to figure out who you were. You knew what he was doing since whenever he was thinking really hard his eyebrows would furrow together and he basically looked like he was pouting.

🐙  It was so adorable. 

🐙  Well it was until he realized if his future self actually WAS your boyfriend/fiance/husband whatever that meant he also……. Shy.boi.exe left the game

🐙 You were about to explain but a portal opened and a older version of Amajiki practically ran through and grabbed your face lightly checking you over before looking Lillia over who latched herself onto his leg 

🐙 "Baby we're fine." You said holding the side of his face letting him calm down. Older Amajiki looked over to his present self and smiled mumbling out a thank you before picking both Lillia and you up and disappearing through the portal. 

🐙 His current self did end up finding out who you were. You worked part time at a flower shop that he walked past a lot going to the park. (He ended up buying some flowers from you and you had slipped your number between some of the flowers.)

#boku no hero academia #mha x reader #mha fanfiction #mha headcanons #bnha fluff #bnha headcanons #bnha × reader #kirishima x reader #mha kirishima #bnha kirishima #mha bakugo katsuki #bakugou katsuki #amajiki x reader #mha amajiki #headcanon #×reader #my hero acadamy

[kpop-zone]

Twice reaction to their s/o flirting with them post wisdom teeth removal

A raspy groan automatically escaped your mouth once you slowly felt yourself regaining some consciousness. You’ve had one hell of a dream. It even almost felt like you were physically able to feel its effects. Your whole face felt numb and your eyelids were heavier than ever. Maybe you should get some more sleep?

“Y/N?”

The sound of someone calling your name, however, interfered with your plan as your urge to see the face to this angelic voice was bigger than your desire to fall back asleep. With difficulty, you opened your eyes, feeling how the bright light seemingly burned your retina. After blinking a few times though, the silhouette of a person leaning over you became clearer and clearer until you were able to admire her beautiful face.

“Whoa.”

Once again, your mouth was faster than your brain and you gasped in awe. Were you still dreaming?

“Is this a dream?”

You asked dumbfounded while staring at the woman in front of you.

“No, Y/N. You’re in a dental clinic.”

The woman giggled in amusement and you hummed pensively. That would explain why your face felt like it didn’t belong to your body. It didn’t explain though why the most stunning human being on this planet was watching over you right now.

“If all the nurses in here look as pretty as you, this must be heaven?”

You probed bluntly, not knowing where this sudden confidence was coming from, but knowing that you had to try everything to keep this enchantress by your side.

Nayeon

Nayeon stared at you dumbfounded for a second before bursting in laugher. The nurse had warned her that you could need a while to regain consciousness, but she hadn’t expected you to turn into another person.

“What’s so funny?”

You mumbled, having difficulty to open your mouth.

“Are you really trying to flirt with me?”

Nayeon choked out between laughter and you pouted sulkily.

“Why not? I’m a bit battered right now, but I’ll bounce back in no time and then I’ll take good care of you. A girl like you deserves someone who is willing to give you the world!”

It was a little hard to understand you, but you didn’t fail to transmit the sincerity of your words, causing Nayeon to pull herself together. She admired your determination, so she decided to play along.

“Do you really think you can pull someone like me?”

She smirked while sitting down on the edge of your bed and leaning forward in order to reduce the space between the two of you. Nervously, you gulped, looking like a rabbit caught in the headlights, but then you nodded slowly, managing to make Nayeon grin. Who would have thought that you could be so flirtatious?

“Well then I hope you’re going to keep your word.”

She whispered before pressing a gentle kiss on your cheek, knowing that her gesture would probably give you a heart attack. You needed to know though that she was the bigger flirt in your relationship...

Jeongyeon

“What?”

Jeongyeon asked while staring at you in confusion, wondering whether she had misheard your mumbling.

“I’ve said that this is my first time meeting an angel.”

You slurred while grinning proudly, causing Jeongyeon to scoff in disbelief. Where you really trying to woo her right now? With cheesy pickup lines? Not being able to contain herself any longer, she cracked up and doubled up with laughter.

“Oh my god, Y/N. I’ve always known that you are an idiot. But wow, you’ve really managed to outdo yourself this time.”

She sighed once she had calmed down a bit and you screwed up your face in confusion.

“Do we know each other?”

You stuttered, looking like a helpless, disoriented puppy, causing Jeongyeon’s expression to change in an instant. Suddenly, she felt bad for you, so she looked at you fondly with a smile playing on her lips.

“We sure do. But don’t worry about that now, you’ll soon feel like yourself again. I’ll get you some water, maybe that’ll help you to wake up. Don’t move, Casanova.”

She warned you jokingly before leaving the room to get you something refreshing to drink. In her mind, your cheesy pick-up line still played on repeat and she giggled to herself as she walked down the corridor to the water dispenser. She would make sure that you wouldn’t forget about this incident that quickly.

Momo

“Hold up...what did Y/N just say?”

Nayeon asked from somewhere behind Momo, the mockery clearly audible in her voice, but Momo couldn’t manage to avert her gaze from you. A blush had risen to her cheeks and she shyly smiled to herself. She didn’t know why she was reacting like this, after all the two of you had been dating for years already, but somehow you were still able to flatter her with ease.

“Y/N...”

Momo giggled while slapping your arm lightly, causing you to smirk, obviously pleased with her reaction.

“Don’t be shy. Your blush makes you look even more beautiful. Red really is your color.”

You winked, causing Sana and Nayeon to burst into loud laughter, making Momo’s blush turn into an even darker shade of red.

“Now I know how Y/N was able to woo you so fast.”

Nayeon snickered and Momo shyly looked to the floor.

“Shut up...”

She mumbled in embarrassment, but Nayeon only smirked. Her eyes glinted mischievously, and it seemed like she was just getting ready to tease Momo some more, but before she had the chance to, you suddenly piped up again.

“Wait what?! I already wooed you?”

You gasped in shock, managing to make Momo laugh.

“Yes, Y/N.”

She stated before burying her face in the crook of your neck in hopes to hide the blush that was still glowing brightly on her cheeks. She wasn’t so sure who would be more embarrassed after today...you or her?

Sana

Sana giggled happily when she heard such a flirtatious remark coming from you. Usually, you always made fun of her penchant for cheesy things. But today the roles seemed to be reversed.

“Heaven? What does that make me then?”

She asked with one eyebrow raised, hoping to see more of this sweet side of yours.

“The angel of my sweetest dreams.”

You grinned dazed, causing Sana to laugh loudly.

“Ah Y/N, you are so adorable!”

She squealed before gently cupping your face, having to resist the urge to squeeze your cheeks.

“Please...have you looked into the mirror today? Your face is the peak of adorableness.”

You retorted and Sana blushed shyly. She wasn’t used to you being such a flirt.

“Stop, Y/N... you’re making me flustered. Don’t you know that you don’t need to win my heart? It’s already yours.”

She smiled before intertwining your fingers, managing to leave you speechless. Amused, she guided your hand to her lips and kissed your knuckles. You didn’t seem to have expected your advances to be successful and stared at her with an open mouth, causing Sana to giggle smugly.

“Good, so my charms are still working too.”

Jihyo

For a second, Jihyo was taken aback by your bluntness, but then she figured that you were probably still high on your anesthesia. Amused, she chuckled while leaning closer to you.

“Heaven? Is that so?”

She asked rhetorically and you immediately nodded your head vigorously, causing her to surge forward to steady your head. The doctor had told you to avoid rapid movements like this today.

“Your eyes are so beautiful. I swear if they keep shining like that, the sun has to find another galaxy...”

You mumbled mesmerized while staring deeply into her eyes as if you were hypnotized. One compliment after the other gushed out of you until one of the cotton rolls that was supposed to stop the bleeding in your mouth fell out, causing Jihyo to gasp. She had to shut you up somehow...

“I will kiss you if you manage to be quiet for fifteen minutes.”

She blurted out and your eyes almost popped out of your head in shock. Nevertheless, you weren’t shy to agree to her proposition.

“Everything you want.”

You mumbled instantly and Jihyo giggled to herself.

She wouldn’t have deemed it possible for you to be even more whipped for her than usual. But she wasn’t complaining...

Mina

“Nurse? Don’t you know who I am?”

Mina asked, not knowing whether she should be amused or concerned.

“Do we know each other?”

You replied puzzled, causing her to chuckle shyly.

“Yes we do. I brought you here with Sana. Don’t you remember?”

She smiled softly before pointing at Sana who had kept her company while waiting for you to wake up. Neither of their faces seemed to be familiar to you though and you only looked at her apologetically.

“No, I don’t. I’m incredibly sorry. A pretty and kind person like you doesn’t deserve to be treated like this. Maybe I can make it up to you some time? And invite you for dinner?”

You suddenly grinned cheekily, causing Mina’s jaw to drop. Embarrassed, she started to blush and looked at Sana.

“Did Y/N just ask you out?”

The older asked dumbfounded although she seemed to be visibly amused.

“Yes, I did or are the two of you dating?”

You sounded seriously worried and Mina could see by the smirk on Sana’s face that she had some mischievous plan, but Mina wouldn’t allow one of her members to tease you in your miserable state today.

“No, we’re not. I would love to go out with you.”

She blurted out and you smiled widely, making her blush even more. Hopefully, you would soon regain your full consciousness again because she didn’t know if she could bear any more of your flirting.

Dahyun

Dahyun raised her eyebrows in disbelief. Were you challenging her? Did you really think that you could beat her at her own game? You were clearly not in your right mind yet; cheesy pickup lines were her expertise after all.

“It must be! Because I’m standing in front of an angel right now!”

She gasped exaggerated before smirking when she saw your puzzled expression.

“I can’t believe that worked...”

You stuttered surprised by the success of your pick-up line, causing Dahyun to laugh in amusement.

“I was simply defenseless against your charms...”

She sighed as she sat down on the edge of your bed and you stared at her speechlessly.

“What now? Will you take me out for dinner?”

Dahyun groaned impatiently when you didn’t manage to utter single word in order to tease you and your eyes widened in shock.

“Yes, yes of course!”

You exclaimed panicked while trying to sit up, but Dahyun was quick to stop you.

“I was just joking, Y/N! Please lay down. You can take me out on a date some other time.”

She giggled while pushing you down with force, panicked that your wound would open again if you would put too much pressure on it.

“Promise?”

You asked with a pout on your lips, making it hard for Dahyun to hide her amusement. But she drew a serious expression and held out her hand for you to shake.

“Promise.”

She stated soberly as if you were wrapping up a business deal and you shook her hand while a big grin spread on your face.

“This is the best day ever!”

You cheered and Dahyun scoffed. Hopefully you would still remember your invitation when you weren’t high anymore.

Chaeyoung

“Nurse?”

Chaeyoung chuckled in amusement once she realized that you were still high as a kite and the smirk on your lips faltered.

“You are my nurse right?”

You mumbled, having difficulty to keep the cotton rolls in your mouth.

“Do I look like your nurse?”

Chaeyoung laughed while pointing at her baggy jeans and knitted cardigan, causing you to study her outfit intensely before realizing your mistake.

“Who are you then? Oh and are you single?”

You asked bluntly and Chaeyoung needed to hold her belly that was starting to hurt from giggling too much. She couldn’t believe how different you were from your usual self. This was a great form of entertainment for her though...

“I am not.”

She replied to tease you and you creased your face in annoyance.

“Such a shame...Is your partner treating you well? Because I can guarantee you that I would fulfill your every wish.”

You didn’t seem to want to accept your defeat and Chaeyoung shook her head in amusement. Your persistence was charming; she had to give you that.

“Well that is true, you do that.”

She smiled after deciding to stop teasing you and you frowned in confusion. She didn’t feel like explaining you your whole life story though, so she simply plopped down on the chair next to your bed and winked at you cheekily.

“Rest a bit now, jagi. Everything will soon make sense again.”

Tzuyu

“I-I’m not your nurse.”

Tzuyu stuttered shyly after you had managed to make her blush with your sudden advances.

“You aren’t?”

You asked dumbfounded and Tzuyu shook her head slowly.

“No, I’m um...”

She looked around as if she was about to spill a secret before clearing her throat.

“I’m your girlfriend.”

As soon as her word had left her lips, your jaw dropped, causing Tzuyu to wince. You weren’t even supposed to talk. She was sure that opening your mouth that far couldn’t be good for you.

“My girlfriend?? How did I manage to pull a goddess like you??”

You yelled and Tzuyu quickly stumbled forward to press a finger on your lips to shut you up. Embarrassed she looked at the door, expecting a nurse to appear any second in order to scold you for your loud behavior. But to her delight, the two of you remained the only persons in the room, so she removed her hand from your face again while avoiding your gaze shyly.

“Yes, I am your girlfriend.”

She repeated herself and you gaped in awe.

“Really? Because this is simply too good to be true. If this is just a prank, it’s not funny. My heart is literally jumping out of my chest right now.”

You looked at her suspiciously and Tzuyu had to smile because of your adorableness.

“Really.”

She assured you before reaching for your hand to give it a light squeeze. Finally, you seemed to believe her words and you started beaming from one ear to the other.

“I’m the luckiest living being on this planet!”

You yelled once more and Tzuyu buried her face in her hand in defeat. Hopefully, you would soon go back to your normal self, because she had no idea how to keep you in check right now...

#twice reaction #twice #im nayeon #nayeon #yoo jeongyeon #jeongyeon #hirai momo #momo #minatozaki sana #sana #park jihyo #jihyo #myoui mina #mina #kim dahyun #dahyun #son chaeyoung #chaeyoung #chou tzuyu #tzuyu #twice x reader #idolxreader #girl group reaction #girl group #kpop reaction #kpop

[michals]

Can i please kindly request something with klaus and diego? ✨

Klaus is being antisocial, which is strange for him, but then again no one seems to have noticed. This one time though he’ll let it go, everyone’s got a lot on their minds these days what with the whole world being rearranged. So he’s hunkered down on the fire escape outside of the run down boarding house Allison rumored the landlord to get, smoking and listening to his thoughts echo through his head that’s emptier than it was a day ago.

“We might not technically exist anymore but those things will still kill you,” says a voice from the open window. Diego’s head appears, giving him that disapproving look like he’s chiding a kid. Jokes on him though, Klaus is officially second oldest at this point.

“Well, considering the laundry list of things I’ve put in my body a cigarette might as well be a Tootsie Pop, mi hermano,” Klaus says, trying to sound teasing but he can hear the futility in his voice. He’s hoping Diego doesn’t.

Diego frowns harder at him, looks like he’s about to give another health class lecture but after a beat he just lets out a breath through his nose, the frown softening. He looks out across the city, studying it for a long moment. Klaus watches him out of the corner of his eye, hoping he doesn’t do exactly what he ends up doing. Diego hefts himself up over the window frame, testing the strength of the ancient fire escape before settling down with his back against the brick wall.

Klaus tries not to sigh. He’s not really the ‘sit in silence and reflect’ type, even all those years in the 60’s he’d rarely had a moment of peace with the cult around, but right now he just wants to be alone. Everyone else gets to brood, dammit.

“It’s all exactly the same,” Diego says, still looking out over the skyline. He shrugs like he didn’t just say something kind of stupid, “I mean like, the city – so far – it’s just like I remember.”

Diego would know, he’d stalked these streets for years; so did Klaus but he usually saw them through a drunken haze. “Guess our Sparrow friends also kept Valex Valex from blowing up the Sears Tower.” Klaus tries to remember that mission but doesn’t put much effort into it. If anything’s at the back of his mind it’s their old missions.

Diego’s mouth twists at the mention of the Sparrow Academy. Klaus hates that whole thing too, sort of. It’s more he hates that one specific person is in it. He blows out a smoke ring.

“It’s sunny though,” he says. Was sunny anyway, it’s 6 p.m. so the horizon’s getting dark.

“Yeah, wonder how that works,” Diego says, eyebrows furrowed. “It’s supposed to be raining.”

Klaus wonders where his umbrella is right now. “Oh, sure Five’s got the answer somewhere in that quizzical little brain of his. Any grand ideas from our young old man?”

Diego shakes his head, “Naw he’s down for the count. Finally ran outta steam.”

“Aww, poor little guy.”

Diego shoots him a look that says ‘don’t let him hear you call him that’. Then he pauses, says in a curious voice, “He was asking all of us our favorite colors.”

Klaus’s turn to pause. “…unexpected. Why? He knitting us all sweaters?”

“Somewhere between the second and third whiskey – before Allison took it away – he said something about-” he stops to think about it, like he’s not sure he heard right, “how the last time he saw us we were kids and he doesn’t really know us. This version of us.”

“Huh,” is all Klaus can say. Now that the thought’s in his head it actually makes sense. Five doesn’t really know them as adults. Even though 45 years is longer than 17 that’s still 17 years between the siblings Five knew and the ones he’s come back to. Makes sense too that this new wrinkle in their situation would make him realize that.

“What’re the results?” he asks, “What’d everyone say?”

“Allison likes pink-” Klaus hums cause that’s not surprising, “Vanya likes green. Luther likes yellow.”

“Yellow?”

“Yeah I wasn’t expecting that either. Five likes blue.”

“And? What about you?”

“Orange,” Diego says like he’s waiting for Klaus to make a comment.

But Klaus just thinks it’s funny, and fitting, that’d they’d all be different. He takes a drag on his cigarette.

“Well?” Diego asks, eyebrows raised, “Come on, what’s yours? Five passed out before he could get out here.”

“Oh ya know frère, I like all the colors of the rainbow, I can’t possibly discriminate against the others just to pick one,” there, that sounds more successfully flippant.

He purposefully keeps his eyes on the horizon cause he knows Diego’s staring him with some kind of look on his face.

“For real,” he says, his tone as gentle as it gets for him, “you’ve got one don’t you.”

Klaus breathes out more smoke. Dave’s eyes had been light blue, his dog tags are slate gray, Klaus’s favorite shirt had been yellow, that umbrella had had a pink stripe, but no, those are all wrong.

“Purple,” he says. He points over the railing towards the sunset at the melting decrescendo of the sky, at a dark royal purple strip, “that shade specifically.”

Diego stares at it with him for a while, they watch as it disappears as it gets darker out.

“We really don’t know shit about each other do we?” Diego says. He sounds annoyed by it, frustrated. “Any of us.”

Understatement of the year brother, Klaus thinks but it suddenly widens the hollow part in his heart that lingers there now. He had someone who knew him. He had someone who’d been there with him his whole life. Ben knew all his likes, his dislikes, all his secrets both dark and stupid. Klaus had taken it all for granted, more obvious now more than ever when Diego says that. The cherry on the big beautiful cake of a mess that this is is that Ben does exist, and he’d looked Klaus in the eye and had no fucking clue who he was.

Diego breaks the silence: “First year I started going out, doing the solo hero thing-” Klaus is tempted to interrupt with ‘illegal vigilante thing you mean’, “got this sucker.” He points to the scar running from his cheekbone past his hairline. “Mafia enforcer. Took him down, got him arrested, 14 stitches and 3 staples. Walked away like it was nothing. Got back to my place and fell down the stairs. Broke my leg.”

Klaus is very much full of grief and malaise but he laughs out loud.

“That night was when I met Patch actually,” Diego gives a wan smile, but none of this is lost on Klaus. Probably took a lot to admit to any of that but he looks like some kind of weight – a small one – just fell off his shoulder. Probably wanted to tell someone that stupid story for a long time, probably ever since the idea of Team Zero popped into his head.

“Allison’s gonna wanna hear that one.”

Diego blanches. He turns to Klaus. “Alright, your turn. What d'you you got?”

That is a very, very loaded request. Klaus isn’t ready to answer it. He could be glib, like always, he’s got plenty of stories like the chocolate pudding one. He can’t give anything big right now but he knows what he can say to Diego.

“You’re the only one I told about what happened with Hazel and Cha Cha.”

Diego’s brow knit together again in surprise. “Yeah?” Klaus nods. Diego goes quiet, looks at his knees like he’s taking this in. After a bit he nods.

“Thanks,” he says, all macho sincerity in his voice and eyes. Klaus gives into a smile. All different aren’t they, like their favorite colors.

Klaus’s cigarette is burning down and he takes a drag to take advantage of what’s left of it. He wishes he could just pass out like Five.

Diego seems to understand that’s enough for one night. He climbs to his feet, brushes rust particles from his pants. “Don’t stay out all night. You already lost out on the bed and couch by the way.”

Five in the bed and Klaus will bet Allison and Vanya are gonna sleep head to feet on the couch. Poor tall Luther never had a chance at either. “I’ve slept in plenty of tubs in my day. Including a nice clawfoot one in a senator’s mansion.” He points the nearly gone cigarette up at him, “There you go. There’s another one.”

Diego gives another approving smile but doesn’t ask for the story, not yet anyway. Allison will love that one too. He disappears through the window.

Klaus stays outside for another two cigarettes, after the sky’s gone dark. He thinks a whole lot and not much at all. He wishes he had something to take but he can’t bring himself to go out to find anything. Instead he picks himself up and meanders back to the room, says a half cheery goodnight and takes a throw pillow into the bathroom and settles down in the tub.

#tua fic #umbrella academy fanfic #the umbrella academy #klaus hargreeves #diego hargreeves #my fic #'drabble' i said 'mini fic' i said #i'm ridiculous #also yeah this is another one set right after the end of s2 but whatever #and yeah they're in two dif places in both cause one needed a pool and one needed a fire escape that's what the muse wanted #and i made the city chicago cause i wanted to use the sear's tower so there #i'm still convinced i got some kind of major detail from the show wrong like i have in every single thing i've written for it lol

[themysteriousauthor18]

Android Alastor oneshot [Radiodust]

Saw this art of Angel making an Android Alastor. Thought it was a really cool idea and wanted to make a oneshot of it!

Artist of the AMAZING art above:

The darkness slowly faded away, and something not bright, but a little less dark took its place. 

It's vision focused, a blurry image focusing itself down to the finer details. A warmer color invaded his vision, one that his brain came to know as...pink. This 'pink' seemed to cover most of the interior of the room. 

And as a pair of eyes looked around, it took note of the tiles on the floor, the cooler temperature, and metallic walling. 

A basement.

It's mind concluded. 

A small room within a basement, an empty chair seat in front of them, and a desk noticeably messy to their left were what caught its attention. It was unable to turn its head very much, or even it's body. But from its angle, it could barely make out what appeared to be skeptics of a robot to the left wall, just over the desk.

I want to move.

It thought. Pulling against what felt to be restraints, but decided it was best not to. Lest they damage anything. 

It's prying came to a halt when it picked up the soft tapping of shoes against the flooring. In the dim lighting, they could see a shadow drawing closer to the entrance of the room archway. 

They only patiently waited, eyes focusing in on the outline of something coming to a pause in the doorway. 

No, someone. 

They corrected. 

A human, and one quite disheveled. Blonde hair hastily tied back into a pony-tail. A white labcoat lazily draped around their arms leaving the tank top exposed. Their legs dressed in pink and purple stockings for small black heeled boots to cover their feet. 

This human seemed rather distressed. For once they saw the pair of eyes looking at them, they suddenly dropped the mug in their hands causing the brownish liquid to pour out onto the floor. 

Hands flying up to cover their mouth and wide green eyes staring in shock, they took a step closer. "Oh my god.." They muttered. 

Its head tilted as it examined the human furthur, smiling. 

The blonde-haired human was practically jogging in their spot, grinning once they removed their hands. 

"Holy shit it worked! O-okay okay okay..." They calmed themselves quickly hopping back into their chair and looking up into those eyes. Their chair swayed with them as they moved, resting hands between their legs.

"System AI begin start-up." They said barely containing the excitement in their voice.

The being was confused as its vision was suddenly invaded by multiple warnings, notifications, and many other things of which they didn't understand. After a moment or two, they cleared away. Leaving it's vision clear once more. 

Looking back down at the human who was lightly bouncing in the chair, eyes sparkling with anticipation he waited for them to say something else. 

"Alright-do you know who I am?" They asked, expression falling a little as if nervous.

The being tilted their head, eyes tracing over the person's body. Focusing in on little details such as the adam's apple in their throat, hair color, skin color, voice, and many other details.

After a moment, the being spoke. "You are Anthony Giuliani. A 23-year-old male. You are 69% Italian and 40%-"

Before it could finish its sentence the man sprung off from his seat practically jumping for joy.

"Holy shit it works! YOU work!" 

"Your heart rate has increased by 20%." 

The blonde paused in his celebratory victory and looked to the being. A frown played on his lips as he scratched his head. 

"Your tawking like your a robot. Damn...I thought I made you deviant. Shit guess it's somethin' well have to work on." He shook his head moving over to the wall and pressing something.

With a faint beeping the being felt something distracted itself from its back. It stood a little more freely now, nothing, in particular, holding it in place anymore. 

Taking a step back, the Italian moved over to pick up the mug he'd originally dropped. Setting it on his desk he turned back to the being, coat lazily draping around his hips as he rested his hands there.

"Alright...first of all, call me Angel. Angel Dust. Got it?"

The being blinked a few times, a small red circle on its temple blinking with them. "Yes. Angel Dust." It repeated in a mono-toned voice. 

The man looked annoyed by the tone but said nothing. "Second, what do you want your name to be?" 

The being stared, confused. 

"That is not in my function." It simply stated.

