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#this has been sitting in my drafts for awhile and I figured why not
underthetree845 · 4 months
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Alrighty April, can you write a yandere! Chuuya x reader fanfic (hcs or oneshots whatevers easier) where reader is single (More of a hopeless romantic type thing) and she's talking and laughing with Dazai? Maybe Dazai will hold your hand or something and he snaps. Maybe he could like kidnap you, or kill dazai, or something? Idk, I'm just trying to give you ideas, do whatever you want with this request :)
Hey! I know this took me awhile to answer, I just had some other things I needed to push out of my drafts first, so I do apologize :') I'm going to tag you just to make sure you see this: @a-random-weeb And please let me know what you think!
(As previously stated) I have never written yandere content before, and I don't feel comfortable writing anything too dark, so I did my best with this. It might come off as a little more jealous/possessive, but I stuck to the prompt.
Dogs Are Better
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Chuuya/Reader (oneshot request)
Cws:  gn! reader, jealousy, yandere if you squint, reader is a dog person (it makes sense later I promise), dazai getting beat up (by chuuya), possessive! chuuya, unhealthy possessiveness, chuuya does genuinely care, implications of stalking, alcohol, drinking, slightly tipsy reader, reader gets a hangover, overly trusting reader, kind of kidnapping? 
About 2.7k words
Summary: Chuuya is already overly protective of you, how would he react if someone threatened to take you away?
A/n: Please note, I did my best to altar their roles and limitations to fit the prompt, but this is not necessarily how I ultimately view Dazai and Chuuya as characters! Also- in case it's unclear- Dolcetto is a type of red wine.
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Chuuya’s gloved hand grips his drink tighter. The bartender has been growing worried that it will just shatter under the pressure.
It’s been over an hour and you haven’t stopped encouraging Dazai with that stupid grin on your face. It’s nothing like the one you give him, the one he lives to protect. 
You’ve got a heart that longs to be loved, one Chuuya wants to nurture. How can he make you understand that you don’t need to jump around from person to person to receive compliments and feel validated? Why can’t you see that he’d be more than enough?
With a slam of glass down on the polished wood, Chuuya slides off his barstool and makes his way around to where you and Dazai are seated. 
-
It was a stormy day, but nonetheless, Chuuya decided to make a run to the little shop one block from his place. He was set on picking up some appetizers that would go well with the red Dolcetto sitting in his kitchen cabinet. 
Leather shoes splashed in the puddles along the sidewalk, rain pittered against the black of his coat and umbrella. He held the plastic bag of gouda and roasted turkey slices with one hand, doubling up on the knot in hopes of preventing any water from leaking in. The shade of his hair was the only reason he didn’t blend into the bleary background. The city was a monotone watercolor painting; dozens of droplets falling from the sky, lights flickering on as afternoon turned into evening, the usual rush hour bustle muffled by the cold rain of the murky clouds above. 
Anyone would’ve paused for a moment if they found a soaking figure crouched down on the sidewalk. Anyone would’ve tapped them with their foot to see if they needed help. Anyone’s heart would’ve melted a little when they laid eyes on the shivering puppy the person had been shielding from the rain. Anyone’s heart would’ve thumped a little harder making eye contact with you for the first time. Not just anyone deserved to. 
When you refused to take the umbrella and leave Chuuya without one, a compromise was made that he would walk you home; somehow, that resulted with him sitting on your bathroom floor, caring for a wet puppy, and trying to ignore the way his heart skipped a beat with every laugh that spilled from your lips. 
What kind of person halts everything, soaks themself to the bone for some random dog, and lets the first stranger to offer them an umbrella into their apartment? He began to question whether it was the puppy or you who needed more protection. 
The redhead found himself wandering into your city block more often. He noticed your favorite coffee shop, and decided that it had to be added to his routine. Lovely little coincidences slowly allowed him to engrain himself into your everyday life. It was all for your own good, after all. 
Someone getting a little too friendly on the metro? That same man’s body was found beaten half to death in an alleyway the next morning. No evidence, no fingerprints; the perpetrator used gloves. 
Crying because of the things your friends say behind your back? Chuuya isn’t hesitating to accidentally stumble upon your hiding spot and offer his shoulder to lean on. 
On a particularly windy day, his hat blew off, and you just happened to be nearby to catch it. 
It had to be some form of fate. He was meant to find you and you were meant to be with him. 
Such a precious creature you turned out to be; he found it sad that no one had ever bothered to get to know you properly. To understand you. Not like he had. 
You were a drug to his mind every waking second and every night as he laid awake staring at the ceiling, arms crossed behind his head.
Everything slid into place so naturally. He messaged you good morning and you followed through with a goodnight. On the best days, he walked back through his front door unable to wipe the lovesick grin from his face. 
His presence gave you something solid to fall back on, it was nice. 
He should’ve known it could only last for so long. 
-
Some people are like parasites. They squirm around their miserable existence until they can find something lively to latch onto. They use it to fill their own void, draining the other being of its life and leaving it behind once they’ve had their fill. 
“Oh, Chibi! Didn’t expect to see you here,~” the brunette chimes. Liar. 
You spin around on your barstool and a smile lights your eyes up when your gaze lands on the redhead. 
“Y/n-san and I were just sharing a drink. Do you two know each other?” Bastard. 
“Chuu, it’s good to see you,” your voice melts in his ears. “Do you want to join us?” 
“I don’t know why you didn’t introduce me sooner,” a grin spreads across Dazai’s face, “They’re an absolute treat.” He swirls the sake around in his cup before raising the glass to his lips. Parasite. 
“Yeah, I’ll join you,” Chuuya replies politely, taking the seat to your right while Dazai is on your left. 
“So how do you and Dazai know each other?” you question innocently. The two men make eye contact for a brief, unnoticeable moment. 
“Work,” they both reply in unison. “We dealt a lot with trades between organizations,” Chuuya explains.
“Many jobs here and there,” Dazai adds. You nod your head in understanding. 
“But enough about us!” a fox-like grin crawls up onto Dazai’s face, “I’ve barely gotten to know you yet.” 
“I don’t think there’s much to talk about,” you reply with a humble smile. 
Chuuya sighs and turns to the bartender to order another drink. If only he could make you understand. 
“Nonsense!” Dazai rests his chin in the palm of his hand, “Why don’t we play a little game?” 
“Okay,” you nod with interest. “It’s either or,” he continues with a mischievous glint in his eyes, “First question: Tall men or short men?” Chuuya chokes on his whisky. “Hmm,” you tap your chin in thought, “I don’t think height matters much to me.” 
“Interesting,” Dazai folds his arms in front of his chest. Chuuya glares. You’re treading on thin ice, Mackerel. 
“Next question: Do you think dark eyes or light eyes are prettier?” Dazai tilts his head, you stay silent. “Sorry, but I don’t think I want to be asked these types of questions,” you state politely, Chuuya has to hold back his smirk. “Ah, I see, I do apologize,” Dazai leans back, “I’ll change the topic. Cats or dogs?” He’s not worth starting a bar fight over, Chuuya internally screams, he's not worth it, he's not worth it, he’s not worth it. 
“Well, that’s a tough one,” you hum, tracing your finger over the rim of your glass, “but I’d have to say dogs.” Chuuya’s ears perk up. “They’re so protective and loyal, and I’ve never met one that wanted to sink its teeth into me just because it can.” “I see,” Dazai smiles slyly, narrowing his eyes. 
Chuuya sighs. You shouldn’t be wasting your breath on such a snake. Can’t you tell he’s done this a million times? The way his lips move, when his finger slips under his glass to set it down softly, how his eyes trace over your form like a wolf studying its prey. 
“What about you, Chuu?” your voice breaks him out of his trance. He blinks at you a few times before raising his eyebrow, your giggle practically squeezes at his heart. 
“Do you want to take some tequila shots with us?” you tilt your head. Chuuya raises an eyebrow. “Tequila? You don’t drink very often though,” he furrows his eyebrows in concern, “Tequila is pretty strong, you’ll end up with a shitty hangover.” 
“Dazai says he can have a few shots without getting too tipsy though,” you reply. Dazai sits with a conceited smile. 
Of course he can, that man’s alcohol tolerance is concerningly high. 
“Fine, but just one,” Chuuya’s tone is stern, “two at most. You’ve already had three drinks.” 
“I’m not even tipsy though,” you pout softly. Dazai chuckles as he raises his hand to call the bartender over.  
It was clear from the start that you had no intention of heeding Chuuya’s advice. After two shots, you were giggling all over yourself and Chuuya had to keep a hand on your back to prevent you from falling off your barstool. “No, Y/n, give that back, hey! Dammit!” Chuuya attempts to swipe the glass away, but you’re just fast enough to steal his shot and throw another mouthful of tequila down the back of your throat. 
“Mm!” you beam with satisfaction, “I told you Chuu, I’m fine.” The warm-toned lights of the bar seem to complement the hazy flush of your cheeks that bleeds into your smile. He adores the way you lean into him so trustingly. He’d probably have a smile similar to your own creeping up into his cheeks if it weren’t for the dark-eyed lynx sitting just to your left.
“They told you ‘Chuu,’ they’re fine,” Dazai’s lips form a smirk, one Chuuya wants so badly to smack off his face. He glares for a moment, but reminds himself of who his top priority is. He leads you to your feet by your forearms and catches you when you fail to hold yourself up. “Y/n, I’m going to take you home now, okay?” Chuuya’s voice is gentle, he slings your arm around his shoulder and turns to walk out the door. You look over at Chuuya and suddenly gasp, “We’re going somewhere? Where?” 
“I’m taking you home, Y/n.” “Come on Chuuya, you’re really not willing to share?” Dazai calls loudly. 
Chuuya pushes down the feeling boiling under his skin for your sake. You’re trusting him to get you home safely- admittedly your judgment may be a bit skewed at the moment- but still. 
“What’s so special about them, huh?” Dazai prods and Chuuya’s grip on you tightens. You’ll never get to know. You don’t deserve to. That’s my right, this is my person. Who the hell do you think you are? 
“I may just have to steal them away and find out for myself,~” Dazai smirks and Chuuya freezes. It’s only for a brief moment. He continues walking, but a dark cloud settles around his chest and in his mind. 
-
“I’ll be right back,” Chuuya reassures you as he buckles you into the passenger seat of his car, “It’ll take two minutes, I promise.” “Where’re you going?” you look at him with a half-lidded stare, fingers still gripping the edge of his sleeve. “The bar has a bug problem,” he smiles deeply, “I’m going to go help them sort some things out.” 
-
Dazai hadn't turned his head back after Chuuya’s fist came into contact with his cheek, the beginning of a bruise certainly beginning to form where he was hit. “Ouch,” Dazai keeps his voice steady, and his eyebrows lowered. He rests his hands in his pockets, ignoring the stinging pain in his back from being slammed against the wall in the alleyway out back of the bar. “I said, do you understand me, Dazai?” Chuuya grits his teeth, clenching his fist as he uses every drop of his remaining willpower to not crack Dazai’s head open like an egg. He takes one step closer. 
“You really feel that threatened?” Dazai laughs lightly, “Aren’t I allowed to take an interest? They really are a very intriguing pers-!” Dazai grunts and his chest concaves as he feels the wind being knocked from his lungs. He looks up, back flat against the ground, Chuuya’s heel digging into his chest. “Something isn’t clicking in that brain of yours, so let me spell it out,” the mafioso glares, his frame silhouetted by the moon. “Y/n doesn’t need people like you in their life. The world doesn’t deserve them, I have to protect them from it. There’s no one else who can, don’t stick your nose where you don’t belong.” Chuuya takes a step back, allowing Dazai to sit up before turning on his heel to return to where you wait. Dazai’s scoff makes him freeze. “Shouldn’t that be something Y/n decides for themself?” Dazai’s voice echos, Chuuya doesn’t even need to turn around to see the haughty smirk on Dazai’s face. 
In a split second, Chuuya’s heel comes into contact with Dazai’s other cheek, knocking the man roughly to the ground for a second time. “Tch, I don’t know why I even bother with you,” Chuuya snarls. Dazai stays low until his ex-partner walks around the corner and out of sight. 
Dazai sits up and the corners of his mouth curl into a grin. He wipes blood from his bottom lip and chuckles deeply. “Damn, Chibi.” 
-
Your mind keeps slipping you in and out of consciousness. One moment, you’re riding next to Chuuya in his car. He’s gripping the steering wheel tightly. The next, you’re in his arms, and he’s carrying you into a strange house. You accept whatever he puts in your mouth, swallowing it with the water he holds up to your lips. 
You awake with a jolt, immediately laying back down when a sharp pain shoots through your head. You groan slightly, rubbing your eyes and trying to adjust to the morning sunlight. The first thing you notice is that you are still wearing your clothes from last night. The second thing you notice is that your shoes and jacket have been removed and placed on a chair next to the bed, and there’s a bottle of hangover medicine sitting on the nightstand to your left. The third thing you notice is that wherever you appear to have spent the night is definitely not your house. Ignoring the ache in your head, you throw the covers off and stand up cautiously. There’s something indistinctly familiar about the room’s scent, but you shake it off. 
Creaking the door open, you observe the wood furnishings and step hesitantly into the hallway. Something in the next room smells heavenly- like a hearty broth. You can hear someone shuffling around. You tiptoe forward, but any apprehension churning in your stomach dissipates as soon as you lay eyes on the familiar head of red hair standing in the kitchen. 
“Chuu?” you crinkle your expression in confusion. He smiles slightly and places a wooden spoon over the pot on the stove before looking up at you. “Y/n,” he turns down the heat and walks over to you, “How are you? Do you have much of a headache? I hope the medication helped.” 
“Yeah, it’s not that bad…” you reply, scanning your eyes around the room, “is this your house?” “Mhm,” he replies, brushing his thumb over your cheek, “Well, our house now. You take a half step back. “What do you mean?” you question, “You know where I live, I have my own home.” Chuuya just shakes his head. “That isn’t going to work anymore,” he sighs, “I did a lot of thinking last night. Trust me, this is what’s best for you.”  A shiver runs up your spine. The look in his eyes is so… impassive, nothing like the man you know. “What are you saying?” you shake your head slightly, “What, are you going to just keep me here against my will?”  Chuuya steps forward again, his eyes boring into your own. “You won’t mind after a while,” he replies, taking one of your hands in his and brushing his thumb over your knuckles, “I’ll give you a good life, I promise.” You try to pull your hand away but Chuuya grips it tighter. You’re both silent for a moment, the air in the room seems to still. “Chuuya, you’re scaring me,” your voice wavers slightly. 
An invisible force pulls you closer to the man, you stumble into his chest and he catches you by the waist, using his other hand to cup your cheek. A cold, thick sense of dread is present in the back of your mind, but you’re having trouble focusing on anything except his gaze. For a moment, his eyes soften. He looks at you tenderly, like the Chuuya you thought you knew. “Don’t worry, I won’t let anything happen to you,” he speaks closely. You find yourself unable to move as he presses lips against your own, holding you close as if you could break at any moment. 
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A/n: I realized while writing this that this is actually the first time I've put a kiss into my writing! I am also open to feedback since I don't try to write this type of character/relationship very often. Thank you for reading!
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aemiron-main · 1 year
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oh im going insane
im finishing up an analysis that involves parallels that show owens likely being a father figure to henry & then i remembered. ‘peter’s school projects’. and THEN it hit me like a brick. so, i hadnt mentioned this yet but i have an analysis rn sitting in my drafts about how some of the unused costuming pieces in young henry’s wardrobe room remind me of vintage boys school uniform shirts & how the bts pics have henry wearing a pair of black leather shoes (which would be uniform code)  and just some other stuff and long story short i think there was a school uniform in his wardrobe. but it confused me bc like YES hawkins in the 50s could have had a school uniform but smthn still wasnt clicking bc why wouldnt they show him wearing the uniform during any of his hawkins scenes then?  but. if henry was living with owens and his wife......... in nevada... ruth, nevada..... a different school...... a uniform......... and the fact that nancy’s fake name at pennhurst is RUTH and the discussion about petey and summer camp happens at pennhurst.... ‘peter/petey’ and ‘ruth’ tied together AGAIN.  and owens. owens is tied to the theme of bullying because he gets angela’s charges against el dropped.  long story short i think there’s a chance henry went to school in ruth and was living with owens and got bullied at school (bc yknow. outcast weird kid) and that’s why owens is tied to the bullying imagery w angela.  ‘peter’s school projects’ -> whenever we see henry drawing in the creel house, save for the one scene in victor’s flashback where henry’s sitting at the couch, henry is drawing in his school binder, with school supplies, on lined paper, and one of his school binders even has some words written on the side of it that i need to go back and look at.  and its been stumping me like. we KNOW henry made it to the lab right after the creel murders. so when would he be at owens’ house. but then it hit me. that other analysis im working on. it also talks about henry very very likely escaping from the lab at some point and being brought back. if henry escaped. and was taken in by owens. and then the lab eventually located henry again/brenner realized henry was with owens.... this would explain why we dont see owens at the lab at all in 1979 & why he doesnt come back to the lab until s2,  until after brenner’s ‘death’ in s1. because he would have double-crossed brenner. and brenner wouldn’t have wanted him influencing henry/helping him escape again.  and there’s those mike and owens parallels i need to make a writeup on.... mike, who took in a child who escaped from the lab. owens, who likely did the same thing. mike, who dressed el up to take her to the school. owens, sending henry to school in a uniform.  this post is like. half coherent i promise i have actual evidence LMAO im gonna go work on the writeup about it bc. hm
especially considering the costuming parallels between owens vs victor creel.. both of them being father figures to henry...  smthn smthn owens-obi wan parallels (which is an analysis in and of itself) smthn smthn ‘my allegiance lies to the republic, anakin- to democracy’ smthn smthn that but its owens with the lab smthn smthn brenner either finding henry or owens GIVING henry back to the lab after some sort of incident... which is inch resting when we think about the idea of henry being bullied & how el hit angela and gave her an injury just like the one that brenner got from henry in 1979... henry using his powers against one of the kids bullying him..........  AND OK INSANE ERA TIME 
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This is said to OWENS, at OWENS’ house. and henry was the attacker so henry = ghost.  why is this relevant? well. that bts pic i posted awhile back that i said might be unused footage of henry in a ghost costume as a kid..... and el with hopper in the cabin, dressing as a ghost... but not being able to go out because the lab would find her... henry going out for halloween though and something happening/getting bullied (will parallel) and maybe that’s when shit went down... resulting in him getting taken back to the lab
anyway i am insane. and Henry, if he escaped, would have escaped pretty early-on I think bc he likely would have gone the same route he took El…. and would’ve needed to be small enough to fit.