Angel groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Okay look. YOU are an android. I made you, but you're to..." he paused trying to find the right words. "Robotic. I can't have a boyfriend whose all emotionless and robily." 

" 'Robily' is not a real word." 

The blonde scoffed. "Well, there's a start." He turned away, being mindful of the pool of coffee on the floor. "I'll be right back, take a look around. Just don't go too far." 

"Very well." It stated. 

Once the human left, the android quietly turned to look around the room, no longer restrained. 

Looking at it from this angle, the android realized it was not quite just a room but a lab more accurately put. Shelves of books and a few trophies lined some of the walls. While for the rest mainly consisted of boxes holding various android parts. 

A whiteboard lay on the main wall of the room, opposite to the wall the desk lay in front of. Equations and measurements were drawn all over the board. Some even rough illustrations of a model. 

It turned and walked over to the desk, having a clearer vision of the schematic hanging over the desk he could now see there was something written on it.

'Project AL4570R Aka the perfect boyfriend.'

It read.

  ...[.Decoding.]...

.....[.Result: Alastor ]....

...[Update: Name may be Alastor]...

...[Gender: Male?]...

It turned away, finding that its hands rested behind its back. A motion that felt comfortable for it. 

Stepping back over near the entrance, a standing mirror greeted it.

As it looked at the reflection, it's head tilted to the side at the image. Not a human greeted it, but rather a tall.....deer man? 

Simply put it was a deer man.

More intricately put, they looked to be human safe for the large pair of red eyes, and deer ears all to obviously attached to the tops of its head. Its hair was a crimson red, the tips being a dark black, it's skin some shade of brown almost greyish. 

With the monocle over one of its eyes, black gloves, and the black to red tailcoat, it both wore and made up its body, gave it a more refined appearance. The small bow tie on its neck seemed to somehow bring it all together. 

"I'm back." 

Its head turned immediately as a machine would to a sound as the human entered back. A mop in his hand. 

"Already like looking at yourself huh?" Angel joked, noticing the androids staring at the mirror. 

Not replying to the comment, the android turned as Angel mopped up the spilled coffee. 

"You had said 'boyfriend'. My knowledge tells me that is a term associated with men in a non-platonic relationship. So am I a male then." 

Pausing in the mopping, Angel leaned on its handle smiling to the android. "Well look at you gettin' all smart and shit. Let's see, do you know your name too?" 

The human continued to mop up the mess. 

"Alastor." The android stated.

Putting the mob aside, the mess is picked up, the human turned towards the android almost impressed. 

"Bingo. Now, I'm gonna need to run some tests. See how your internal hard drive is and make sure the pump is regulating that blue blood enough so you don't die on me. That be annoyin' to deal with." The blonde muttered to himself sidestepping the android.

Alastor watched curiously as the human shuffled through his papers on the desk. 

Those large red eyes scanned the room once again, landing on something they handed seen before. 

A small box sitting beside the desk some old song playing through it. With its interest peaked, Alastor moved over to the desk once more kneeling down because it was rather tall, and peered at the small box.

Angel paused and looked over to the android, smiling a little. "Do you like that?" 

The android poked at the box. "My scanners tell me this device is called a radio." 

An amused laugh came from the human as he sat down in his chair at the desk. Moved his hand over to switch the dial and by extension the channel. 

The android's ears moved back at the sudden noise. "Huh, that's fuckin' adorable," Angel muttered, fascinated. Turning his attention back to the radio, "yeah but I keep it in here sometimes just to listen to music." 

The android repeated the same motion, switching the dails. Its eyes growing in amazement. 

Angel laughed as the android continued to fiddle with it. 

"Maybe your more of a deviant than I thought." 

#Android Alastor AU #Radiodust #Angel Dust #Alastor #Oneshot #Hazbin hotel #dbh #Hazbin hotel AU #Fanart writing #Not my art

[alicemitch09writes]

lame

01.

it was supposed to be us against the world

It was just a normal Tuesday for you, the scorching sun was out, seeping whatever energy you had for today, class had just ended, and you were treading the thought of having to work later that day. But hey, girl’s gotta fend for herself, right?

Just as you arrived at the station, your phone buzzed in your pocket. Lazily taking it out, your (e/c) eyes scanned the text before shooting wide open, you instantly took off, never minding work, thoughts flying to one thing - Izuku.

For such a prestigious school, it sure had a lousy way of being indiscreet if it were located on top of a hill. Winded from the trip, barely feeling your legs, drenched completely in sweat from the trek, a hero awaited for you at the gate, giving you instructions on how to get to your location (he figured to give it straight to you, judging from your harried breathing and frazzled state alone).

Finding the clinic, you all but burst into the room, eyes easily finding curly green locks. "Izuku!"

Green eyes widened at the sight of you, taking the sight of you. "(Nickname)-!? H-How did you-"

"Are you alright?!"

Flinching at the pitch, tone, and of the overall worry painting your features, he all but gave you a sheepish look whilst rubbing the back of his head. That didn't help, but at least seeing him now in the bed was making your worries lessen.

“He’ll be fine, I’ve treated the worst of his injuries.” The small lady- hero, Recovery Girl, tells you from where she sat. “He just woke up and has made a full recovery now!”

Allowing yourself to sigh in relief, you collapsed by his bed, legs pressed against the cool tiled-floor, eyeing the green-haired boy with narrowed eyes.

"Really, Izuku, you better take better care of yourself."

A scarred hand reached out to pat your shoulder, seeping away the tiredness of practically storming all the way here. "I know, (Nickname). I'm sorry for worrying you..."

Once Recovery Girl assured you that she was to see your best friend fit, you allowed yourself to rest a while before making sure that his recovery was done. You would have loved to wait until he got better, so you can leave, but you had to report to work, even for just a bit then head home to change. Giving your best friend an apologetic look, Izuku nodded in understanding and you reluctantly complied to leave. But not without giving him a parting hug.

“Really, you have to stop giving me a heart attack,” you warned him, teasingly, earning a laugh from the green-haired boy. “I’ll be over for dinner later, okay?”

At that, his eyes brightened. “I’ll be sure to tell mom! She’ll surely be happy to have you over.”

“And I look forward to Auntie’s cooking!”

With one last wave at your best friend, a polite-grateful bow to the school nurse, you turned to the door.

Once out, however, you were face to face with the last person you wanted to see. You ignored him, bent on getting out of here. There was nothing to be said. Absolutely nothing. And it was better off that way.

“Ta-dah!”

“Uwah!!!” big green eyes – matching the shade of his wild curly locks, widened.

“What is it, what is it?” a small blond boy ran towards them excitedly, especially at the excitement at the tone of his two precious friends. “So, what is it?” he asked, head tilted in question at the object in hand.

Grinning toothily, the young girl placed it atop curly locks, flowers intertwined with each other, the green camouflaging with the boy’s locks, as though the flowers sprouted from his hair. “It’s a flower crown, silly!”

“Che, and I was excited for nothing,” the blond boy’s cheeks puffed. Carmine eyes glared at the object on his friend’s hair. “So girly…”

Miffed, the (h/c) girl’s tiny fists balled, stomping her foot. “W-Well duh, because I am a girl!”

“Yeah right!” teased the blond, scratching the underside of his nose, angering the girl as she began to growl.

“Hey, no fighting now…” the small green-haired boy called out to his friends. “…please?”

The two looked at him, then at each other before parting away, the girl’s arms crossed.

“W-Well, if Izuku says so! I’ll forgive you this time, Katsuki!”

Carmine eyes narrowed; cheeks puffed as they reddened to slowly match his eyes. “W-Whatever!”

At that, Izuku smiled, getting to his feet to grab the hands of his best friends. Smiles appearing on his other friend’s faces.

“Ah, by the way!” the (h/c) girl suddenly cried out, alarming the two boys. Heading towards the pile of flowers she was fiddling with earlier, she took something from the ground, keeping her hands behind her as she walked up to the blond boy. “N-Ne, Katsuki, g-give me your hand…”

“…what? No way!”

“Come on, just give me your hand!”

“No way, you might give me a bug!”

“No, I won’t!”

“Then you might just prank me!”

“Didn’t I say that I wouldn’t?”

“How would I know if you’re telling the truth!”

“If you just give me your hand!”

Stuck in between another argument, the green-haired boy could only laugh at their antics.

“K-Katsuki, please?”

She widened her eyes on purpose, pouting purposely to jut out her lower lip, it was all it took for the young blond to cave in. Also, she did say ‘please’.

Reluctantly, stretched out his hand watching as she happily reached for it, her hand now in his. His cheeks reddened, not that he’d say it out loud and chose to frown. “Alright, now close your eyes!” Not wanting to argue, he did as was asked, without putting up a fight. At first, he heard Izuku gasp and she quickly shushed him, almost excitedly, before he felt something slip into his ring finger. “Okay, now open!”

The first thing he saw were (eye color) orbs so big and bright – filled with excitement and joy before his eyes fell unto the object in his hand. The flowers were just as wild and vibrant as Izuku’s, except his was more but fit to wrap around his stubby fingers.

“Wow, (Nickname), it’s so pretty! You’re amazing!”

Chubby cheeks flushed at that, turning to him expectantly. “D-Do you like it?” came her quiet voice.

Silence.

Green and (hair color) heads turned to each other, sharing a look. The taller girl was about to ask again but stopped head tilting. Beside her, the green-haired boy’s mouth formed into an ‘o’, hands slapping against his freckled cheeks.

“K-Katsuki, are you turning-“

“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” screamed the boy, messing his hair with his free hand before turning to the girl, a look of determination in his eyes as he pointed, using the hand with the ring flower. “W-W-When we get older, I-I’ll get you the biggest, shiniest, prettiest wedding ring, you hear me!?”

“Kacchan…”

“And Deku!” he turned to the green-haired boy, no longer irked by the flower crown. “You’re going to be my best man, got it?”

Realizing his outburst, the two friends burst into laughter, the blond’s face heating even more.

“Stop laughing at me! Deku! (Name)!”

“Auntie, you didn’t have to prepare so much!” you call out to Auntie Inko, eyes wide like saucers when you saw the meal served at the table.

Meal wasn’t even the word to put it, it was more like a feast! The Midoriya matriarch had prepared spaghetti, karaage, tempura shrimp, grilled eel, salad, and some side dishes. Basically, it was a lot of protein and carbs.

“Nonsense, (Name)-chan! It’s been a while since I last saw you,” she says kindly as you take a seat. “also, this is to celebrate Izuku’s good performance at school, so he can now rest easy for summer break.”

“Thank you so much, mom!” Izuku flusters, especially when she says it so easily in front of their guest as if you’re not used to it.

“Oh, Izuku, still that flustered momma’s boy, huh?”

“(N-Nickame)!”

Laughing, the three of you begin to dig in, exchanging stories about school, your part-time job, some funny customer Auntie Inko had to deal with earlier at the office (she was a government employee), your grandfather, and his dojo. It was always so comforting having dinners with the Midoriyas, always so warm.

Volunteering to help with the dishes, the two youngsters continued to catch up, talking about just about anything. It was always easy to talk with Izuku, always refreshing to be in his presence and hear his thoughts about things.

“Eh? So, you’re classmates with the son of Endeavour?”

“Yes! And his quirk is amazing! He’s half-cold and half-hot.”

“How does that even work?”

“Well, he’s in a constant state of homeostasis to balance out both quirks.”

“Must be hard to manage 24/7 then.”

“That’s true. But with enough practice, he may be able to stabilize both quirks to be able to do more, especially because it can be a double-whammy to villains who might not expect from someone capable of managing two quirks at the same time, there’s also the fact that he can be able to maneuver better should he master his other side…”

The kitchen slowly filled with his ramblings as the last of the dishes were taken care of, which you didn’t seem to mind. It always fun to hear him ramble, knowing that there was a big brain beneath his curly green locks. He was like a walking encyclopedia.

When the clock struck 9, you had announced that you were off, lest you worry your dear grandfather. Izuku volunteered to walk you home.

“Ah, please wait a minute, (Name)-chan!” Aunt Inko shouted when the two of you were at the front entrance, rushing towards you both with a few Tupperware in hand – leftovers from dinner.

“Oh my! Auntie Inko, thank you so much!”

She smiled at you, reaching up to caress your cheek. “Please drop by for dinner more often, (Name)-chan, okay?”

The hand was soft and warm against your cheek, calming your heart with love washing over you. Nodding, silently promising the older woman, you turned to Izuku, who opened the door for you.

“Good night, Auntie Inko!”

Once the two of you reached the neighborhood, you couldn’t help but stare off at the playground – still the same as before, but the paint’s probably new. You could almost picture out three kids running around, chasing each other merrily.

“Man, your mom really didn’t have to put up a feast.”

Laughing, Izuku scratched his cheek as he replied. “Well, she does like to go out whenever she can. Plus, it’s not always (Nickname) comes over for dinner. Also, I’ve been increasing my diet lately because of my quirk.”

Ah, his newly acquired quirk. “Come to think of it, you have been getting bulkier since the last I saw you.”

“Well, I have to compensate mass for all the power I’ve acquired.”

The matter of his quirk piqued your interest, especially because of how much it’s taking a toll on your friend. Instead of backing down, he readily worked his way to accommodate such power.

“True,” you nod, turning to him, realizing he’s grown several inches taller as well, you couldn’t help but giggle. “that and because you’re probably finally hitting puberty.”

“E-Eh!?”

“Dude, you used to be my height!” you tell him, gesturing with your hand your height. “Now, you’re…well, not really that huge, but the growth rate is a bit alarming, to say the least.”

Suddenly, he was sweating bullets, looking between relief and mild panic. “A-Ah…puberty…yes, m-must be th-that a-an-and i-i-it’s side-effects on t-th-the quirk- my quirk!” And there’s his stuttering. Still adorable.

Nudging him with your shoulder, you were quick to assure him. “There, there,” deciding to just sling your arm around his, you leaned on him comfortingly “you’ll always be cry baby Izuku to me!”

“(Nickname)!”

“Or was it wimpy Izuku?”

“(Nickname), please…”

Despite the name-calling, they were all in good fun. A comfortable silence filled in, nothing needed to be said as you two walked around the quiet streets of Musutafu.

For the first time since you were kids, you were apart because you went to different high schools, it hurt because you two were always together and you were each other’s shoulder to lean on. Technology had a great way of bridging you two together, keeping each other up to date on the other’s lives. But nothing beat direct communication with the ones you loved and you relished nothing more than these small moments with your best friend.

“By the way, (Nickname),” Izuku’s voice suddenly cut through the silence. “how is your grandfather? Couldn’t he have dropped by for dinner as well?”

At the mention of your grandfather, you couldn’t help your expression from souring. “Eh, let him be, he’s probably off watching reruns of those tournament matches to prepare. He wants to rough up the team to tough shape.” Despite his age, your grandfather had quite the build and was the martial arts coach at your high school (don’t ask which martial arts specifically, he knows them all).

“That’s true, he might want to challenge me at the front entrance door before dinner started.”

“And your mom would cry a planet at the devastation left between you two.”

It would be quiet the image, knowing how strong both your grandfather and Izuku was, and then Auntie Inko would be comically crying about in the background.

“Oh, and I’ll just watch because no way am I coming between you monsters, while comforting Auntie Inko.”

As the image progressed, the two of you giggled amongst yourselves, the two of you were nearing a lamppost, resting comfortably against his arm, when a presence before you made the two of you stop.

A blond teen came into view, halting at the sight of both of you. Dressed lazily in his home clothes, with a plastic bag filled with items he got from the convenience store.

Instantly, the laughter died out from you, lips set into a thin line.

“K-Kacchan…” stuttered the teen beside you, gulping at the tense air. “…g-good evening.”

Said teen could only blink, carmine eyes taking in the sight of both of you. Something glinted soon after.

Eyes narrowing, you gently tugged at Izuku’s sleeve, continuing your journey, dismissing the blond completely. The two of you walked past the blond, who slowly began to move when you did, starting a new conversation about Izuku’s homeroom teacher, anything to block off that one person who was forever dead to you.

(Blocks away, the blond stopped in his path, hands still balled into fists, glare fixed to the ground, while a gentle laugh coming from a gentle smile relayed in his head. They weren’t for him.

“Fuck.”)

Midoriya Izuku and Bakugo Katsuki were both your childhood friends.

They were both the first friends you made ever since moving into their town.

To be fair though, Bakugo was your first friend. He then introduced you to the green-haired boy a few days later.

Since then, the three of you grew close, were inseparable, and always played together. There was never a day when the three of you were not with the other, always ensuring to include the other whenever there was a new game to play, a new kid to befriend, or an adventure to go off to.

Bakugo had always been the leader of the three since he had such a strong personality and presence even at the age of 5. He was quick to protect the two of you and command whatever new stuff you were to do.

Izuku was his opposite, submissive, soft, and shy. Nonetheless, he had a very strong sense of justice, even when he seemed to cry a lot, and was recklessly impulsive.

And then there was you, the new girl – quiet, unassuming, tomboy. Sometimes, you liked to pretend to be the mom of the two boys, the big sister, the glue that kept you three together – but you and Katsuki knew that it was Izuku, really.

Regardless, you could always count on the two. Bakugo, especially.

He was the front liner to push you to do things you want to do, uncaring of the fact that you were a girl, because it was a minor detail to all the amazing things you could do – like catch a bug, run like the wind, play under the rain, climb trees, give bullies a beating when they were picking on Izuku, play video games, to name a few. (In addition, you were into martial arts, because it was in the family)

It was because you were so close to Bakugo that you picked up on cursing, much to the shock of dear Izuku’s innocent baby ears. You couldn’t help being a tomboy because of the fact that your best friends were guys and games the blond would instigate, you loved to challenge him in just about anything – especially at claiming to be Izuku’s bestest friend.

Still, whenever you fell or scraped your knee, it was Bakugo who’d lend a hand, angrily berate you on being reckless, before picking you from the ground or giving you a piggyback – Izuku would cry all the way, worried about your state and the possible scolding from your parents and grandfather.

You three were supposed to stick together, stay inseparable, always with each other.

That is until Bakugo discovered his quirk, followed by Izuku discovering that he was quirkless.

And ever since then, everything changed.

masterlist • two

#lame #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugou katsuki angst #bakugou katsuki fic #boku no hero academia #my hero academia

[therealmintedmango]

Cerberus - Part One

Summary: ...”An eerie shadowy figure looms across the way making my murderous blood run cold. It looks smaller than a bear so the thought of running into a bloodthirsty wild animal leaves my mind. It looks not like a wild boar or cat. Wait. There appears to be not just one figure looming across the meadow but two. My eyes widen. The figures don't move but they both stand like humans would upon two legs. But they are bigger… Much larger now that I squint across at these two unknown figures. My stomach drops as I feel like a low growl is produced by the looming, unwavering figures… with… glowing amber eyes?...”

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

Genre: Werewolf/ Shifter AU; Medieval AU; Strangers-To-Lovers AU; Heavy Angst; Soulmate AU; Eventual romance/ smut

Beta Read By: @justanothergirlfromeurope​ Thank you so much my darling for helping me with this! You are wonderful! Thank you! 💖

Rating: NC 18+, Explicit 

Words: 5,379 

Pairings: (Eventually) ot7 BTS x Human Female Reader 

Warnings: Dark themes; Possible Yandere Vibes in the future; Death; Gore; Murder/ Killing; Implied Incest (nothing happens - I promise); Mentions of being naked/ being seen naked; I think that’s it.

It’s late July in the afternoon, the hot sun baking boils on exposed skin if you are a brave enough soul to show any flesh. The cicadas cry, the large winged beasts screaming into the scorching air, sounding like terrible, angry monsters. My giggles cut through the loud droning of the winged beetles, pleased to my core I even let out an unladylike snort, shoulders shaking as Seungkwan tells the group of us a joke. I sit with a few of my brothers - the princes of the land in which father rules - in the shade of the maple when the laughing ceases as a shadow blocks the sun from roasting us further. The younger crowd of my brothers and I look up to see it is men from the king’s court, walking over to our shady spot in the garden, solemn features, shiny hats, and a loyalty to my father is the only thing they share. 

They say that mother has passed.

My brother Minghao gets up and asks where the older kin of boys are. The advisors tell him as he barks at us to stay here. The castle, they say. Infection, they say. Seokmin gasps, the bright smile like mother’s downturned at the news. Seungkwan’s joyful attitude dies. Vernon covers his face with his hands, a sob ripping from his throat. Youngest of my thirteen brothers, Chan, clings to me suddenly, tears welling in his large brown orbs as I hold him steadfast. 

The food sitting in my stomach feels rotten and cursed all of a sudden. All the sound dies from my ears, my mouth hangs open as the breath escapes me. 

Infection they say? How could they say such a thing? She was never ill, I think as people are running in and out of the castle, screaming and crying—something I wish I could do at this moment. I flinch, hearing my most vicious brother - Soonyoung - bellow a sound I wasn’t aware he was able to produce. 

I feel the same, but only in my heart for my lips cannot utter even a simple, single whisper. 

I was never close with mother even being the only daughter she had out of the fourteen children she created over the years with father when she was fertile - the only job a woman of nobility has in these times. And when she is finished having many children she is to still retain her youthful appearance which she did easily. 

They said that she gave her children a little piece of herself when she birthed us all. Chan has her sparkling eyes, Seokmin her smile, Junhui has her high cheekbones, Soonyoung has her unbreakable spirit, Minghao has her sharp tongue, Jeonghan has her cunning brain, Jihoon has her feisty attitude, Mingyu has her ability to be understanding and kind in the midst of her fire and passion, Seungkwan retains her strange sense of humor, Wonwoo got her cool intelligence, Vernon got her uncanny skill to be so young but so strong at the same time, Seungcheol has her unyielding stride, and Joshua her wit. And they say that I am a twin of my mother physically: her hair, her body type, her smile, eyes, her wide hips, sharp shoulders, feet, hands, legs, and even my fingernails. 

I only wish I had her spirit and fire my brothers bear, but perhaps they took it all before I was created in her belly? They say that children suck precious things out of you. Did I take everything else from her? Was my guilt eating me alive? 

My father, the king of this land, kept her locked away most of the time in the high tower of the west portion of the castle. I don’t know much about father but I know he is easily jealous. He wants the best whatever that may be: the most children, the best cloaks, the best military, the cleanest streets, the shiniest coins, the happiest peasants, the most beautiful queen in all of the land. Father hated when mother would talk to anyone that wasn’t close kin at dinner time or when we went to the market when she would merely look at the fruit seller man. She would be gone for days, no trace of her for a week or so, emerging with tired eyes, brushing the stray hairs from my face as she smiled sadly at me. Little did I know there was no fruit seller in the cobblestone market either. 

Still, my heart aches for a mother I had and hardly ever knew. 

The sound of the boisterous cicadas fills my ears, hearing returning to normal as brothers Jeonghan and Joshua come to collect us shortly after that, faces made of what looks like stone. 

-

It has been many moons since mother has passed. The air that was once ripe with colors and sounds is quieter now. It’s cool, my peacoat and shawl wrapped around me when I roam the garden in the afternoon with a different brother each day. It’s almost time for a harvest moon which comes in a week, Wonwoo told me on our walk yesterday. The demons and goblins of the underworld are said to have sprung up from the dirt and mud during these times. We sent mother away on a burning ship out to sea so I can’t help but wonder if mother is in the sky, the ground, or the sea still. 

My brother Soonyoung and I walk quietly together, the brown leaves crunching under our boots. It is a rare time when his voice is still. I know he is pondering what to say to me. 

What can one say to me? 

I love them deeply though, their touch and affection they still bring to me after each day. Sun up to sun down they coddle me. They have always coddled me, even the elder ones who are fit and strong and ready to be wed treat me as if I am a babe. I used to hate feeling like this, like I am small and unimportant, a babe who needs protecting. The only daughter the king has ever had. One of fourteen. I am no one to my father, to his people. But to my brothers now I see, I am their youngest sister. Something they only have one of. They cling tighter to me emotionally and physically now that mother is no longer here. 

I will take this feeling and hold onto it. I am important to them for that is why they treat me this way. 

The sound of horse hooves clattering up the path behind startles me. Soonyoung shields me, pulling me into his warm chest. I am comforted and protected. 

“Prince Soonyoung, Princess.” The captain speaks monotone. They do not call my name for I am a woman. Even of nobility and the pride of my brothers, I have no name besides my title.  

The captain’s lips move. I have no idea if what I heard was true. Soonyoung snarls and tells them that it's preposterous and evil and to shoo before he cuts them with his blade attached to his hip. They turn on their stallions and leave, a fog rolling into the garden as I feel hot and confused. 

Did I hear them correctly? 

They say that father wants to marry me.

They say that he will never be able to find a bride as beautiful and as perfect as my mother. They said that I will wed at sunset tomorrow. 

It is my turn to be made of stone as I fall into darkness. My breath is gone, a warm exhale hits the cool air, leaving my lips in a wisp before I pass out in my middle brother’s strong arms. 

-

When I awaken, my eldest brother, Prince Seungcheol, is heard pleading with my father in the political hall. His usually calm voice echoes against the rock of the building, the fire crackling in his basins as my thirteen brothers all object to me being my father's next bride. His brows are kit, furrowed as his lips speak my thoughts for me while father watches with mild amusement, seated at his holy throne. 

“She is not ready to be wed! She has not even bled yet!” He remarks, flinging his hands out to his sides. Little do they know, I have, I have just kept it a secret, becoming a woman is nobody's business but my own. “She is your daughter! Think, father! Think! How the kingdom will hate you for that! It is vile!” His voice cracks, tears swim in his brown eyes as my brothers shake their heads in agreement. 

Yes. How vile indeed, I think watching them all silently behind a pillar from above the hall. 

Father gets up with a wretched smile stretched upon his lips. I take a few steps forward, uncloaking myself from the secrets of the darkness in my nightgown a maid must have dressed me in, looking over the stone railing. “She is our littlest sister! Our only sister! She deserves to be married for love and only love-“

SLAP. 

I gasp as my stomach pits into itself. My brothers flinch. 

“How dare you talk like this to me, Seungcheol!” Father spits, anger flashing in his eyes like the fire in the torch basins. “She is a woman. She has no rights no matter who and what she is. She belongs to me.” 

“How dare you treat Y/N like an object and not like your daughter!” Soonyoung snarls, mothers fire lit inside of him like the hot sun. He is brilliant and strong like a tiger who burns through the forest in his powerful wake. 

Father raises his hand striking Soonyoung across his cheek with a sound that echoes in the corners of the hall. Something falls from his hands, though its clanking sound is covered up from the shouts that follow. 

“How dare you thirteen boys!” Father is shouting, my feet are moving on their own, rushing down the stairs to my brothers. “All of you are utterly worthless!” He shouts as Mingyu, the tallest brother, rage ablaze on his face as he moves toward the king, arms raised as he acts like he is about to slap father. 

Please, don’t! Is what I want to say, but I cannot. 

“Guards!” My father shouts into the hall as they come running in at his command. “Flog them all hundred lashes each!” He smiles a wicked smile as I run up to the scene with the ones carrying swords and pointed sticks. “And if they make a sound give them ten more!”

My brothers are being beaten and detained and my heart is breaking into fragile glass as the noise and blood coming from their mouths is too much to bear.

I do the only thing I can do. 

It is my turn to protect my brothers. 

Please mother, give me all your strength to stand up to this vile, evil man who surely killed you for the sport of it. My gut twists thinking of the peril I may face rising to the challenge that is our father. 

“Stop!” I say, my voice shaking as the next few seconds feel like hours and the eyes of all the men in the hall are on me. I walk toward my weathered and old looking father as he smirks a devilish grin down at me ascending the steps to his throne. 

“Father please, I beg you: I will marry you and do whatever you say, as long as you let them go now.” My voice does not shake now. My voice is calm and steady. Mother’s spirit fills me at this moment as I speak up to my father. Before this, I have not spoken to him before this for what feels like eons until now. 

“No!” Several of my brothers yell as I stand in false confidence, inhaling the iron from the red liquid that fills the hall. “No! No! No!” They shout as I stand in front of the man that doesn’t see me as a daughter. I am an object to him, whether I like it or not. 

He smiles, stroking his wiry, grey beard as he sits back on his golden chair, cloaks draped over his shoulders pool and spill over the seat behind him. 

“Whatever you say?” Father quips and I nod, hands balling into fists onto my sides, nails that are not mine dig into skin that is also not mine. “Then strip.”

My eyes grow wide, my lips part in shock, my blood which is mine boils, white-hot and merciless trapped in this skin that should belong to my mother. 

“Father, please!” Jeonghan, my father’s son and second eldest, pleads now. “Be reasonable!”

“She said anything, boys.” My father, the ugly worm that he is, states calmly. 

“Should a virgin be seen like this before she is wed?” Joshua makes a good point while father rips his pupils away from me as Jihoon, smart bugger that he is, recites the article of the kingdom where it is unlawful for a virgin to be seen in such a state before she is made another man’s woman. 

Father scoffs as he says, “Flog them two hundred times if they don’t like-“

“No.” I say, holding my ground, brushing hair out of my face. All eyes on me again as Chan starts crying. “I will do what you wish.” 

“Then do it!” Father shouts, banging his fist on the arm of the golden seat as he gets up. “Do it now and if anyone makes a noise: I will behead you.” 

I do it. I find the buttons on my yellow nightgown, my hands do not shake or waver as I shake the comfortable garment from my shoulders. My slip is the only thing that covers me now. My brothers close their eyes, look away, Chan choking on his sobs but the only thing I can hear is the roar of the crackling of fire. I step out of my nightgown, walking up to my father's throne. I see it. Glinting in the torch light. A stray blade lies upon the steps close to the devil king that is my flesh and blood. 

Praise the gods for the viscous middle brother I have. 

I step out of my white slip now, distracting the men who have their wicked eyes set upon me, hungry wolves ready to take any meat they can. I hold my father’s gaze as it travels down my body, making sure he does not look upon what my right hand is doing. 

I have it. I move quickly, the spirit of my mother now fully alive inside of the body that is said not to be mine. 

But now it’s mine. 

I am not a disrespectful child nor have I lashed out against my parents ever. I followed the rules without exception, never spoke out of turn and always let my older brothers go first for treats and presents. Always. I am a slave to my family and the system that I was born into. The ugly demons and snaggle-toothed goblins are really alive and well during this time as my brothers have said. The scent of strong ale hits my nose the closer I get. Maybe the beings of the underworld have possessed him? I am looking for a way out, a way to logically justify the way father is. But no. I know the real answer. 

This man is evil. Has always been evil. And he needs to be stopped. 

I am not a killer. But I am sick of the mistreatment of my family. I know my father killed my mother. There was no infection. None. 

Like a crazy witch with eyes burning like white-hot coals, whose blood is singeing to be set free, I plunge the pointed blade into my father’s throat. 

Blood spurts from his neck, squirting against my bare flesh, his eyes roll back as he gurgles profanity, my body blazing as my whole existence is overcome with the desire to end this cycle of corrupt injustice. 

“Run!” Vernon shouts as the guards descend in my direction. I drop the blade in haste, my brothers scream for me to run away as the guards scream mutiny. 

And I do. 

—

-Somewhere deep within the neighboring wood...-

“I’m hungry.” A clear tenor tone sounds off in the dark wood, a small chuckle leaving his lips as he resumes a human form in all his naked glory. Hoseok’s lithe body full of sweat glistens under the moonlight as he reaches for his purple cloaks under the large tree in the middle of the bog they just finished running around in. 

“Me as well, brother.” A deep bass vibrates off the trunks of the thick trees, his wolf form morphing into his handsome, tan body. 

“Taehyung, Hoseok.” A soft voice wafts through the air. “We aren’t to feast before the full moon.” The eldest quips, melting from his shiny fur, shaking his dark locks free from his collar as he dresses under the almost pregnant moon. 

“I can’t wait.” The second eldest grunts as he comes into the torch light that was burning on the stump next to their favorite tree. “The air is ripe with so much wildlife tonight.” He wets the edges of his lips, the thought of fresh, pink, juicy flesh at the forefront of his mind as well as his brothers.

“Where are Jungkook and Jimin?” Namjoon growls as he quickly morphs into his tall self, sweaty skin glistening under the light from the mother moon. Their run through the dense wood was very fruitful in the sense that they let loose and got a lot of pent up energy out of their bodies.

“Weren’t they behind you, Yoongi?” Seokjin questions as he scoops up the younger one’s clothes in his arms, signaling Taehyung and Namjoon to take the torch light. Yoongi shakes his white hair back and forth with a solemn grunt. “Very well,” Seokjin nods, twitching his nostrils in the air. “Hoseok, you have the loudest howl. Will you please call for the troublemakers?” 

The man with the hair as bright as cherry pie chuckles right before he sucks in a large breath. The third eldest bellows a howl that will be heard throughout the wood surely. 

They wait with bated breath for two of the younger brothers to respond. The wind whips around them carrying the smell of fallen, rotting leaves, thick moisture in the atmosphere, and the odor of something unfamiliar in the air. They all exchange looks in the torches' soft, orange glow. Something doesn’t feel right. 

The five brothers start to become uneasy. Taehyung shifts on his feet. Yoongi wets the edges of his lips more. Namjoon shifts his eyes between his brothers, swallowing uncomfortably. Hoseok frowns, kicking a few leaves in the dirt as he waits for the brothers to return his call. 

After another moment or two, the second eldest bristles, anger flashing in his amber orbs. “I swear if those wild banshees from the Twicelands have set another trap for us in our forest-“

The white-haired brother is cut off by the sudden cry of both of his brothers they were in search of, coming east off the dense bog.

“Come quickly!” Jimin yelps, his higher pitch ringing around the wood. “Come see brothers!” 

Meanwhile, Jungkook only utters one word that has the brothers taking off like bats out of the deep trenches of hell. “Mate!”

—

My skin is on fire, my fingertips numb, and my feet hurt as I run naked from the castle into the blackness of the night. 

I escaped through the kitchens, not a sane soul awake at this hour so I quietly slipped through the cracks. I hear more yelling and shouting but I cannot slow down. The blood of my father drips down my naked body, making me feel like a painted warrior. 

A shout is heard from the stable. The men on my father’s court call my name but it is not a happy sound. It is a sound of lies, of deceit, of pain they want to inflict upon me. I shudder when I hear Soonyoung scream a throaty battle cry into the evening air, on his way to find these men and rip them limb from limb surely. 

Under the almost full, pregnant moon, a blood bath is occurring in the usually peaceful castle.

I trip on an exposed root from a tree beyond the stables. When I gather myself, pushing up off the ground, I see a bed sheet hanging from a line out to dry and I snatch it from the air. I tie it, tugging it around myself loosely, giving my legs room to carry me off into the thick wood that lines the backside of the castle. 

Dread and fear taint my senses as I pad along the brush barefoot, trying to maintain a quietness even though I am running. The fallen leaves crunch underfoot, the earth cold. My naked body starts to shiver, the adrenaline of my actions wilting away as I fly through branches and bushes. I have no clue where I am headed, the pale moonlight guiding me. Wherever I see on my path I go next. 

My feet slip on the slick ground under my feet. I trip over my heel several times, mud and dirt covering my palms as I right myself. I must not look like a princess, so disgusting, covered in blood and unkept in this feeble, white bed sheet. 

I have to press on, I remind myself.

My breathing is ragged as I climb through long, pointed branches and under low shrubs. I stop for a second to catch my breath as I glance at the almost completely blackened forest. The nightlife of the dark wood whispering around me: bats screeching overhead, crickets that haven’t died out sing into the cold night air, even a pack of wolves howl out into the throes of the velvet evening. 

I suck in a cool gust of air, ready to trek along the unknown path once more. 

Wisps of my breath leave my lips as the cold night air stings my lungs. It feels as though I have been running for ages, the torch light not visible through the thickness of the tall trees. Have I run far enough? I think as I come to a little clearing in the wood, a meadow of soft, lush clover encompasses the land. 

An eerie shadowy figure looms across the way making my murderous blood run cold. It looks smaller than a bear so the thought of running into a bloodthirsty wild animal leaves my mind. It looks not like a wild boar or cat. Wait. There appears to be not just one figure looming across the meadow but two. My eyes widen. The figures don't move but they both stand like humans would upon two legs. But they are bigger… Much larger now that I squint across at these two unknown figures. My stomach drops as I feel like a low growl is produced by the looming, unwavering figures… with… glowing amber eyes?

 A wind whips through the meadow quickly, breezing from behind me, whipping my hair and the bedsheet about like a flag on a pike. 

I hear the sound of horses and I gasp, covering my mouth with the noise I just made. I shake my head, snapping out of my trance of looking to the almost human like figures. 

Have they found me? Have the guards and the men of my father’s court located me? My brothers were surely fighting, right? I pray none of my kin have lost their lives because of me. Or are they not men from my father’s castle? Would they hurt me? Torture me? Deflower me?

I shudder. 

I turn to run east, looking over my shoulder to the figures that have disappeared in the trees. A fog sweeping through the thicket, blocking my vision. It was probably a trick of my scared mind, I remind myself. 

Another thought chills me to the bone as I feel the exposed skin of my legs and arms slice under the thorn bush I accidentally stumble into, making more noise than necessary. I squeak in pain. The more I try and pry myself of the spikes, the more I become entangled inside of the nasty, winding plant. I want to call for help but I don’t want to alert whatever is coming near me. 

It is almost the harvest moon. The line between realms is blurred meaning creatures that normally I think exist in fairy tales are real at this time of year. Could it be a wandering herd of ghouls? A pack of wild demons coming to devour my flesh clean off my bone? My body shakes with uncertainty as I paw about the dirt. 

Ever since I was a little girl, my brothers have warned me about the wood. I should never go in alone. I should always bring someone. I should always have a weapon or a horse or something to protect me. Monsters are said to lurk in the bog that the wood surrounds in a thick sea of lush brush and vegetation. 

An owl hoots overhead as the sound grows thicker, heavier. The footfalls inching closer and closer by the second. The wolf’s howl sounds off again, this time the cries from the beast desperate - the noise much too close for comfort. 

No, I think as I freeze with a bone-chilling noise that vibrates off the trees around me. Not just one lone wolf howl. There are two very distinct animal noises that echo off the earth I lie bound to. One softer and longer. The other a little nasally and short - more like a bark than a howl. 

I should have run to the market, I think, body shaking from the cold and acute fear that plagues my mind. I should have tried to hide with a peasant or two until this treacherous act blew over or married a nobleman’s family in a neighboring town. Mentally I chastise myself as the thunderous noise draws closer and closer. Why am I so rash?

My heart hurts, it clenches in around itself as I look up into the shimmering moon hanging low in the sky. In a bed of thorns I lie, blood from wounds of my own and from my father still flows down my body, exhaustion overtakes me finally. I’m entangled, suffocating in the sharp spikes that pierce my body, choking me from the freedom I so desire. I can’t move my muscles, my body tense and sore, my feet blistered and cold. I’m weary. A tear rolls out of my eye and falls onto my dirty cheek as I snap my orbs tightly closed, the horses almost upon me, I think as I hiccup a sob. 

All of a sudden, the boisterous noise of what sounded like a hundred horses pounding toward me, stops. I suck in a breath and prepare for the worst. An eye for an eye, right? So they should slit my throat like I did to father.

It is my turn to die. 

“Little bird,” a soft, steady tenor of a voice purrs out above me that I don’t recognize. My eyes fly open, revealing a glowing torch light and a few handsome faces I cannot place hanging around me. “It seems you’ve flown far from your nest.” He simpers, flames dancing off his puffy lips as he gently brushes a stray hair away from my unkempt face. He shows no disgust, only empathy as he gazes upon me trapped in this tangle of wild thicket. 

I flinch as the long thorn branches I have ensnared myself in are being removed from my shivering body. The other boys, I’m unsure of how many surround me, take extreme caution, trying not to harm me as they pull the plants off of me. 

“Are you from Royaume des Diamants (Kingdom of Diamonds)?” His puffy, pink lips utter quietly in the night. I stare at his sculpted face, admiring his accent as I feel like the terrors of the darkness are melting away with his soft speech. I say nothing but look up into the rich eyes that seem to glow a golden-amber shade in the torch light. They bewitch me and I am in awe. “Little bird?” His perfect brows twist into an expression of concern and I take a moment to glance away from his otherworldly face and to his other features for a second. 

Dressed in rich purple with gold medals hanging from his broad shoulders, I can tell he was from a family of prestige. His lips are giant and lush but they are not out of place on his pale face. He appears to be a prince from those fairy tales I’ve heard so much about from the stories my brothers have told me since I was a babe. His dark hair envelopes his face, curling just at the ends, making him look far younger than I am sure he is. They finish uncovering me from the thorns and all gaze upon me covered in blood, dirt, sweat - looking positively disheveled - the farthest thing from a princess. 

“Hyung,” a deep bass speaks from behind the broad shouldered noble-man, “she’s shivering.” A tan boy with thick eyebrows observes above me. His velvety voice makes my cold body feel warm with the way his timbre seems to echo off the wood of the trees around me. 

“I know you are probably frightened and it looks like you have been through a lot…” The prince-like man holds an arm out for me to take. “...and even though your lips don’t speak, I do not wish for you to freeze out here in the wood.” The boys surrounding me shake their heads in agreement with the handsome one speaking. “Will you come with us, little bird?” 

I don’t want to die and I don’t want to die out here in the cold night. Even if they want to hurt me or worse, I don’t want to die frozen to death in the thicket. Somehow, I don’t think they are bad men, but my threshold of trust was high due to the internal struggle I faced with my family. Still, I feel oddly comforted by the seven who are mostly quiet above me. 

As I go to speak - to tell them ‘yes’, opening my lips slowly, nothing comes out. Not a peep or a squeak I can utter. The boys share looks of confusion at my lack of acknowledgment. My orbs flit from one handsome face to the next. Are they all princes wearing the same cloaks of purple and gold? I register you all, I swear I think in my mess of a mind. My body is too exhausted, not being able to do anything but nod once. 

That’s all they needed to collect me it seems.

“Come, little bird.” The soft voice purrs again as I am being propped up gingerly, carefully by one of the boys around me. I lull my head against his warm body, a blanket or a cloak (I haven’t a clue which) was placed upon my dirty body. This boy is strong, not struggling to hold me up in the slightest I think as my eyelids flutter. I look up to him. He has long, black-as-night curly hair that falls around his neck, smiling tenderly down at me, his nose is long and rounded at the tip, a little mole under his lip catching my eyes that flutter more and more with every breath I take. Sleep was overtaking my body now that I know I am safe. “We will take you to a place where you will not suffer any longer.” 

And with that affirmation, I nestle closer in the arms of the strong, young boy, believing the prince-like voice that hums a sweet lullaby. I yawn while he continues stroking my matted, tangled hair as I fall fast asleep against this stranger's chest.

I miss the seven smiles and nods, drinking me in with their sparkling amber gazes.

---------

PART TWO 

#bts #bts fanfiction #bts werewolves #bts werewolf #ot7 bts x reader #ot7 bts #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #jin #rm #min yoongi #yoongi #seokjin #namjoon #suga #jung hoseok #hoseok #jhope #park jimin #jimin #kim taehyung #taehyung #v #jeon jungkook #jungkook #cerberus #mintedmango #therealmintedmango

[bonjour-rainycity]

Double Heart | Chapter Eighteen ~ Cosima

|previous part|

Pairing: Haldir x OFC

Rating: PG-13

Word count: 4719

Warnings: None

A/n Happy Monday! Oh, and if you like Bucky Barnes, I just posted a one-shot for him! You can find it here. Now, on to the story you came here for!

Late in August, three months after arriving in this new world, plans are made to travel to Lothlórien.

Lavandil’s tearful sniffles in the back of her shop clued me in before someone had officially told me, and my heart goes out to her.

“It gets harder every time,” she had muttered, staring at the ground. “Every time we are separated, a piece of me goes with him.”

Her words have not left my mind since.

They are not even bonded, yet the way not being with him pains her…it breaks my heart in a way that is almost too personal.

Our company is set to leave in five days. In my time here, I have amassed only a small number of belongings, so packing will be easy. I am prepared to go long before the others, who have somehow become busier in these last few days. Even Rumil, who has basically become my best friend these past few months, declines my offer to go riding, citing that he and his brothers have much to do in their remaining time here.

So, with no one to help me occupy my time, I end up in the gardens. I pass the afternoon away wandering through the endless labyrinth, discovering more blossoms that make me sneeze and some that don’t. I pick a few — Elrond said it was alright — to press in one of the journals I’ve acquired — a gift from Lavandil. The journal and the flowers will be keepsakes, tangible memories of my time here in Imladris.

A time I desperately do not want to forget.

In the back of my mind, lurking on the edge of my thoughts is a constant fear — the fear that, at any moment, the work with Elrond will prove fruitful and my memories will come rushing back — at the cost of my memories from my time here in Arda.

A bright, bluish-purple burst under the hedges distracts me from that anxious thought.

A cornflower, fallen to the ground and blown far from its bush by the wind.

I crouch, reaching under the green shrubbery.

“Lady Cosima?”

Flower in hand, I straighten, turning at the sound of the voice.

“Glorfindel!” I’m mildly shocked. Since his argument with Haldir, I’ve seen little of him. Seeming uncertain, he walks to meet me, bowing when he plants his feet.

I curtsey, though I can’t help but chuckle lightly at his formality. “You can just call me Cosima,  you know. I’m not anyone important.”

Glorfindel shakes his head slowly, the edges of a smile playing at his lips. “I would be inclined to disagree with your statement, my dear Lady. It seems you have not only captured the attention of two worlds, but of my elven friends.” Before I can ask exactly what he means by that, Glorfindel furrows his eyebrows, gesturing to our surroundings. “I am surprised to find you here this evening. I would have thought you would be preparing for your departure.”

I twirl the cornflower between my fingers. “There’s nothing much for me to prepare. And it doesn’t seem I can be of much help to the others, either.”

A twinkle enters his eye, reminiscent of the playfulness he had the last time I interacted with him. “So you are trying to soak up all that Lord Elrond’s gardens have to offer?”

I smile, taking a look around. “It’s not a bad way to pass the time. I don’t know if Lothlórien will have all these flowers, so I’m taking a couple with me.” Unnecessarily, I hold up the growing bouquet in my hands. “But enough about me, why are you here at this time of day? Don’t you have a million things to do?”

Glorfindel grins, now fully the man I met upon first arriving here. “Ah, you’ve caught me. I am shirking my duties, but!” He holds up a hand to stop my nonexistent chiding. “I will pay for it tonight. Your Marchwarden and I have plans after dinner to surprise one of the border stations. We are going to creep through the area unannounced and see how long it takes for them to discover us. Surely we will be gone until morning.”

I gulp. My Marchwarden? I try to cover up how much that phrase affects me. “So, are you two back to being friends? Or are you still at odds?”

Thankfully, Glorfindel doesn’t get upset by the words I spoke without thought. “Yes, yes, we have been reconciled for weeks now. It is not uncommon for such strong personalities to disagree. All is well — I would have thought he told you.”

I shrug, trying to make the motion look natural even though I suddenly feel like every eye in Imladris is scrutinizing the movement. “We haven’t had the chance to talk much.”

Glorfindel smirks. “Ah, yes, I wondered why my friend had been even more stern than usual as of late.”

I freeze, and the question escapes my mouth before I can stop it. “What do you mean?”

No, Cosima, I chide. Do not engage!

But Glorfindel has already broadened his grin, evidently happy to indulge my pointless question. “He’s increased drills and border patrols, added requirements for promotions, re-worked the training schedule at least five times — he’s even taken his frustrations out on the guard — I worry more when they fight him than if they were facing a pack of orcs!” He laughs, but, after a moment, his expression softens into one of understanding. “Did something happen between the two of you?”

My eyes drop to the flowers in my hand. I twirl the cornflower again, scrutinizing its color.

It is the wrong shade of blue.

“No, nothing happened,” I respond, still not able to meet Glorfindel’s gaze. His questions and the lack of judgement in his voice lead me to share more than I should. “I…I think we both realized we were headed for something dangerous and it’s better to stop while we can.”

“I see,” he mutters, taking in a deep breath. “I am sorry.”

“Don’t be.” I force a smile, not wanting to dwell on something that already keeps me up at night. Time to change the subject. “I don’t know about you, but I’m quite hungry. Would you like to join me for dinner? Lavandil and Orophin will be there as well.”

His face breaks into an easy smile, though there’s something off in his eyes. He sweeps his hand forward, indicating his agreement. “Lead the way, my dear Lady.”

{***}

I stare at the clothes laid out on my bed, relying on the meager candlelight to tell me what each item of fabric is.

Lord Elrond said I was welcome to take home any of the pieces I wanted, but the space in my bag will only allow for a few of them. Turns out, the choice is harder than I thought it would be. I have no desire to wear the same outfit the whole time like I had to on the journey to Imladris. That means I should pack more tunic and legging sets. But there are so many pretty gowns I want to take — it doesn’t help that, as part of the payment for helping in her store, Lavandil took me shopping a couple of times. I look over my dresses, all equally loved.

I purse my lips. I know Rumil has three bags…perhaps he would be willing to donate one of them to a good cause. Lavandil hasn’t taken him shopping, so surely he has room to spare.

I creep out of my room, mindful to keep quiet at this late hour. Rumil’s likely to be awake — that ellon is a night owl if I’ve ever met one. I reach his door and knock softly.

But when the door opens, it’s not Rumil on the other side.

It’s Haldir.

I stop breathing. His eyebrows shoot to his hairline.

He steps back somewhat robotically, making space for me to enter the room. “Cosima.”

I freeze, unable to connect my brain to my feet to tell them to move. I blurt out the first thing that comes to mind. “You’re supposed to be gone.”

Haldir opens and closes his mouth, likely figuring out how to respond to something that sounded very much like an accusation. “I—ah, I apologize? Do you want me to—”

“No, I uh—” I look to the ground, trying to gather my hopelessly scattered thoughts. Being near him again takes me right back to the state I’ve tried desperately to avoid. “Sorry, no, I only meant that I ran into Glorfindel a few hours ago and he said the two of you would be gone tonight. I came looking for Rumil.”

“Oh.” Haldir furrows his eyebrows, though it looks like the initial shock has faded. “I am sorry — I sent him out tonight in my place. I planned on using this time to write out instructions for training after I am gone.”