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transmasc-wizard · 10 months
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hey nico! been a while! i think since around the time i first started following you i wanted to ask how you personally go about outlining your wips! i never used to outline my stuff but recently i've been getting back into writing so i figured i might as well finally ask you for any advice you can give :)
im so sorry if this took me a really long time to answer, my perception of time exploded awhile back and i have no idea how long this has been sitting in my ask box. but on we go
so basically. my outlines. are a mess. but it is a mess with PROCESS so i will try to explain (<- hasn't outlined in like 8 months)
my outlining process always starts with. idea. like a scattered handful of ideas that i have. major themes, the biggest plot point i have in my head, whatever the actual concept is, etc. and then i pull together my characters FIRST. i don't try to outline till i have a good grasp on who those fuckers are (their motivation, main personality traits, biggest fears, what makes them feel safe, main philosophy, style, culture, what's important to them, their approach to other people, what they want, what's stopping them from getting it, that sorta thing). once i've got my blorbos, i take the concept i have and wonder why They're there. i figure out why they're the main characters, basically. what they have to do with the plot. how they get INVOLVED. and with that, i've got my inciting incident (the shit that made them have to Be There and Have/Solve Problems!)
then i decide generally how i want it to end. i need to know where i'm headed. this can change later on somewhat but usually i have a pretty good idea of it. then, extrapolating from my concept, characters, their dynamics with each other, anything i know about the world, that end, and the scattered ideas that i started with, i make like. 5-10 major scenes i want. and i write those down. THEN is the fun part
i open a new document, with all my notes to the side, and make. literally just a list. i list off what i want to happen. i can get really detailed here; i've had like 300-500 words describing a scene before. but, depending on how much i've got in my head, it can be as little as one sentence. i just keep going till i've got a bullet point list of every single scene i want to happen in the book, with all the plots and subplots and arcs and thematic moments, and then maybe go back and flesh some of it out, and then. im Done . and i can start writing ! i don't follow it exactly all the time, and often i add or take away entire scenes while drafting, but like. it gives me a really good road map that helps me stay with a project a lot longer and make the draft a lot neater than anything i just wing.
as for actually coming up with all that plot and subplot and character arc stuff for the list, it's mostly a loooot of daydreaming while drawing or on walks or generally doing something else, and then also letting the parts naturally connect to each other (this is part of why starting with fleshed out characters helps so much; they Are going to do certain things if they're defined people, so coming up with plot becomes much easier).
i hope that ! makes sense ! i am scattered and sleepy ! if you have any follow up questions about my process or if your immediate reaction was "nico what the fuck are you talking about" please feel free to ask !
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im-poe-dameron · 2 years
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GHOST OF A FATHER
a/n: this has been sitting in my drafts since last august, but finally i managed to churn out the last hundred words. i don't even know if it's good or if it makes any sense at all, but i had to write it. it's been awhile since i've posted anything canon mando and of course i had to go for absolute angst. enjoy!
summary: there's a legend told about a mandalorian who chose to protect his child.
word count: 3.3k+
pairing: din djarin x reader (no romance just strangers)
warnings: angst upon angst upon angst, most likely continuity errors.
“Where did you say we were supposed to end up?” Finn asked, leaping down from the rock you were standing on.
“They didn’t,” Rey said, coming up behind you—pushing her hood down far enough to see where you had in fact ended up.
When you received a transmission telling you to come to the planet Mantessa you weren’t sure what to expect. There had been no sign off, no way to tell that this was a legitimate message, but something told you to go. That to ignore this would be proven as a mistake later on. You were told that it was a waste of time to go and there wasn’t much to refute that statement, yet there you were. Standing amidst the trees on the very planet you were told to come to.
In your mind you figured you were going to come across a young Force sensitive—perhaps a child in need of training. It’s what drew you in to begin with; the prospect of finally training someone on your own. Passing down a piece of knowledge that had been given to you. Yet there was no one to be seen for miles. You landed three days ago and after having wandered through what seemed like an endless jungle, you were beginning to doubt that anybody actually inhabited this planet to begin with.
“We should just go back,” Finn said, following you as you began to hike up a different trail. “It’ll be safer that way. Contact Poe and let him know we’re returning to the ship.”
“I didn’t come here to leave without knowing why.” You glanced up towards the trees, wondering what on earth was so special about this place to begin with. Sunlight could barely come through the area due to the overgrowth of forage. “Besides—Poe followed us up here.”
Finn scoffed. “No he didn’t.”
“You can ask him yourself.”
Movement in the trees echoed around you, followed by a certain pilot letting out a cuss as he nearly tripped over the roots. You had wondered when he’d follow the three of you up here—having gotten tired of waiting around. After all, it had been awhile since the four of you embarked on such a mission. Especially after what happened at the battle that defeated The First Order for good.
Funny to think that nearly an entire decade had passed since then and there you were, a fully trained Jedi soon to be master, helping Finn and Rey go in search of others. Life had become...peaceful. Serene enough to nearly seem like a dream in the end and yet there you were standing amidst the trees, no worries in sight. Other than the main one at hand. Who were you looking for?
“You followed us?” Rey asked, a smile on her face as she leaned against the rock.
Poe shrugged. “I got bored.”
“Should have brought your son to help us.”
He huffed out a laugh. “You and I both know he isn’t interested in becoming a pilot. I’m starting to wonder if he’s actually my son.”
Tuning out their conversation you began to walk further up the ridge, feeling something tug in the base of your chest. A feeling you hadn’t felt in what seemed like years. You knew this place—had seen it somewhere a long time ago, possibly in a dream—yet you couldn’t quite make out why. What had been so important about this place for you to dream of it that long ago? Before you were tasked with coming here.
“This way,” you said softly, pressing your palm into the tree before you. The tug in your chest becoming stronger with every passing second. You knew what lay before you, knew where to go and without questioning yourself further you began to head through the trees.
“How do you know?” Poe asked behind you, grumbling about how he wasn’t cut out for missions anymore.
You smiled, already knowing he’d hate your answer and chose not to respond. Most Jedi went off feeling alone when going in search of Force sensitives, but if you were lucky you’d manage to have contact long before then. Before any of this. They didn’t question you further thankfully, and instead began to trek after you—the sounds of the forest much louder than before. As if they were warning someone you were coming; nature working together to keep itself protected against those that didn’t belong.
“Have you heard the stories about this place?” Rey asked.
“Stories?”
She nodded, pausing to glance down at the floor as a tremble passed beneath her. “They say the forest is haunted.”
You chuckled, turning away to continue on your way. “They probably say it to keep people away from it. A trick.”
“Haunted...by who?” Finn inquired, catching up with you.
“Nobody knows for sure. The stories change every time. Last I heard it was a Jedi who haunts this place after having had a gruesome death, but there’s another legend that says someone else resides here. Looking over the forest and its people.”
“Don’t tell me it’s a war hero,” you said, glancing over at Poe who hung off her every word. He wasn’t one to mess with the supernatural, especially when it came to ghosts in forests.
You could recall the mission that landed him stuck in a Jedi temple for four days being surrounded by the Force ghosts of other Jedi. Some he couldn’t see, but still felt and after you managed to find him he was ready to leave the planet and never return. For good. Finn had been right there with him the entire time in an attempt to reassure him that whoever haunted the building wasn’t there to harm him.
The confirmation that they were real only made him want to leave more.
“No, apparently it’s a Mandalorian.”
Far more ridiculous than the tale about the Jedi living here. Even you knew that Mandalorians were unable to come back through the Force unless they were sensitive to it themselves. Choosing to remain silent on the matter altogether you continued on your way, stepping over vines and roots so as not to fall on your face. The terrain was rougher than you expected, but the four of you had survived much worse. What was spending a few days in the forest going to do?
“There are no more Mandalorians,” you called over your shoulder. “As far as I know the last one was found on Tatooine.”
“I know all about the last King of Tatooine,” she said. “I’m talking about this one. The one who protected a Force sensitive child before The First Order ever came to be created.”
You froze, the tug in your chest almost painful as soon as the words left her mouth, because you recognized this story. Knew it without ever having heard it to begin with. But how could that be possible? You would have had to hear it told somewhere at some point in your life. Maybe you did—long before the war, long before you finished your training. Except you couldn’t bring up the memory for the life of you—almost as if it was lodged in the far reaches of your mind.
Unable to be found again.
“Master Skywalker told the legend to me while I was training,” she said, halting her movements and pushing the stray hair out of her eyes. “He had come across this Mandalorian while searching for others to train.”
They were just stories. You repeated the words in your head as you began to glance around the darkened forest. Just legends that had to be told in order to keep people in line one way or another; the same stories that were told about the past of the Jedi, those that died before they could be trained fully. Stories to warn others of repeating the same mistakes others did in the past.
“Why this planet? This forest? Did he just choose to reside here?” Finn asked, his head turning in the direction yours did as a sound echoed off the trees.
“You and I both know that’s not how ghosts work,” you said, narrowing your eyes at the sight of someone standing a few feet away. “Hello?”
Your hand instinctively went to the lightsaber that hung at your side as the fog began to slowly lift from the area. The figure of a man now coming clear through it and nearly sending you stumbling back off the edge of the hill. It wasn’t possible. Had to be a trick your mind was playing on you after all the talk about haunted areas, because in the middle of the forest stood a Mandalorian. His silver armor reflecting what light broke through the trees, a blaster attached to his hip and a spear on his back.
“Is that—” Poe began to say, stepping forward, his hand reaching for his blaster but what good would weapons do against a ghost?
If it truly was one.
“That’s not possible,” you whispered—the tug in your chest stronger now that you watched the man begin to walk towards you. His movements silent, each step measured and slow. As if he wasn’t in a rush to do much of anything anymore.
Finn stepped closer, glancing back at you and Rey, his hands clenched at his sides. “Do you feel it too?”
Even you couldn’t deny the way the air shifted, the strength in the Force nearly flooded your body the longer you stood there. Potent enough to be shocking. Perhaps he was the force sensitive you were looking for all along, the person who had called you here. The internal war within your mind seemed to be put at a stop the second you saw it—how his body seemed to not only reflect light but allow it to pass through him. The blue haze around his body was enough to confirm what Rey had been saying all along.
“He’s not—he’s a ghost,” you said, taking a few steps closer towards him as he stopped mere feet away.
“So we’re dealing with Mandalorian Force ghosts now?” Poe asked, already slipping the blaster from his side.
You shook your head, noticing something behind him. Another small figure shifting silently through the forest. The movements were slow enough to allow you to keep your eyes trained on him, but you couldn’t take your gaze away from the man who now stood directly in front of you. His helmet tilted down as he looked at you fully—the transparency of his body now clear enough to be noticeable.
“Can you speak?” you asked, wanting to reach a hand out and see if maybe you actually were going insane. Perhaps you would be touching a physical body instead of an apparition created by nothing but the Force.
His head tilted to the side slightly, seeming to regard you carefully, before his arms began to raise. The movement was enough to have Poe raise his blaster, the sound of a lightsaber coming to life let you know someone was on guard. The urge to pull out a weapon grew with every passing minute, but you couldn’t move—didn’t want to move. Not when this was the first time you would ever be able to witness a Mandalorian as  Force ghost stand before you.
You watched as he lifted the helmet from his head, revealing the face of a man. The small lines in his face and the look in his eyes made you wonder how old he had been when he passed. What had been his story for him to wind up in the middle of this forest? The curiosity to ask more questions than you knew what to do with grew, but your mouth wouldn’t open. No words would escape free, because you didn’t know what to do in a situation like this.
Never had this happened before.
“Who are you?” you asked, hand reaching out hesitantly only to come in contact with the feel of cold metal. Faint enough to be a figment of your imagination, but strong enough to prove that he was still there in some ways. Still a man even in death.
He merely smiled, eyes holding enough sadness in them to show he hadn’t lived a life filled with joy. Pain had been his constant friend, something he could count on rather than loathe. Both finding balance with each other within the confines of his body; something sheltered by armor that seemed to be a type of metal in its purest form.
You were far too distracted by him to notice the figure behind him now approaching closer, the steps of it faint but still there. Glancing down you could see a creature wearing a cloak that looked similar to the one you wore. A metal pauldron with an engraving on it was attached to his shoulder—the same one that the Mandalorian was wearing. A clue as to who this Mandalorian was—who he had been.
Your hand fell to your side, and you quickly crouched down watching as whoever this was began to step closer. The small bits of armor beneath his robe showed through, giving you insight into his story a bit. He must have known this Mandalorian—enough so to wear his armor as if it were his own. This was why you were called here, why you felt the shift in the Force, why you knew this place long before you arrived. Because of him.
“You brought us here,” you said, not really asking the question, because you knew the answer. Knew that he had been calling out to you all along.
He nodded, hand reaching out for yours and resting against your palm as his voice echoed in your mind. “Are the Jedi safe now?”
“Yes,” you replied, smiling as he seemed to push his emotions outwards—towards you. “They’re safe—we’re safe.”
His hand patted your own, head looking up towards the Mandalorian who had joined you in crouching onto the ground. A movement that seemed to come to him naturally. You wondered if he’d done it over the years, more times than he could count, all because of him.
“I can go with you now.”
“Come with me now? What do you mean? Did you have to remain here?”
Rey’s hand rested on your shoulder as she joined. “Were you a student of Master Skywalker?”
He nodded, tilting his head down slowly as if to move quickly wasn’t necessary at the time. You’d heard the stories from Rey—knew how Luke Skywalker’s school had met its end tragically. If he was a part of it, a remaining survivor, then that means he’d been in hiding for who knows how long. You put the pieces together as Rey spoke to him about where he was from, what his story was, and you began to realize who this was. Who both of them were.
“The Mandalorian and the child,” you whispered, standing straight to mull over your thoughts.
“What, like the legend?” Finn asked.
“It makes sense. A Force sensitive child who left the school—who just so happens to be guarded by a Mandalorian.”
“Which makes him—” Finn glanced over at the man who now stood to his full height. Eyes watching the three of you warily; as if he was still on guard when it came to newer people.
You took in a breath, the final piece setting itself into place. “His father.”
So, the stories had been true all along. The tale of a young padawan, training to be a Jedi with the ties to a Mandalorian clan—a clan of two. Something you didn’t think to be possible now stood before you. A Jedi of two lives. Mandalorian and Jedi—coexisting together to create his past, his future, and the Jedi he was today. You weren’t sure why he called out to you of all people, but there was no going back on this. No refusing to bring him to the new school, because he was a part of the Jedi just as much as he was a part of his other clan.
“How long have you been here?” Finn asked as you stood off to the side, attempting to regain any memory as to how you knew this place. Except no matter how hard you wracked your brain you couldn't locate an explanation.
“Since long before The First Order.”
He hid here since before Ben Solo became Kylo Ren, since before the war that changed the tides of everything. He remained here by himself. Yet you couldn’t say that with certainty, couldn’t deny the Mandalorian who stood before you, merely a wisp in the air now. A ghost that knew he would no longer need to remain in one place. Who knew that the time for goodbye would come again.
Sooner than either of them expected.
“How has he managed to come back?” you asked. Finn shrugged, his eyes glancing warily at the man.
Behind you Rey stepped closer, inspecting the Mandalorian with a look you knew all too well in her eyes. “Life force,” she mumbled.
“What?”
“The life force of another being could be able to transfer someone’s consciousness to the Force.” She knelt down beside you, her hand reaching for him. “It’s never been done before so I don’t know if it’s possible but…”
“It might be,” you said, eyes once again catching the Mandalorian’s. “What happens when we leave? Will he come with us?”
For the first time, the man spoke, his voice just as familiar as him. “Wherever he goes, I go.”
It was unusual to see such a connection happen through the Force, only happening once before with Rey. Yet there they stood. A father and his adopted son, fully intent on protecting him—even in death remaining right by his side. Whoever they were, whatever they wanted, they wouldn’t be parting ways today and you finally understood why you were called here. Why you saw them over and over again through the Force.
You were always meant to have a padawan…always meant to train someone else. You just never thought it would turn out like this.
“What’s your name?” you asked.
Once again his voice echoed in your mind; small…as if he was still wary about his voice. “Grogu.”
“Grogu,” you breathed. “I suppose I’m your new Master.”
He smiled, eyes glancing up at you with the curiosity of a child. You weren’t sure how old he was, but he knew far more than even you—had seen things that would remain with him until the end of his life. Yet there was one thing he refused to let go of, even as you offered him the prospect of a new life. His father. Whatever happened to cause the Mandalorian’s death was a mystery to you, but it revolved around his child—you knew that much. A part of you could recall Master Skywalker’s voice echoing in your head.
Jedi aren’t allowed to form attachments.
Yet even you had broken that rule. You were attached to the people around you—their friendship kept you alive in more ways than one and the thought of saying goodbye to them twisted your heart painfully. So who were you to say if Grogu should remain with his father or finally say goodbye. No…you wouldn’t make that choice for him—you couldn’t.
“You don’t have to say goodbye,” you told him, a smile gracing your lips. “I won’t allow that.”
For the second time, you heard his voice beside you—eyes either glassy with tears or simply the slight shine of his projection. “Thank you.”
Nodding, you stood—waiting for Grogu to begin walking, his pace slower than yours. He’d chosen a different path, you could see it now, but in the end he found what he needed to find. The Mandalorian walked beside you, his helmet now atop his head as the others went ahead to make sure the ship still remained intact. No words were said, but nothing truly had to be spoken. Not when you finally understood what was expected of you—what the Force ghost of previous Jedi led you to.
Towards Grogu—not a Jedi, but not a Mandalorian either. Someone who was between the lines of what constituted either; who refused to choose one or the other.
Settling for perfect balance instead.
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Ni kar'tayl gai sa'ad
"I know your name as my child"
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valorant-drabbles · 26 days
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Could we have a continuation of Gekko and Deadlock sleeping on the couch please? ITS SO CUTE AND FLUFFY AND I LOVE CYPHER AT THE END TAKING PICTURES
Absolutely, you may! We love seeing character arcs and continued stories here, don't we?
SO SORRY I've been gone for awhile. This has been in my drafts for like a month. Here you go!
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Odds & Ends
Gekko & Deadlock
| Part 1 | Part 2 |
Word Count: 3.1k+
Hours had passed. That's all Deadlock knew for certain when she had felt a light gust of wind blowing some hairs in her face, as she groggily reached to push the strands away. As she slowly peered her eyes open, she found... quite an unexpected sight.
Jett was using her Updraft... right above her. And what looked like a camera was in her hands; and did she ever seem scared. In fact, she and Deadlock probably were just as surprised to see the other in that moment. The only difference being... that Jett knew she was in trouble as soon as Deadlock's gaze hardened to a glare. Cursing under her breath, she threw the camera to somebody who was behind the couch, supposedly.