I can’t keep myself from smiling. So dutiful. “That’s nice of you.”

Haldir shrugs, looking thrown by the compliment. “It’s my job.”

I blink, realizing that, both mercifully and sadly, I no longer have an excuse to stay here. I should go.

“Well, I’ll leave you to it.” I take a step back.

“Cosima, wait.”

I halt my exit, but remind myself of my resolve.

Haldir shifts on his feet before rolling back his shoulders, holding the door open with one hand. “I need a break from writing. Would you like to go for a walk?”

Your resolve, Cosima.

I search for any excuse, anything to give me a reason to say no when I so badly want to say yes. “I don’t have my cloak.”

The edges of Haldir’s lips twitch. “Now that, I may have a solution for. Wait here.”

I should go.

Just wait to see what this ‘solution’ is, I rationalize.

Haldir turns and nearly jogs to the wardrobe, burying his upper half inside until he emerges with a sage green bundle. He returns, presenting the neatly folded fabric to me. “This is for you.”

I blink in surprise, taking the bundle from his outstretched hand. Slowly, I unfurl it, and it falls into a sturdy, finely woven cloak. I look up at Haldir and then back to the garment, unsure of why he’s just handed me this, but nonetheless, pleased.

“You cannot wear your red one while we travel,” he explains. “This will blend in much better with our surroundings. Lavandil advised on the measurements, but if it’s too long, there’s still time to get it hemmed before we leave.”

I smile, running my fingers over the soft interior and the slicker outside. “What’s it made of?”

“Wool, but I asked the seamstress to assist in making it as waterproof as possible.” I look up at him sharply, surprised that he would think to include this. “I worry we will encounter rain again and I would hate to have you shivering like last time.”

I run my fingers over the fabric with a new fondness. I’m grateful and more touched than I would like to admit. “Thank you Haldir, really. This is so thoughtful. And practical.” I can’t help but laugh, looking up at him with a sudden onslaught of nerves. “Just like you.”

He smiles almost bashfully, dipping his head in acknowledgement of my words. “I’m glad you like it.”

I swing the cloak around my shoulders, pulling my hair through the back so it lays against the outside of the fabric. Haldir grabs the bag that rests on the hook by the door and retrieves another one of those beautiful leaf-shaped clips. He steps forward and slowly reaches his hands to where my cloak rests along my collarbones. He gathers the fabric and weaves it through the clip, securing the ends. He rests his hands there for just a moment and then steps back, nodding to himself.

“Perfect,” he breathes.

I blink. I have a cloak now. There’s no reason to say no. “Let’s go for that walk.”

Smiling in a soft, hesitant way, he grabs his own cloak and clip from their place near the door and we step outside of his room. In silence, mindful of the late hour, he leads me down a spiral staircase tucked into a corner I’ve never noticed before. As we descend, the sound of water crashing gets louder and the peace of the estate fades.

I halt and, a few stairs below me, Haldir stops too.

“Are we going below the city?”

He looks up at me — I can barely see his face in the dark. “It is perfectly safe — there are no heights to be conscious of.”

It feels wrong to make sound in the darkness, so when I speak, it’s barely more than a whisper. “Okay. I believe you.”

In the dim light, Haldir’s hand reaches up to me. I stare at it, feeling my jaw fall slightly.

“I think you will like where we’re going.” The darkness, the sound of his voice, just being with him after so much time apart — it’s too much.

I exhale a shallow breath.

I place my hand in his.

Tingles shoot up my arm.

We reach the bottom of the staircase, and he doesn’t let go.

It’s dark here, too, and I find myself drawing nearer to him. My arm brushes his and I suck in a breath, both of us laughing nervously. Haldir seems to know the way. His path is confident and sure as he leads us underneath the stone and earth of the city. Then, in a burst of clear blue light, we break from the darkness and arrive on soft grass.

I can see Haldir better now. Everything about him seems to almost glow in the moonlight. He smiles softly, tugging on my hand to encourage me to follow him closer to the water that lies ahead of us. I glance between us to where our hands meet, wrapped around each other.

It feels natural. It feels right.

I should let go.

I grip his hand tighter.

The stone holding up the city gives way to taller grass and trees whose low, swinging branches brush over us as we pass. Ahead lies a rippling lake — across it, waterfalls crash down, their thunderous roar diminished by the distance. Haldir takes us almost to the edge of the shore, then surprises me by pulling me to the left. We duck under a particularly low branch, Haldir almost having to double over completely. I laugh, bending down next to him, and he looks up at me with a carefree grin. We pass under the branch and emerge in a small clearing — an alcove, really. Behind us and to our left are tall, leafy trees, to our right is the stone of the mountain, and ahead, surely for miles and miles, lies the lake. Moonlight dances atop it, glinting in a way that makes it sparkle. And above it, in an endless stretch of sky—stars, a million of them, at least.

Haldir turns to face me.

I suck in a breath.

His eyes — I’ve always admired them, even when they held nothing more than indifference to me — seem to shine in a way I’ve never seen before. They gleam like living starlight, depthless and enchanting. The colors of the night drape him in a glow of soft blue, highlighting the strong edges of his jaw. He looks powerful, beautiful, otherworldly.

This is the first time I’ve truly understood the etherial beauty of an elf.

He smiles down at me expectantly. “Was I right?”

I exhale somewhat shakily, nodding my head. “Yes. Yes, you were right. This place is stunning.”

His smile broadens and he releases my hand to unclasp his cloak.

I miss the warmth of his hand encasing mine.

But I do get my wish from earlier today. Just as he did all those months ago, he lays his cloak on the ground, gesturing for me to sit. I do, folding my legs to the side to allow him room next to me. Before he can say anything, the nerves get the best of me, and I blurt out the first, most basic question that comes to mind. “How was your day?”

He smiles, stretching his legs out on the cloak. “My day went well, thank you. Glorfindel and I spent this morning debating the merits of extending Elrond’s borders by twenty or so miles — it would mean the guards have more land to protect, yes, but it would also provide a larger distance for any intruders to cross, should they break through the barrier. That could give the guard precious extra time to organize and combat the threat.”

I tilt my head. “So what did you decide?”

Haldir raises his shoulders then lets them fall, the action hinting at underlying stress. “It is not our decision, we were merely debating. The choice lies with Lord Elrond, and I cannot say what he will do.”

I chuckle, fighting the urge to roll my eyes. “You’re always steps ahead of everyone else. Come on, what do you think he’ll do?”

He sighs. “I think he will not expand the borders. Elrond cares about the security of his people, yes, but he still believes there is potential to stop this evil before his people will have to confront it.”

Tension gathers in the small of my back. Are we really that close to a fight? “And you disagree?”

“I did not mean to scare you.” He avoids answering my question directly.

I shake my head slowly, thinking over his words. Wary, yes, but scared? “I have gotten tougher, you know.”

Haldir smiles and lets out a soft laugh. "Now, that, I would have to agree with." He rolls his sleeve up to his bicep and holds out his arm. I squint in the moonlight, trying to make out whatever he's attempting to show me. "See this?" I shake my head, and Haldir laughs more freely now. "It is almost a bruise from where you hit me two days ago."

Now, I join him in his laughter, remembering my attempt to break free from his grasp during training. “You better watch out," I joke. "Soon I'll be able to put you on the ground."

Haldir schools his laughter but the edges of his lips stay quirked. "I'm sure."

I snort. “No, I actually believe that someday soon I’ll be able to beat you. Or, at the very least, catch you off your guard.”

I don’t actually believe that, of course, but it’s worth the exaggeration to see Haldir’s terrible attempt at pretending to agree with me.

“Ah, perhaps, yes. I would not entirely rule the possibility out.”  

“Liar.” I roll my eyes and grin good-naturedly.

He merely holds my gaze with a smile of his own and raises an eyebrow.

I shudder out a breath. I wish he wouldn’t look at me that way. It makes me want things I absolutely can’t act on.

I force my eyes to return to the water, searching for a way to expel the tension that has somehow gathered in the air. “What made you want to come here?”

He shrugs, leaning back on one hand in a way that is almost arrestingly casual, because I do not feel casual. “It’s peaceful, it’s away from the bustle of the city…and it reminds me of home.” He smiles, craning his head back to view the moon and the stars. My eyes follow the length of his neck before correcting themselves to also look at the stars. “In Caras Galadon we live in talans built high in the branches. Common spaces and guest lodgings take up entire trees, wrapping around trunks and connecting with bridges. But my home is smaller, and all the way at the top of one of the oldest and tallest trees in the city…I can look up and I see the stars. It’s like I walk among them, I am so close. And here, though we are quite low on the ground…” His eyes drop to mine. I listen intently, captivated by the love he feels for his home so clearly expressed in his voice. “This feels somehow similar, like it is just you, me, the forest, and the sky.”

The words, ill-thought and reckless, rush from my mouth. “I like it being just us.”

His head dips closer to mine. “Me too.”

Our noses brush against each other. We are so close, so close to losing ourselves in something we cannot control.

I will bring nothing but pain to him.

I pull back just enough to see his eyes, hating the spark of hurt that runs through them. But I ground myself in that, use it as a warning of what is to come if I don’t stop this now.

But stopping hurts me, too. Because I want him. I want to be with him, to be his forever, more than anything I’ve ever wanted in my entire life. Memories or not, this, I’m sure of.

And I can’t have it.

Tears prick at my eyes.

Haldir’s hurt turns to concern and he trails a finger tenderly over my cheek, soothing and catching a tear that has managed to fall. “What’s wrong?”

I swallow, trying to force away the painful lump that has grown there. I can manage little more than a whisper. “You don’t want to do this with me.”

He shakes his head and brings a hand to my lower back. He presses gently, keeping me in place as if he knows I’m trying to find a way out, to talk us both out of doing this. He lowers his head to look directly into my eyes. “Yes, I do.”

I turn my gaze to the waterfall, not able to bear looking him in the eye. “Haldir, I’m temporary. To your lifespan, I…I’m nothing. Don’t waste your love on me.” And something I can’t say, something I’m too weak to admit out loud — don’t waste your life on me.

He brings a hand to my chin, pulling me to meet his eyes. What I see there takes me aback — a fierceness akin to how he looked during the attack. “It’s not a waste, it’s a choice. And I’ve chosen, Cosima. I want this, I want you.”

I shake my head, the tears falling freely now. I bring a hand to grip his wrist, trying to break his hold of my face. He follows my request but immediately takes both of my hands in his, refusing to let me go completely.

He speaks in a low, urgent voice. “Cosima, believe me, I tried. I’ve stayed away from you, I’ve tried to convince myself that there are others, that there could ever be someone else for me. I’ve distracted myself with training and planning and patrols but nothing works. Every day, I wake up and I ache for you.”

I close my eyes, all at once elated to hear those words and grieving his choice. Because loving him is the most selfish thing I’ll ever do.

“I wish I didn’t want this,” he continues. “I know what it means for me. Every instinct for self-preservation is screaming at me to stop, to run away, to fight this—”

“Then do,” I beg, trying to convince both him and myself. “Save yourself while you still can.”

Slowly, deliberately, he pulls his hands from mine and rests them on either side of my neck, thumbs brushing over my cheekbones. Despite my efforts, I suck in a breath, my heart beginning to race.

He’s so close, so honest, so…loving. He looks at me with the same reverence he reserves for the stars. He lets out a breath, eyes trailing down my face before meeting mine once more. “It is too late,” he murmurs, lips parting slightly. “I’ve fallen in love with you.”

And my resolve breaks.

I push myself forward to close the minuscule space between us, pressing my lips against his. He responds immediately, kissing me with a passion that sends tingles down my spine. His hold on me feels like fire, starting where his hands caress my neck, where his lips meet mine, and running through my entire body. My hands gather in the fabric of his tunic, pulling him impossibly closer. My mind fights between short-circuiting due to the feel of his lips on mine and shouting for joy. Never in my life have I felt so right, so secure, so…electric. Gone are the days of holding myself back, of distancing myself, torturing myself, staying away from the one I truly want to be with.

The one I love.

My back makes contact with the cloak covering the ground. Did I fall and pull him along, or did he push me? All efforts of solving that mystery disappear the moment he takes my lower lip between his teeth, biting down gently. I gasp, my grip on his tunic tightening. The hand that rests on the ground near my side, supporting his weight, curls into a fist.

His kisses slow.

He presses his lips to mine again, this time, as gentle as a breeze. I sigh into the kiss, my hand trailing slowly down his chest. For the first time in all my memory, I know that I am exactly where I am supposed to be.

And I am with who I am meant to be with.

Haldir’s lips leave mine. He balances his weight on one arm and his knees, bringing his free hand to my face to softly brush his fingers over my cheek. Slowly, I open my eyes.

Above me is perhaps the best and most beautiful sight I will ever see. A blanket of stars, brilliant and expansive, floats across the night sky. And in front of them, mere inches from my face, is Haldir, looking at me with a wide, adoring smile. I raise my head to bump my nose against his, earning myself a rumbling chuckle.

He shakes his head slowly. “The relief I feel, finally being able to tell you that I love you, to kiss you…”

I breathe out a weak laugh, knowing exactly what he’s describing. “I wouldn’t call what I feel relief.”

He grins and dips his head to mine, stopping just before our lips touch. “Yes, it is certainly not a peaceful relief. But I much prefer whatever this is to peace.”

“I agree,” I sigh into his mouth as his lips move against mine once more. But then I remember something, and push against his shoulders. He’s said his piece, now I get to say mine. “Hey, for the record, I love you too.”

He laughs indulgently, shaking his head, but I can see real joy lighting his eyes. “And yet you kept me in such suspense.”

I roll my eyes and grip his tunic, pulling him down again.

When we break apart, he falls onto his back next to me. I’m struck once again with the memory of us stargazing in Elrond’s gardens so many months ago. Then, I spent the whole night fighting the urge to cuddle against his side.

Now, it seems, that door is not closed to me.

Experimentally, I scoot closer to him. When he smiles rather than questions it, I pick up the arm nearest to me, moving it so I can lay against his side. He tenses, then sputters out a laugh, but doesn’t push me away. Instead, he cranes his head so he can see me and I grin up at him, happy to see that he wears a matching expression.

He raises an eyebrow. “Is this what the humans do?”

“Yes,” I smile up at him, pleased that being this close to him feels even better than I could have imagined. “It’s called cuddling.” I rest my head on his chest. In the silence of the night, I can hear the steady, reassuring beat of his heart.

After a moment, his hand comes to the back of my head, running his fingers gently over my hair and down my back. “Surprisingly, I like the human way.”

I smile, tucking my head further into his chest.

I stare at the sky.

And try not to think about what I’ve just done.

A/n YAYYYYYYYYY 

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[fangirlwriting-stories]

These Unprecedented Times

Summary: Thomas was currently spending most of his days stewing in his empty house in the middle of the nightmare that is 2020 and wishing he had someone to talk to.  Apparently, his brain listened to him though, or he's just finally lost it, because suddenly standing across the room is someone that looks like a half-snake version of him.

Or, In Which Thomas Is So Bad At Taking Care of Himself That He Accidentally Summons His Self-Preservation.

AO3 Link

Chapter One: Self-Interest

Thomas was running pretty dry on video ideas, and he had no idea why.  It was like all his motivation for creating had been sapping away as lockdown continued.  It was frustrating to no end, and he couldn’t seem to muster up the will to even try and fix the problem.  And with a lack of ideas in that regard, he was stuck thinking about everything that was going on, all of the disease and the death and the nightmares that this year had been bringing.  He tried to stay as up to date as possible in case something new had happened, but with that and all the thoughts already invading his head from information he already knew, he just grew more and more anxious about the world’s situation until he forced himself off of social media and tried to do something relaxing.  Unfortunately, that usually only lasted about half an hour before he started feeling guilty about not being up to date and even trying to enjoy himself with everything that was going on.

He texted and facetimed with his friends as often as he could, but most of the time he was alone, and stewing in everything by himself wasn’t that great either.  The only real person-to-person contact he got was when he went out walking, and learned to understand why dogs got so excited when they saw each other.

But he was fine!  He was lucky.  He wasn’t an essential worker, after all, and he didn’t have to risk his life to make a paycheck.  He should be grateful that he got to stay home, relatively safe, and all he had to do to have the money for groceries was to come up with ideas for videos, which he should be able to do with no problem.  He was fine.  He just needed to push through whatever this funk was and come up with an idea.

Thomas tapped his pencil against the blank notebook page and tried to force himself not to groan.

If only there was someone he could talk to.

“Thomas!”

Thomas yelped and spun towards the voice.  He was met with a bizarre half-snake man that looked remarkably like him.  Before Thomas could process the seven shades of what the fuck that was happening, the half-snake man marched across the room and yanked him up by the color.

“Thomas, you son of a— I can’t let this go on anymore,” the snake-man snapped, shaking Thomas back and forth, which Thomas didn’t really appreciate all that much.  “Do you know what I am?”

“Uh, I mean at this point I’d rather like to—” Thomas started.

“I am exhausted!  All of your efforts to convince yourself that you’re okay while there is goddamn global trauma going on are cutting into my self care time!  You’ve made me get sick of you lying to yourself.  Me!  So look me in the eyes, Sanders.  You. Are. Not. Okay.  Admit it.”

“What— I don’t— oh god.”  Thomas pushed the snake-man off and started scrambling backwards.  “Am I hallucinating?  Have I lost it?  Oh my god, what do I—”

“You’re not hallucinating,” said the snake-man.  Thomas looked back up at him to see him looking calmer and maybe just a bit sheepish.  “I probably should have done that a different way, but I don’t know how else I’m supposed to get through to you at this point—”  He sighed.  “I am a product of your mind and personality.  Though I suppose I do lack a physical form.”

“That… that just raises more questions…” Thomas said weakly.

“Absolutely none of which are important to address right now compared to what you are doing to yourself, Thomas.”

“How would you even know—”

The snake-man sighed.  “Look, I’m a… Side, of you, if you will.  Specifically, the Side meant to look out for your own interests.  Your bank account, your reputation, your self-esteem.  But instead of all of that, what I’ve been spending 24 freaking 7 doing lately is trying to tell you that everything is fine when we’re in the middle of a fucking pandemic with a president who barely acknowledges it’s a problem, which means I have to spend hours every day trying to get your Anxiety to not have a panic attack, and even that is barely working at this point!”

Thomas swallowed, trying to process all of that.  The… Side in front of him seemed to be more than willing to give him a moment to do so.  But even at the end of that, all that came out of Thomas’ mouth was, “…oh.”

The Side buried his head in his hands and gave a slightly hysterical laugh.  “‘Oh,’ he says,” he mumbled to himself.

“Wait,” Thomas said as an idea came to him.  “What do you mean, getting my Anxiety to not have a panic attack?  Don’t you mean give me a—”

“I said what I said, Sanders,” the Side said, shifting and crossing his arms.  “You think your fight or flight reflex is doing any better than I am right now?  I’m sure he’d be delighted to hear that you think so after running himself ragged trying to keep you up with the constantly changing safety measures.”

“My fight or flight?  Wait, is he that or my—”

“His role is to keep you safe,” the Side cut him off.  “Meaning he’s the part of you in charge of that particular set of responses.  His current title is Anxiety, and I think you can take a few guesses as to why.”

“His… title?  I’m sorry, this is a lot to process,” Thomas said, leaning back on the couch and rubbing at his temple.

The Side’s gaze softened.  “I’m sorry, Thomas,” he said gently.  “I don’t mean to be so intense right off the bat.  To be honest, I’m rather stressed, and I… did not expect this to happen.  Being able to speak to you was not something I ever considered would be possible.”

“Yeah, I think I’m with you there,” Thomas said, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees.  “I never expected to talk to a part of my personality face to face.  Are you sure I’m not hallucinating?”

“You’re not,” the Side said, looking amused.  “I believe I was summoned here because you needed me.”

“I just wanted someone to talk to,” Thomas muttered.

“That’s completely understandable,” the Side said.  He moved forward and gestured to the empty couch.  “May I sit?”

“Uh, okay,” Thomas said, shifting to face the Side as he did so.  “Can I ask some questions now?”

“We probably should slow down for a minute,” the Side said with a nod.  “What are your questions?”

“Uh…” Thomas wasn’t quite sure where to start.  He could certainly say he hadn’t expected to meet this “Side” of himself today.  He didn’t even know how this worked, or what to call this Side, or—

Oh.  Maybe that was a place to start?

“What should I call you?” Thomas asked.

“The title I would prefer is Self-Interest.”

Thomas nodded.  “Self-Interest.  Okay.  And Anxiety.  Is it just the two of you?”

“No, there are others.” Self-Interest shook his head.  “Don’t even get me started on what Intrusive Thoughts is doing to the mindscape right now.”

Thomas furrowed his brow.  “Okay, hold up.  You’re saying that all of these ‘Sides’ represent different parts of my personality?”

Self-Interest raised an eyebrow.  “I thought we clarified this already.”

“No, I mean, why are you explaining to me everything that’s going on with them?  Shouldn’t I just be talking to them directly?”

Self-Interest snorted.  “Oh, yes, you’re definitely ready for that.�� You won’t even admit that you’re not okay, and you want to meet your Intrusive Thoughts.”

“Wh— why do I even have a whole side for Intrusive Thoughts?  Anxiety I can get, but—”

“It’s… complicated,” Self-Interest said.  “Technically he’s part of your Creativity, but, well, let’s just say there’s two Sides to that.  Creative thoughts you welcome, and ones you… don’t.  As much.”

“Well, can he start working on ones I want to have again?  YouTube is basically my only source of income right now, since I can’t do any auditions for shoots or plays.  If I don’t come up with an idea soon, I’ll be in trouble.”

Self-Interest blinked at him.  “You… want me to tell Intrusive Thoughts… what to do.”

“Well, yeah,” Thomas said.  Had he explained it wrong or something?

Self-Interest looked at him for another long moment.  “Sure, I’ll get right on that.  Good luck getting him away from diseases and death right now, though, that’s basically all you’ve been exposing us to lately.  Which connects back to my main point.”  Self-Interest leaned in.  “Stop trying to pretend you’re okay, and stop avoiding things that are going to actually make you feel better.”

“What…” Thomas said, not quite sure what Self-Interest was referring to.

“I get it, it’s hard to stop telling yourself you’re alright.  That’s sort of my fault.  But we’re not going to get anywhere like this.” Self-Interest paused.  “You know what, I have a better idea.  Give me that.”

Self-Interest reached over Thomas and grabbed the TV remote from the coffee table, flipping the TV on.  “Oh, are we watching the news?” Thomas asked, settling in next to him.

“Ha.  Nope.  We’re watching Disney movies.”

Thomas blinked.  “But—”

“Thomas, we both desperately need a self care day.  Watching Disney will help you, and helping you will help me.  We’re doing this.  Sit back and relax.  If you’d like, I’ll allow you to make some popcorn first.”

“Uh… I’m good,” Thomas said.  Normally he’d start feeling guilty the moment he started considering doing something just for his enjoyment with everything that was happening, but for some reason the feeling felt sort of… muted right now.  Maybe it was the fact that Self-Interest was there?

Either way, Thomas leaned back into the couch as Self-Interest started playing The Little Mermaid and relaxed for the first time in a while.  Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.

Chapter Two

#sanders sides #thomas sanders #janus sanders #my fic

[tallstars-rewrite]

Chapter 32

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A bright ginger tom padded confidently along the narrow fence, taking in the scents of the morning. Dawn was cloudy and gray, but there were small streaks of yellow and orange poking through the gloomy cover. It wouldn’t take long for them to dissipate and give way to scorching clear skies. Jake normally wouldn’t bother being awake so early, as his housefolk wouldn’t be up to feed him until well after sunrise, but this morning felt different. 

Jake had looped the neighborhood twice already looking for...something. He didn’t know what, but he figured he would know when he found it. So far everything was quiet. But he knew when his gut told him that it was a day for going out, he should listen. It had always been right so far--well, ok, it was right at least half the time, but that was a good enough ratio for Jake to take seriously. So, he kept his ears and nose open and searched for anything and everything slightly out of the ordinary.

A pretty gray molly bounded up onto the fence when he walked by her yard.

“Good morning Quince,” Jake greeted her. 

She purred and rubbed her cheek against his. “You're up early,” she purred in a honey sweet voice. “Are you going to watch the sunrise with me after all?”

“Sorry, I was just going to walk by the woods today.”

She rolled her eyes “There’s nothing interesting in the woods! What do you want to go there for?”

“There’s plenty interesting in the woods! Don’t you remember that story I told you before?”

“Oh yes, yes, the monster cats. You’re still going on about that?”

“They’re not monster cats Quince! They’re called warriors.” Jake said indignantly. “Well don’t let Nutmeg hear you talking about it again, you know how worked up she gets about it.”

Jake knew his friends didn’t care as much for his stories of the wild cats that prowled in the woods and beyond. And they didn’t believe him about the one he’d met once either. Sometimes even he wondered if he was just manufacturing the memory of that cat. It felt like it had been an eternity since he lived on the farm at the edge of the moorland; the world around him sprawling in every direction, massive and wondrous if his legs had only been long enough to run it. It certainly felt a bit like a dream when he described it, especially to cats who had always lived in a smaller world where you couldn’t see very far without a house or tree in the way. 