By now, Deadlock was trying to sit up properly to assess the situation; but there was a weight holding her down. Before she could even get the chance to look down, Jett had fallen directly on top of those who were on the couch.
That was when chaos was sent loose in the Headquarters.
It all happened so fast. Several panicked creature noises squealed at the sudden impact on top of them. Gekko's critters, all frightened out of their calm sleep, had managed to squeeze out of the pile of Gekko, Deadlock, and Jett; and proceeded to run amuck throughout the building with reckless abandon. Dizzy was spinning uncontrollably in the air, shooting her blinding shots at random. Moshpit essentially made the floor a real life version of 'The Floor Is Lava'... And Thrash was zooming around on the walls, not knowing she was going in circles, but just trying to get out of where the 'danger' was.
Soon enough, those in the common room and kitchen were scrambling to catch Gekko's creatures, having little to no luck, as they remained evasive. It was clear they wouldn't calm down until somebody reassured them it was safe.
Jett was scrambling to wake up Gekko at that point, who had gone from peacefully asleep... to knocked out cold. With a possible concussion. All this for a photo... god, why hadn't she just asked for Cypher's help?!
The wake up, the fall, and now the noise proved to be incredibly disorienting for Deadlock, who seemed to be the only one with a level head in that moment. Despite the pounding headache from having Jett essentially kick her in the head on her way down, she stood up, grabbed some equipment from her bag...
"Everyone get down!" Deadlock shouted out amongst the discord in the room. The agents who had been trying to corral the frantic animals, hearing Deadlock's warning, all dove to the floor, covering their heads. They didn't know what to expect, but they weren't about to get in her way.
Activating her Nanowire Accelerator, she closed one eye in an attempt to aim properly. Usually her accelerator was only used on humans... well, and robots... but she figured it would buy them enough time to keep them in one place until Gekko could calm them down.
As sharp a shooter as ever, it only took three separate shots to each creature to successfully capture each. Panicked noises were still coming from inside the pulse of nanowires, and Deadlock felt quite bad... yet it would have to do for now.
After a few minutes, once the noise and panic had died down, KAY/O was brought to the scene to use his abilities. He was able to forcefully shut down the creatures into returning to their smaller forms, where they proved to be much less destructive.
Deadlock let out a heavy sigh of relief, collapsing back down on the couch and rubbing her face. It was all handled... for now. Sage would make her way over to ensure everybody involved wasn't injured too critically, and Brimstone would surely reprimand Jett and her assailant for the damage their stunt caused. It was most likely Yoru, Deadlock pondered, as she rested her head back against the couch. The creatures were in a nest of blankets that now sat on the coffee table in front of the couch, watching Gekko, shaking slightly and whining for him to wake up. Deadlock couldn't help but compare the sight to children waking their mom up because they had a nightmare... Quite cute.
From that point, it was only about an hour before Gekko was woken up, with the help of Sage's healing and checking-up. He'd groaned quietly, with the pounding of his head not exactly easing up immediately. Shuffling to sit up, he took in his surroundings, doing his best to recall the events that he must've missed... but he remembered nothing. Sleep, impact, then nothing.
Brimstone was there when he woke up, and did his best to calmly explain what had happened while he was unconscious. How Jett had attempted some dumb stunt, only to fall and start the chaos. Hearing his little buddies had gone wild out of fear caused Gekko's heart to sink. His poor little guys... they always got rowdy when startled, and usually Gekko was the only one capable of stopping them from causing chaos. The only one able to calm them down from nightmares...
"Wait, so how did you subdue them without me?" Gekko questioned, furrowing his eyebrows slightly.
The answer did not make him happy.
------
Once everyone had gotten word that Gekko was on his feet and discharged from Sage's care, everyone involved in the chaotic creature event was relieved. After asking a few different agents for confirmation, he'd found out exactly how his little buddies were captured.
"Are you serious?!" Gekko's voice boomed throughout the lab, where Killjoy, Viper, and Deadlock had been spending the last hour or two; tossing ideas back and forth to figure out a way to calm the creatures enough so they could be released from Deadlock's nanowires. Turning their heads collectively, they saw Gekko- who usually was as calm as a lamb... only to find flaring rage behind his eyes. And his eyes were boring directly into Deadlock, who couldn't help but freeze up at the stare.
"I... think we should take our leave." Killjoy piped up quickly as she dragged a reluctant Viper out of the lab. Knowing how vicious the creatures themselves had the capacity of being- she dreaded knowing what a furious, attacking Gekko would be like.
Once alone in the room, Gekko tore his eyes from Deadlock to the sphere of nanowires, which he could see the silhouettes of his buddies, zooming around like hamsters on a wheel, looking frantically for a way out. He stormed over, smacking Deadlock's hand out of the way as she tried to reach for him.
Despite his fury, he managed to calm his voice enough to speak to his friends. "Heya guys, it's gonna be alright. I'm right here." A small smile came to his face as he saw the silhouettes of the creatures slow down, and eventually, calm down enough to form back into their orbs, knowing Gekko would want to put them away to rest.
Deadlock was... truly amazed by Gekko's ability to communicate with the creatures, even while angry. Almost like a parent who's had an awful day, but still shows love to their child. She pressed the button on her arm, and the nanowires came completely undone around the now orb-shaped creatures.
Making sure each creature was in their correct spot, Gekko sighed. He could only imagine the damage they'd caused while he was out.
"Gekko. I... I apologize. There was little we could do to calm them down without you." Deadlock tried to start, only to be abruptly cut off by Gekko raising his hand to tell her to be quiet. "I don't want to hear it. You've severely damaged my trust with this... stupid stunt." He muttered rather coldly, vastly contradicting the warm, nurturing voice he'd used only moments ago.
"Gekko-"
"You seriously couldn't think of any other way to calm them?" His head snapped in her direction, causing Deadlock to tense up again. This was so unlike him.
"KAY/O could've suppressed them, Neon could've stunned them- Skye is great with animals, she would've been able to help too! But you just... jumped to Nano-wiring them while they were panicking? Do you have any idea how scared they must've been? They might've thought you were turning heel and getting rid of them! You think they don't know you hate them? That you would've killed them if I wasn't stopping you? They aren't stupid, they hear the things you say, and they know what you think of them."
Deadlock slowly moved her gaze down a bit, hands glued to her sides as she was left to accept the scolding. It was true there were alternative ways to stop the frantic critters... but they needed to tame them quickly, and her wires were the only thing available during the panic. "You're right. I... I acted without thinking. I'm truly--"
Her eyes moved up to try and meet Gekko's again, but she got distracted a certain... lack of color, per se.
"... Where's Wingman?" She questioned quietly. Gekko furrowed his eyebrows together as he felt around to find where he would've stashed Wingman. "What're you talking about, he's right--"
Nothing. Wingman's orb wasn't there.
And now that he was thinking about it, when he saw the silhouette of his buddies in the nanowires... he'd only seen Thrash, Dizzy, and Mosh...
"I... H-He wasn't in the nanowires." Gekko stammered slightly, turning his head around to search the room quickly, as if Wingman was just... hiding in plain sight. "Where is he?! Is he still out in the base somewhere?" His voice changed as he began to panic. He hadn't shown his buddies around the headquarters nearly as thoroughly as he should've... so there was a good chance Wingman was completely lost somewhere!
"Let us split up to find him." Deadlock placed a hand on the other's shoulder to try and ground him, looking into his eyes seriously. "I'll search the greenhouse and otherwise, you should check any small spaces he might be hiding in... maybe check bedrooms and closets as well. If we can't find him in ten minutes, we'll launch a full-scale search with all available agents in the premises."
Giving a small, stiff nod, Gekko turned and rushed out of the laboratory without argument. Deadlock exhaled shakily to herself as she followed Gekko out, only leaving to head towards Skye's greenhouse. Animals loved it there... so maybe Wingman would as well?
----------------------
Within about seven minutes of checking behind every bush, tree, and plant, Deadlock was beginning to lose hope that Wingman was in the greenhouse. Wingman was notoriously good at hide and seek, according to Gekko... despite being bright yellow and very obvious to spot in the dark.
Just as she was heading towards the exit, she heard a familiar chirping voice from within the branches of one of the trees. Her eyes widened, and quickly rushed over to the tree, trying to peer amongst the branches and leaves to spot him. Squinting, she could just barely make out a little pear-shaped blob, with a pair of piercing blue eyes staring back at her. Huh... turns out Wingman could de-illuminate the cells of his body to hide from predators, with its eyes being the only giveaway to its location.
"Wingman, thank goodness I've found you. Gekko is worried sick. Come on down so we can return to him." Deadlock held out her hand up to the tree... only for the little creature to squeak in a panic, and retreat further up into the higher branches. Blinking back her initial confusion, she sighed heavily and began to scale the tree. She had to be careful- Skye would destroy her if she broke even a twig off.
Finding a strong branch to support her weight, she sat herself down on it to catch her breath. Running about she could do, no problem. Rushing from one site to another? A breeze. But climbing was... not her strong suit.
"Alright, that's enough messing around. Seriously. You need to come down or Gekko is going to kill me." Deadlock pleaded rather tiredly, head resting against the trunk. Only to be answered in more rustling and further branches scaled by the little guy. Groaning, Deadlock rubbed her face and let her legs dangle. Why was he suddenly being so difficult? They were napping and enjoying one another's company only a few hours ago... what changed?
It took a few minutes of thinking before it clicked.
Wingman most likely saw his friends get captured by Deadlock.
When she looked up again at the critter, she could see now that there was a clear emotion behind his eyes.
Fear.
Wingman was afraid of her.
"Oh..." Was all she could really say in response to her realization, only to exhale heavily and stuff her face within her hands. "God. Of course you're terrified. You think I hurt your friends, didn't you?"
After all, Gekko and Deadlock have fought on the same team multiple times. Wingman must've seen what happens to enemies that get caught in her nanowires. If she can land a hit, it kills the enemy by the end of the line. It only makes sense that Wingman thinks the same happened to his critter family.
"How do I explain this... I don't even know how many braincells you have in that little nucleus of yours..." She mumbled to herself. "No idea if you'd even understand. But... Ugh."
Wingman simply peeked his head out from behind the leaves he was hiding behind, and tilted his head curiously.
"Right. Well, I hope you can understand me. Otherwise, I'm just going to be talking to myself." She started, deciding that staring at Wingman and continuously searching was a fruitless endeavor.
"Your... Your friends were running ramped, causing all sorts of damage. It was potentially dangerous to any agents that could've walked in that room. We wanted to calm you all down... but we couldn't do that without Gekko, who was unconscious." She clasped her hands atop her lap, gaze glued to the flora and sprouts below.
"I acted without thinking and caught the other creatures in my nanowires... because we had very limited ways of keeping you all under control. I figured it would work to keep you all contained until Gekko awoke... but... I realize that must have been rather scary for you to witness, no?"
A small chirp of agreement.
"I thought so. Gekko gave me an earful, that's for sure." Deadlock smiled sadly to herself, at least glad that Wingman was calm enough to respond to her. So... He must've understood to some degree.
"I'm... truly, very sorry for what I did. Acting recklessly to stop the chaos... scaring you, and potentially putting you and your friends in danger. I hope you can forgive me someday... I understand if you are still afraid. All I ask is that you return to Gekko's side... I imagine he won't be able to sleep tonight without knowledge of your safety."
With that, Deadlock slid off the branch and landed on the cobblestone flooring below the tree, dusting herself off of any leaves or bugs that might've gotten on her in that time of climbing.
Before she could get a step further, there was a sudden impact on the top her head. Not exactly... painful, but surprising, nonetheless. It was soft... and somewhat gelatinous?
Whatever landed on top of her head soon rolled forward, into her arms. Blue eyes stared up at her, little arms wiggling up in the air, as if a child asking for a hug.
"Wingman...?" Deadlock questioned, unsure of the creature's wish. Wingman hopped up and hugged her by her neck, nuzzling comfortably against her shoulder, noises of happiness erupting from him.
She felt her cheeks flush slightly in embarrassment. She... hadn't been expecting to be forgiven so easily. Well, it was essentially an animal after all... she doubted it had the capacity to hate anything.
If anything, Gekko was the one she was to worry about.
"Let us get you back to Gekko, shall we?" Deadlock requested softly, petting the small metal top of Wingman's dead. Another chirp, this one of agreement.
"And maybe put in a good word for me with Gekko." She chuckled to herself... though knowing deep down, it wouldn't be nearly so easy.
-----------------------------------------
Gekko was in the process of frantically explaining to Brimstone about his missing buddy, and how he'd need everyone's help to locate Wings. Brimstone simply did his best to calm the young agent down, as he was already near tears at the thought of his little partner gone for even a day.
"Gekko!" Deadlock's voice echoed through the empty halls, causing both gentlemen to turn towards the noise. The pure joy and relief on Gekko's face when he saw Wingman in her arms was truly indescribable.
"Wings!" He cried out happily, as Wingman leapt from Deadlock's arms into Gekko's. He snuggled the heck out of the little guy, rambling multiple apologies and appreciations to whatever god that protected him.
"I missed you so much, buddy." Gekko whispered as he finally seemed to calm down from his frantic coddling. Wingman gave one last chirp before forming into an orb, and was finally stashed away safely within Gekko's pocket.
"I found him hiding in a tree in the greenhouse. It took a bit of convincing, but... I got him to come down of his own accord. Probably the way I should have handled the whole... rampage." Deadlock smiled towards the other agent, hands in her jacket pockets as she approached. "They really do have feelings and cognitive thought- I'm embarrassed it took me so long to realize that. But... regardless, I am truly sorry for how I dealt with the situation earlier." She bowed her head slightly in apology.
The man stood there for a few moments, mulling over what Deadlock had said. He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck rather awkwardly. "Nah, I... I totally overreacted. I was just high-strung and worried about my guys. I should've just told you how my buddies felt about your technology. So, uh... You're totally fine. Dizzy and the others might take awhile to warm back up to you... but they're super affectionate lil' guys, so I doubt it'll take long." He flashed a small smile towards his teammate. "We cool?"
Deadlock laughed softly to herself. "Yes, I suppose we are 'cool'. Perhaps I can treat you to some boba? I hear there's a new location that opened up nearby that I have heard good things about from Neon."
Eyes lighting up like a child's, Gekko's usual energy sprung to life. "Boba? You know me so well, Amiga! But you're paying!"
"Deadlock raised an eyebrow with a smile. "... I believe that was suggested by my phrasing."
"Already planned on it anyways."
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the-kaedageist · 3 years
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Thinking about how Marisha’s natural inclination for note-taking has been incorporated into both of her characters, especially Beau, and how much the other players all respect her so much for it. This can be seen in both campaigns, from Vax and Keyleth asking about information on the Shadowfell from Eskil Ryndarien and Vax saying, absolutely smitten, “this is what she does, she carries this little book around everywhere”, to the way that note-taking and information has been incorporated into Beau’s entire character motivation. It fits perfectly with Beau’s monk abilities as well - her Cobalt Soul skills like Extract Aspects and Extort Truth are perfect for someone who collects information so judiciously.
I love how dedicated Marisha has been to storing the party’s information, and how critically important her notes have been so many times in both campaigns. Taking notes during dnd is a SKILL - it’s extremely tricky to balance writing down the correct information with role-playing, but Marisha pulls it off masterfully. Kudos to Marisha for this incredible talent! I can’t wait to see how she incorporates gathering information into her character in the third campaign.
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niightbiite · 2 years
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Screenshotted post by @cuppimagines
So ive had that imagine [link 2 said post] sitting in my drafts as a idea to do for awhile now.... n ive done it!!!
And in the process came up with!!! Character Lore. Kinda. Still poking at it but its pretty fun i think!!! [Lore n bonus pics under the cut]
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Me trying to figure out designs + dark wizard trans. Why does he have a tenta dick? A dark spell he did had the (accidental) side effect of giving him one (and also changing a good like 50% of his anatomy into something a little more monsterous but shhhhh we're not talking about that), but honestly he'd been wanting one Anyways, AND the spell went off correctly, so he 100% won that gamble.
(HI soooo this backstory thing ended up a LOT longer than i initally expected. Have fun reading lmao)
Sooo the relationship between these two is that theyre recently reconnected childhood penpals!!! They live on two different, yet similar worlds, and those worlds have some hidden connections! One day, a hot summer day, young lil baby Cafe (the person who is Not a wizard) found one of those connections, in the woods behind their family's home. Being a weird little child (as all children are), they decided to send a letter through it.
On the other side of that connection, a few days later, DW (Dark Wizard) found that letter (and the connection) in the woods surrounding his grandfather's home, and also being a weird little child, sent a letter back through. Thus! A wonderful summer friendship was struck up between the two, and lasted for years.
Unfortunately, somewhere around the middle of highschool, DW one day simply stopped responding. Cafe held out hope for months, but soon years had passed, and they simply had to move on. Life waited for no one, and they had college to get to.
The reason behind DW's sudden disappearance is the simply fact that his kindly grandfather, the one who he had been apprenticed to for the last 10+ years, and raised by even before that, was a dark magic user. And the particular kingdom they lived in hunted dark magic users. Also in his heyday, DW's grandfather was a real powerhouse, and caused Many issues (Likely also contributing to the banning of dark magic in that particular kingdom lmao).
So uh, yeah. DW had to go on the run.
Eventually he became a powerful enough tyrant/menancing cryptid mix that folks collectively decided to stop attempting to hunt him down (barring the occasional greedy/overly confident idiot), so DW came back to where his grandfather's house once stood, and settled down there. He never truly forgot about the connection, but it took a few months before he finally worked up the nerve to pen a letter to his oldest friend. Thankfully, DW happened to finally put his letter through just when Cafe happened to be visiting home for a break between semesters.
Even though they had long given up hope on ever hearing from DW again, Cafe still enjoyed hanging out in the woods to chill out, and checking the connection was practically a ritual at this point. Only this time, there was a letter in that script, one they never could have forgotten, even if they tried.
And basically after that its them catching up on each other's life in the past few years, and sending each other lil trinkets and pictures of themselves and whatnot. Then yearning. Lotsa yearning. DW and Cafe have lowkey had childhood crushes on one another all these years, but how the hell would you tell that to a someone you've never met in person, and cant actually ever meet in person??? Plus, Cafe has tried the dating scene, and never really found anyone that interests them (they are demisexual). DW has literally spent years on the run. So they (individually) just kinda. Stew in the Yearning-Pining soup.
Eventually magic fucky ducky shit happens and connections around the world turn into fully fledged, creature permissible portals. Its a lotta chaos, but thats not the point, cause now! Now they can finally fucking hug each other!!! And be incredibly gay horny young adults together.
I dont have anything vaugely thought about beyond that point, but just know they grow old and grey (...eventually. dark magic does some Weird Shit) together.
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sleepy-dreamers-inc · 3 years
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Dadza with GN! Reader who has sleeping issues|| ♥️
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irl / in-game
Genre| fluff
d r a b b l e||
Sypnosis|
Y/N has always had trouble sleeping, but after moving in with (they’re once internet dad) adoptive dad, Philza, the sleep schedule only gets worse. Thankfully, Dadza is here to help!
Artist| VMelodyta on twitter!
warnings: fluff. Pure cuteness.
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The moon shone bright, as stars glimmered in the sky. The neighborhood sat quiet, the only sound that could be heard were the faint sounds of wind chimes swaying and and leaves carried by the wind.
Y/N laid awake, though. Everyone else in the area were fast asleep, snuggled up beaneath warm blankets and fluffy pillows.
Y/N always had issues with sleeping, it was normal for them to stay up late into the night doing whatever, playing games, watching videos, anything to keep them entertained really. Although lately is was a little worse. Y/N knew why, but didn’t want to say, afraid it would hurt they’re new family.
Y/N sighed, flipping the covers off they’re body and standing up, they stretched they’re limbs and slowly shuffled they’re way past their parents door and into the kitchen. Y/N rummaged around in the kitchen, finding a glass cup and pooring themselves a glass of milk.
“Hopefully this’ll help me sleep.” Y/N muttered, taking a sip while leaning on the bar.
“Hey Kiddo, what are you doing up so late?” Phil said, turning on the kitchen light was yawning, he simply made his way to his kid and propped himself against another counter, so that he was facing Y/N. They simply stared, not knowing what to say. All Y/N did was put their glass on the counter and low they’re head, rubbing they’re hand on they’re arm, refusing to make eye contact.
“Kiddo...?” Phil mumbled, shifting over to his kid, they simply jumped and looked at him with tearful and tired eyes. “Oh my god Y/N are you okay? Why are you crying?” The man asked frantically, putting his hands on Y/N’s shoulders at they stared at him, Y/N simply sighed while looking down.
“I just.... i cant sleep, Dadza. I’ve had this issue my whole life and it- it brings me so much pain, im never rested, im tired all the time, and the new environment doesn’t help either, its not your fault tho-“ Y/N got cut off when Phil simply hugged them, his head on theirs as he rocked both of they’re bodies back and forth. He rubbed Y/N’s head, while saying quiet “shhhhhh’s” to calm Y/N down.
Y/N hugged they’re dad back, pressing they’re face into his chest, trying so desperately not to cry. Phil moved his head and looked down, before smiling fondly. “C’mon kiddo.” Phil said, walking away but grabbing Y/N’s hand, he walked his way over to their couch, Y/N simply following not far behind. Phil plopped down onto the couch, looking up at his confused kid. All he did was pat his chest, but Y/N got the signal.
Hesitantly, Y/N climbed on and laid on they’re dad, head on his chest as they simply enjoyed the warmth they’re dad produced. He ruffled they’re hair a bit, smiling, then laying his head against the sofa’s arm rest.
“Oh, kiddo, by the way,” Phil said, looking back down to see Y/N shift they’re head and look up at him. Phil simply smiled, he couldn’t help but find his kid adorable, who wouldn’t?
“Just call me dad.” Phil smiled, moving some hair out of Y/N’s face as they smiled and simply nodded, they laid they’re head back down and Phil did the same.
Silently, the two slowly drifted off to sleep, basking in eachothers company. The morning sun would come soon, but that was simply a problem for later.
BONUS:
Kristin yawned, sitting up while stretching. She looked around her ahared bedroom, seeing Phil no where. She simply questioned where he was before shuffling out of her room and into the living room, only to see 2 figures happily asleep on the couch, Phil’s hand resting on Y/N’s head as Y/N snored slightly, they’re head on Phil’s chest as they (both) we’re sound asleep.
Kristin ‘awwed’, taking out her phone and quietly snapping a photo, as much as she wanted to keep it to herself,
What would Twitter think?
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a/n: hello its been awhile!!! Sorry for being so inactive these past couple days, my internet has been down and tumblr has been bugging out and deleting my drafts, it happened in this one actually :(
I would’ve made this longer and better, but i have lots of requests and I didn’t want the whole thing to get deleted again. But, i hope i did this one justice even if its kinda short and bad.
But, i hope you all have a lovely day and make sure to use your twitch primes on Wilbur Soot :)
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throwawayfish · 3 years
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𝐉𝐉 𝐌𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐱 𝐊𝐨𝐨𝐤!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐀𝐔)
summary: being born a kook has it’s benefits, the line that’s separates the island, preventing you from seeing beyond it isn’t one of them. especially when someone starts sending you letters and you have no idea who they are.
warnings: fluff, language, angst, mentions of cheating, typos, slight pov change but not too noticeable, kinda long
a/n: this is a story in my drafts that i’ve had for a long time, so i decided to publish it as i’m trying to finish the last bit of the series i’m working on. gifs used are mine unless otherwise noted.
comment on my main masterlist if you want to be added to my taglist! ♡
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there it is again, the pretend service road that you always stare blankly at. an upset feeling slowly spreading across your insides every time you wander around the area.
it wasn’t because you didn’t want to be at that place, but because you knew that once you step past that line, there is a whole other world than what you’re used to, and you can’t help but want nothing more than to see it for yourself. because you know that the people from the other side can see your world.
ever since you were a kid, along with the others your age whose parents rule the upper class side of the island, you were always told that monsters live on the cut. that the reason why only a long service road was visible was because fairies were protecting you from seeing the monsters trying to break the barrier to your side, the “good” side.
as time went by those beliefs faded, realizing that you weren’t exactly living a disney life, that your happiness was limited despite it being shown off to the people you once had no idea existed.
it all started when your best friend sarah crossed, leaving you behind without any explanation besides being sick of being a kook. you were left to handle the expectations both your families had, including the responsibility of maintaining the name of your family, the camerons and thorntons.
you wished for her to come back, hoping that there was a chance for her return to figure eight though you were well aware that when one crosses, they can never go back. waiting every day at the exact time and place ever since she crossed, not caring if people from the other side are watching you sit there and look lost.
and that’s the thing you never knew, before rafe cameron decided to mock you when he saw you sitting down on the gravel, telling you that the people from the cut can see everything from their perspective.
it was a friday night, meaning that you once again ventured to the barrier to wait for your friend to make an appearance, even though you know it was not possible. the warm hues of the sun deeply tainting the horizon as the area farthest from it were the first to be as dark as the depths of the ocean.
after a few minutes of waiting, you decided that you were no longer going to wait for sarah. though hesitant, you slowly tried to accept that it was impossible for her to come back. you just settled at the thought that she’s happy where she is now, enjoying her life all day with salt water in her hair and the warmth of the sun in her cheeks.
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sarah knew you always waited at the place that prompted her new life. so when she knew you were there, she goes, just to see you again. even though what she always sees is a sulking girl waiting for her best friend to come back.
people from the cut who passes by the border always asks her questions about who you were. overtime getting used to watching you blankly stare at them because they knew you could never get a glimpse behind the line.
sarah’s decision to cross was impulsive and rushed as she didn’t bid any goodbyes. knowing that once she did, she would change her mind once she realizes that she’s leaving you. so without another word, she stepped over.
she initially felt unwelcomed, to say the least. not having anyone to talk to and a place to stay, she ended up at the wreck from her long journey to get through the night.
the cut was not what she expected. to be frankly honest, it was better than what the older people from the eight described. it wasn’t gloomy, eerie or sinister. it was normal. sure it is daunting to be in a whole other world alone as a teenager, but seeing people go in and out of the restaurant, teens her age laugh as they walk the humid streets with their friends, she came to a conclusion that this is something she can get used to. because there was life on the cut, more life than the comfortable one that was handed to them on the eight.
the bell rang as a group of boys around her age entered. the blonde one shouting throughout the place, causing a beautiful brunette girl to come out from the back room to scold the boy.
she laughed at their antics, the tallest boy in the group making her heart skip a beat as they made eye contact.
that was the start of her being a part of the ‘pogues’. somewhat immediately being accepted into their friendship if it weren’t for the unwelcoming energy of the blonde boy.
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it was a day after a hurricane when they all decided to go out to the marsh. the five of them spending their day under the sun, stomachs filled with chips and beer in courtesy of kie.
that was until they found a sunken boat which caused them to be their usual curious selves and end up in a motel. putting on their detective masks and ventured the island trying to gather any information they can get.
night time came and they were hanging out by the dock at the chateau, sharing their second batch of canned beers while discussing their futures.
when time came for sarah’s turn, she stood up, hastily bidding her goodbye and apology saying she needs to hurry. the rest watched her figure disappear in the distance. still surprised at the usual agenda of the girl, which they should’ve gotten used to by now.
it was silent for awhile when the blonde decided to break it, knowing that none of them have the courage to address the elephant in the room.
“she’s cheating on you. i hate to say it, she is.” kie widened her eyes at him, passing on the message that he needed to stop, it didn’t faze him though.
“it’s been ongoing since we met her. i don’t even understand why she’s part of this group. i get it you’re dating her but-” “jj!” kie yelled at him this time, pope shaking his head making it known that he was siding with kiara on this one.
“every friday night she leaves us no matter what we’re doing. same time as always. this is not some essay comprehension shit we do in school. even three year olds can get an idea of what’s going on here” he said as he played with his lighter
“why does it matter? she might have stuff to do that she doesn’t want us to know. let’s just respect her privacy.” pope commented, john b nodding in agreement
“kooks bro. they just don’t sit right with me.” he muttered as he chugged down the last bit of beer. “as far as i know sarah left figure eight to have a new life. just by that you can tell she’s different.” john b once again defended his girlfriend
“if she’s not meeting some other guy i think she’s just rebelling. sooner or later she’ll get sick of us and go crawling back to the border til she realizes she cannot cross back.”
kiara sighed, over the petty argument her friend started “i think that’s enough, jj”
one by one they all started to gather their stuff and go back to the chateau, but jj had different plans as he lied saying he was going to go for a walk, to wind down from their busy day. him being him, the pogues let him go
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jj looked at the places where the blonde lass might be, growing up on the cut and having no choice but to stay there, he practically has the south side memorized like the back of his hand.
kooks in general made his stomach churn, the term itself pissing him off just by hearing it. the main reason though was because he was mad.
he was mad that they were the ones to receive all blows and brags of the rich. when people from there get sick of their cookie cutter life, they cross. having another chance to change their routine. but when it came to them, there was no other way. no matter how rich you get on the cut, you stay on the cut. be the richest of the poor.
the cold yet sultry late summer weather accompanied him on his walk on kildare’s dark streets. turning every corner he thought sarah might be. after a few disappointments, he heard rattling from a bike’s chain. and there was his target, seemingly cautious as to whom was around her.
jj didn’t want to snoop around. he knew it wasn’t his business to know every decision the girl makes. but he wanted to protect his best friend whether his suspicions were true or not.
“go home!” she heard the girl shout. he decided to hide behind the tree, not knowing why sarah was crying. when he decided to peek, she found her sitting on the cold stone ground, matching the position of the girl from the other side of the bright line. who, for a moment, made him forget she was a kook as the girl sent butterflies to his stomach.
“i know you can’t hear me, but i’m sorry for leaving. but you also can’t let me be guilty for choosing my happiness.”
she stood up, getting on her bike and leaving the unknowing girl who remained in her place.
now he had an idea as to why the new member of their group was always leaving. when he was sure that she was gone, he slowly approached the girl. looking down at her and watched her expressions.
he knew it was a creepy thing to do, especially since she cannot see him. but he admired her, at first sight, much to his surprise.
soon he noticed the girl standing up, not wanting to lose the chance of communicating with her, he shuffled between his multiple pockets to search for anything to connect to her.
finding a crumpled grocery list that john b once gave him and a pen from he knows where, he wrote a quick message, and threw the paper across, which surprisingly went through being that no one from the cut could ever cross or send something over. it landed just in time, enough to catch her attention before she was far enough.
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you stood up from the cold land to get back to your car, the misty wind enveloped your figure. it was rather silent in the area, making it easy for you to turn around to see a crumpled piece of paper drop from thin air.
𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠, 𝚔𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚘𝚢 𝚖𝚎, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚒 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚠𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝚗𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚒𝚝 𝚒𝚜.
you picked it up and looked straight to the vast road, expecting the feeling of emptiness, instead you felt comfort. it wasn’t sarah, because you know her presence by heart, but it’s as if you were tied to the person from the other side. it’s as if you were looking directly in their eyes.
the note contained a lame pickup line that still made you smile. soon enough a pen dropped out of nowhere, and you got the message that they wanted to talk.
not minding his messy writing, you decided to stay and communicate with the person on the other side, you passed the pen and paper back and forth across the border. sitting down once again as you wrote to someone you didn’t know, better yet, cannot see.
jj was the name you got, saying that he can see you. your beautiful face. blood crept up to your cheeks as you read it, smiling at him though the only thing in front of you are rocks and fallen leaves on a long winding road.
the moment you realized that what you’re doing is kinda intense, you’ve been closed off. standing off and passing him the paper containing your farewell.
𝚒𝚝’𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚏𝚞𝚗 𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞, 𝚓𝚓. 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚒 𝚍𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞, 𝚒 𝚍𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎. 𝚒 𝚍𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚊 𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚛𝚞����𝚎 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚒𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞’𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚙𝚢 𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚖𝚢 𝚊𝚐𝚎.
he didn’t know what to do for a moment, not wanting to lose the chance of not seeing you again, so he took the last chance he could get to stop you from leaving.
he scrambled as he tried to quickly write in the crumpled sheet, throwing it across as he keenly watched your expression. and with that he knew he did something that could either make or break you being comfortable in talking to him.
𝚒’𝚖 𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚜𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚑
the note made your heart drop and at the same time jump with gaiety. you knew that through him, you could reconnect with your best friend again. but jealousy was creeping behind your mind as you realized that he gets to see her while you can’t.
𝚕𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚢 𝚢𝚘𝚞
it took a minute for the paper to come back that you thought he just left you hanging, but quite a long message came back.
𝚜𝚑𝚎’𝚜 𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚢 𝚋𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚓𝚘𝚑𝚗 𝚋. 𝚒 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚗 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚜𝚘 𝚒 𝚍𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝚑𝚎𝚛. 𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚜 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚜𝚑𝚎’𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚐𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞. 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚘𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞.
you smiled, colliding the paper with the tip of the pen once again.
𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝’𝚜 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠.
you looked down at your lap while fiddling with your fingertips. for a moment, crossing slipped through your mind as you stared at the letter. however images of your family and so called friends replaced it immediately. the expectations that you need to fulfill and the reputation you need to maintain.
𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝’𝚜 𝚘𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍?
you looked up as you heard the materials once again land in front of you. a promising message that comforted you. you stood up as you passed the note back, running away as you hastily went back to your house.
𝚖𝚎𝚎𝚝 𝚖𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚒𝚍𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝.
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you grabbed a duffel bag as you fit in as much clothes as you can. putting in the glass jar that you filled with spare change and extra allowance over the years.
it was a life changing decision, you knew that. it will never be the same again once you enter a whole different life. these were your thoughts yet you still continued packing, hurrying and trying to be as quiet as possible.
as you finished, you gave one last look into your still fully furnished room that nonetheless felt empty. you shook off your hesitation as you turned around and went through the back door of your quiet estate.
jj was ten minutes early, not wanting to let you be alone in your arrival, he wasn’t even sure if you’re planning to cross, but he wanted to see you, it doesn’t matter what you’re plotting.
you neared the line, standing in front of it as you looked blankly in front of you. second guessing whether you wanted to continue what you we’re planning to.
it was silent in the area, only cicadas being heard as the moon shined bright, illuminating the streets, it rained a bit on your way back, now the the gravel was soaking up every last bit of raindrop that touched it.
you weren’t sure if the boy was there waiting for you, but a shark tooth necklace dropped at the bottom of your feet, giving you the assurance that he was in fact there, ready to be a witness of your breakthrough.
the life you were leaving behind entered your headspace once again, but the welcoming presence of the boy kept you grounded as your mind clouded with thoughts, and at that moment you knew you’re in good hands.
so you crossed.
and there wasn’t even an ounce of regret as you were met with solace, caused by a pair of cerulean eyes that studied your features, and you couldn’t help but do the same. his crooked teeth complimented his perfect smile. mirroring his stance and facial expressions, you dropped your bag and gave him a smile that radiated appreciation.
“hi.” he whispered, his voice raspy as nervousness enveloped him.
you giggled, putting your hand out “i believe this belong to you.” electricity flowing through both your fingertips as it slightly brushed. he grabbed your duffel bag as he motioned his head towards the new place you’re gonna soon call home.
“i would love to get to know you, the pogues would think that as well, but i know you’re dying to see sarah. let’s get you to your best friend.”
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hope you guys liked this one! wishing this compensates for the wait of my series ‘The Definitely’s Maybe’’s final chapter. stay tuned for that.
tell me if you wanna be tagged/removed in future posts or have it be updated as i cannot tag some of you! have a great day! ♡
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captainimprobable · 2 years
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Part 4 of That Thing I’ve Been Writing.  This one is VERY MUCH a first draft.  Like, I know I’ve been saying that a lot, but this shit needs EDITING.  I just have no self control and I wanted to share a little of what I’m working on. I hope you like the sneak peek! Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  ~~
They turn fifteen.
 Many things have changed in the few months they’ve been together. It’s easier now, somehow, in a way it wasn’t at the beginning.  
They don’t blush as much anymore, and they hold hands readily and easily.  They kiss each other’s cheeks before they leave a room.  Luz is overwhelmingly, uncontrollably happy.
However. Luz has noticed something, lately.  Something that perplexes and confuses her.
Here’s the deal: Luz really wants to kiss her girlfriend.
It takes her days of getting distracted by Amity’s lips to come to this realization, and when she does, she’s sort of embarrassed.  She knows she has no reason to be.  This is her girlfriend, and girlfriends kiss, right? That’s normal!
But she’s never actually kissed anyone before, and this is Amity, and it’s been months of dating now and how in the world is she supposed to go about this? Does she ask? Does she just lean in? Does she send her a letter that says “Will you kiss me? Check y/n boxes below”?????
She agonizes over this for days, barely paying attention to the planning for their joint birthday party. 
She still hasn’t decided what to do when, before she knows it, it’s time for the party.   Edric and Emira show up with a tub of apple blood, hiding it behind their backs until they realize that Eda has not only already supplied the party with enough to knock out a slitherbeast, but also pregamed so much herself that she is well and truly gone.