Not that Jake didn’t like living with Cris and Dusty, he loved them both dearly. His housefolk had always been in his life, though he never really understood what made him suddenly want to take all of their things and leave the farmhouse behind. Jake was happy to go with him, but he couldn’t help wishing he’d had just a little bit longer at the barn near the moors. But as his mother always said, life for a cat simply goes on. Everything changes eventually. His paws would be swept in a new direction, with him simply carried along and adapting with it. Family goes separate ways, one day you only know a few fields and a shed, the next you’re whisked to somewhere completely strange, and so it went. It was bewildering, but also exciting in a way. 

Jake had lived in his new home here for moons  He’d explored every nearby inch, including the farther town, and got lost only a few times. It was nice, but it had started to grow a tad...monotonous. And, sure enough, there came an itch in his paws and a tug in his gut that insisted...maybe it’s time to get swept along again. He was restless with the waiting, so he made a point of following the impulse every time. Usually it led him places he wasn’t supposed to be, angering housefolk and strays as he went, but...maybe this time was different.

Jake’s friends didn’t really understand his fancies, but he still tried to goad them into joining him anyway.

“There are lots of birds in the woods this time of day, Quince,” Jake pressed. “You like watching birds don’t you?”

“I like watching birds from my garden, where it’s safe,” she replied, pointedly.

He had promised not to try exploring the woods because it made Quince and Nutmeg uneasy, but it was the only place he hadn’t checked yet. Quince continued giving him a hard look.

“I’m not going in or anything!” Jake insisted.

She narrowed her clear blue eyes a bit, clearly having doubts about that.

As they walked, eventually they heard a rustling below. Someone hissed up at them. Jake and Quince looked down to see a disheveled looking tortoiseshell who walked with a bit of a limp.

“Good morning Nutmeg!” Quince chirped. “You’re not hurting your leg more are you?”

“No, mom I’m not doing any jumping,” Nutmeg rolled her eyes. She carefully clambered up onto a stool, and then a table, to poke her head over the fence.

“You look more ruffled than usual. Anything different go by?” Jake asked.

 Nutmeg broke her leg some time ago tumbling off a roof. She’d gotten frightened by a large bird when she was trying to peek into a new neighbor's garden, but the accident hadn’t stopped her from keeping up her favorite hobby: spying on all of their neighbors. Keeping a defensive lookout, she called it. Or perhaps just being very very nosy.

“Listen, I squeezed through the fence into Tyr’s yard earlier,” Nutmeg said in a hushed urgent voice, “and there’s this dangerous cat walking around!”

“Is this like the dangerous cat that actually turned out to be a little lost terrier?” Jake asked.

“Shut up Jake, that was one time!” Nutmeg hissed. “And yes, I’m sure, Tyr saw it too! It was a big lanky freak all covered in blood. It had probably just killed, and I bet it would do it again! It tried to attack both of us, but we managed to get away. Tyr just left me to scramble down the ladder like the coward he is, and I almost bent my other hind leg in the process.”

“So you have been hurting your leg more,” Quince tutted. “You're never going to get rid of that limp at this rate.”

“Are you even listening? That dangerous cat is still out there! You should both go back to your gardens and get inside.”

Jake couldn’t hide the spark of excitement. This was certainly different.

 Nutmeg glared at him with flattened ears. “I know that look Jake, and don’t you dare even think about it. You can’t go messing with dangerous strays! Last time you did that you almost lost an ear to a mangy old brute.”

“We came to an understanding eventually,” Jake said simply. “I just surprised him is all.”

“Well this isn’t just any stray! This cat wasn’t normal, it was long and gangly and bony, and its claws were huge. A mistake of nature if ever I saw one! So whatever you're thinking, you’d better not.”

Jake blinked at her innocently. “I wasn’t thinking about anything.”

“He was just thinking of strolling by the woods.” Quince chirped.

“Tattle-tail,” he grumbled.

“No!” Nutmeg yowled, digging her claws into the fence in exasperation. “It was right by the woods where we saw it! Just go later! Or better, not at all! Do you have fluff in your brain?”

“It would be a better idea to go home, I think,” Quince said nervously. “I certainly don’t want to meet any aggressive strays.”

Jake sighed. “Alright, alright. Since everyone’s so worked up about it.”

“Thank you.” Nutmeg huffed, “Now get out of my garden, you're going to attract attention.”

Jake waved goodbye to both his friends as Quince quickly made her way back to her own house. He padded onward down the fence. His home was nearby, since he’d already made a full loop of the neighborhood. Truthfully, he wasn’t sure if he was going to be able to keep his promise about going inside. What kind of cat could Nutmeg have been talking about? She had a tendency to exaggerate, but she did seem very worked up. He could go to Tyr and ask him, but Tyr was...well, Jake didn’t want to call him “stuck up” because that would be rude, but he was sometimes... difficult to talk to. And more prone to exaggerating than even Nutmeg. Whatever this mystery was, he’d have to find clues himself.

Jake always believed his paws would take him where he needed to be even if the path there was bumpy, and that destiny was something that had funny and unexpected ways of finding you. Maybe it was an overly colorful way to look at life or even a little naive, he knew that, but Jake figured he would rather be a little naive then miserable and bored. And as he approached his garden, he became all the more certain his gut was right about today after all. 

A sharp scent hit the roof of his mouth and he opened his jaws to get a better taste. Was that...blood on the grass? Jake couldn’t help his curiosity. How could he possibly not follow it? So follow it he did, and to his surprise, the trail led him right into his own yard. Cris would still be asleep. Housefolk hated when Jake woke them up, but he would do it if he had to, in case there really was some sort of danger.

His other housemate, Dusty, had broken off a small bottom chunk of the wooden fence trying to dig his way out (and maybe Jake had encouraged it a bit), and it looked like someone else had squeezed their way through the hole. Slipping through after it, Jake could scarcely believe his eyes. 

There was a long, stretched out form sprawled out awkwardly in the freshly cut grass. Skinny, bloody, and scratched up badly. There was dark wet spots on the ground where it smelled like they'd been sick. It was certainly a cat by the looks of it, though for sure an odd looking one. They were rather big, with an impossibly long tail and the biggest ears Jake had ever seen. 

A series of memories came flooding to the surface of his mind. The sprawling moors, the scraggly border of the woods, a bewildered black and white face blinking down at him with eyes the most beautiful shade of orange and copper Jake had ever seen, like a brilliant setting sun. Memories from a different world that almost felt like dreams these days.

Jake sniffed the limp form. He was definitely passed out cold. It couldn’t really be him could it? It was too perfect a coincidence. It was absurd! And yet...Tallpaw was there. Of course, it all made sense now, that “lanky freak” couldn’t possibly be any cat else.

 And he was an absolute mess. 

“By all the stars!” Jake breathed “What happened to you?”

***

Nutmeg was the last to pull herself up onto Jake’s windowsill. 

“Be careful not to put weight on your leg,” Quince warned. Nutmeg huffed in annoyance for the mollys fussing. 

“Be quick! You won’t believe it,” Jake chirped. He could hardly keep the excitement out of his voice.

“I hope it’s good, because you’re right, so far I don’t believe it.” Tyr scoffed. Jake hadn’t actually invited him, but the pampered old tom had just invited himself as usual, and Jake was too nice to tell him to go away. The windowsill barely fit all four cats. Jake ignored Tyr’s comment and peered in, eyes bright with excitement.

“I’m telling you, it’s the same cat I talked about that I met when I was younger, I’d know those ears anywhere!”

Nutmeg narrowed her eyes. “And he’s in your house now because…?”

“Well, yesterday he passed out outside and I got Cris’s attention because I knew he would help any hurt cat, and then he took him away and brought him back, and now he’s in this room!”

“I cannot believe your housefolk just brought a strange stray into your house! Neither of you know if he’s dangerous. Jake, your housefolk’s head is as full of fluff as yours is,” Nutmeg exclaimed.

Jake turned up his nose. “He cares about everyone, I like that about him! Now wait here, I heard mumbling earlier, so I bet my friend is awake.”

Nutmeg’s short mottled fur stood on end “Wait, don’t go into that room! What are you thinking?”

“Everything’s perfectly under control, Nutmeg,” Jake assured her as he squeezed through the narrow gap in the open window. This window luckily never closed all the way and it was easy to shove a paw under and get open. Jake leaped down into the room and padded over to the carrier. It was covered in a shabby towel. 

Poking his head underneath the cloth, he said as gently as he could “Hey, how are ya feeling? Any better?”

A garbled growl was his response. Well he was sort of awake at least. The carrier suddenly shook violently. Alright, he was definitely awake. Jake scooted back as a long, clumsy white forepaw shot out between the bars and swiped blindly at the air. When the paw got tired and drooped onto the floor, Jake patted it gently with his own paw, and promptly dodged another swipe in response. 

He looked back at his bristling friends on the windowsill. “See, perfectly under control. He’ll feel better when he’s not stuck in that box. Hey Nutmeg, what was the trick you figured out about opening these carriers again?”

“I’m not telling you!” Nutmeg's growl was very high pitched. “You can’t let that thing out Jake, you don’t have any idea what you’re doing!”

“Maybe it would be best to be careful, Jake.” Quince agreed.

“Oh nevermind, I remember now.” Jake pawed at the silver lock. It had to slide in some direction...He batted at it, and the cat inside growled in alarm. “Don’t be afraid! I just have to paw at this until it moves.”

At last it slid, now if he could just get a claw around the door….

It turned out he didn’t have to, as a blur of black and white barreled into the door and it flung open, forcing Jake to spring back. A bristling ball of fur and bandages rocketed across the room until it tumbled into a pile of spare towels tossed on the floor. Cris was never very good at cleaning the house. He heard his friends on the window cry out in alarm, and Jake instinctively jumped back up on the tall windowsill, needing a bit of help from Quince to haul himself all the way up.

“There, everything’s fine,” Jake gasped. “Just want to give him a moment to calm down, being trapped in those little boxes is the worst.”

“That’s...really a genuine real life wild cat then?” Even Nutmeg sounded a bit amazed.

“Yep! He’s from the huge field I told you about, he’s the fastest cat who ever lived.”

“You don’t know that,” Tyr sniffed. He hated any cat that was more impressive than himself, with his “purebred bloodline” whatever that meant.

“I do so know it,” Jake argued, “They’re all really big, and they have a whole society with no housefolk to take food from. And we were friends, and he helped me get home when I was lost once!” 

An angry pair of blazing orange eyes glared at them, hissing as he tried to stand up, but wobbling badly on his feet and falling over soon after. The vet’s medicine had obviously not worn off as Tallpaw stumbled around the room. Jake heard Quince giggle.

“He’s really as noble as you described,” she purred.

“Be nice!” Jake said. “We all saw how bad Nutmeg was when she came back from the vet after her leg got hurt. They make your head all funny.”

Down below, Tallpaw had gotten frightened by a mirror, tried to claw it, hurt his paw and scampered awkwardly away. “Who’s there?” he slurred. “I’m not afraid of you. I’m not afraid of anyone.” He smacked a stray piece of trash on the floor, but the noise it made when it clattered into the wall clearly startled him. He arched his back and snarled.

“He’s snarling at a piece of plastic.” Nutmeg said.

“He’s just confused, I’m sure I can calm him down.” Jake mewed.

Suddenly, Tallpaw whipped around at the sound of their voices and launched himself at them, attempting to leap up onto a shelf near the window. Nutmeg cried out in alarm. Tallpaw’s aim was unsurprisingly poor as he missed the high shelf and tumbled back to the ground. At last he lay still on the carpet, panting.

“W-well he is...something, isn’t he?” Quince stuttered.

Jake winced. “I’ll er...I’ll go see how he’s doing.”

“Wait, that is that same cat from yesterday, I know it!” Nutmeg called, claws digging anxiously into the old wood. “Jake, he’s dangerous and clearly insane, you can’t just walk up to strays like that!”.

“Well, I’m gonna,” Jake said over his shoulder. “I told you, I know him! His name is Tallpaw.”

“I thought its name was Tal.” Tyr muttered.

Tallpaw was breathing heavily on his side, clearly having exhausted himself from his drunken run around the room. Jake padded up and tentatively touched him on the side. Tallpaw’s head shot up, lurching back to his paws again and barring his teeth, but his gaze was blurry and unfocused. “Don’t sneak up’n me, intruder!” he slurred.

“Oh you're not on about that again, are you?” Jake laughed. “Come on Tallpaw, don’t you remember me? It’s me! It's Jake!”

“W-wh....Jake?” Tallpaw blinked at him blearily, as if he was trying to focus. He swayed back and forth on his paws like a tree in the wind.

“Yes, Jake. You're in my house.” Jake mewed slowly.

Tallpaw looked around again, his eyes focused on the three kittypets muttering to each other outside the window. “They’re laughing at me,” he growled. “I’m getting outside.”

 Before Jake could stop him, Tallpaw crouched and leapt straight at the window. Tyr yowled in fear and promptly fell off his perch. Of course, Tallpaw smacked hard into the glass and fell back down again with a loud thump that shook the windowpane, but obviously didn’t budge it. Nutmeg and Quince were bristling in surprise, but Quince was clearly trying very hard to suppress a giggle. 

Nutmeg was less amused. “What is wrong with that cat?” she hissed.

“It’s ok! It’s ok, no one is laughing at you!” Jake said quickly. 

Tallpaw covered his eyes and groaned.

Jake pressed his nose against his head. “It’s all ok, maybe just stay on the ground ‘til you're feeling a little less dizzy, yeah?”

Tallpaw’s sunset colored eyes widened again as he looked up. “Jake?” he wheezed, as if he’d only just seen him.

“That’s it!” Jake purred. The wild cat remembered after all.

 “But...but you got eaten by a monster. Where am I?”

Jake cocked his head in confusion. “Huh? I didn’t get eaten by anything, I just moved away.” 

“You’re not real. I’m dead, this is just part of the punishment...” Tallpaw moaned and flopped back down, burying his face in his paws.

Jake licked his head. “I’ll give you a moment to rest until your head clears.” 

“It’s so bright and loud,” Tallpaw mumbled. “I know buddy, here this will help.” Jake tugged the towel off the carrier and went to awkwardly drape it over the shaking WindClan cat. “There, if you can’t see it, it can’t hurt you.”

Tallpaw only groaned again, but eventually grew quiet and still. Jake looked sheepishly up at his friends while they stared in complete bafflement at the bundle beneath a towel.

Well alright, so this wasn’t the best of introductions. 

Eventually the others were shooed away, but they were obviously very hesitant. Jake couldn’t help being a bit frustrated. Sure there had been one or two times….or maybe several times where he assured his friends that he knew what he was doing, only to come home with new angry bite wounds from adventures gone awry, but couldn’t they give him the benefit of the doubt?

 The house cat sat contentedly next to the wild cat trapped in his house, who was still halfway hidden under a towel and making the occasional whimpering sound. Jake blinked fondly at him and sharpened his claws on the carpet to contain a burst of restless bubbling excitement. He had a feeling the next change in his life was about to start.

chapter list / previous / next

#FRU32 #chapter 32 #a sudden POV switch 32 chapters in? its more likely than you think #this was one of my favorite chapters to write lmao

[soldrawss]

So I’mmina start this off by saying literally all your aus/drawing make me smile. They’re all so fascinating and sweet and so,SO well thought out! That being said, not to be that person that brings angst into a fluff buffet but... in your Movie Star Dad AU, do the boys every have mixed feelings about their father suddenly appearing in their lives after a prolonged absence? Also would Christof Von Bradford be an issue for the fam, considering his active competitive jerk energy he has with Lou?

Hi, thank you for your sweet words!!! I literally think about my rottmnt aus every waking moment, no joke, so I’m glad that you think they’re well thought out! I do my best! (also always bring angst. I always have a lot of angst in these au’s, I just also try to even it out with just as much fluff) The boys were YOUNG when Yoshi came into their lives, and each of them have their own perspectives on it, so at the time, they didn’t really have any huge negative feelings towards their situation before Yoshi found them because his absence wasn’t really,,, prolonged.

Mikey was literally a baby, barely a year old, so he doesn’t ever remember a time when Yoshi wasn’t in his life. Yoshi is the only parent Mikey really knows, and he’s completely fine with that. If Mikey has any mixed feelings, it’s towards his late mother, who he has absolutely no memories about, and only really knows her through the pictures Raph kept and the stories Raph and Yoshi would tell about her. He sometimes feels bad that he doesn’t feel as sad about her passing as Raph or Yoshi does, and he sometimes feels bad about not remembering her at all, but it’s also weird cause he knows he shouldn’t feel bad about it, cause he was too little to remember anything anyway and that’s not his fault, but the weird gross feelings in his stomach are there all the same when he thinks too hard about it. So he tries not to think about it. And just blissfully goes about his days with his doting dad and his overindulgent big brothers. 

Raph was nervous and distrustful of Yoshi at first, because of course he was. He was 4 years old, sitting in a hospital bed alone with just his tiny baby brother in his arms, nursing a concussion and ugly road rash on his arms and legs while also nursing a broken heart after just losing mama. And then suddenly this man appears, the man in the movies that mama always loved to watch, except he’s not wearing the flamboyant jumpsuit he’s always wearing, but a maroon sweatshirt and old jeans. His signature styled pompadour and orange shades replaced with a disheveled ponytail and bags like bruises under his eyes. And a lot of people come and go throughout the next couple of weeks. Doctors and therapists and child services and lawyers and all of their faces begin to blend together in a dizzying swirl and Raph has a hard time focusing on anyone who isn’t Mikey. But the man stays the same. His face stays intact, and he follows them wherever they go. And then suddenly Raph and Mikey are allowed to go home with the man, and he tells them how he’s their dad. And how he didn’t know they existed, but he’s going to make up for all the lost time tenfold. And he promises he’s gonna love them enough for both him and their mama. Which Raph doesn’t think is possible, and so he’s suspicious and untrusting at first, cause no one can love them more than their mama did. But the man tries. Boy, does he try hard anyway. Tries to win every smiling giggle Mikey shoots at him and earn Raph’s faith that he’ll be there for them. That he’ll protect them. That he’s going to love them forever. And over the weeks and months, through every tantrum and screaming fit and long sleepless nights, he proves it, little by little. He stays. And he loves them. And Raph’s faith in the man grows with every bedtime story and piggyback ride and half-cooked pancake with too much syrup, and Raph’s guard slowly goes down until it’s fully surrendered over to this man who is their dad, and it’s never raised again.  Donnie knows the routine. He’s been through it approximately 27 and a half times before, through all the foster care homes. A new family takes him in. He messes up something. The new family gives him back. Lather. Rinse. Repeat. He’s been here before. He knows this isn’t going to last long, despite all the promises the man with the thick accent says. And Donnie doesn’t really register that this man was his biological father. He doesn’t really care to, to be honest. What was the point? His own biological mother had willingly gotten rid of him, Donnie’s snuck a peek at his record, he knew it all. So what if this man was his dad. That didn’t mean anything. He was gonna get tired of Donnie the same way all the other parents did. Tired of the constant questions. Tired of the broken appliances and half baked reasons why he took them apart in the first place, because apparently “I wanted to see how they worked” wasn’t a good enough answer. And Donnie was three years old and smarter than anyone ever gave him credit for and you know what? He was tired of it too. Tired of getting his hopes of a family finally understanding and accepting him. Tired of wanting a family who would love him back. Tired of getting his heart broken time and time again. So he wasn’t going to get his heart broken this time. He wasn’t going to accept anything of this man, with two boys already that shared Donnie’s eyes, and he wasn’t going to let himself be the fool again. And as the weeks went by, this cold shoulder game he was playing was getting harder and harder to keep, because dangit, this man really did try everything to prove that he was the real deal. The forever family. And Donnie’s new ‘brothers’ were always bright-eyed and curious about everything Donnie did and said, and actually wanted to play his weird word games and puzzles and wanted to spend time with him, and Donnie felt something short circuit in his brain because he wasn’t used to this feeling in his chest. This warm and light feeling. Something must be overheating in whatever engine was running inside of Donnie’s chest, and Donnie didn’t have a clue how to fix it. He also didn’t know if he wanted to fix it. But of course, it didn’t matter anyway. Because Donnie messed up. It was bound to happen eventually, Donnie got to brazen with how comfortable he was getting in the large house, and when he was running in the hallways, chasing after Raph in an impromptu game of tag, he accidentally slipped and knocked into the t.v stand, sending it straight to the floor where it broke into a hundred different pieces of glass and tiny wired parts. Donnie was mortified, knowing this would definitely send him back, and he got on his hands and knees and tried to collect the parts and put it back together but there was no time. The man that Donnie was half tempted to call dad half the time was already in the room, searching for the source of the loud crash and when his eyes finally landed on Donnie and the broken t.v behind him, Donnie couldn’t help but burst into tears. And he tried to explain, tried to apologize and he promised he’d fix it, he promised, he’d fix it up brand new and then the man wouldn’t have to send Donnie back. He’d be good. He’d fix this. He promised. Just please don’t send him back. And Donnie didn’t see the way the man’s body flinched at Donnie’s sobbed confession, and didn’t see the man lurch from where he was standing to pick Donnie up and hold him in a tight embrace saying all kinds of things that didn’t make sense to Donnie. Because the man was supposed to be angry. Angry like all the other parents eventually were. Angry and disappointed and tired, not... well... whatever this was. Which was holding him close, and running shaking hands through his hair and rubbing circles into his back and saying “Are you ok? Did you get hurt anywhere? Did you touch the glass? Shhh, shhhh, it’s ok buddy, breathe, you’re ok. You’re not in trouble. You don’t have to fix anything. It’s just a t.v. As long as you’re unhurt, then it’s ok. You’re ok, sweetheart. I got you.” And Donnie could feel the man press kisses into Donnie’s hairline that made the 3-year-old cry even harder, and press his face farther into his dad’s shirt as he clung to him for dear life. Because it’s never been just ‘ok’ before. Never. And for the first time, Donnie was starting to learn that with this family, with this man, being ‘ok’ might just work out after all.

When Leo meets Yoshi for the first time, it’s with a heart already filled to the brim with excitement and acceptance as he fully lets him into his life. Because Leo’s 3, and doesn’t know where he came from like most of the other kids in the halfway home. All he knows is that he’s always lived in this cramped house, sharing a room with a broken AC unit with 4 other boys around his age that just loved picking on Leo because of how small he was and how his skin was two different colors. He’s used to the house, and strict rules about eating and playtime, and the mean older kids that come and go while Leo always stays. He doesn’t want to be used to it, but he is, and his lonely daydreams and nights wishing upon all the stars in the sky are filled with thoughts about a life where he gets to leave this place. Dreams about a mom and dad or even a cool uncle or caring grandparents or literally anyone, coming and rescuing him and taking him far away from this place. Dreams about finding a home, with someone there calling him theirs. Belonging to someone, and having someone belong to him too. And then on a dusty and warm afternoon, that very person showed up, and Leo smiles at him hard enough to hurt his face. And he was looking for Leo, Leo specifically, not someone around Leo’s age or who looked like Leo, but actually Leo. And the man wanted Leo. Wanted him like no one had ever wanted him before. And wanted to take him home and call Leo his forever and Leo would have thought he was still dreaming if he hadn’t kept pinching himself the entire 6-hour flight to New York. And not only did Leo get a dad, but he got 3 brothers as well! 3 brothers, who all looked different than Leo but shared his brown eyes all the same, and didn’t mind that Leo talked a lot or made a lot of jokes and didn’t bully him for being or looking ‘weird’ like the other boys he grew up with did. And even though dad says that Leo’s his, and Raph and Donnie and Mikey want to hang around and play with him, Leo still finds himself pinching himself every night just in case. Because this is almost too good to be a dream. It couldn’t be real, right? Did Leo deserve this? Was it really his to have? To call his own? Was a kid like him, who grew up with nothing, who grew up as a nothing, allowed to have everything, and be somebody worth keeping around? Leo wasn’t sure, but if this was a dream, it was the best one he’d ever had, and he hopes he doesn’t wake up from it anytime soon.

#my fic #rottmnt #rottmnt human #rottmnt human au #tmnt #tmnt human #oh boy sorry this was long #but yeah no #the boys don't really blame yoshi for anything #they're just glad they have a dad #expecially leo and donnie #and i didn't have a chance to answer the bradford question but #short answer is no #bradford is known as a competitor for the dojo #but he's not really a big deal to the kids or really to yoshi #who still has his acting to fall on #the dojos are more for fun than anything #bradford is annoying though #because bradford THINKS he's a big deal to the hamatos and tries to make a big stink about their 'rivalry' #but really he's not

[obaby-me]

Your Type

Beelzebub x Reader

He never even had a chance.

Author’s Note:  I love me some pining.  But also, I love me a happy ending.  The quiz that is mentioned in this story can be found here:  https://www.buzzfeed.com/javiermoreno/whats-your-actual-type

If there’s anyone who knows anything about attraction, it’s Beelzebub’s older brother, Asmodeus.  He’s a natural matchmaker, known to fix up his brothers with dates and hook ups that have always returned rave reviews.  So, when Asmo says he can find you the perfect date for Diavolo’s latest inspired event—a homecoming dance—Beel knows that without question, he will.

“First, we need to know your type,” Asmo tells you as he lays out on the living room couch, his legs over laying over top of yours as you sit upright with the latest reading assignment laying forgotten in your open palms.

“I don’t think this is really necessary,” you tell him with a small laugh.

“Oh, but it is!  I want you to have the most enjoyable time possible!  And as much as I’d love to be the one on your arm, I already made a promise to Solomon to accompany him instead.”  Asmo says with a regretful sigh.  “He was going to go stag, can you believe it?  I couldn’t let him!”

“I don’t think there’s really anything wrong attending an event without a date,” you say thoughtfully. “I’ve certainly done so before.”

“You what!”  Asmo gasps.

“Well, sometimes no one asks.  But I still want to meet up with some of my friends that will be attending, so I went on my own,” you said with a small shrug.

“Well, you didn’t have me then, and you do now.  I’m going to find you a perfect date!”  Asmo declares confidently.  “Now, type if you please.”  He says with a snap of his fingers, demanding an answer.

“I don’t have one,” you tell him, turning a page on your book in an attempt to return to studying.

“Oh, yes you do! Everyone has a type!  Some just more loosely defined than others,” Asmo says with a hand wave.  “Take Beel for example, he loves someone who can cook and share recipes with him, or someone athletic to swap workout regimens with!”  Asmo says as he waves a hand to Beel who sits at your feet, back against the couch.  “And he’s a sucker for a tight ass,” he adds with a grin.  “Oh, the shorter the better too!  He’s got such a kink for-“  Asmo begins.

Beel chokes against the chips he’d been pouring from the bag into his mouth, trying to catch the last remnants that remained in the bag.  Though not intended, it was the perfect interruption.  A heat blooms on his face as Asmo calls him out on his preferences, and he’s glad you can’t see his face while he’s sitting at your feet, his back against the couch.

Asmo’s right, of course. He does like those things, and he’s been quite happy with the partners Asmo’s previously selected for him when he’s been required to attend other Diavolo events that demand a date.

“Well, if I have a type, I certainly don’t know it,” you say quickly, and Beel silently thanks you for help him save face.

“Well, I have just the thing for that!”  Asmo says with delight.  He swings his legs over you and over Beel’s head as he stands and quickly leaves to fetch whatever “the thing” is.

There’s a silence that envelops in the room and he can hear you turn a page in your book, indicating that you’ve returned to your studying.  “J-just so you know,” Beel begins, “I-I like other things too.”  But he can’t quite grasp all the words he wants to say.

He likes your hair, its style and its color.

He likes your eyes, especially when they light up with delight.

He likes the way you smile and how you sound when you laugh.

He likes how you feel in his arms on the rare occasions when he gets to hold you.

He likes the way you spend your time at his side; when he eats, when he works out, when he studies, when he simply lays about with his brother Belphie.

He likes you.

And he’d like to go to the dance with you.

But there’s hardly any time for him to translate his feelings into any proper sentence before Asmo returns, waving a magazine in his hand.  He plants himself beside you, cuddled into your side, head leaning on your shoulder as he flips through the pages quickly.

“You can’t be serious,” you tell him with a laugh.

“It’s just the start,” Asmo says with a wave of his hand.  “It’s the first read on the general direction I should be going in, and then I consider other things too!  Like your interests, and your hard limits, y’know, the basics.”

“Asmo, this date is not going to end with me needing to express any hard limits,” you warn.

“Maybe,” Asmo says with a playful wink, “but what if it becomes something more?  What if you hit it off so well, it becomes two dates, then three!”

Beel can feel his brows furrow and his heart feels tight at the very thought.

“Three dates will also not end with me expressing any hard limits,” you say with a laugh.  “But I understand what you mean.  I’m still not sharing that with you.”

Asmo bites his lip and raises his brows, whispering into your ear gently, “oh, but I do hope someday you will, in one way or another.”  Just as quickly as he turns on his flirting, he’s quick to return his attentions to the magazine in his hands.  “Anyway, other than the obvious me, let’s get back to finding your type!”

Beel can’t help but take a glance at your face, it’s slightly red but you seem to be laughing Asmo’s suggestion as a mere joke.  He wishes he was just as smooth.  He wishes he could make your cheeks heat up into that pretty shade.

Quickly he turns back to his textbook, as if he wasn’t hanging on to every word.

“First question!  What feature do you fine most attractive?  Full lips, sexy eyes, luscious hair, well maintained eyebrows, clear skin, or a bright smile?”  Asmo reads.

“Those are the choices?” You ask, finding the options rather ridiculous.  “Bright smile.”

“Well, what choice would you choose if it’s not listed here?”  Asmo asks curiously.

“No, bright smile is a good one.”  You say with a bright smile of your own.  Beel can’t help but wonder if you would think the same of his.  Certainly his are white, but when he looks at you, he knows that’s not why he considers yours so blindingly wonderful.

“If you were visit any of these mountainous regions, where would you like to visit?  The craggy mountains, the witch’s eye, the-“

“You can stop right there on that one,” you say holding a hand up, “I don’t know any of those places.”

“Fine, fine.  That one’s pretty unimportant anyway.  Now!  Describe your personality with one word!  Fun, social, deep, reserved, nice, bookish?”

“Nice,” Beel answers for you.

“I’d agree!”  Asmo says with a nod.  “I didn’t think you were interested, Beel.”  Asmo mocks.

Beel doesn’t bother to respond and only holds his textbook up a little higher.

“I don’t think I’m especially nice,” you mutter, though you are flattered.

“What’s an ideal food for you to have on a date?  Sushi, tacos, steak, fon-“

“Steak.  I know that one, steak.”  You say cutting him off with a grin.  Asmo gives a laugh but marks it down on to sheet.  Beel can’t help but grin.  He’ll be keeping that in mind on your next outing to a restaurant with him and Belphie.

“Which personality trait is a total turn off?  Dishonesty, selfishness, vanity, cockiness, terrible manners, aloofness?”

For awhile you are silent, mulling over the question.  “Dishonesty,” you say slowly.  “Being lied to hurts the most.”

Beel can sympathize with that, recalling how his eldest brother Lucifer had lied to him about Belphie’s disappearance for so long.  And Lilith, the truth about Lilith hurt him the most.  He understands this better than anyone.  And so do you.  It’s a comfort him to know.

“And finally, what’s better to have in a relationship, a lot of good food, or a lot of good sex?” Asmo asks with a grin.

Beel holds a breath, his fingers suddenly crossing as he holds the textbook tight.  Food, he hopes, food.  If there’s anything more Beel-like in an answer, it’s this one.

You laugh wildly at the question.  “Are those really the two options?”  You manage between bouts of laughter.  Asmo’s eyebrows flit up and down suggestively.

“Come now, answer the question!”

“Sex, then.”  You say as you wipe tears from your eyes.

Beel can feel his heart drop into his stomach.  But one question doesn’t mean anything, right?  He fits some of the other criteria—probably.  He still has a chance.

“Well, well, I’ll be keeping that in mind!”  Asmo grins. “And that certainly knocks Beel out of the running,” Asmo teases as he turns to prod his younger brother with his foot.

And Beel doesn’t dare to turn to look at Asmo, or you, the joke hitting him where it hurts the most.  But Beel doesn’t think Asmo knows it.  He can’t bring himself to be angry at him.

“Let’s see, results here say that what you like is the Creative Type!  Expansive mind, expressive, with knowledge of the arts. Brains and creativity are your ultimate turn on.”  Asmo reads out, skimming the results.  If anyone, it sounds like Satan,” Asmo says with a laugh.

Beel can’t help the way his fingers suddenly grip the book so tightly that he feels the hard cover bend and indent with the force of his grip.  The idea of Satan taking you to the dance makes his stomach turn upside down. And his nerves feel like fire.

“Mm,” you hum, non-committal.  “Maybe,” you sound unconvinced—but the fact that you’re considering at all makes him feel like he’s dropped a dumbbell over his chest.  It was as if you’d rejected him without him having ever gotten the chance to ask.

Unable to bear being in the room any longer, Beel mutters, “I’m hungry.”  He shuts his book (as best as it can be considering how he’s unintentionally maimed it).

“I could use a break too,” you say, closing your own book, and standing up.  “I think that’s enough for me,” you tell Asmo who looks dejectedly at you.

“Oh, but I haven’t even gotten to follow up with the better questions yet!”

“Later,” you promise him, which seems to light him up.

“Not too much later, dear! I’ll need the time to find you your date after all!”  He chides.

You smile and wave but don’t otherwise answer him and follow after Beel, whose plan to get away from you has since failed.

Opening the fridge, he pulls out the many containers which have his name scrawled on sticky notes. Sometimes two or three for one container—for good measure.

“What’re you having today?” you ask him with interest as you peer into the clear glass cases.

But Beel’s not really sure to be quite honest.  He’s just pulling everything he can.

“Beel?” You call out to him.

“Hm?”  He responds, not once turning to you.

“Beel, are you okay?”

“Yeah.”

There’s a silence as Beel takes the various containers to the multiple microwaves to the end of the long counter on the opposite end of you, the whir of the three machines taking up the room.

“I like other things too,” you echo to him his words from earlier.  It seems you had guessed the reason for his somber mood.

“Yeah?”  He asks a small dash of hope lingering in his voice, though he still didn’t dare look at you.  He could feel himself flush.

“I like you,” you whisper quietly from across the room.

His breath catches in his throat and his heart rate spikes as if he’s run 5 miles.  He heard you correctly, right?  Right?

He gulps audibly, pausing as he attempts to calm himself.  “Yeah?” he asks as he gives you a sideway glance.  However, now it seems that you’re the one who can’t seem to look at him. But the red tips of your ears give him all he needs to know.

“Yeah,” you answer back, your voice quiet but resolved.

He’s not sure he’s ever smiled so wide before—his cheeks actually hurt.  But he doesn’t mind.

“D-do you have anyone you’re going with to the—”

“No.”  He says quickly, turning to face you fully.

There’s a loud screech signaling that his food is finally ready and waiting for him.  But his appetite has since dissipated—his stomach too full of butterflies to take anything else in.  He ignores them in favor of striding towards you.

“Do you maybe want to—” you ask as you hear his footsteps approaching.  You turn to look at him, looking apprehensive.

“Yes.”  He says, with a happy nod.

“Like, as a real date,” you clarify quickly.

“Yes.”  He confirms, his hand reaching towards you to stroke your cheek.  “I’d like that more than anything.”  A screech of the microwave reminding him of his meal perfectly attesting to it.

You smile as you lean into his hand, your hands cupping his so gently.

Guess he had a chance after all.

#obey me #obey me beelzebub #beelzebub x reader #fic #mammon may be my first love #but beel's such a close second #he's a good boy #a soft boy #a big boy #mmm #maybe a beel smut someday #maybe sooner than later #we'll see

[snelbz]

The Ranch {19}

An A Court of Thorns and Roses, Nesta x Cassian, Modern AU, fanfiction.

Collaboration: @snelbz​ x @tacmc​

Summary: Nesta had spent years in Paris, living her dream and drowning in riches as a gourmet chef, capturing the hearts of the city and its people. But, after her father passes away unexpectedly and leaves his cozy, countryside B&B to his oldest daughter, Nesta is moving back home to the tiny town of Velaris, where the ranch, her sisters, and her father’s unfulfilled dream, awaits.

Sidenote: Being posted between two blogs, it is too chaotic to keep up with a tags list, so all chapters will be tagged with “#TheRanchNessian” & “#SharaCollab”.

Nesta stood in the paint department and looked at the wall of samples in front of her. She wanted something light, but something that stood out, too. She didn’t want anything like her father had chosen back in the nineties and-.

She shook her head, trying to free her head of the deja vu that washed over her and chuckling quietly. She had been here before, had done this before. Things were just...a little different this time.

As if she wanted to remind her mother of this fact, Nesta felt a sharp pain against her ribs and she inhaled sharply through her teeth. Beau looked up at her, brown eyes wide. He hadn’t left her side since the beginning of her third trimester and Nesta had learned to love the constant, comforting presence.

“Your sister is using my ribs as a punching bag,” she told him, regardless of the fact that he couldn’t understand her. He opened his mouth in what Nesta swore was a smile and his tongue hung to the side.

He always smiled when they talked about the baby.

Nesta was floored as she realized how different her life had become in twelve months. A year ago, she’d been deciding whether or not she should give up everything she’d ever wanted, to move home and run her father’s crumbling dream of a bed and breakfast. Now she was about to have a baby, her perfect, little girl, and she was going to marry the man of her dreams, the man who gave her the gift she never thought possible.

“Nesta?”

She froze, recalling how someone had called her name the last time she’d been here, who it had been when she turned. But it wasn’t Tomas, just Azriel standing in his old, torn jeans and black hoodie. Out of all of them, it was Azriel who looked the least the part of a rancher, but he sure as hell knew what he was doing.

“Cass said you were running into town, but this was the last place I thought I’d see you,” Azriel said, when Nesta said nothing. 

Nesta, collecting her thoughts, gestured to the wall of paint samples. “Nursery color.”

“Ah,” Azriel said, huffing a laugh as he stopped next to her and looked at the wall. Beau brushed up against his leg, and he gave the pup a loving scratch behind the ears. “What about purple?”

Nesta frowned, looking at the endless samples of purple. She had gone over the lavender hues ten times already. “Too predictable. Pink, too. I’ve ruled them both out.”

Azriel chuckled. “Fair enough. Cass wants to paint it green.”

Nesta rolled her eyes. She had to admit that she had her eye on a neutral olive color, but it didn’t seem right, it wasn't special enough.  “So I’ve been told. I told him no, though.”

It was true. In fact, the night before they’d had a heated debate over what color the nursery would be. It ended in them making love on the nursery’s carpet, but that was irrelevant. 

“How about blue?” Azriel suggested, picking up a few different swatches. “There are a ton of different shades of blue, surely there’s one you two can agree on.”

It was her favorite color, but it limited her decorating choices. Both the camouflage and rodeo nursery ideas were nixed last night as well, and Cassian was still pouting about it.

“I’ve been leaning towards a softer yellow or orange.” She lifted a buttery yellow card from its slot. It was too bright, too rich. She added it to the stack, knowing it may look different away from the fluorescent lights. “Like the sunrise. First light.”

Azriel was nodding. “Why don’t you ask Feyre to paint the sunrise?”

Nesta was going to blame her stupidity on pregnancy brain as her eyes went wide and she said, “I hadn’t even thought of that. She’d love that.”

Azriel just smiled, softly. “Feyre would be honored, if you asked her.”

Nesta nodded, slowly, then picked out a couple different shades of yellows and oranges. “Since you’re here, please take me to get some tacos. I’ll buy. Might even bring some home to Cass, if he’s been good this morning.” Azriel’s grin widened as they began walking toward the exit. “A little cranky, I must say, but I think that’s just because he’s hungover.”

Nesta snorted. After their fight over paints, he’d indulged himself - one beer too many, perhaps. “It doesn’t take much to be hungover when you wake up at five a.m.”

“True,” Azriel agreed. “I could do tacos, though.”

“Good,” Nesta said, putting the paint swatches into her purse as she and Azriel walked out onto the sidewalk, Beau close behind. 

It wasn’t until they were down the street at a taco vendor’s food truck that Nesta asked, “So, when the hell are you going to ask my sister to marry you?”

The bite he’d been in the process of taking nearly came back out. Nesta didn’t even flinch. She’d spent so much time throwing up in the past eight months that partially chewed food didn’t even phase her. She blinked and waited for him to collect himself before he took a drink of the Corona in his hand.

“You just go straight for the balls, don’t you?” He laughed.

She raised her eyebrows. “Have you met my fiancé?”

“Fair enough,” he laughed, but he sighed. “You want the honest truth?”

Nesta suddenly realized she wasn’t sure. She was meddling and the only person who hated meddling more than she did was Elain. But she nodded.

Az took a deep breath and said, “I’ve had the ring for almost six months.”

“What?” Nesta’s eyes must have nearly bulged out of her head, because Az backed up a step. “And why exactly haven’t you proposed?”

His smile was soft but proud, as he said, “I don’t want to take this time from you, or from Cassian. You’re having a baby. Like, Nesta, you’re growing a literal human inside of yourself.” He chuckled and smiled fondly. “Did you know that even when we were in high school all Cass wanted from life was to rope and have a family. You’re giving him one of those things and I can’t ever thank you for making my brother so happy. And I don’t want to take that spotlight from y’all. I want you to have your moment, so that when the time comes, Elain can have hers.”

Nesta hated Azriel for making her cry over her taco, and yet, tears were sliding down her cheeks as she set her taco back down onto her plate and observed him. Eventually, she cleared her throat and said, “Elain is a lucky woman.”

Azriel just shook his head as he took another bite. “That woman deserves the world. If anyone’s lucky, it’s me.”

Nesta found herself completely overwhelmed. A year ago, she hadn’t believed love existed, but now? Her and Cassian, Elain and Azriel, Feyre and Rhysand...this type of love was rare, Nesta was sure of it, but somehow they all ended up in a fairytale romance. Her sisters were happy, she was happy...it was perfect. 

“Don’t tell your sister that I made you cry,” Azriel went on, shoving the last of his taco into his mouth. “She’ll kick my ass. She’s scary when she wants to be.”

She shook her head, dabbing at her eyes with a scratchy napkin. “She’ll understand when you knock her up. I cried yesterday during a Christmas commercial.” Azriel waited, knowing that was somewhat common. “A commercial for cattle feed.”

He nodded. “I believe you. Doesn’t change the fact that your sister will punch me in the dick if she finds out I was the cause of your tears.”

They both laughed and Nesta smiled. “Thank you for making her so happy.”

Az gave her that full smile that so many rarely saw. “It’s my pleasure.”

Nesta finished her tacos and ordered some for Cassian for the road. “Word of advice,” she said, getting into her car. Beau already patiently sat in the passenger seat. “Don’t ask her on a holiday. Girls don’t want to share their special day.”

Azriel’s eyebrows raised. “I...hadn’t thought of that.”

Nesta chuckled. “You were going to propose on New Years, weren’t you?”

He nodded once. “Yes, I was.”

She laughed, full and bright, and said, “How about this? You tell me when it’s time, I’ll plan a family dinner and voila, you’ve got yourself a fiancée.”

“Really?” Azriel asked, stopping in front of the driver’s side of the truck’s door.

“Of course,” Nesta said, crossing her arms, the bag of Cassian’s food hanging on her arm. 

“Thank you,” he said, and she knew by the look in his eyes that he meant it.

Although they were going to the same place, they said their goodbyes and Nesta drove home, slowly. By the time she made it back home to the ranch with her paint swatches, Cassian was mowing the lawn. He was shirtless, of course, and was chugging a bottle of water as he rode the lawn mower across the grass. As Nesta pulled into the driveway, he was waving and putting it in park. 

He was covered in sweat, but Nesta still didn’t stop him as he pressed his lips to the side of her head. “The grass was long.”

Nesta nodded. She had wanted to ask him to mow, considering she was too pregnant to do so, but hadn’t wanted to interrupt his daily plans. “I brought you tacos.” 

“Mmm, that’s exactly why I’m marrying you,” he said, pulling her onto his sweaty lap and opening the box in her hands.

She squirmed out of his arms, as best as she could at eight and a half months pregnant and said, “I’m going to go hang the swatches on the wall, come see when you’re done?”

He nodded, shoving an entire taco in his mouth.

She chuckled, but shivered as a brisk wind blew by. “Cass, I know the sun is straight on you, but it’s forty-five degrees out. Don’t you think you should put a shirt on?”

He finished chewing and said, “How else will I keep my tan year round?”

She shook her head and said, “I’ll be inside, call me if you need me. I love you.”

He smiled at her, those hazel eyes sparkling from the joy he felt inside. “I love you too, darlin’.”

She turned and started up the porch steps and heard, “Hey.”

Nesta looked back at him and he asked, the sparkle replaced by his usual mischievous glint, “You got any green swatches in there?”

Nesta rolled her eyes as Azriel pulled the truck in next to her little car. “No.”

She continued up into the house, laughing when she heard Az ask why the hell he wasn’t wearing a shirt. She pulled the swatches out of her purse, including the couple of greens she’d snagged on their way out, along with her phone and she and Beau made their way up to her old room.

The room that she grew up in was the same room her daughter would too.

As she was taping swatches to the room, in various lighting, she called Feyre, putting her phone on speaker.

“Hello?” her sister answered a second later.

“Hey,” Nesta said, looking around the room. “I have a favor to ask.” “Ask away,” Feyre said.

Nesta admired the swatches she had chosen before clearing her throat. “Would you mind...helping me paint the baby’s nursery?”

There was a slight pause, then Feyre’s quiet voice came through, “Of course.”

“I was thinking the sunrise,” Nesta continued, trying not to cry for the tenth time that day. “Bright, cheery, calming.”

“I can do that,” Feyre breathed. “I can come by this weekend?”

“Perfect,” Nesta agreed. There was a few seconds of silence before Nesta said, “Thank you.”

“Anything for my niece,” Feyre said, then added, “And anything for you. And that idiot fiancé of yours.”

Nesta peeked out the window where Cassian was still mowing without his shirt on. He always acted like it was spring, even in the winter. Although their town stayed pretty mild, winter-wise, there was still a little chill in the air. “Idiot he is, but he’s my idiot.”

Feyre chuckled. “Still on for dinner tomorrow?”

“Of course,” Nesta promised. “I’ll see you then.”

They said their goodbyes before Nesta was left alone, in the silence, observing the room around her. Five minutes of planning in her head passed before heavy boots padded up the stairs and Cassian appeared, now wearing a hoodie, the sleeves pushed up to his elbows. “Can I help with anything?”

She was admiring the colors in the direct sunlight. “You can tell me which of these you like best.”

“Hmm.” He came up behind her, pressing his big hands against her belly. Even as round as she was, even at over eight months pregnant, his hands still covered most of it. But then they slid upwards until he was cupping a breast in each hand. He made a show of weighing them and squeezing them gently, and said, “I don’t know, I think I’m pretty partial to the left one.”

She rolled her eyes, laughing, and pushed away from him, walking towards the wall. “I meant color, baby.”

“Oh, well that’s easy,” he snorted, coming in closer as well.

It turned out that it was, in fact, not easy.

After forty-five minutes of arguing and an almost silent quickie with the door open to make up, they had narrowed it down to New Spring Chick and Frosted Tropical Apricot.

They would let Feyre make the final decision in the morning.

“Don’t you have to get back out there?” Nesta asked.

Cassian shook his head. “For now, Az has it covered, it’s been an easy day. I was thinking you and I could go out to dinner, though.”

Nesta lifted a brow. “Dinner?”

Cassian nodded, then gestured to her belly. “We only have so much more time before baby comes. We should have a date night while we can.”

Nesta watched him for a moment before saying, “Okay, fine. But does this mean I have to get dressed up?”

Cassian grinned. “You could wear fucking sweatpants for all I care, but I’m taking you out.”

She wouldn’t wear sweatpants, but she also didn’t plan on wearing another real pair of pants until after this baby was out of her.

Cassian pressed a soft kiss to her stomach, which he did every chance he took, and left to go take a much needed shower. Nesta got ready, slipping on a pair of comfy black leggings and a baggy sweatshirt. Cass ended up dressing nearly identically, except he did wear sweatpants.

They hopped in the “play truck” and right before they left, Cassian said, “Shit, I’ll be right back.”

Nesta sat straight up, hands forming a protective cage around her stomach. “What? Is everything okay?”

He jogged into the house and came back out a minute later, backpack tossed over his shoulder. Climbing back into the truck, he tossed it in the backseat and put it in reverse.

“What is that?” she asked. “You scared the shit out of me.”

“This,” Cass replied, putting his free hand in Nesta’s and rubbing soothing circles into the back of her hand, “is our emergency bag. It’s got everything we’ll need in it in case you go into labor. Clothes, insurance paperwork, phone chargers, snacks.” He began a smooth back and forth motion. “Diapers, binkies, onesies, little socks and blankets, and everything else our precious girl is going to need.”

She blinked, and hated that tears were, once again, rolling down her cheeks. “You have truly thought of everything, haven’t you?”

Cassian shrugged. “You’re literally growing my child inside of you. As your baby daddy, it’s my job to take as much stress off of you as possible.”

Nesta leaned over the center console and pressed her lips to his cheek. “Thank you.”

He grinned, fully satisfied with himself, as he pulled onto the road and headed into town. They drove to a little Italian restaurant because Nesta had mentioned she could use a plate full of breadsticks. Cassian ordered it to go, though, and hopped back into the truck before driving a mile down the road to the old high school. He parked in the parking lot before hopping out and putting down the truck bed.

“Come on, babe,” he called, already taking the boxes of pasta out of the bag. When Nesta came around, he helped her onto the back of the truck before joining her there, his thigh brushing hers.

She ate her alfredo happily, indeed chowing down on an insane number of breadsticks that Cassian swore he didn’t count.

He was rubbing her feet when she asked, voice quiet, “Are you scared?”

He looked at her, at how she was staring off toward the football field, pretending not to notice him staring at her. “Am I scared of doing something stupid? Yes. Am I scared it’s going to be a lot more than we’re expecting? Yes. Am I scared we’re going to get in over our heads? Yes. Am I scared that there’s about to be a miniature version of you running around? Hell yes.” He turned her face toward his, forcing her to look at him. “But am I scared to be a father? No. Am I scared to meet our daughter? No. Am I scared to do this with you? Absolutely not.”