The twins give each other a sly grin, leave Eda knocked out on the couch, and run inside.  Before Luz knows what’s happening, Emira is picking her up while Edric grabs Amity and gives her a noogie.  “Happy birthday baby sisters,” Emira croons, while the girls struggle to get free.  “Yeah,” Edric says, messing up Amity’s hair.  “Thanks for being born in the same month so we don’t have to go to two parties.”
Luz laughs, a little embarrassed at being called the twins’ baby sister.  “Thanks, guys,” she says, breaking free of Emira’s hold.  She manages to rescue Amity from Edric’s arms, and the two of them sprint away before they can be grabbed again, the twins’ laughter following them all the way to the door.   
“Sorry about that,” Amity says, rolling her eyes.  “You know how they are.” 
“Uh huh,” Luz gulps, distracted by the way Amity’s hair is curling a little over her ears.  “I know how it is.”
Luckily, Willow and Gus choose that moment to walk inside, and Luz has an ample distraction.  “My friends!” She yells, draping her arms around their necks.  “Welcome!  Also!”  She lowers her voice.  “Did you know that I love you?” 
Willow laughs.   “We know that, Luz.  Wanna know a secret?” She winks.  “We love you, too.”  
“Happy birthday,”  Gus adds, hugging Luz, and then Amity.  “You’re super old now.”
“I know!” Luz says.  “I’m finally at the age that Taylor Swift always prophesied about!” 
Gus nods wisely.  “I know about Taylor Swift.  She’s a powerful warlock from your realm, is she not?”
“She is,” Luz agrees.  
“Happy birthday, Amity.”  Willow hesitates, and then opens her arms.  Amity’s face breaks into a huge smile as she accepts Willow’s hug.  “Thanks,” she says.  “I’m glad you’re here.” 
“Me too.”
Luz is trying not to get emotional, but having so much love surrounding her is making her want to cry.  Plus, seeing Willow and Amity get along so well makes her feel warm and fuzzy inside.
“Are you okay?” Amity whispers in her ear, and Luz jumps.  “Y-yeah, I’m totally fine,” she says, trying to keep her stuttering to a minimum.
“Are you sure? You’ve been acting a little weird for awhile now, and you kind of look like you want to cry.”
Ah, man.  Amity wasn’t supposed to notice that she’s been acting differently.  But at least this question she has an answer for.  “I’m just really happy,” she says truthfully, and Amity smiles.  “Me too,” she says.  “Happy birthday, Luz.”
As Amity walks away to talk to Willow, Luz tries not to stare after her.
She fails.
Amity looks like a goddess tonight.  She always looks good, okay, but something about tonight, under the glow of the fairy lights, surrounded by her friends and family, makes her shine undeniable.  Luz cannot comprehend how everyone isn’t staring at Amity right now.  
She wants to kiss her, right now, in front of everyone, but she feels like Amity might not appreciate that, and besides, Viney is walking in right now and for some reason Emira just spilled her drink all over the floor, and there are more important things to focus on, right?
(What could be more important than kissing Amity?)
She shakes her head.  Not now, Luz.  Not now.
Maybe tonight just isn’t the night, either.
She sighs, but then shakes herself out of it.  This is a party, and she’s going to enjoy it.
~
She doesn’t get to hang out with Amity much that night.  
Her friends all want her attention, and there’s a worrying moment where Eda starts growing some feathers on her arms, but the crisis is averted quickly.  She and King haul Eda safely into her nest, and Luz returns to the party, determined to at least hold Amity’s hand.
But Willow and Gus have started a dance off against Jerbo and Barkus, and there’s no way Luz is going to miss being a part of that.  She sneaks a peek at Amity, who is standing off to the side with her drink, looking content.  They lock eyes for a second and Luz’s breath is taken away. 
This is ridiculous. 
They’ve been dating for months.  This should not still be happening.
But, god, Amity is just so cool, resting an arm nonchalantly on the table, and Luz wants to run over there and-
“Luz, it’s your turn!!!!!” Gus screams in her ear, and the moment is gone again.  
It’s already midnight when she feels a tap on her shoulder.  “Amity!” she yells, and tackles her girlfriend into a hug.  “I haven’t seen you all night!” 
“Woah,” Amity says, trying not to fall over.  “I know, that’s why I’m here.  Could I borrow you for a second? 
Luz’s stomach flips itself over for absolutely no reason.  
“Uh, sure, yeah, what’s up?”
“I just wanna show you something.”
Amity grabs her hand and leads her up the stairs, passing door after door until they reach the one that leads to the roof.
“Why are we-”
“Shhh,” Amity says.  “Just come on!”
Amity doesn’t let go of her hand when they reach the roof.  “Close your eyes,” she instructs.
“Um, Amity,” Luz says.  “We’re like, a lot of feet off the ground.”
“Trust me,” Amity insists, and god help her but Luz does, so she complies.  Amity’s palm is warm in hers as she tugs her over a few feet until finally, she says “open them”.
“What are we-”  Luz falters.  Because there, on the roof, is an honest to god picnic.  Somehow Amity has hauled up a blanket and a basket, and it’s just so cute and cliche that Luz can’t stop the smile taking over her face.
“I figured we wouldn’t have time to talk tonight,” Amity says.  “And...well...I missed you, so-”  she gestures to the picnic.
“This is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen,” Luz says, sitting down on one side of the basket.  “I kept wanting to talk to you all night, but there was always something happening!”
“You’re popular,” Amity says simply, and Luz starts laughing before she realizes Amity is being totally serious.  
“Anyway,” Amity says.  “I made you something.”
Luz is really, really hoping it’s not a fairy pie, but instead, Amity pulls out a messy chocolate cupcake.  “Happy birthday,” she says, and Luz practically swoons.  
They share the cupcake, digging into it with messy hands and taking turns pointing out different stars.
“In my world, constellations are symbols for things,” Luz says.
“They are here, too!  For example, that’s the giraffe constellation.  It symbolizes death and destruction.  And that over there is the Titan constellation. It also symbolizes death and destruction!”
“Romantic,” Luz jokes.  
“I know, right?” Amity responds, sounding completely serious.  Luz has to stifle the urge to laugh.  She sneaks a peek at Amity and, oh, wow.  Her face is glowing in the moonlight.  She looks bright and bubbly and all the things she really is when her guard isn’t up.  Her eyes are shining and Luz could swear she’s never seen anything more beautiful in her fifteen years of life.
She needs to do this now.  There’s no better time, and even if there was, she simply can’t stop herself.  The words just fall from her mouth like leaves from a tree, but a lot more quickly and nervously.  
“Can I kiss you?” 
Amity stops mid-sentence, mouth still hanging open and finger pointing at the sky.  She blinks.  “What did you say?”
“I-”  Luz is losing her nerve really quickly, but before it’s gone completely she gathers up the rest of her courage and says “I really want to kiss you.  Can I?”
“You...you want to kiss me?”  Amity’s voice is full of wonder and her face is bright red. 
“Wait, why do you sound surprised? You’re my girlfriend, of course I want to kiss you!” Luz scrambles onto her knees and searches Amity’s face.
“It’s just...it’s been so long, and it never happened, so I kind of thought maybe you didn’t want to or you were uncomfortable or whatever, which would be totally fine, by the way-”
“Oh my gosh we’re both so stupid,” Luz smacks a hand to her face.  “I never kissed you because I thought you didn’t want to kiss me!”
“How could I not want to kiss you! Have you seen yourself????”
Amity’s hands are covering her eyes.  She’s clearly embarrassed at having admitted that.
Luz takes a deep breath and gently pries Amity’s hands away from her face.  Amity’s eyes instantly find Luz’s, and there’s a determination there that wasn’t there before.  They both feel it, this thing happening between them, different from what they’ve been feeling for the past few months.  It feels like every moment of their relationship has been leading up to this moment.  
“Can I-”  Luz starts, but is interrupted by Amity’s very enthusiastic “Yes!!!!”
Luz bites her lip, takes a deep breath, and leans in.
She closes her eyes.
The kiss feels a little like the first time she did magic, but light glyphs have nothing on this.  The butterflies in her stomach have migrated to her chest, and they’re fluttering hard enough to rival her heartbeat.  
She can’t believe this is happening.  
Their noses bump together uncomfortably, but she doesn’t care, she doesn’t care, because this is her first kiss and it’s with Amity and she’s flying flying flying.
They pull apart, but not too far.  
“Wow,” Amity whispers, and Luz nods.  “Yeah,” she says.  “Wow.”
“How have we not been doing that the whole time?”
“I don’t know,” Luz says. “But I’m more than happy to make up for lost time.” 
She leans in again.
18 notes · View notes
rouiyan · 3 years
Text
𝘗𝘜𝘓𝘓 𝘔𝘌 𝘜𝘕𝘋𝘌𝘙 [ 𝘯.𝘫𝘮 ]
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⧏ jaemin’s installment of the undone at twenty-one collective ⧐
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synopsis: one estranged at the hands of love and the other tethered to his reputation. it's no wonder they find solace within each other.
✧ bartender!na jaemin x (fem.) reader (ft. ex!mark) ✧ college au, almost fwb au
✧ genres : fluff, angst, slight comedy ✧ word count : 15.5k ✧ disclaimers : swearing, alcohol consumption, insecurities, anxiety attacks, mentions of sex (no explicit smut, as per usual)
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✧ author’s note — i'm so sorry to do this to you guys on a weekly, i swear, dropping double digit k fics is not normal and has definitely fucked with my sleep schedule ++ i hit 127 followers on thursday! for a total of four minutes but it was cool while it lasted! thank you! 
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maybe it all started when na jaemin got the job at the bar. it certainly didn't suit him, not the sweet boy he was, keyword on 'was.' he'd taken a course on bartending over the summer between senior year high school and his first year of college, just for fun until he realized he could actually use his license to get a job that paid slightly above minimum wage. maybe, it all started when he'd seen a classmate at the bar, a pretty girl at that, who'd smiled in a way that could only be classified as flirtatiously. maybe that's what had jaemin winking back, for the first time in his life. maybe that's what got him laid later that night. and maybe that's how he started to identify as more of a fuckboy than a heartthrob. it was a far out though new feeling, he thought. high school jaemin could never, he thought. 
but maybe it all started to come to an end when you walked into the bar for the fourth time that week, eyes rimmed red and breath already tinged with alcohol. you ordered a draft beer from him, something light to keep you slightly buzzed but not completely knocked out. the hands of the clock were nearing two in the morning and the bar, especially the area of the counter he was tending, was beginning to empty out. jaemin struck conversation once you were the only one left and seven minutes before his shift ended. 
he realizes, again, that you have zero recollection of him though he'd also struck conversation for the three nights before.
"how was your day, miss?"
you look up, head propped on your right hand, hand propped up with your elbow. "me?" slightly wary, you sit upright in front of the guy behind the counter. his smile never falters when he nods. you blink twice before remembering to respond, "i- no, i mean, today was okay," you slouch back into yourself, "a little less than okay, actually." the bartender's eyes widen in consideration, remembering that you had stopped at just 'okay' for the past days he'd asked you. he takes from this to offer politely, "do you mind if i ask what happened?"
your eyes are focused on the sink behind him, distractedly. almost forgetting to reply, you gather your thoughts by clearing your throat and pondering for a few moments before beginning to speak, hesitantly, "well it's like when you just know something bad's gonna happen, and you know for awhile. then it does happen and you don't get to be surprised or shocked because you already knew. so all you're left to feel is just," you heave a sigh, "sadness, or maybe even regret."
the metal nametag pinned to his chest glints in the lights above as he moves forward to place his elbows on the counter, leaning casually. you notice it to spell out 'jaemin' and a part of your subconsciousness is trying to make you remember that you know this guy. you know him from school, from rumors, from your gossiping friends, you know him from the bar even. but all you're able to process is that he is one hell of a good-looking specimen.
jaemin's eyes glint in the light as well when he poorly guesses, "did bad on a test? late homework assignment?" laughing and completely missing the fact that this 'stranger' had correctly assumed you to be a college student, you shake your head, "if it were either of those, i'd be awfully dramatic for coming to a bar and drinking my days away instead of studying." he's laughing as well and you can't help but think that his smile, straight pearly whites and all, is probably the most welcoming sight your eyes have laid upon the whole day. picking the conversation back up, you decide that it probably wouldn't do much harm to indulge jaemin in the latest and breaking news of your life. "actually, i was dumped today."
he sucks in a long breath in understanding, licking his lips, "so, a bad breakup. those aren't too fun." agreeing, you shake your head. the atmosphere is good-natured when you quip, "would it be worse to say that it was the eighth time too?" jaemin's brows shoot up in surprise and he pushes himself off his elbows, shifting his weight onto his hands. "eighth? as in eighth breakup or eighth time you've been dumped?" a chuckle escapes your complexion, giving way to how vulnerable you were feeling, vulnerable to a laughable extent. your eyes are cast downward when you respond, "the second."
jaemin pries in a way that doesn't seem like prying, you wonder how he does so. "care to share?" it's possible his range of bartender-ly duties extends to the likes of a therapist, "i mean, i don't see why not." you quirk your lips, the only thought coursing through your mind consisting of how the bridge of his nose was so carefully structured and how oversharing with this man didn't seem so much of a bad idea. you were, after all, far too caught up in your drunken stupor to think anything otherwise.
"let's see, i was ghosted by my first boyfriend in ninth grade, cheated on by my second, figured out that my third was only dating me for a bet, fourth just straight up stopped liking me, fifth lied to me about his age, objectified by my sixth, thought i was dating my seventh but turns out he forgot he asked me out, and my eighth...well, that one's a bit different."
he's back on his elbows, in intriguement and also due to the new song that began to play from the speakers above, louder than the last, "how so?" you're afraid the feelings are going to pour back within your forefront thoughts so you keep your answer short, "we dated for two years."
"and?"
you're quiet for a few moments. those moments are taken to mull over the exact reasonings behind your shitty day, almost as if you had forgotten. blinking slowly, the dryness of your contact lenses becoming apparent, you respond hesitantly, "and, he said he didn't see a future with me. that i could only ever be his first love."
jaemin seems to mull over this as well, "and did you see a future with him?"
you haven't looked up at him in a while, instead, focusing your sights on the way you've let your acrylics grow out far too long, how the skin around your nails is peeling, and how your palms are also creased with dry lines. using the same hand to lift the bottle from its handle, you toss the rest of its contents down your throat, swallowing in one motion. setting it back down, tongue grazing over your lips to catch the spilt extras, you look jaemin in the eye. 
"yeah," you move to collect your things, "i guess i did." you pay. you take your leave.
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he sees you again the following day, for the fifth time in that single week and he's led to wonder if there is a reason you seem frequent this one bar. the atmosphere possibly, the customer service maybe, or even him, though he's doubtful.
this time you're accompanied by two friends, one he knows to be jeno's best friend, eunmi, and the other, the crush of that same friend, jaein. jaemin's known eunmi for as long as jeno has, since the beginning of high school. jaemin also knows that eunmi, as of the late, doesn't like himself all that much. he figures it has something to do with the bit of a reputation his name now carries. 
jaemin thinks the girls are by your side for emotional support. perhaps, today proved even shittier than yesterday, but he's thwarted a few moments after when the three of you seem to be lost in the depths of interesting conversation, light-hearted laughter, and glasses that can't seem to fill themselves as fast as they empty into your stomachs, except for jaein, that is, but especially for you. 
it's 12:48 in the morning when he's thrown off guard for the first time that night, in the midst of whipping up a whiskey for the grumpy man down the counter, eunmi falls asleep, literal in the sense that she really does fall and would've completely sagged into the ground if the table had not been in gravity's way. jaemin watches as jaein lifts the poor girl's head off the surface, revealing an angry red splotch, and transfers eunmi's weight onto her lap. 
he's thrown off guard for a second time at 1:22, watching you stand straight from your seat, swaying a tad bit, but brows creased in strong will and determination. you're walking towards him, steps that would be quick if only you were even mildly aware of sidestepping the paths of others. you pant as you reach the table, head feeling a little too hot and too heavy to aid in clear thinking. squinting at him, though you were but a few feet away, "your name. what's your name again?" 
jaemin repeats the actions you'd done yesterday, slightly wary in expression and checking his posture, "me?" you don't reply but continue to scrutinize the way he looks. he supposes that's just as much of an answer, "it's jaemin, i believe we talked yesterday." your mouth parts in recognition and moves as if to form a word or two in response. jaemin watches as it opens and closes again and, even after much deliberation, the only thing you can find to say is, "well, you're fucking hot."
"oh-"
"shit, didn't mean to say that aloud." your lips smack in embarrassment, shifting your weight to your left foot. your mind is yelling at you to sober up, to save your face. 
a smile adorns the man's features as he bemusedly remarks, "i'm sure you didn't." there's a silence that hangs between the two of you, and you're on the cusp of excusing yourself from further embarrassment when jaemin blurts out, "if it helps, i think you're fucking hot too." it might just be the alcohol in your system that's making the heat rise in your countenance but you swear you blush, and you never blush!
fingering the lobe of your right ear, you fumble with your thoughts until settling on a quiet, "thanks." jaemin busies himself with swiping a rag across the counter, unaware of the awkwardness on your end. looking up, he offers, "would you like a drink?" nodding, you take a seat at the bar in front of him, eyes slipping back to the girls for a split second, only to see jaein on her phone and eunmi still asleep. returning your sights, you're met with a slight humor traced in jaemin's expression, "what?"
he lets out the smallest of chuckles, mouth moving but lacking words, sentences starting but never ending, until he finally makes himself clear. "you- would you mind ordering a drink then?" your hand comes up, as if you had a point to make, but returns into your lap as you realize you'd never elaborated. "oh," your hand resurfaces to massage your temples, "same as yesterday then."
jaemin doubts you even remembered what you'd gotten yesterday but goes on to fill a bottle of beer from the kegs behind him. you're staring at his back in wonderment at how lackluster in...social interactions you'd become, how lackluster in flirting you were. you guess two years of being cuffed would render anyone a little rusty. hell, it wasn't as if you were keen on flirting with every hot guy you saw but jaemin, not that you remember much, gave off the right feeling after a wrong relationship. that was surely a green light, right?
"here," he slides it across the counter with a wink, entirely out of habit. you wince at that, "ew no, don't do that around me, i'm not one of your fuckbuddies." retying his black waist apron, he replies with a, "right, you're not." he pulls a neat bow in place and sets his hands back on the counter, there's a lilt to his voice when he speaks, "but, if you ever feel like you need-"
you wave him off, "i'm good, thanks for the offer though." 
he watches you chug the draft beer. nodding, he replies under his breath, more to himself than anything, "i see." you finish the bottle in no time but it looks as if you were to vomit, or pass out, or maybe even black out, or all three at once. jaemin really does not mean to spur your flirtatious gene as much as his own but seeing you like this he offers, "it's on the house." you're definitely surprised for a good half of a second but in the other half, you drunkenly lean across the table, so far so that jaemin's nose is but a few inches away from yours. 
something in jaemin stirs. the stench of your breath, your hardened eyes, the delicate lines of your lips. jaemin finds that it isn't lust that rumbles beneath his carefully built expression. and though it might as well be some form of pity, he doesn't hesitate to take your phone from you when you ask, "can i have your number?" he doesn't mind the smile that graces your face as you take your phone back, as you turn around to head back with your friends, not even in the right mind to say a goodbye, and even as you exclaim, rather loudly, to jaein, "i got his number," a smile of his own is quick to light up his face. but na jaemin hides his silly smile and even himself a little later when jeno appears to drive the three of you home. he even goes so far as to hide the smile and the meanings behind the smile from himself, afraid that he'd uncover something that was very un-bartender-ly of him to feel for a customer. at least, that's what happens before he ends his shift. 
when you first wake up, it's at the sound of the door of your room clicking shut. jaein, you suppose, you'll thank her later. the ceiling is oddly comforting after a week that just didn’t start well, go well, end well. love isn’t your forte, loving yourself, loving others, anything to do with love. you supposed that getting dumped the seventh time would have made that quite obvious but you just had to throw yourself out there again, just to make sure. you fall once again to  sleep that night with nothing on your mind other than the thought that you might as well be single for the rest of your life. 
but you wake up in the love, not of a lover per se, but of a best friend. the post-it note on your bedside reads, text me when you wake up!, and the smile that lifts your face is instantaneous. jaein has never failed to care for you, despite being almost a year younger, and in that way and many others, you feel indebted to her. 
you fail to recall any of the events of the night prior, though if anything horrendous happened you knew jaein would be more delighted to share. you stumble across your phone somewhere in the sheets after searching aimlessly and you decide that making a call would perhaps be more thoughtful than a measly text. but as you scroll through the names in your phone, upset that you didn't have jaein's contact pinned in your favorites, you stop, well, your heart stops because right below her contact is listed na jaemin.
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you are two thoughts away from crossing over to tap the shoulder of the girl a little ways in front of you, her silhouette a great deal similar to jaein's, when a hand is placed on your own shoulder. you don't have a chance to turn and see who it is because that hand has traveled a little ways across your front, latching from one shoulder to another and bringing your body flush with his. you tilt your head to get a glance, only to find jaemin smiling down at you, the strobe lights glaring a brief red across his features. "been avoiding me?"
yeah no shit you've been avoiding him, suddenly nowhere to be found at the bar you used to appear at every single day of the week. and though the two of you attended the same college, you made extra sure to-
"jeno told me eunmi asked him for my lecture schedule for you, wonder why." a smirk grazes his lips, playfully. he’s grinding on your ass now, slow compared to the music blasting from overhead. taking your shoulder in his hands, he spins you to face him, "why are you avoiding me? tell me." jaemin places a hand on the curve of your neck, brings you closer to him, either so that he could hear your response better or because of whatever lust was running through his eyes. somehow, even with the minuscule amount of alcohol in your system, you can’t bring yourself to mind that he’s looking at you like some starved animal. 
"what do you want, jaemin?" he doesn't hesitate to show you, a lazy kissed pressed to your lips before leaning in towards your ear, "i want you in my bed."
no objections are made when the arm around your shoulder tightens its hold, so as not to loose you in such a crowd. nothing is said in opposition when he ushers you towards the stairwell, brushing past people left and right. no sign of reluctance is apparent when you cross the threshold of his room, shutting the door behind you. and not a trace of hesitance is found as you find a spot beside the man who's already placing a strand of wide kisses onto your neck.
"what'd you say about not being one of my fuckbuddies the other day?"
"well," you hastily move to straddle him, allowing him to a wider expanse of your chest, "i was drunk, fuck whatever i said." you lean back for the slightest of seconds to catch his expression, lust lined his eyes. certainly, you felt like one of his fuckbuddies now but maybe this is what you need, a distraction. just one thing in your life, one time, one moment in time where it wasn't so frustratingly shoved up in your face that your world, your one love, hadn't been torn down right before your eyes. maybe kissing jaemin with such raw desire would finally give you the reigns over your goddamned emotions. his lips on your collarbone, tracing down slower and slower onto your breasts, his hands guiding you lower and lower into his bed, it felt exhilarating. in that one second, when his fingers moved to the hem of your dress, eyes shifting to meet yours in question, you nod fervently because really, you want to let him in, you feel safe letting him in. 
but it only lasts for that one second because the door is burst open in the next, and a tipsy man and a wasted woman are storming on inside, eyes raking the place until they land on you and yours land on theirs, on his. mark lee. it's mark lee's eyes and as you take in the sight of the rest of him, the familiar him, and the girl by his side, suddenly nothing has ever felt more wrong. jaemin's lips, his hard on pressing against your core, nothing has ever felt more wrong when mark lee is staring right at you. why is it that you feel like you've cheated on him?
he leaves, pulling the woman behind him.
the party is alive, it's at its height, it's roaring and it's ravaging fun. the party is in full swing yet, for once, you're not partaking in it. "are you okay? do you need some water?" you lick your lips and decide, "some water would be nice, thank you." jaemin leaves the room, door clicking shut behind him and signaling your immediate breakdown.
a shudder passes your lips, reverberates down your spine, curls your toes. you draw into yourself, bringing with you jaemin's blankets on which you were sat. there is nothing more that leaks from your countenance than bouts of undisturbed anxiety that you let wrack your walls of understanding and awareness. you don't bother to fight back with distractions, no alcohol this time, no quick fucks, nothing to ease the weight that settles in your gut, presses down your heart and blurs the visions of jaemin's room.
he returns in seven minutes, promptly enough, for you're just about to wither in the confines of loneliness. the blankets are pulled taut around your figure and your head is in between your knees, mind flitting between images of mark and images of the darkness that threatens to envelop you whole. jaemin places the cup of warm water on the nightstand and dips the bed to your right though you barely register his presence until his hand begins kneading lines down your back. 
the feeling returns. the one you know all too well by now. the one where the skin on your forehead feels too tight from being scrunched in frustration for too long, when your brain feels like it doesn't belong in your skull, when you feel ruptures in your heart, aches in your soul, as if you were to combust if you so much as moved in the slightest. your ragged breaths echo in your head, over and over, as if to remind you that you aren't okay, that nothing is real, that the only thing keeping you alive are your breaths, the only thing between life and death.
your breaths are also what grounds you, focusing on the in and out, the way the air fills your lungs, the way it exits. your hands begin to mellow their shake and you begin to gain some semblance of your being. you feel that jaemin is all around you. he's everything you smell, his breaths are all you hear, his lean body and arms are all you feel, and though you can't see him, you know he's there.
he's there when you turn in his embrace, looking up at him with eyes that tell age-long tales of hurt from delivering too much passion whilst receiving near to none. he's there when you wrap your arms around him, head tucking into his chest. he's there when your breaths even and he's there when you tell him you can't fall asleep. 
jaemin hands you a set of his clothes, a light shirt and sweatpants, and ushers you gently into the bathroom. you change without looking in the mirror, afraid of what you'll see. he tugs you by the hand, once you're out, to the car. you only question him thirty minutes into the ride, "where are we going?"
he doesn't quite answer you, "if i'm right, we should be just in time." scrunching your nose in the darkness, "just in time for…?" 
it's then that he turns into a dim parking lot and suddenly everything becomes clear when the wide screen comes into view, "jaemin...you 50's romanticist." the time is almost four in the morning, you didn't know the local drive-in theater had screenings that early and you're surprised that the man in the driver's seat knows. he offers you a hand and you take it, absentmindedly. 
the movie is interesting enough to keep your begrudging thoughts away until an hour or so passes and you're beginning to teeter from exhaustion. before you have a chance to pass out, jaemin gives your fingers a little squeeze, alerting you, and then slowly tugging you over the middle console of his car and into his lap while lowering his seat. again, you comply absentmindedly, you're in no mindset to be complaining. 
straddling him for the second time that night, you sigh into his chest. your eyes are fluttering closed when you begin to trace back the moments that brought you to this mess in the first place, the events that led to you in na jaemin's lap, the boy renowned in bed. you're a conscious thought away from voicing aloud your hatred of love. fucking love.
the prospect of love is addicting to you, like a drug in many more ways than one. you want to get lost in someone's eyes, you want to swim in the embrace of your other half, you want to be able to romanticize every aspect of your life, to be able to attribute your everything to one single person who would do the exact same for you. you can't part with the thought that love isn't for you.
and you know that there really are people who live just fine being single, people who don't feel the need to share their every joy and letdown with a special someone, people who feel enough just being in their own company. you know that yet, you're fully convinced you just aren't one of those people. because no matter how hard you want to say that getting left in the dust for the eighth time became the turning point in this endless chase, you can't see yourself ever stopping. there is not a single part of you that wishes to stop. 
your breaths are shallow and brimmed with sobs as you drift into rest. above all that's been said, the least you can admit is that love is only a feeling. just like any other. 
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✧ ONE (01) YEAR AGO
"mark, what the fuck, we never go on actual dates." you complain, though you really don't mind all that much. the car pulls into a parking spot in front of the library, "and who's to say study dates aren't actual dates?" he opens the door for you and you roll your eyes graciously. 
the two of you take your usual spots, the two at the end of the long row in the central area. it's halfway secluded, one side shoved against the wall, but still enough in the open to keep you guys from entirely ditching school work and talking until shushed by a librarian. 
he's about to say something when a librarian appears just around the corner, pushing a cart of books. so instead, mark takes a piece of lined paper from his notebook, gently ripping it at the edge, taking his pen out and writing a line and passing the note to you. i'll take you somewhere nice next time. sorry babe, i just happened to have a lot of work today.
you press your lips together, eyeing the man that was eyeing you back, okay, my love. you pass it back, shooting him the most playful of smiles. he writes quickly and when he slides the paper back to you, you read his words quickly. sure thing, my world.
you giggle, the sound eliciting a glare from the stressed schoolmate beside you. quickly you jot down the words you've been wanting to say to him. fine by me, my future. you shuffle the paper towards the man across from you, unwilling to hide yet another smile that spreads across your face. you watch as mark takes the paper in his hands, skims the words you've carefully penned and then, he puts it away, tucks it into the front of his backpack. you smile fondly at him for safekeeping the paper, thinking he'd want to keep it as a little memento, a token of your love for him.
perhaps you should've thought a little more about it, the action, because in that moment it never occurred to you that he only put it away because he didn't want to respond, he had nothing in his heart that he could say to top that, and he most certainly did not see you as anything more, much less his future. 
that lined piece of paper has long been discarded by now, in the most literal and figurative sense. mark could chalk it up to the possibility that it was just the right person at the wrong time but he knows there's absolutely nothing wrong with the time. college was going to zip by quickly for the two of you, you guys could move in together maybe, tell each other about your new jobs, every pay raise you got, and when you guys begin to settle down, a house would be bought and a ring would be proposed, and kids and old age would follow. somehow, mark can't help but acknowledge the fact that it simply was the wrong person at the right time. deep down, he knows it's always been that way for him. not for you. and he could only hope to turn back time and tell you a little sooner, maybe lessen the pain he knew he was to eventually inflict upon you. two years was two years too long. mark’s a nice guy and the weight of being your eighth breakup had a tough hold on him, it really did.
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✧ PRESENT
you lift your feet up onto the other side of the booth, back against the window and your arrangement of your textbooks and computer to your left. jaein, studious as ever, looks up at you for a brief moment, "break? already?"
it's only been thirty minutes since the two of you arrived with the set intentions to study. "yup, already." you sigh, with everything going on, it's hard to pay attention to just one thing. especially something that seems so insignificant in the whole scheme of things. "y/n, are you getting enough sleep these days?"
you look over at her, her hair swept into a small ponytail, eyes holding the stars. jaein had her own fair share of problems, especially when it came to boys, but she never halted to care for herself. you wish you could be like her. "enough, yeah i'm getting enough." she puts down her pen, wrinkling her nose, "well then, make sure to get more than enough, yeah?" you only nod in response. 
jaein's eyes rome until they settle upon a girl a few tables down, also studying. she cocks her head in inquisition, "hey, isn't that minyoung?" you wait for jaein to look away before you take a peek behind you, not wanting to seem conspicuous. you know her, you share some of your professors with her, you see her almost everyday, but you've never been riled up by just her presence being in the same room as yours. you look back at jaein, "yeah, that's minyoung."
"minyoung as in the girl that jaemin's datin-"
"they're not dating," you intercept. sighing in distaste, you follow up to cover your evident aversion of the girl, "just fucking around." jaein only nods, eyes wide in worry.
a few minutes pass and you're already sinking back into your workload when she speaks, "does it bother you? that they- they're fucking around?" now, you're sinking into yourself because you really have no idea what you're supposed to be feeling, how you're supposed to be feeling, or even if you're supposed to be feeling anything for this boy who you know little to nothing about.
but you guess it's because of what you do know about him that throws you off. na jaemin, the campus fuckboy, heart throb, and whatever other name that makes his image sound as vile as it is enticing. in some other universe, you're sure to have already let him eat you out over the course of the few weeks you've known him but somehow, you're glad that you reside in the universe where your head seems to be more securely fastened above your heart. you lick your lips in consideration but nothing comes to mind. 
it's frustrating because as much as you hate to admit it, na jaemin makes you feel something. he stirs up something within you, something that hasn't been there in a long time. maybe not since your first crush or when mark first asked you out or even in the heights of your relationship with him when you felt like you could feel nothing more than love for the wretched boy.
you tell her, "it bothers me. it shouldn't, but it does." because though you don't know why. why you're feeling so strongly, or feeling at all, for a man so far from what you need after the end of a long-winded and committed relationship. you don't know why you even care, if anything, him fucking around with a handful of girls served even more as a sign for you to just stay away. getting invested in his small, thoughtful actions and his intense, loving stares is just asking for a ninth breakup. you don't know why but the idea of him being in bed with another girl, bothers you. it shouldn't, but it does.
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jaemin isn't ever invited to these types of outings. usually, on a weeks basis, he's invited to quite the number of houses instead. houses of girls and houses that housed parties. never a restaurant, and never in the middle of the day. jeno had let that he was invited because eunmi had some 'investigation' to do, so naturally, he'd expect you to be there as well. turns out this investigation was set up for himself only, seeing as he was now sitting at the far edge of the table, to the left of renjun, whom he had never personally met, and across eunmi, who seems to spend most the time scrutinizing him instead of eating. 
the purpose of his presence is made clear as eunmi sits up straight, gaze still fixed on him, and asks straight to the point, "what do you want with y/n?"
jaemin places his fork down calmly but his voice is anything but that, surprised, "i- what do i- what do you mean?" his hands are folded in his lap now, he wonders if this was the reason you didn't come, he wonders if eunmi asked him to come just to interrogate him in front of all your friends. she's still staring at him and though he's taller, he feels a great deal smaller when everyone's eyes are turned to him. hell, even jeno stopped ogling at jaein to give his attention to the scene on the other side of him. 
he clears his throat and reiterates, now with a sense of the atmosphere, "what do you mean?" jaemin blinks rapidly as eunmi heaves a sigh, placing two folded hands on the table and pushing her point to light, "why are you messing with her? you wanna fuck her? you know she's off limits for you." jaemin asks the two question he knows he'll end up regretting, he can't help the spite that curls at the edge of his mind for the girl who so fervently despises him, "why is she off limits for me, huh? got something against me?"
"yeah, yeah i do. you go around sleeping with every other girl you see, you, jaemin, you are the last thing she needs right now."
"who are you to decide what she needs-"
"i'm just looking out for her, okay? and, shit, i know she has every right to, i don't know, fuck around with you too, but i can't sit here and watch as she falls for someone that doesn't give two shits about how she feels."
jaemin finds that he has nothing to say. the words echo around in his head, fall for someone, fall for him. he stares down at his food, takes a sip of his water, wipes his clammy hands on a napkin. when he looks up again, eunmi's expression is a tenfold softer than it was before. 
"i'm sorry, jaem. it's just- i don't trust you anymore. you've changed a lot since, since…high school." jaemin only nods. 
revolutions are held within him as he drives home that day. jaemin notes that the feelings are nothing new, he thinks it has something to do with the little churns in his stomach on the fifth night of your week of 'get drunk, get wasted.' he doesn't bother to suppress the feelings this time, it's been too long, he thinks. 
it's been too long since he's liked someone for who they really are instead of just their pussy, he thinks. he, and his loving self, welcomes the feeling with open arms. it's been years since the giddy persona of a lovesick jaemin resurfaced. he's glad it's because of you.
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"jaemin, hey, do you need anything?" you remove your eyes from your computer screen for the first time in a few hours, you barely register the strain when his voice is quick to respond from the other end of the line, "can you come down? i'm outside, got a lil something for you." eyes almost ejecting out of their sockets, you quickly mutter a, "sure, i'll be down in two," before hanging up, slamming your computer shut, throwing on a hoodie over your lazy study-day outfit, and grabbing your keys after almost forgetting them entirely. 
straightening down the stray strands of your hair as you tread down the steps of the stairwell, you take a minute to breathe, a minute to yourself, before exiting the building. the sky is dark, the time being a little after dinner, but the lamplight that falls onto the man's face makes your heart swoon at the sight. dangerous territory. 
"hey," you voice as he meets you in the middle. "what are you-"
"here," he holds out a teddy bear, medium in size, brown and fuzzy. you take it from him graciously and he tucks his hands into his jeans pocket, "i was just-i just thought that you'd...yeah." chuckling, you notice the hues of warmth rise in his cheeks. "wow, didn't think you were one to blush." he's laughing as well, from the embarrassment, hand coming up to cover his cheeks, to cover his smile, his stupid smile. 
his smile never falters when he asks, "may i ask you something?" you nod, unassumingly.
"can i take you out on a date? next week maybe?"
breathless and eyes sparkling, you look up at him as if he were the one who put the sparkles in your eyes. he really was. now, it's you that blushes, hands coming up to cover your own cheeks, "yeah, i'd- i would like that." you almost want to coo at him when you see the relief that washes over his expression. 
"you would?"