She whispered, “Quit making me cry.”

But he shook his head, softly. “I love you, Nesta. And yeah, I am scared, but I can’t wait. This little girl already has me wrapped around her finger and she’s not even here yet.”

A tear slid down her cheek that he quickly reached up and brushed away. “Are you scared?”

Nesta took a moment to think about it, but then she sighed. “Yes, and no. It’s complicated.”

Cassian chuckled, in full understanding.

“I’m scared because I don’t know what to expect,” she said, after a minute. “I’m not sure how to handle the not knowing.”

“That’s why we have each other, sweetheart,” he kissed the top of her head. “Come on, let’s get home. I have a shitload of furniture to build tonight.”

The egregiously overpriced infant's bedroom suit that Nesta had seen online had been delivered that afternoon. Cassian couldn’t understand how Nesta could justify spending as much as some people spent on a vehicle on furniture that was just going to get covered in shit and baby barf.

Not to mention that it had been shipped from overseas.

They packed up their trash and got back in the truck, heading for home.

“While I carry all of the boxes upstairs, why don’t you take a nice bath, baby?” He asked. “And then when you’re done, you can read me instructions that I won’t listen to while I figure out how to put it all together.”

Nesta shook her head, unable to stop herself from chuckling. “At least you’re honest.” 

He took her hand and pressed his lips against her knuckles. “I am that.”

Nesta had to admit that the thought of a bath sounded incredible, though, so she didn’t argue. Once they got home, Nesta was making her way, slowly, up the porch, inside, and up the stairs while Cassian got to work on gathering the boxed nursery furniture. They had a changing table, a bookshelf, a dresser, and a crib, all of which Nesta had bought from a small French boutique that had always caught her eye in Paris. When Cassian asked why they couldn’t just go into town and buy something that was already assembled, Nesta’s answer was simple: she was getting what she wanted, and she wanted the modern, white, sleek furniture she’d on her walk to work every day.

Cassian didn’t argue. 

While she was soaking in the tub, she could hear Cass moving around in the other room. She’d hear a thump as a box was dropped or something would start dragging across the floor. At one point, she heard a loud bang followed by Son of a bitch!

Nesta laughed quietly to herself and smoothed a hand over her belly, which stuck out of the water by a considerable amount. “Daddy’s getting your room put together, sweet girl, and then we’re ready for you to get here whenever you are.”

She leaned her head back against the cool, porcelain tub, sighing happy. Life had become so crazy lately, but she couldn’t find it in herself to be stressed about it.

Her phone vibrated on the small table by her head and when she leaned up to glance at it, her hand slipped on the slick surface. The table knocked against the tub and Nesta gasped as her phone fell into the water.

“Shit,” she breathed, grabbing it out and tossing it onto a nearby towel. She decided that was the end of her bath and got out drying herself off and getting dressed.

She tried to power her phone back on, knowing she shouldn’t but hoping it hadn’t been in the water long enough to do any damage. The logo popped up in the middle of the screen then it went black and began to make a whirring noise.

“Damn it.” She sighed and made her way downstairs, throwing it in a bag of rice to see if it could be salvaged. Otherwise, it looked like she’d be going into town the next day for a new phone.

Cassian was padding down the stairs a moment later, his brows furrowed. He took one look at Nesta and froze, then looked down at her phone in the bag of rice. “Your phone take a bath, too?”

Nesta’s eyes narrowed. “Maybe.” With a deep sigh, she leaned back against the counter. “I’m pissed.”

“Me too,” Cassian mumbled, throwing open the fridge and grabbing two beers. “I’ve decided that I hate France. Or at least French furniture. Fuck France and their fancy furniture.”

Nesta snorted and came up behind him, attempting to wrap her arms around his waist, but over her giant bump, she hardly managed to reach around his sides.

Cassian's body shook with silent laughter as he turned to face her. “Bump in the way?” He asked, before setting one of his beer cans on the top of it, which only made Nesta roll her eyes.

“It’s not a table,” she laughed. 

“Seems pretty convenient to me,” he shrugged, popping open a can and chugging it down. He brushed his hand over her bump, and just when he touched, baby girl kicked wildly from inside, which only made Nesta groan. 

“That either means that she loves me, or that she’s telling me to fuck off,” Cassian said, which made Nesta laugh. After he kissed her forehead, then the bump with the wild, little Nazari inside, he said, “Alright, baby mama, come upstairs and watch me struggle.”

She smirked and headed for the stairs as he tossed the empty can in the trash, opened the second and grabbed a third to take upstairs. “I already do that on the daily. What’s so different about building furniture?”

She heard him mimic her words in a mocking tone and she laughed as she topped the stairs and made her way into the nursery.

It looked like a styrofoam factory exploded. There were pieces everywhere and screws littering the little catch-all tray he pulled from his tool box. She sighed, realizing it was going to be a long night.

But when she looked out the window, into the starry, cloudless night, and screamed Cassian’s name, she forgot all about furniture and messy packing materials. She forgot all about her phone lying useless on the kitchen counter. She even, for a moment, forgot her own name.

Because the stables were catching on fire.

Cassian was instantly behind her, his eyes wide as he swore violently. “Stay here,” he ordered, and then he was gone, pulling out his phone on the way out the nursery door. 

Nesta could only stare in horror as Cassian's dark figure, only outlined by the light of the moon, sprinted down the path that led to the stables.

It was quickly going up in flames, all consuming, raging flames. Nesta didn’t understand how it could have happened.

Only moments ago, she had been down in the kitchen and the stables were fine.

Then, the thought that had her heart stopping entered her mind. It hadn’t been an accident, couldn’t have been an accident, but that didn’t make any sense. 

A slow panic crept into the pit of her stomach, she was breathing heavier, her heart beating wildly as she sobbed, holding onto her bump, the only thing that allowed her to keep her sanity.

Nesta remembered that Az had told her he’d put the horses in the pasture this morning, since it wasn’t supposed to rain, and she was thankful to whatever god whispered in his ear and told him to do so.

She needed to call someone, needed to get the fire department here. Needed to call her sisters, to call Az. Without thinking, she turned and ran from the room, carefully making her way down the stairs and into the kitchen.

Her phone wasn’t on the counter where she’d left it and she frantically looked around the kitchen. 

She plunged into near darkness as the lights went out and a frightened scream burst from Nesta, followed by a sob.

She needed Cassian.

She screamed his name, her voice full of shaking terror as she reached around, trying to find something to hold onto. Eventually, her hands found the edge of the counter and she told herself to breath, in and out. Stress wasn’t good for the baby, panic wasn’t good for the baby.

But she couldn’t help it, and as if the infant in her womb knew that something horrible was happening, she kicked wildly.

Nesta felt the need to puke but she couldn’t move, not in the darkness, not as far from the city as they were. Even as her eyes adjusted to the lack of light, she couldn’t see through the endless tears.

She tried one more time to scream Cassian’s name, but her voice came out broken, terrified, and it was no use, he was too far away.

She thought she heard a door open and close across the house and she froze. Her voice cracked as she called, “Cass?”

There was no answer.

Something was wrong, something was very, very wrong. She held onto the counter as she quickly ran for the back door - only to find that it was jammed shut, a two-by-four under the doorknob preventing it from opening.

She began to hyperventilate as she realized that this, all of this, was deliberate. The fire still blazed outside, and Nesta heard a creak from the old, wood flooring in the other room. Her blood chilled as she realized that she wasn’t alone in the house.

She ran for the front door, finding it stuck shut as well. “Please, please, please!” She sobbed, pulling on the door as hard as she could. There were unmistakably footsteps from the dining room and she cried, “Please, I’m pregnant, please.”

She hurried back to the kitchen as quietly as she could and silently opened a drawer, pulling out a large knife. She held it out, blindly as she took shuddering breaths.

Then he appeared, in the doorway, wearing a dark hoodie, the hood pulled up. He was tall, his shoulders broad, but slim.

She knew who it was.

She would be foolish to convince herself it wasn’t him. He hadn’t gotten what he wanted from her, had stalked her for months without saying a word. He didn’t come any closer.

Nesta did not lower her knife.

She tried to convince herself to look unafraid, to sound calm, but she couldn’t help the tears that continued to stream down her face.

Inside of her womb, the infant became utterly still.

Nesta swallowed and lifted her chin. “Leave,” she ordered, the demand echoing in the silence. “Or I will kill you, and I will not hesitate.”

Even as she said the words, she wasn’t convinced they were true.

Cassian couldn’t breathe. There was smoke in his eyes, it was unbearably hot, and he couldn’t stop coughing, but then he was out in the fresh night air, his back hitting the soft grass.

He knew that Az had led the horses out before he left today, had watched him take them out one by one, but he had to make sure. He had to verify that there wasn’t one down somewhere.

He found nothing, not a horse or person inside.

Except the overwhelming smell of gasoline.

This fire wasn’t natural, it was intentional. This fire was set.

He’d called Azriel before his feet had hit the landing of the stairs telling him what was happening and asking him to call the fire department. He didn’t know what else to do. It’s not like he could turn on the garden hose and put it out. With as much accelerant was used, it would burn all night.

He knew exactly who it was, he didn’t try to delude himself into anything else.

A truck door slammed and Feyre and Rhys were running toward him.

“What happened?” He asked, helping him stand. Cassian saw that his arm was covered in soot. “I have no idea. We were building baby furniture and the barn was fine, came down to the kitchen so I could grab a beer, and when Nes got back upstairs it was in a blaze.” He coughed, but continued, “Smells like a damn Mapco in there, there was so much gasoline dumped.”

“Gasoline?” Feyre asked, covering her mouth in horror.

Cassian nodded. “Tomas did this.”

Rhysand stilled as Feyre’s face paled.

“I have to go to Nesta,” she breathed, backing away from the fire, even though she wasn’t close to it. She glanced back at the dark. “Is she down at the cabin?”

Cassian’s face fell as he glanced up at the big house, then, he was sprinting.

If Tomas had done this, which Cassian was sure he did, he would still be close. He ran without stopping, without a breath, until he was up the back porch. The door was wide open, a piece of wood sitting off to the side.

Cassian was inside of the kitchen before he screamed, “Nesta?!”

There was no reply in the dark house, no movement or creak or whisper. He frantically flicked the light switch, nothing happening.

“What’s going on?” Feyre called, catching up and coming up the stairs.

Cassian opened his mouth to reply, but there was a banging from the front of the house. “Nesta?!”

He was running through the dark house immediately, finding Azriel and Elain on the other side of the front door. It was jammed closed as well. “Move!”

They did as he said and he put all of his weight into the motion as he tried to shove the door open. On the second try, it gave way.

Elain was already crying when she and Az ran in. He said, “Fire department is on the way.”

Cassian was about to say something when Rhysand’s shaking voice called out from the kitchen. “Cass… come here.”

The sound of his voice chilled Cassian’s blood. He hurried back, could see from the glow that either Feyre or Rhys was using their phone’s flashlight function.

He stumbled into the kitchen, nearly tripping over himself and ran to the other side of the island.

He froze.

One of the kitchen knives was missing from its spot in the open drawer, but it laid on the floor, just a few feet away.

There was so much blood.

She was gone. He took her. By taking her, he took them both.

Cassian heaved over the kitchen sink, everything within his stomach emptying out. He knew he was crying, but he didn’t care. He knew he was sobbing, but no one tried to comfort him. Knew no one was sure how.

Nesta was gone. His baby girl was gone. Tomas had taken them. They were gone, the only hunch of where they had gone written on the kitchen floor: a long kitchen knife and a puddle of blood. 

Cassian was ready to set the world on fire.

“I have to find her,” he breathed, he cried, as his face fell into his hands next to the kitchen sink. “I will find her.”

“Cass-.”

“No,” Cassian interrupted Rhysand before he could even say a word. “He’s out there, and he has my fucking fiancée and child!” 

But Rhysand only shook his head. “I know. I’m coming, too.”

“Me too,” Azriel agreed, then looked to Elain, who nodded.

“We'll take care of things around here,” Elain promised. “Go to the police. Now.” 

Cassian was already near the front door, just as a fire truck pulled onto the grounds. 

“I’ll go talk to them,” Feyre said, and kissed Rhysand quickly on the cheek before hurrying out the back door, Elain close behind. 

Cassian was looking around the house as he walked, even though he’d already searched the entirety of it. Rhysand and Azriel were on his heels as they exited through the front door.

Rhysand’s truck had the most room, and they knew letting Cassian drive wasn’t the smartest. The first logical place to go was the Carlson ranch, only to find it deserted. Cassian looked at the window, where he’d hurled the brick back at him.

“Where would they go?” Azriel asked, kicking something aside as they searched through his workshop.

Rhysand’s phone rang and he answered it. A quick conversation took place, and Feyre said the police needed to talk to Cassian.

They loaded back up into the truck and went back to the ranch. The police were there, along with the fire department and an ambulance, and the second Cassian’s feet hit the ground, questions were being asked.

“What happened?”

Cassian replayed the situation, from the second Nesta had noticed the fire blazing up until the point he realized they were missing. 

“You have to find her,” he told the police, after he told his story. “She’s thirty-eight weeks pregnant, nearly ready to go into labor, you have to fucking find her.”

“We will do everything we ca-.”

“Find her!” he yelled, grabbing the cop he’d been talking to by the shoulders. No one reacted, everyone stayed calm, even the cop that was being grabbed.

The young cop simply took a deep breath before saying, “We will look for her, adamantly, starting now.”

Cassian released his shoulders and nodded, and said in a quiet voice. “Thank you, just… I have to get them back.”

He looked over to where the stables once stood. Now it was a smoldering pile of wood and cinders, all that time put in, all those memories. Gone up in a blaze.

They told Cassian he couldn’t stay in their house that night, that they’d be combing through it for any evidence.

He asked a passing officer, “Will you please, please tell me if that’s her blood?”

The dark red hair, the amber eyes. He was a Vanserra, no doubt.

He nodded. “As soon as we know something, we’ll let you know.”

They let Cassian go in, accompanied by Elain, to get what he would need for the next few days. 

Elain did most of the packing, although she cried the whole time. Cassian couldn’t stay focused though, couldn’t concentrate on anything other than her.

All he could think about was Nesta and their baby, where they were, what he was doing to them.

But per the cops request, Cassian went home with Azriel and Elain to wait for further word.

But he didn’t sleep, didn’t rest.

And he wouldn’t until he found them.

Nesta, and his baby girl. 

#theranchnessian #sharacollab #snelbz tacmc collab #snacmc #nessian

[ahgasecaratfromn-city]

Ten Things I Hate About You

Pairing: Mark Lee x Reader ft. Haechan, Johnny and mention of Jeno

Words: 7.7k

Genre: Fluff, the tiniest bit of angst if you squint, college au

Warning: Tiniest bit of cursing, kissing, family issues, anxiety attack

Summary: You never had the luxury of selecting who you were going to tutor, so when you paired with the only person you disliked, Lee Mark, you couldn’t help but formulate a list of the ten things you hated about him.

A/N: Okay so, I will admit this is longer than I anticipated, my bad. Mark has been stuck in my head and this was my way of getting him out. Basically, each part is a snip bit/ scene from the day named in bold.  *This is very very very minimally edited 

“Who the hell is that?” was not the most flattering thing someone could say when being given a free tutor. Hell, it wasn’t a flattering thing to say under any circumstance. Yet, there you were, walking slowly towards your literature class’s resident idiot, Mark.

“Me, I’m Y/N,” he looked you up and down, frowning slightly before looking back at the professor. The boy seemed to always believe that his opinions mattered to anyone but himself. He was always screaming his misconstrued thoughts during class or more likely not showing up at all, and everything about him seemed to piss you off.

Maybe it was the way he spoke to people, always assuming he was in the right. Or, maybe it was the fact that he spoke period, always rambling about absolutely nothing while the class was engaged in relevant and important conversation. More likely, it was the permanent grin etched on his face, as if nothing could touch him, not even the failing grade he was receiving in this class.

“Mark, this is quite literally your last shot because there is seriously nothing else I can do for you,” you tuned out the rest of the conversation, only raising an eyebrow once you heard that Mark wouldn’t be able to pass without a certain score on the final.

“And you really should thank Y/N, there are other students she could be helping,” your eyes shot up at the mention of your name, blushing lightly as the men looked at you.

It wasn’t as if you had volunteered to tutor Mark specifically. You had been tutoring since high school and figured it was the perfect work-study job to take up. Except you didn’t choose who to tutor, only which subjects. Unfortunately, literature happened to be one of them, and Mark happened to suck at it.

“Now, both of you get out of here,” he pointed to the doorway with a slight smirk on his face as Mark trudged away clearly annoyed.

“We can work Monday, Wednesday, and Friday until the test. We can meet up at the library,” you offered, following after the boy who seemed to only quicken his pace. Jerk.

“Not Friday, that’s a busy day,” he shrugged, looking at everything but you. 

“The test is three weeks from today and judging by your, uhm previous scores, you need all the time you can get,” the boy whipped around at that statement, raising his brow at you. You didn’t understand why he seemed so shocked, you were only telling the truth.

“Fine, catch you later,” His eyes were looking behind you, focused on something else before he finally walked away from you. 

That was another thing that bothered you, he never made eye contact. It was like no one was worth the time of day to him. 

“What are you looking at,” A familiar arm snaked its way around your shoulders, pulling you into his chest as you prepared to go home. You smelled the familiar scent of aftershave and light cologne that immediately brought a smile to your face.

“You’ll never guess who I have to tutor,” you looked up at your best friend, Haechan, grinning at his confused face. Haechan had been your best friend since you were kids in the sandbox and since then, wherever he was you were likely right beside him.

“Let’s go eat, and you can tell me all about it,” He spun you around, walking you towards the exit.

-

“Maybe you’re being too hard on him,” the boy suggested, playing with his food before taking a bite. That was his habit whenever you ate together, he would mull over his food as if building a masterpiece before devouring an entire plate in a few bites.

“What do you mean?” You furrowed your brows at the statement. 

“I mean, I dunno, maybe don’t judge a book by its cover and stuff,” A slight blush rose to his cheeks as he realized how cringey what he had said was. His eyes met yours for a split second before you both let out a few synchronized chuckles.

“That was so bad, Chan,” you reached over to poke his cheek, laughing even harder as his cheeks became a deeper shade of red.

“I mean seriously, can you even name ten things you don’t like about him?” He asked, suddenly raising his brows in a challenging manner.

“Honestly, I could name ten things I hate about him,” you admitted, taking a bite of your food to punctuate your point. He only shook his head in disapproval as a response before continuing.

“Get back to me in a few weeks, I bet you’ll even end up friends. He seems nice from what I’ve heard” he sent a knowing wink your way before calling the waitress over.

As he began talking to the waitress, his question was still lingering in your mind. Ten things you hated about Mark. You already had certain attributes running around in your head, but you wondered how many more you were going to add to your list. 

          1. I hate that he is inconsiderate

           [Monday]

It was only the first day of your study sessions with Mark, and of course he was late. You were sitting at your usual table in the corner of the library, checking your phone for the nth time. He was almost an hour late and you were anything but surprised. The boy didn’t strike you as the type to keep his word.

“Hey, tutor girl,” The voice struck you from your thoughts, coming from someone you didn’t think you’d see today.

“Mark,” You nodded towards the seat across from you, opening the textbook you had sat in front of you. The boy sat silently, a smug grin painted across his face as he looked at you, eyes focused above your head. 

“I had something pop up, sorry about that man,” even his apologies were insincere and annoying. You almost wanted to toss the coffee drink in his hands into the trash, but you found it in yourself to give him the benefit of the doubt.

“Whatever, let's just get started,” He nodded in response, glancing down at your textbook with a look of uncertainty, “Did you bring your textbook?” It was then that you realized that he hadn’t brought anything with him, not even a pencil. Of course he was unprepared.

“It’s fine, use mine,” You turned yours around towards him before pointing towards a specific chapter. He nodded in response before flicking his eyes back up in your general direction.

“Today, we’ll start with the basics of analyzing a text. We’ll do ethos, pathos, and logos. It’s pretty simple but it’s gonna help with the essay portion,” You rambled on for a few minutes about the basis of arguments and speeches. His eyes were in the book but you couldn't tell if he was understanding or not. Throughout your explanation, you could see his leg shaking and his fingers tapping on the table. 

“Is there anything you want me to go over?” his eyes were still glued to the book as he looked back up at you. He was smiling, as usual, but something about the look in his eye told you that he was utterly confused. 

“No, Uh, I think I understand,” His taps became a bit more intense until he realized you were watching him and stopped. 

“It’s okay if you don't,” you said mindlessly, “I’m here to help,” as much as you weren’t a fan of Mark, you wanted him to do well. It was a part of the reason you liked tutoring. Seeing someone work hard for something, and helping them get there was one of the best feelings in the world.

“It’s fine,” he shrugged, smiling wider. You didn’t understand why he didn’t just say he needed help since it was literally your job, but you didn’t want to make him uncomfortable.

“Let’s go over it one more time, for my sake,” you went over the material again, using more examples, even some from popular music to explain the definitions he didn’t understand.

“I mean, I already understood, but I get it, more,” He said sheepishly, rubbing his face in his hand. You smiled a bit at the light pink color growing on his cheeks as you switched subjects.

“Okay, I believe you. We have some more material to cover though. Since you’re picking it up so quickly,” you smirked at the last statement, flipping the textbook in front of him to the correct page. You ignored his groan of despair, instead continuing the lesson you had planned.

You had believed after the first lesson, he might be easy to work with, but eventually, you were proved wrong. Mark was an absolute menace. His incessant taps on the table, glances around the room, random babbling, and absolute lack of interest in what you said, was pissing you off. Even the librarian had walked over to tell him to be quiet.

“Let’s take a break,” he suggested, running a hand through his hair.

“It’s been thirty minutes, Mark,” you rolled your eyes, pointing back at the sheet in front of you. He seemed to lose focus often, so you decided making him take notes might help.

“I know, but honestly my brain is full,” he whined, sending puppy dog eyes your way. Usually, you would have been able to say no, but his puckered lip and innocent eyes were beginning to sway you. 

“Fine, ten minutes,” you gave in to a smiling mark, who shot his fist up in excitement. He leaned back in his chair, looking into space with a look you couldn’t decipher. He was visibly deep in thought and you were beginning to feel very awkward as time went on.

“Tutor girl, yeah she’s tutoring me

 I wanna go home cause that’s the place to be,

Wherever I am, the vibe is nice,

Cause I’m cool like ice,” he went on and on rambling random rhymes with the biggest smile on his face. Nothing would have made you happier than saying that it sounded terrible, and while the rhymes themselves were ridiculous, his voice had a certain addictive vibe that made you want to keep listening.

He suddenly stopped, grinning at your lack of words “Shocked into silence, they say I have that effect on people,” he smirked nonchalantly eliciting a groan of annoyance from you.

“I don’t know who ‘they’ are, but your ten minutes are up,” 

“What! It’s been like three at most,” he complained, dropping his head in annoyance.

“Well, at least stop being so loud,” you rolled your eyes at the boy, who lit up once again. 

You sat in silence for a few seconds before he finally spoke, “Why are you so uptight, tutor girl?” The nickname was really beginning to bug you and so was the boy sitting across from you.

“I have a name you know,” you finally comment, ignoring his question. You were fiddling with your fingers under the table, doing anything to keep your mind off of the uncomfortable question he had asked.

“I know, Y/N,” Your eyes shot up at the mention of your name, almost giving you whiplash. 

“So, why do you call me that?” 

“It’s just a nickname,” he shrugged lightly before beginning to beatbox. He was like a child with the shortest attention span you had seen on anyone above the age of fifteen.

“It’s definitely been ten minutes now,” you pushed his paper towards him before beginning the next lesson.

            2. I hate that he really is a mystery

                 [thursday]

“I’ve never been here,” You commented, looking up at your very tall friend, Johnny opening the door for you. He was a few years older than you but you ended up bonding through the tutoring center you both worked at.

The building was a typical cafe with a warm mocha toned interior. It had bookcases lining one wall with two big grandpa chairs watching over the small tables littered around the room. The place was relatively empty, with only a few people taking up two tables near the bookshelves. It was super cozy and inviting which made you question why you hadn’t been there sooner.

“Really? A lot of people from school come here,” you only nodded in response, following the boy towards the register. 

Once inside, you immediately walked to the baked goods section, eyeing the various desserts.  

You were glad Johnny called. You had been stressed out, from your mom riding you about job applications, classes reaching finals time, tutoring Mark, etc etc. It felt like as you got older the weight on your shoulders got heavier and heavier. Everyone in your life needed you to decide on your future and you just weren’t there yet. You couldn't even decide on a pastry let alone where you wanted to be in ten years. 

“Are you ready to order?” Johnny tapped your shoulder, pulling you away from your thoughts.

“Sure,” you nodded, masking the sadness the thoughts had brought on.

You watched as the older boy tapped the service bell before peering over the counter.  “Someone’s coming,” he said, leaning back.

“Hey Johnny, what can I get ya today,” the familiar voice caused your eyes to bulge as you looked up at the owner.

“Tutor girl?” 

“Mark,” you mumbled quietly, nodding in his direction. It seemed as if your problems followed you everywhere.