"yes, jaemin," you give a breathy laugh, "i'd like that very much."
fucking love. that one stupid feeling that could get you so emotionally intoxicated in ways no substance ever could. the kind of love that made you want to scream into the void, to exclaim your sheer and utter elatedness to the world. fucking love that you could never not chase, especially if it was jaemin.
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mark never took pictures of you. not that you expected him to by default, he just never did. jaemin, however, shows up right outside your dorms, a camera hanging down from his neck. you can't say it doesn't charm your heart.
"what's that for?" you eye the camera as you slip into the passenger seat. you already know, you just love it when he says, "for you, of course." his hand holds yours as he drives and it stays that way until the two of you arrive. 
the botanical gardens are, for the most part, empty on the weekdays, working wonderfully in your favor as jaemin leads you, also by the hand, through the forests of greenery, the air so crisp that it fills your mind with clarity after a week of muddled studying. jaemin compares you to the likes of several flowers, all of which he implores for you to pose next to for a picture. he especially finds the daphne odora, the winter flowering of daphnes, to hold the highest esteem in regards to you. you have not the slightest idea why.
the two of you are strolling under the glass-covered conservatory when light conversation turns heavy. confusion lines your face as you look over at him, "jaem?"
"yes?" he takes an extra step or two to match your pace. you stare at his feet as you speak, "what's...what's different about me?"
"what do you mean by that?" hesitance sits in your every word, "you don't treat me like...one of them, like one of you're fuckbuddies."
"because you're not," he replies simply. in all honesty, there's something you're looking for, something you just need to know, though you are lost in how to phrase it. shaking your head a bit, to wrack the insides for an answer, you end up regurgitating the same question, "yeah but, what makes me different?"
jaemin doesn't seem to mind and answers to his best ability, "well, for one, we're not fucking. and then there's the fact that i- that…" he trails off, the words are right there at the tip of his tongue, waiting to jump out at you, to allow you to revel in his love. he doesn't dare voice them aloud, the threat of rejection is stemming and rooting itself in his bloodstream. unaware, you urge him on, "that…"
your date is lost in thought, eyes seeming to be particularly interested in a bloom of camellias. you suppose they're plenty interesting but you wonder how he'd lost the interest in speaking with you so quickly. was it something that you said? maybe asking him so upfront like that wasn't the best choice. jaemin, meanwhile, is panicking. sure, the camellias look beautiful but the millions of thoughts that course through his mind are each occupying too much space for his mouth to actually form a string of words that make coherent sense.
jaemin finally, finally settles on something to say, just as the two of you are rounding upon the exit. he subtly wishes he'd gotten a picture of you by the camellias. turning his sights back in your direction, he verbalizes, "are you going home for winter break?"
lips pursed, you shake your head, "no, i was just planning on staying at school-"
"do you wanna come with me? back home?" 
you stop in your tracks. jaemin walks on until the hand that's carrying yours is tugged to a stop. he looks back at you and sees the way you gulp, the way you refuse to return his gaze. he makes his way back to you, closing the distance he's created. jaemin is a few seconds, a few thoughts, away from recollecting his propositions with a 'nevermind' and a quick brush of a hand but you beat him to it, voice small, but instead of hesitance, it's laced in full conviction.
"yeah okay, i can do that."
it isn't until you're back in your dorms later that night, going over a couple of review sheets for your upcoming exam, that you think to do a little research. a new tab is opened, a few words are typed, and you're floored with what you're met with. 
the daphne odora (winter daphne), where 'odora' is latin for fragrant, is most noted, though not often, to be a symbol of doting love, as if to say 'i would not have you otherwise." it flowers in the winter and is primarily prone to wilting in hard soil and low sunlight…
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✧ SIX (06) MONTHS AGO
mark's parents give you a once-over before letting you in. just the way they look at you speaks volumes. you can only hope they don't treat you any different. for some reason, his house feels cold, unpleasant, unwelcoming. and though you thought any homemade meal should bring about a sense of warmth, dinner is passed in tight-lipped smiles and the worst type of small talk, small talk about the weather. 
retreating into his room after dinner, you decide to bring to light your worries, "mark, i don't think they really-" evident, he's already two steps ahead of you, "it's fine, y/n, they just haven't seen me date someone in awhile."
treading carefully over to his bed and placing a knee upon the sheets, you offer, "so...overly critical?"
he gives you a look, one that opposes your quavering brows and reverts your worries, "exactly."
"right," you huff a sigh of relief, as far as you know, you're convinced but the underlying layer of disbelief still holds true, "i'm gonna go get changed, okay?" you hear a mumbled, "okay" in response as you reopen the door, sights already on the bathroom at the end of the hall. it's when you're at the top of the stairwell, just before your destination, that you hear the conversation from down below, his parents you suppose.
"i'm just saying we shouldn't take this too seriously," by the pitch, you tell it's mark's mom. you move for the bathroom, uninterested, until his dad speaks up as well, "i know, especially with how she looks, exactly like her don't you think?"
"it's the eyes, they have the same eyes," your hand, just above the doorknob, is held in place. your face, expressions of the shock and concern that comes with the revelation, is unmoved. and your breath is no longer coursing air through your lungs.
"mark must still be really hung up on her if he's stuck with that replacement for so long," your hands being to shake and you're afraid that whimpers will arise in their wake, you make haste into the room, closing the door after enduring one last sentence. his mom chuckles, "poor soul, i hope he tells her soon."
you can't find the light switch but you're trembling fingers are quick to latch onto what you assume to be the shower dial, turning on the water to mask your loud sobs. you lock the door behind you, sliding down the back of it while letting out the briniest of tears. the rubber bathroom mat underneath you squeaks and your feet hit the vanity across from you. hands in your hair you can only pull at the strands, the strings of curse words and pain that emit from your figure more mental than physical.
you've never wondered what it would be like to be filed under 'replacement,' or to have a spot in someone's life as merely a disposable placeholder, someone whose presence was dictated solely by how well you satisfied the other's needs for closure, or lack thereof. now you're wondering if that is really all there is to love, satisfying each other's self-serving desires. you wonder if mark served some sort of purpose to you. but you could not, for the life of you, think of one. never in your life as now have you wanted so badly to see the good in a person you swore to love for perhaps the rest of your life. 
you want to look him in the eye and tell him that you can't take it anymore, the disrespect, the mistreatment. maybe you could be dramatic and throw a hand across his face, a cup of water to douse his senses. you'd think that a man so kind would be the epitome of committed lover, never one to be agenda-oriented, not that the mark you now pictured was some scheming wretch, but you had to keep in mind that even going as far back as when he first laid his eyes on you, the interest you saw in them was in reality just familiarity. somewhere in you, something about you, maybe not even your looks, resonated with the memory of someone that was already held close to his heart, long before you came along. you were just there so he could relive his past, relish in his memories, prolong the inevitable. 
but more than everything, you despise yourself. it's because of who you are, your willingness to be unfalteringly loyal even in the face of something so wrong, that makes it so you are always the backup plan, the last resort, the dumped and not the dumper. it's who you are that keeps you silent till the very moment he ends the whole damned relationship, till the very moment when there's no point in speaking out anymore, so that all that's left to do is to cry out. 
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✧ PRESENT
the sky is vast out in the countryside. the wind pays no mind to ruffling the leaves on the trees, branches already bare in the wake of autumn. you wished it could snow, just a little, though you doubt the early december rains would be so willing to fall into harsh winter so soon. jaemin ushers you to close the window your finger are flitting out of, he keeps ushering you, but you give him a shake of your head each time, you like the cool air. as he exits the highway, you finally slip them back in, tips of your fingers numbed raw, and jaemin looks at you in an 'i told you so' fashion before rolling the window up to keep the heated air within. 
as so many times before, he takes your hand in his while he drives. fussing, his own fingers now encasing and rubbing yours to build the warmth back up. you perk up as the surroundings start to speak more 'countryside' than 'middle of nowhere.' a gas station, diner, couple of shopping plaza are passed, "how much longer?" jaemin pulls to a stop at a red light, "four, maybe five." eyes sparkling, you turn towards him, bringing your legs up on the seat and pulling his hand in yours to your lap, "ooh, so we're close. really close."
the light turns green and jaemin waits for the car in front of him to move, "why? you nervous?" you squirm in your spot, under his gaze, "i mean, n- no," rubbing the back of your neck, "yeah, a little i guess."
"and why is that?"
your hand is still on the back of your neck, fumbling with your words, "well, i mean, your parents. and we're not even- yeah, i don't know." 
you say you don't know, yet, both of you know exactly what you're trying to say. 
jaemin's childhood home is quaint, with a big front and backyard, and the only house on his street that has offwhite siding paint and soft blue shutters. you'd never pegged him to be a countryside kind of boy. 
you've only known jaemin for the better part of two months, yet, the first thing his mom does is hold you in her warm, welcoming embrace. "y/n, dear! such a pleasure to have you here, you're all jaemin talks about over the phone." you blush at that, pulling away from her to give your most sincere smile. you wonder since when blushing was your thing.
his mother does her absolute best to learn your whole life story over the course of one single meal and his father is gruff but fails to hide a smile at your small attempts at anecdotes while jaemin full on chortles on his food. you're glad that not once do they bring up the questionings of your and jaemin's relationship because frankly, you have no idea what the whole deal with it is yourself. 
even after dinner, his mother is quick to pull you into the living room, tightly bound photo albums stacked high in her hands. as the two of you coo over two-year-old jaemin taking a bath, four-year-old jaemin at his first piano recital, seven-year-old jaemin's face smushed in his birthday cake, the actual jaemin finishes up washing the dishes and makes his way to his packed bags, unveiling a pack of...you're not sure.
he sits to your right, setting the paper envelope on the table. you pick it up just as he puts it down. peering in, you pull out a bundle of photos strapped together with a measly rubber band. slipping it off, your eyes soften when you realize that almost two thirds of the stack is just you, and then a flower or two, and then some more of you. 
jaemin and his mother are hovering over your shoulders on both sides when you reveal the last picture, one of you and jaemin that he had so kindly asked another visitor to take, the daphnes in the back. he had said something funny, you wish you remembered what it was, and in the moment you were looking up at him with your face scrunched in amusement, but it was too late, the picture had been taken. the man on your right takes the laminated photo from you, "i think," he starts, hands navigating the photo albums to find the most recent one. flipping it open, he slides it into the slot underneath a picture of him at his high school graduation, "i think it goes here."
jaemin gives his mother a look, unbeknownst to you, and she dismisses the two of you hurriedly to go off to bed, to get some rest after a long car ride. jaemin doesn't think much of that, apparent in how he does urge you to shower, unpack, and get comfy in his bed but also keeps you up, talking into the depths of the night.
he explains to you, later after you had asked, why his albums only went up until the end of his high school days. his head is propped up on the pillow, body strewn on the thin mattress of his bedroom floor, but both upturned to you perched on his bed. his room is a showcase of his younger years, far before you knew him, and even farther before you heard rumors of him. the walls are littered with certificates of merit, ribbons of academic excellence and his shelves, instead of books, have been cleared out for an abundance of trophies, for innumerable instruments, for perfect attendance, for anything and everything a person under eighteen could be awarded for. you'd never pegged jaemin to be a countryside boy, and added on to that, you'd never have pegged him to be the goody-two-shoes his childhood home so plainly made him out to be. 
he tells you, himself, how college had changed him, how freedom had changed him, how being admitted into the fraternity changed him, how parties, underage drinking, sex, how it all rewrote the person he used to be. he looks you in the eye and tells you how much he loved the thrill, the adrenaline, the popularity, the sheer magnitude of people he had swooning over him, at his feet, on their knees. he tells you he loved it and that he's not so sure if he loves it now.
"why the sudden change?"
jaemin could tell you that he doesn't know, really, that maybe he just grew up a little and saw his time wasted, that perhaps he realized all the fights he had with his parents were simply not worth it. or, he could tell you the truth.
"because of you."
"what do you mean?"
"i mean," he's scrambling to sit up straight now, so he can look you in the eyes. if he's going to do this, he's going to do it properly. his eyes level with yours, lips freshly licked, he dives in the deep end. "i think i just- i met you at your worst. and we talked, and we, i don't know, flirted, and everything was supposed to just pan out how it usually does. you know, in bed. but it didn't." you've sat up as well, feet hanging over the edge of his bed and barely scraping the floor. you reach to hold both his hands in yours, though you have not the slightest clue where he is going with this tangent. "it didn't, but even then, i- i never-" it seems that even he doesn't know.
jaemin's hands start to clam in yours but there's an underlying determination that still holds strong, he's nowhere near done. "i never stopped going after you, and not at all for the sex. i- it was really just for you."
your jaw unhinges itself, hand not bothering to cover, thoughts elsewhere. what you thought might've been his life-changing, inspirational, heart-spurring tale, is turning out to be something you were inexplicably unprepared for. your newly sprouted tears are at the brink of overflowing as you try to make sense of the mess your mind has already made for itself. the questions are almost pushed over the precipice of your tongue before jaemin clears the air with finality and a handful, of in-the-moment confidence.
"y/n," jaemin's fingers glide over your knuckles in half the rhythm of your heartbeat, "i met you at your worst and i think that somehow it made me realize that i was also at my worst. and i don't know what people have to say about two sad people falling in love, all i really know is that i like you. i really fucking like you."
as if on cue, you start crying right then. "fuck, jaem," you pull your hands from him to swipe at your face and he's moving onto the bed as he speaks, dumbfounded, "why are you crying, y/n? is this like a 'i like you back and i'm happy' or 'i don't like you back' kinda cry?" you throw your head back in unprecedented laughter as he takes you in his embrace. your head rocks back and rests on his shoulders, arms coming up to encase them. "it's a 'relieved that i'm not the only one' cry."
he draws back, hands still holding you at the waist, "so, i'm taking that to mean you like me back?" you lick your lips, "maybe...possibly, you'll have to find out on your own." jaemin shakes his head, the back of his right hand coming up to caress the apples of your cheek. chuckling he retorts, "you're saying that like i don't already know. eunmi kinda let it slip a few weeks ago." 
"she what?!"
"well, she kinda said that you were falling for me or something like that."
"well," you stop, in confoundment of being left in utter betrayal, "well, she's wrong. tell her that i said she's wrong."
"but you-"
"no, fuck what i just said, she's wrong."
"i- okay," jaemin watches you fall back onto your back with a huff, he follows shortly. the ceiling the both of you stare at and beyond is rightfully comforting after a week that just happened to start well, go well, end well. maybe love is your forte, after all, loving yourself after all that's happened, loving others despite all that might go wrong, anything to do with love. you suppose the getting dumped the eighth time would have made that quite obvious but you just had to throw yourself out there again, just to make sure. and boy were you glad you did just that.
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jaemin is cutting fruit when it first begins to snow. apples are especially delectable in the winter, he knows he's bound to love them even more after this one winter. you're on the couch when it begins to snow, just shy of beating your long-withstanding high score on some game you were admittedly terrible at. jaemin joins you on the couch with the plate of apples, moments after it beings to snow.
"jaem," your lay a hand on his thigh, your sights elsewhere, "look, it's snowing."
you're scrambling to get a scarf around your neck, your boots zipped, the turtleneck underneath your coat pulled to your chin. the sky is almost dark, sunset not entirely visible under the veil of clouds. jaemin can't decide what is more enlightening, the snow or you and the ear-splitting grin that takes up half your expression. he decides that it's you. 
you aren't even allotted the time to make snow angels before his lips are on yours. it's not the first time the two of you have kissed but neither of you will deny how different it feels. jaemin guesses it's because the way his lips move against your is fueled by untainted adoration and he suspects the same from you. he molds them steadily, wanting to take delight in the feeling for as long as hig lungs would permit. specks of snow dust the crests of your cheeks and the tail ends of his eyelashes. they heat in contact with your skin and begin their descent, deliquescing as they stray down the curves of your cheeks, meeting at your mouth that so fervently moving again jaemin's. it's where the cold melts of snow meet the warm mix of salivation. 
you wield all the experience you will ever need, yet, it feels like it's your very first kiss, butterflies stirring down in your tummy and all. it never ends, it really doesn't. not when he first parts for air, or when you part the time after that, or even when you notice his mom, hands on her hips, from the window, or when the snow begins to clot at your feet. 
you think you love him.
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despite all the thoughts that tell you it's cheesy, it's boring, it's lame and conventional, you tell him on valentine's day. 
the party is alive, it's at its height, it's roaring and it's ravaging fun. the party is in full swing and as what is now considered usual, neither you nor jaemin are eager in partaking in it, opting to simply hang out in his room, above the loud music and the moans from the opposite ends of all four walls. the door is locked this time and instead of joining the crowd in the main event of fucking each other senseless, the two of you have a small setup on his bed, littered with textbooks, previous exam papers, a fancy charcuterie board, courtesy of the dedicated chef, jaemin himself. you're on your back, feet hitched upon the headboard and laptop positioned at a ninety degree angle on your ninety degree angled legs. jaemin is on the floor rather, using the bed as a makeshift table even though he has an actual table not two feet away. 
"i wish we could go to your dorms, it's loud as fuck." in response, you heave a sigh, mind now sidetracked from your work, "a pity i live on the fifth floor, we have no chance in sneaking you in." a thought dawns on him and he wonders why neither of you thought of it before, "let's go to the car."
it's quite the sight and you're sure anyone who's actively paying attention would laugh. jaemin's arms are locked straight up, supporting yours, his computer, and three textbooks, as he navigates the swarm of people to the exit. you're, following in tow, arms held up in similar fashion but instead of a stack of books, you're hoisting the charcuterie board, still abundant with cheese and grapes and a dip of honey. the threat of everything toppling over is very much apparent.
he'd driven a little ways down his street so that the buzz of the party could be left fully behind. the only thing aiding your studying is now the low-grade yellow lights that come with the fold down mirrors. "holy shit, jaem," your mouth waters even as it anticipates its next bite. "what?" he glances over at you. the charcuterie board is hiked on your knees that are drawn to your chest, makeshift tables are all too common today it seems. all the cheese on the board have an identical bite on them, a result of your taste testing but it seems that only one has drawn your liking so much so that you have eaten most the portion provided. "this- the- what's this one?"
"petite jalapeño, why?"
you cover your mouth as you chew hurriedly, "it's so fucking good, babe, with the honey. oh my god, i love you." you've finished chewing but you don't notice what's left your mouth, definitely not food.
"you what?"
you're thoughtlessly thrown into his trap, "i love- fuck."
"you love fuck."
"wait no."
you put the plate on the dashboard, dusting off your hands while your cheeks dust rose under the dingy lights. "i- wait, yeah i," you shift a leg under you, turning to your boyfriend but refusing to look him in the eye. you speak to the outlines of the house two down from his, "i guess i do love you."