“You two know each other?”Johnny asked with a grin.

Mark answered quickly “We take lit together,” you frowned at the lack of mentioning the fact that you were his tutor. 

“Ah okay,”

“How do you two know each other?” you asked, only half caring.

“We’ve been friends since his freshman year,” The older boy explained.

“Anyway, what do you want bro?” Mark asked informally, smile bright as he got ready to punch the buttons on the screen in front of him.

“I’ll have an americano, give me like two extra shots,” Johnny looked at you, waiting for your order as Mark tapped on the screen.

“Can I get an americano and a chocolate croissant,” 

“Sure,” the younger boy said absentmindedly.

Johnny reached into his wallet before you could even say anything, looking down at you with a “don’t argue” look. You were used to him paying whenever you went out together or even with other friends, even though you always put up a fight.

“Don’t worry about it,” Mark said, pushing Johnny’s card back at him, “on the house,” he explained.

“You sure?” 

“Yeah don’t worry about it,”

“Thank you,” you smiled sincerely, surprised by the gesture.

“He never pays for me,” Johnny said, chuckling as if it were an inside joke before he began looking for a seat.

He finally selected a table in the corner with two chairs beside it, right next to a window. You sat down in the chair, giving the place a once over again. Something had caught your eye this time. You watched as the dark-haired boy darted around behind the register, preparing your drinks expertly. 

“I didn’t know he worked here,” You mumbled absentmindedly, still watching the boy work.

“Yeah, he works at a restaurant too,” Johnny commented, smiling knowingly in your direction. You furrowed your brows as you looked back at him. You didn’t know he had one job, let alone two. 

“Oh,” was all you said, leaving it at that. It seemed like Mark really was a mystery to you. You knew virtually nothing about him. Something about that fact gave you an unsettling feeling that you were too stubborn to think about any further.

             3. I hate that he asks too many questions

                  [Friday]

“I don’t want to gooo,” you whined, fighting against Haechan who was currently pushing you towards the library.

“It’s only the third day. You’re such a baby,” You could practically hear his eyes roll as he stopped in front of the door. He had given you a ride to the library, as he always would if he had time.

“Am not,”

“Are too,” 

“Am not,”

“Are too,” 

“Am not,” Despite how childish it was, you literally stamped your foot, leading to a laughing fit from the two of you. 

“I can’t believe you,” he sighed, lightly shoving you.

“I’m very mature though, on a serious-,” you suddenly stopped speaking as you noticed he wasn’t looking at you anymore, “what is it?” you turned on your heel only to be met with the infamous boy himself.

“Am I too early?” he looked down at his phone with furrowed brows before looking back at you. 

“No, you’re actually on time,” you didn’t mean to come off as passive-aggressive but judging from Mark’s raised brows, you did.

You watched as Haechan reached out to shake Mark’s hand with a friendly smile and a quick mutter of his name. Mark responded by smiling awkwardly before finally reciprocating the gesture. “I’m Mark,” he introduced himself with his world-famous grin before flicking his gaze in your direction.

It was silent for a few moments before Haechan finally said something, “I’ll leave you guys to it,” he smiled one last time, sending you a mischievous look before leaving the two of you alone.

“You ready?” he asked, reaching up to grab the nape of his neck awkwardly. You quickly noticed the Jansport backpack he was sporting. It was a small thing but something about the fact that he came prepared made you feel weird.

“Uhh, yeah,” you opened the door to the library, walking quickly to the usual spot in the corner, Mark trudging quietly behind you.

“I made some flashcards for you,” You began, reaching into your bag and pulling out the index cards that you had put on a binder ring.

“Thanks,” he took the cards from your hand with a smile.

“So that guy’s your boyfriend?” he asked casually while shuffling through the cards.

You jaw all but dropped in shock as you fumbled to find the right words, “absolutely not,” you finally said, “he’s like a brother,” you clarified, waiting for his reaction.

The question made you feel uneasy coming from his mouth. It seemed random and very odd considering neither one of you had ever discussed anything personal.

“Oh, okay. You seem close,” he commented, continuing to look through the flashcards.

“We are, but uh, today lets just talk about your essay structure,” you changed the subject promptly, noticing the grin that was solidifying on his face.

Ten minutes later you could already tell he was distracted, judging by his taps on the table that were rapidly reaching a fever pitch.

He looked in your direction suddenly, “What do you want to do, tutor girl, like after graduation” 

Mark asked you the question like it was the most casual thing to say, like it was comparable to “how was your day” or “what kind of coffee do you like.” No one had really asked you that before, what you wanted to do.

“uh, I’m not sure honestly,” you were unsure of why you were even entertaining the conversation. Had it been asked a few days ago you might have just rolled your eyes and answered with the generic response you had been trained to use.

“Really? You seem like the type to plan everything a hundred steps ahead,” 

You quirked your eyebrow up in surprise “What’s that supposed to mean,” 

A light blush found its way onto his cheeks as he stumbled over his words, “No, it’s just that you, like, seem put together, like you know what you want,” he clarified.

The notion confused you to an extent. You never knew what you wanted. You had spent so long doing what people told you that you should do, that you barely even thought about what you wanted. Honestly speaking, you had only started tutoring because your mother told you it would look good on college applications. You had just so happened to actually end up enjoying it. That was the real reason you always did everything the same way and were what Mark called ‘uptight’.

“I don’t,” you admitted, “I have a hard time knowing what I want,” you trailed off quietly before asking him the same question.

“I want to pursue music, but I’m not sure if it’s practical,” he said shrugging.

“It isn’t practical,” you agreed, smiling lightly at the shocked face Mark sent you, “but if it’s something you want to do, it’s worth trying,” you finished, watching as Mark let out a breath. 

He sighed, “I wish it were that easy,” his table tapping picked up a slow pace. You nodded in agreement, realizing that you were in a similar predicament. “Well, what do you like to do?” he asked suddenly.

“You ask a lot of questions,” you replied simply, playing with the seam of your jeans.

             4. I hate that he’s unbelievably stubborn

                   [Monday]

“Mark, honestly we can just reschedule,” You watched as the boy shook his head, jumping from his previous position.

“No, I’m fine,” he shook his head a few times before gesturing in your direction for you to continue.

The boy kept nodding off throughout your lesson and showing obvious signs that he was in no way capable of learning anything. His eyes were bloodshot as if he hadn’t slept all weekend, his eye bags were at least three shades darker than usual, and most importantly he wasn’t making any noises at all. Not even his usual incessant table taps.

“Mark, you did pretty well on the practice quiz, you can take the day off,” you tried to reason with the boy whose eyes were barely open. It looked like he was sleeping with his eyes open.

“No no, y/n,” him using your real name made you feel weird and told you that he was definitely not in the right mind. “You came all the way here, let’s just start,” 

You chuckled lightly at his groggy and barely comprehensible voice as you closed your books. 

“Why are you so tired anyway? Did you work over the weekend?” you found yourself actually curious about his answer, not just asking something random for the sake of it not being awkward.

He answered simply, trying his best to hide a yawn, “yep,” 

You shook your head disapprovingly before finally speaking, “Alright this is what we’re going to do. One more practice test and then please go home and do us both a favor and go to sleep,” 

“I don’t want to be an inconvenience,” he admitted, sitting upright.

“You’re more of an inconvenience this way because I can't tutor someone who can’t even spell their own name,” I tapped on the corner of his notes, where he had written his name as “mar” leaving the last letter off.

“Fine,” he said finally, lifting his hoodie off of his head.

“You’re so god damn stubborn,” you whispered mostly to yourself.

“I can hear you, y’know,” you smiled at his remark before setting a practice test in front of him.

               5. I hate that he sees what no one else does

                     [Friday]

“Yes, mom,” you paused for a moment, waiting for your mother’s usual rant about how you never did anything right, and how at your age she was already starting her own business, yada yada, the usual. 

“I know,” pause, “I sent them out last week, remember?” pause, “I will,”

“Hey, tutor girl,” Mark greeted, taking his usual seat in front of you. He had a concerned look on his face as he noticed you were on the phone having an unpleasant conversation.

You pulled the phone away from your face, “I’ll be right back,” you shot him a small generic smile before walking outside of the building.

“Y/N if you don’t get it together, I’m going to-” your mother’s voice could be heard despite the fact that you had pulled the phone away from your face.

“I’m in the middle of a tutoring session, I have to call you back later,” you interrupted, pressing the hang-up button soon after.

You took a few long breaths before plastering a smile onto your face and walking back inside the building. You could feel Mark’s eyes on you as you walked towards him trying your best to keep up a strong facade.

“Are you okay,” the concern in his voice as you looked at him almost wiped the smile off of your face.

“I’m fine, let’s get started,”

“It’s okay if you’re not. You can tell me about it,” he paused for a few moments, tapping on the table as he usually did, “I can tell you’re you aren’t,” 

“It’s nothing, let’s just start,” you waved your hand in dismissal.

“If that’s what you want,” he phrased it more like a question than a statement.

“So, today let’s talk about how point of view affects the entire story,” you began your explanation, the fake smile long gone as you gave examples from the required reading. Mark seemed only half interested in what you were saying, which was usually normal, except today you could feel his eyes glued to your face while yours were in the book as you gestured to certain sentences. 

You were not in the mood for his antics and as time passed he was truly starting to bug you. “What!? What are you looking at?” you whisper-yelled in his direction. You found yourself feeling immediately guilty as the boy looked at you in complete and utter shock. His lips had slightly parted into an ‘o’ shape and his brows were slightly raised. His cheeks had even begun turning into a deep red.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t-” he mumbled, trailing off at the end.

You raised your hand to your head, feeling a headache coming on, “no, I’m sorry. Honestly, I’m a little stressed out,” you admitted.

“It’s okay, you can talk to me about it. Like, if you want,” he looked at you expectantly, with a concerned expression adorning his face.

“It’s just my mom. She has a lot of expectations for me. It’s stressful sometimes, y’know,” he nodded at your words, waiting for you to continue, “It’s overwhelming. I don’t really know what to do. It’s like she’s been controlling my life for so long that I don’t even know what I want to do without her telling me,” you finished. 

It felt good letting it all out, and for some reason, you felt comfortable telling Mark about it. He seemed to really listen to you, like he actually cared. 

“Have you ever talked to her about it?” he asked.

“No, she’s not the best listener,” he nodded again.

“Then I think right now all you can do is try to figure out what you actually want for yourself. Like what’s something you really want to do? Like bucket list stuff,” he asked with wide eyes.

“I dunno, maybe a road trip,” you said the first thing that came to mind, mentally slapping yourself at how lame the answer was. “I’ve never really been anywhere,” you explained simply. “Kind of lame,”

He shook his head, “It's not lame if it’s something you want.” You only nodded in response.

“What you want is important, Y/N. Even if you don't know exactly what that is yet.”

               6. I hate that he is everywhere

                     [monday]

“It’s not my fault,” Haechan rolled his eyes at your shocked expression as he spoke.

“Haechan,” you said slowly, “I really shouldn’t have to explain it to you,” you shook your head in his direction. 

You were walking down the main commons area in your school, killing time before your next class.

“If someone says to you, hey! Can I borrow your hanger, how am I supposed to guess that they’ll-” he stopped speaking suddenly, a smile breaking out on his face, “look there’s your boy,” he nodded slightly in the direction ahead of you.

You looked up, almost immediately spotting Mark. He was smiling brightly as he spoke to a girl beside him. She looked to be familiar, maybe from the year below you. You watched as they laughed together, heads falling back as if they were in a movie. You had to admit, they made a cute couple.

“He’s not my boy,” you shoved your friend with light force, ignoring the tight feeling in your chest.

“Don’t worry, pretty sure she’s dating Jeno. Actually no, I’m super sure, every time I see them, they’re sucking face,” he grimaces at the notion, furrowing his brows tightly as if remembering the image vividly.

You shrugged your shoulders nonchalantly, “Why would I worry?”

“Okay, y/n,” he matched your expression, shrugging in the same way you did.

            7. I hate that his car smells just like him

                   [Tuesday]

“No it’s fine, I’ll just find a way home,” you glanced at Mark, whose eyes were on you already. “No, Haechan don’t worry about it. I’ll text you later,” you hung the phone up and looked up at the boy ahead of you.

After you opened up to Mark the previous week, he had begun taking a seat next to you in class. It seemed like you had become friends, or acquaintances at least. That felt weird to even think about. You and Mark were friends? No, acquaintances, you were just acquaintances. 

“Everything okay?” he asked, gathering his belongings.

“Yea, I just have to walk home,” you answered absentmindedly before standing.

“I can, like, give you a ride,” he offered nonchalantly, standing in front of you.

“You drive?”

He smirked at the question, “just got a new car,” 

“Okay then, if it’s no trouble,” you agreed, nodding at him. It was super weird how comfortable you were around him now. There were still things you very much disliked about him, but getting to know him had shown you that there were some things you hadn’t known at all.

“Alright,” he smiled in your general direction before leading the way. You had grown used to his quick pace, keeping up with ease now. 

“It’s nice right,” he pats the old black car lightly, as if he was afraid something would fall off. 

“Super nice,” you agreed with a grin.

You both walked to your respective sides and slid into your seats quietly. You were immediately hit with the smell of watermelon air freshener and the cologne Mark usually wore. 

“You can put your address in,” he pointed to the GPS on the car and you promptly typed it in.

There was a lasting awkward silence after that, Mark focusing diligently on driving while you were focused on counting the red cars that went by. You wondered how long it would take for someone to say something. Eventually, Mark just put on the radio, hoping to fill the silence.

He winced slightly at the country song that began playing, “You wanna hear one of my songs,” he said suddenly, a small smile accompanying his words.

“Sure,” you were actually curious, seeing as you had never heard him rap seriously, only hearing his mumbles when he was bored.

“Press the acronym one,” he said, handing you his phone, eyes still trained on the road. It was almost comical how focused he was while driving whereas during tutoring sessions he was always distracted.

“Que-tay, uhm, qwe-ta,” you tried pronouncing the acronym, eliciting a laughing fit from Mark. His laugh was so innocent you couldn’t help but smile along even though you didn’t know what was so funny.

“Key-tah,” he finally said with a smile.

“Ah,” you nodded, turning the volume up.

The song started off subtly, with a chill beat that matched the atmosphere in the car. You could see Mark’s light blush peeking from your peripheral as the song went on. By the time the second verse began, Mark was humming along before finally fully rapping alongside himself. Again, you were reminded of how addictive his voice was. 

He seemed so passionate at that moment, so confident. He was showing a side to himself that you hadn’t seen before. Someone so comfortable where he was. Someone truly in their element.

“I get why you want to do music,” you commented as the song ended.

“Why?” 

“You love it. I can tell. It’s like more than just a career for you, it’s a part of you,” you said matter of factly. The statement confused you to some degree. You had never seen someone so comfortable in their element. You hated to admit it but you were even a little jealous.

He smiled at that notion, “It is a part of me. Ever since I was young, my dad taught me how to play guitar and that really just jump started my love for it.” You nodded in understanding before picking a random Frank Ocean song on his playlist. 

“You should come to my showcase next week, I just got offered a spot today,” he said suddenly. You were completely shocked that he had asked you. 

“You can bring your friend, I think our whole class is going. It’s supposed to be an end of finals celebration” ah, everyone was going. 

“Okay,” you accepted simply, heat rushing to your cheeks for an unknown reason.

“just put your number in my phone, I’ll send the details later,”

The car ride from then on was more comfortable. What was once an awkward silence had become a relaxed atmosphere where you and Mark would chat about random things like the music on his playlist or the watermelon screensaver on his phone. 

              8.  I hate that he thinks can pull one over on me

                    [wednesday]

 “tutor girl, what’s up?” Mark crashed down into the seat in front of you, setting down a drink carrier from his cafe and a bag.

“Hi, Mark,” you greeted with a smile, shaking your head at his noisy entrance.

“Here you go,” he pushed an Iced Americano in your direction, following with the white bag.

“Oh, thank you, you didn’t have to get me anything,” you watched the smile on his face widen as he shook his head.

“It’s the least I could I could do for my favorite tutor,” your felt your cheeks get hot until you remembered one very important detail.

“I’m your only tutor, and you still have to take the full practice test,” you said sternly, putting the straw in the coffee quickly.

“Come on,” he whined out before starting a whole argumentative speech about how the practice tests were annoying.

               9. I hate that he doubts himself

                    [thursday]

“I mean, and I say this with full respect,” Mark began, “I truly don’t think I’m going to do that well,” he admitted, toying with the drawstring of his hoodie.

“Mark, just because you say with full respect, doesn’t make it more respectful,” you said with a grin, “but seriously, you’ve been doing so well on your practice quizzes. Over 60% every time, which is way better than what we started with,” you admitted, wincing a bit at the last statement you let slip out.

“Still, that’s not a passing grade,” he shrugged, utterly defeated as he picked up the essay rubric from his desk. His usual brighter than the sun smile had disappeared, leaving you feeling uncomfortably cold.

“Honestly your lack of trust in my tutoring skills is beginning to annoy me,” 

“No, dude, I trust you,” your eyes flew to him at that statement. He was still pondering over the paper in front of him as he continued, “I just feel like I suck at this stupid subject,” he threw the paper back onto the table at that statement.

You found yourself giving a pep talk without even a second thought “No, you don’t. You’re caught on quickly. You’re so smart but you need to stop second-guessing yourself. You’re going to do well. Even better than well because you have my help.”

“Thanks, tutor girl. I appreciate you,” you could tell he was sincere because he had met your eyes, even if just for a split second. It was the first time he had ever looked you in your eyes and it was making you feel things.

“I’m serious though, you are way smarter than you give yourself credit for, and you should know that you are no matter what score you get on this stupid test,” you finish, grinning as the smile returned on his face.

“Okay,” he nodded lightly as he stood waiting for you to join him.

You chuckled lightly at the boy as you looked up at him, “What is it, Mark?” he had a sheepish look on his face as if he was nervous about something other than the obvious.

“uhm well,” He was looking intently at you when you didn’t notice, waiting for any signs that he was annoying you.

“Actually, there’s something I was going to ask you,” a light blush found its way onto his cheeks as he spoke. You nodded in his direction waiting for whatever he had to say, looking up to find his eyes on you. 

At that moment you noticed almost like for the first time how pretty his eyes were. They were so doe-like and innocent, you couldn’t stop staring. 

To outsiders, you both would have seemed very odd as you stood just staring at each other. 

“Well, I-”

“Y/N, hurry- oh shoot, sorry,” Haechan’s voice rang from the doorway, pulling you out of whatever trance you had been in.

“I’m almost done,” you widened your eyes in Haechan’s direction for emphasis, looking back at Mark who had already looked away. “What were you saying, Mark?”

He smiled lightly for a moment, “Don’t worry about it. It’s nothing important,”

You furrowed your brows lightly, “You sure.”

“Yeah, we’ll talk later,” 

              10. I hate that I don’t hate him

                   [Friday]

“I told you so,” Haechan was grinning ear to ear as he joined you on your walk to class.

“I could name ten things I hate about him, yeah right,” He laughed to himself suddenly, mocking your old statement. “Imagine my shock seeing your face a few inches away from his. I should’ve taken a picture.”

“Shut up,” you pushed him lightly, finally reaching the door to the lit class.

“I’ll see you afterwards, good luck,” he said, sending you a final wave before walking away.

It was the test date and you were sure that Mark was nervous. As soon as you got into the room, you noticed his fingers tapping violently on the desk, his single mechanical pencil clattering as it jumped around. He was there early, earlier than you were and that was saying something. The room was empty except for the two of you, even despite you being only about fifteen minutes early.

“Mark,” you had to call his name a second time to get his attention. “Mark, relax,” you took the seat next to him and swiftly grabbed his chattering hand in your own. You watched as his leg began bouncing up and down as if it were mocking the pencil’s previous movement, “Mark, breathe,” his eyes were glued to something in the distance, his breath labored.

“Shit, I’m not prepared,” he muttered quietly, “I should have done another quiz,” he breathed out. “and I can’t fucking breathe,” he clenched his brows at the last statement, his breathing coming out as quick huffs.

“Look at me, Mark,” you reached up to turn his chin towards you. “I think you’re having an anxiety attack,” you said the words slowly, hoping to not make it any worse.

“You have to breathe, I’m right here and I’m not going to let go of you,” you squeezed lightly on his hand to emphasize your words.

“You’ve studied and studied. You’ve worked hard. You’re going to do well. All you have to do now is relax and breathe. In and out,” his eyes were glued to yours before he finally closed them altogether and began taking slow deep breaths.

“I’m here with you, and we’re both going to destroy this thing,” he nodded slowly at your words, opening them a few minutes later as his breathing reached a normal pace and his leg stopped bouncing. 

You released his hand in the next second, sending him a small smile.

“I’m glad you’re with me,” was the last thing he said before people began filing into the room.

[Monday]

“I know what you’ve all been waiting for. I have your graded finals,” Your professor had waited until the end of the day to finally share the news, leaving everyone anxious.

It was utterly silent as he passed them around, only the sound of him saying a quick “see me after class,” to Mark, who immediately winced at the statement. You couldn’t help but furrow your brows in confusion, noticing that Mark hadn’t received his test back.

“Class is dismissed,” he pointed towards the doorway after delivering the final test, smiling lightly at the people whose arms were thrown up in celebration.

Your score wasn’t that big of a surprise, you had gotten what was expected of you. You were way more interested in Mark. So you decided to wait outside the door, watching as students filed out.

It seemed like hours had passed while you were waiting for him. You mindlessly scrolled through your phone, completely missing the sounds of someone walking up to you, that someone being Mark himself.

You yelped in surprise as you were lifted off of your feet and spun around in the air.

“What the hell,” was all you said as the boy set you down.

“Y/N, Look!” he exclaimed, handing you the test with a huge eighty-five percent scribbled in red on the top right corner of the sheet.

“Mark, I told you, you could do it,” you hugged the smiling boy, grinning brightly at him.

“I couldn’t have without you, Y/N,” the sincerity in his eyes as they bore into your own was making you melt on the spot. 

“No more tutor girl?” you asked, grin never falling.

“You’ll always be tutor girl but, uh,” he paused as if deep in thought for a moment, “I really like spending time with you. I think it will be weird not seeing you all the time,” you nodded in agreement, realizing that the semester had ended, meaning it was summer break.

“Well, we’re friends now right. We can still hang out,” you offered, watching as the boy looked down with a look you couldn’t decipher.

“Um, I know we’re friends, but,” he stepped a little closer to you, “I was wondering like, y’know if it’s possible, if you maybe wanna,” he continued to stumble over his words. You couldn’t help but smile at his very awkward, very cute way of asking you what you already knew he was getting at.

“Mark, do you want to go out sometime,” you finally blurted, chuckling at his pink face. 

“Yes, I would like that a lot,” he said nodding.

“I don’t know if you knew but uhm, I mean it was before, but basically um, I’m sorry I judged you before, Mark,” you apologized suddenly watching as he shook his head in dismissal. It had been on your mind for a while even despite him not knowing.

“I knew you felt that way before. That’s kind of why I was so like reluctant to have you as my tutor,” he grabbed your hand and squeezed lightly.

“That’s why you were so weird the day he told us,” you nodded in understanding remembering the look Mark gave you when you were first introduced, as if you spat in his drink. In his defense you deserved it.

“Honestly, yeah,” he confessed, “but in your defense, I am kind of an acquired taste,” 

“That’s not an excuse. I was an idiot,” you admitted, “Mark, you’re amazing,” he smiled lightly at your last statement, taking the time to just look at you. His brown eyes were like a pool, drawing you in until you sank, unable to stop staring.

He reached out, cupping your cheek with his hand before speaking, “Can I kiss you?”

You only nodded in response, waiting patiently as he lowered his head towards your face until he was less than a centimeter away. It felt like hours had passed until his lips grazed yours, allowing a tingling sensation to move throughout your body.

 In a flash, your arms were around his neck and he was holding onto you delicately, like you would break if he was too rough. He tasted like a mixture of mint and watermelon gum. His warm foresty and floral scent was filling your senses, actively intoxicating you as his lips moved against yours rhythmically. The kiss was greater than any apology you could have given him since it was full of the emotion you couldn’t fully articulate. Mark was fully focused on you in the moment, lips moving against yours like a magnet.

“I told you to become friends, not make out in public,” you heard Haechan’s voice interrupt, causing you to immediately pull away from the boy in front of you. You couldn’t help but laugh uncontrollably at Haechan's mortified face and Mark’s intense blush.

“Sorry,” Mark muttered quietly, smiling as he looked down at you.

Haechan walked towards the older boy, looping a hand around his shoulder as he spoke, “Y’know, I always saw this coming. She said she didn’t like you, but a best friend always knows,” you could only shake your head as Mark looked back at you as if asking for help. You could hear Haechan going on and on about his premonitions as you trailed behind the two boys, feeling a sense of happiness you hadn’t felt in a long time. 

Mark was someone you could never see yourself with. He was loud, always distracted, obnoxious, stubborn, and mysterious. But he was also kind, deliberate, hard-working, smart, infectiously positive, and beautiful. You didn’t know when the thought struck you, but as you looked up at the brunette boy walking ahead you finally knew what you wanted. You wanted him by your side for as long as possible.

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