"y/n, look at me."
you shy away from him, embarrassed yet overcome with the sudden wash of feelings. you knew this, you do love him, so why is it so hard to voice aloud? he brings his hand to your chin, leans it towards him until you have no choice but to gaze into his loving stare. truth be told, you wouldn't have it any other way.
"i love you too."
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your fingers play with your bottom lip, thrusting it up and down, left and right as you mull over which picture to post. "bummer, i look great in this one but you're blinking. ugh." swiping to the next one, you find that it's the last. "here," jaemin unlocks his phone with one hand, holds it out for you, "i think i have some that jaein took, she's better at taking pictures than jeno anyways." taking the device from him, you click into his photos and find the last two hundred or so to be just of you and the lavender fields, he hasn't changed a bit. 
jaein does have a lot more sense, "wow my legs look so long in this one," and "geez, that hair flip was entirely unintentional, i must be a natural." jaemin rolls his eyes at that, one hand of his on the wheel while the other makes its way over to your thigh, rubbing a soft, distracted massage. 
the first red flag that draws your attention. you're airdropping a cumulative 54 photos to your own phone when you see a name that you had long forgotten in his top three message chats, minyoung. you ignore it. you post the picture. you edit the caption seven times, each time becoming more indecisive than the last while jaemin gives you the incredulest of looks.
you decide to stay at his place for the night, not that it's an inconvenience to drive the extra two minutes back to your place, but just because he wants to spend the night with you. there's no objections, why would there be?
the second red flag that draws your attention. jaemin's showing you something on his phone, a video of a dog maybe, you've forgotten. the text that drops down while the two of you huddle over the screen holds your interest far longer. it's minyoung and she's telling him to come over. you're slightly alarmed, you're boyfriend even more so. he draws his phone back instantly, to your dismay, and you almost want to snatch it from him, to delve into the depths of the chat. you really almost do. 
"jaem, what did i just see?"
"y/n, it's not what you think," it irks you that he's so quick to defend. you keep your head on cool for now, "okay, then what was it about?" his eyes shift from yours to the wall behind you, you're surprised they're lined with annoyance. he shakes his head, "nothing."
you're thinking it's all the more reasonable for you to be the one who's annoyed. you bit down harsh on your lip, refusing to give way to any of your many impulses, "if it's nothing then why can't you tell me?"
jaemin glances over at you, fleetingly, "i- it's not something you should be worried about. just, trust me, will you?" rubbing your hands down the fabric of your- his sweatpants, you utter a sigh, not sure of how much longer, how many more times you have to be left in the dark, for you to snap at him. you hope it isn't soon. "jaem, i trust you, i do. but that doesn't mean i'll believe everything you say blindly." you note that, for whatever reason, his pupils are shaking. "at least, not after what i just saw."
"then i don't know what to say. you have to trust me on this."
na jaemin has never been stubborn, or, he's never had a reason to be. everything goes accordingly to the way he wants to, that's how it's always been. maybe it's because of his endearing charms that teachers can never fail him, that compliments are always showered upon him. perhaps it's the way he flatters that makes him so likeable, befriending people is as easy as reciting the alphabet when you've frequented too many parties and met too many people. he knows that when he kisses up, people will bow down, he's never been rejected. it's definitely because of his good looks that girls always spilt their legs open for him, they never say no. 
na jaemin gets what he wants, except when he doesn't.
"no."
you leave because you have trust issues, sure, who doesn't, who cares. who cares if there are tears streaming down your face for seemingly stupid reasons? it isn't the first time, it's nowhere near the first time. it's the same feeling you had when you realized your first boyfriend wasn't going to reply back, there's still a read seven years ago below your text. the same feeling when you saw your second kissing your 'best friend.' still all those years ago, when you were two steps away to the lunch table when you heard your third whisper to his friends, "just a stupid bet with a stupid girl." when your fourth told you he lost feelings for you when you were still madly in love with him and when you had to found out from your oldest sister that your fifth was her classmate, in grad school, while you were still in your last year of high school, not even old enough to vote. your sixth trying to strip you of your virginity right after you agreed to be his girlfriend and your seventh basically forgetting you existed. you were getting the same fucking feeling all those months ago when you finally realized your rightful position as 'replacement,' as 'number 2,' as 'poor soul.' maybe distrust is simply inbred in you and though you know the prospects of yours and jaemin's relationship are far from over, you can't deny the gut feeling that your bad luck in men is coming back to haunt you, that it's never left in the first place.
na jaemin forgets that he has a past he can't erase, just like you. the girls he's fucked over the past three years have hearts and they have reasons they began to fuck him in the first place. he couldn't heal their hearts, nor his, but sex did a great deal, made a great deal of people jealous, gave him all he needed at the time. he never expected them to simply go away when he decided to settle down but it seems that his reputation holds so much worth that it's proving hard to overcome it himself. jaemin hates that you date the campus fuckboy, he hates that people still whisper in your ear that he's fucking so-and-so in the dead of night. he hates that he can't get rid of the stigma around his name, even though you know, through and through, that he can't nearly live up to it anymore. you know yet, you leave because of it. his reputation. na jaemin, certified eye candy and delectable dick, wishes he was anyone but himself.
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her bare feet shuffling down the hall is the only thing she hears. she wishes they let people wear shoes on the second floor so she could've busted her heels out and clacked her way to his room. she needs the rush of empowerment right now. she needs it. 
the next thing she hears is the sound of raised voices right as she is about to shove the door open, the door fifth on the left of the hall to the right of the stairwell, exactly where you'd told her he'd be, albeit reluctantly. 
eunmi is taken aback now that she recognizes one of the voices behind the door. minyoung. gritting her teeth, she presses her ear to the wood, careful to keep quiet. 
"so you're fucking her now? is that what you're trying to tell me?"
"minyoung, i'm not fucking her. we're dating, it's been that way for awhile," he sounds exasperated, maybe, eunmi can almost see the crease in his brows.
"why didn't you bother to ask me if i was fine with it? we had a thing going, you can't just bail on me like that."
"the only thing we had going was quick fucks every thursday. i'm sorry, but i don't think that's much of a relationship."
her voice is growing impatient, in desperation like she's grasping at loose strings, hanging on to whatever she can find, "this little bitch- does she even know? how much of a dick you are? are you just going to leave her like you did me?"
"stop, minyoung, please,"
but eunmi guesses her point is valid nonetheless, she herself doesn't think very highly of him. "how would she feel if i told her that? that leaving is your specialty? you can fuck me, and all my friends and leave, thinking that we'd never know, but we know, okay? and if you- if you ever think that you'll be satisfied with settling down for this chick, think again jaemin."
eunmi backs into the restroom across the door, for good measure and good sense because minyoung is storming out the second after, unaware of her eavesdropper. a minute and a glimpse later, she knows that jaemin is crouched by the foot of his bed, though she's unsure why.
she braves herself because she's here for answers. reappearing at his door, she calls softly as if raising a white flag, "hey there." jaemin's head snaps up instantaneously in surprise. "oh, hi, what're you doing here?" he lowers himself to sit on the floor and eunmi takes the spot in front of him, wariness in her movements. 
"well, i came here for y/n, obviously, but um, i just happened to hear-" she's cut off when jaemin lets out a low groan into his hands. eunmi makes her stance a little clearer now that she has a better feel of the situation, "i'm not here to break up with you for her or anything. she didn't really want me to come, but i guess, i guess i came because we've also had our fair share of...disagreements that i think we should set straight," she pauses, hands fiddling with her thumbs in her lap, "i'm sorry if this is too much after, all that."
he looks relieved at that, "no, it's fine. i- i'm glad you want to, i don't know, make up. i haven't really been all that great of a friend these past years anyway."
eunmi lets a smile slip at that, what an interesting turn of events, "so...friends?"
"friends."
"and just to set the record straight, you're not still fucking minyoung right?"
jaemin rolls his eyes, shakes his head, gesticulates with his hands, "no, i got y/n. she's all i really need." eunmi nods to fill the awkward silence that follows. she's reminded of another inquiry, "so why didn't you just tell her that?"
"i guess i just didn't want her to worry or like- or get involved with my past, stuff like that. i kinda hated how it's dredged up all the time, especially now that i've, i don't know, settled down, committed."
"should've just told her," eunmi deadpans. 
"i really should've," jaemin agrees.
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"need me to drive you?" jaemin's extra careful with his words today, post-arguments can be fickle, particularly if they're only halfway resolved. your voice is muffled on the other end, "no, i'll walk." jaemin's wishes he'd insisted it instead of simply offering, late spring rains weren't all that uncommon, and even more so when the skies are darkening as they are on this specific day. "it might rain though," he tries again. you decline again, "i'll manage, thank you."
he sees you in ten, fifteen minutes or so, and sure enough, you're drenched head to toe, staring up at him with eyes that bear in mind the tension that hangs in between you and also border the bounds of laughter at how you're dripping wet with no one to blame but yourself. jaemin bites back the 'i told you so' and hurries to get you dried off with a towel, changed, and under the sheets. by then, the tension has subsided considerably.
"you wanna talk about it?"
you're tired, though it hasn't even struck five on the clock, "i thought that's what i'm here for."
"so, i'm not fucking her-"
"nice to know-"
"-just had some loose ends to tie up-"
"-and did you?" jaemin supposes you're far too tired to be emitting the same, resolute aggressions as a few days prior seeing as you're keeping your voice to a minimum and the words that come out are straight to the point, blunt. he does his best to reflect the same straightforwardness.
"i did, she's...off my back, our back...our backs."
you give him a look, scrunch your nose, and tug him by the arms into you. there's a blanket separating you two but he fits exactly against you anyways. you wonder how anyone could ever get in between the two of you if you so perfectly mold alongside him. the bridge of his nose nuzzles down your neck and you're laughing because it doesn't get any better than this, really. 
he shuts the light on the bedside table off with an inattentive hand, the blankets are drawn back and he's pulled flush into you. his body heat is welcome on a frigid night and the blanket that falls back on top of him seals the both of you within the confines of his bed for the hours to come. you're starting to think that coming here was more just to cuddle than it was to make up with him.
"i can't get enough of you," his face is in your neck.
"and why is that?"
"because- because everything about you- i feel like i'd be missing out if i never tried to start something with you," he buries himself further in your scent, "it's like i emptied my heart out just so you could fill it back up."
your chin rests on the crown of his head, it tickles him when you speak, now in half wakefulness, "could say the same for you." 
jaemin whispers into your ear, breath fanning down onto your neck, words that will only ever be for you, "i would not have you otherwise."
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jaemin spent your spring break at your hometown, to meet your parents, both of which loved him dearly. he wouldn't dare voice it aloud but he thinks it's the sweetest that your mother holds you, her youngest daughter, in such high-esteem after bringing home who she thinks to be the 'most gorgeous man alive,' an utterance he was sure was not meant for him to hear.
he likes being the 'most gorgeous man alive,' especially if you were the one who thought so, but as he watches you stare intently at the flynn rider's jawline, his own jaw clenches. tangled is playing as the pre-movie for movie night, the movie that plays before people actually start to arrive since, donghyuck and eunmi are always destined to be at least an hour late. but it's not that that gets him the most riled up that night, riled up isn't even the right word. maybe agitation, at whoever thought it was a good idea to invite mark lee. mark fucking lee, the grad student. the whoever turns out to be chenle and although jaemin does not have it in him to beat the kid up, he is sure as hell watching over the dude from the moment he walks in to the moment he leaves.
more than that, he also keeps his eyes on you as well, tracing your expression with every word his goddamned senior ought to speak. "hey, y/n, how have you been?" jaemin glares. as far as his detective senses go, he figures that marks target for the night isn't you, but rather eunmi. he hopes he can get over this as quickly and neatly as possible. your face twitches into a smile, uncomfortable, he thinks. "fine, i've been fine. you?" jaemin wants to draw you back and tell you that you had no obligation to be so polite, that the 'fine' would have done its job splendidly on its own.
"pretty good myself, looks like things have been happening around here, huh," jaemin hates the way he wriggles his eyebrows, "hyuck and eunmi, you and him." jaemin hates how he just referred to him as 'him,' surely, there was a lot more due respect than that. "yeah, and jeno and jaein but that's-"
"oh psh, old news," the two of you laugh, you laugh with him, with him. jaemin is just about ready to throw hands when mark excuses himself to get a seat on the floor, serves him right, he thinks. you look comparatively calm next to the raging boy. why is he the only one bothered by this?
"you good there? didn't even say a word to him."
he gulps, "yeah, i'm great. just didn't feel like talking."
you're staring at him like you can see right through him, that's exactly the case, "i'm over him, you know?" jaemin scratches at his neck, "yeah, i know." head on his shoulder as the first official movie of the night plays, you sigh, "no need to get all worked up, i'm all yours." 
the twentieth century fox theme plays in the background of the romance novel you live in. na jaemin makes you feel that way, unfailingly, every single day. it's written in the ways he kisses you, lovemarks blooming under your skin. it's written in the way he stares at you, with nothing else except pure, unadulterated love. it's written in between the lines, his actions, his thoughts, everything that amounts to so much more than the past years of deprivation you've had to endure. it's written in the stars, out in the countryside where jaemin could never fake a smile, not in the presence of you. with you by his side, not in a million years.
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it's here. summer fucking break is finally here. and if there's anything to prove that, it's the way you're currently sitting in a car with all your friends. taking a short little road trip out to the beach. now, mind you, these are the same friends that were there on your drunkest nights, slumped over bar counters and blatantly asking for any hot guy's number. the same friends that accompanied you on your most sober nights, holed up in your single-person dorm room, trying to study for an exam for a class you could never wake up in time for. and among those friends is one who has an added prefix, your boyfriend, na jaemin, who's in the driver's seat per your request since your carsickness prevented you from any other seats and you really wanted him by your side. jaemin didn't seem to mind driving, after all, he was next to you. 
the sun is setting too fast and eunmi, sitting in the seat in the far back, complains that they'd have to set up the bonfire right away instead of getting to play in the warm water while it's warm. donghyuck, beside her, is complaining too, but not about the bonfire or even the trip in general, but about eunmi and her legs which are hoisted on his lap, something about how his dingaling needs to breath. jaein, in the seat right behind you is musing on about how she thinks it'll be funny when they arrive and see yeseul and renjun's car torn up in two, neither of them could ever get along. jeno, to her left, is fussing with rubbing sunblock on her, getting angry at how her hair could never stay out of his way. 
you glance over at jaemin who has this smile on his face. this smile that makes it seem like he's in adoration of the whole scene panning out in the rearview mirror. he takes a glance over at you too and, if even possible, his smile beams wider, straight pearly whites and all. his hand finds yours.
it's already dark when the eight of you arrive but eunmi isn't complaining anymore since the boys make quick work in getting the bonfire set up while letting the girls play in the water. the ocean water licks at your feet as you watch eunmi and yeseul duel in how much water they could spray at each other, jaein sitting on the shore off to the side, watching as well. you're pondering going over to accompany her when eunmi's hand latches on your left arm and tugs the whole of you into the water with her. it's warm and wouldn't have been entirely unwelcoming had you gotten a notice in advance. 
you make fun in chasing them around, kicking up water in eunmi's face one too many times that she begins to choke on the saltiness. yeseul is now on the shore yelling at renjun. and jaein is doing her best with a tent. eunmi, who's back you were currently rubbing, is almost through with her fit and you think the mischievous face she's pulling means another round but she brings up a question instead, "how's he in bed?"
she's right if she assumed you'd chuck another armful of water in her face.
you sigh in annoyance as jaemin tosses the towel over your head once again, unsatisfied with how the tips of your hair were still wet. his fingers are ruffling fast and making quick work to dry the strands but you're upset. "jaemin, babe, we've been standing here for ten minutes, can i go now?" your head resurfaces as he gives the towel one more tug, smiling, "just making sure you don't get sick." he follows as you duck into your shared tent to get ready for the bonfire. "shit, jaem. i didn't bring an extra top," you frown but he only smiles wider and grabs his hoodie from the ground beside the sleeping bags. "lucky for you, then," he tugs the article of clothing over your head, only speaking again once your eyes peek out, "because i love seeing you wear my clothes." 
you give him a nose scrunch in return but every word of his, every single word that comes from his mouth is enough to get you swooning. you follow him out the tent.
"so," donghyuck's eyes are playful in the light of the fire, "what game are we playing today?" jeno groans, "do we always have to play some sort of game? why can't we just like…" even he's unsure of what to do. the eight of you are situated around the blazing fire that's, not quite large enough to be a bonfire, but does its job in keeping you warm. jaein perks up after much deliberation, "how about...we go around and each make a wish?"
donghyuck huffs, "fine by me." it starts with jeno, and though you truly value each and every one of your friends' wishes, there's only one that you really remember for the rest of the night, the day, the week, the month, and the years to come. jaemin clears his throat, the rest of the group watching him including you, the you he turns to. you're huddled over on the log beside him, wrapped up in his hoodie and hair an absolute mess. your eyes are heavy and he already knows that once everyone decides to call it a night, you will be the first to leave. you're looking at him in tired anticipation and mild interest, he hopes what he has to say tells you all he needs you to know. 
"i already have you, so there's nothing left to wish for."
the rest of the group breaks off into 'oohs' and 'ewws' but you swear that you and jaemin, jaemin and you are stuck in your own little world. his gaze is incredibly soft and endearing, you scoot closer and place a head on his shoulder, his hand coming around your frame in automatic response. leaning into his warmth, you feel closest to home than you ever have before. 
jaemin carries you to sleep later that night. and even later that night, or rather early in the morning, when you rustle awake, he's aroused by you as well. the two of you sit on a towel atop the dry sand, right before where the tides ride up the shore. basked in the moonlight, jaemin's skin beams a pale sheen and his eyes are cast over darkly, ethereally, divinely. your head is still on his shoulder and you feel the words vibrate through you when he speaks, "did you have fun today?"
you tuck a lip under your front teeth and nod for him to feel. he asks another question, "how are you feeling?" this time, you aren't able to part with just a shake of your head so you sit up, eyes never leaving the push and pull of the sunless ocean, "i feel...happy."
he looks over at you, not in surprise but in interest, "happy? why do you feel happy?" you shrug almost, musing off whatever comes to mind first, "i don't know, school just ended, this trip, summer break. i have a lot of reasons to be happy." jaemin isn't sulky at that but he does his best to pull his name from you, "and what about me?"
you dare a glance over at the man next to you, his eyes already boring into yours, "well, you too, of course." looking away as quickly as you'd looked over, you mumble quietly, "actually, more because of you than anything." in your peripheries, you see him give you a look that speak 'that's what i thought' and you clip down your smile in favor of a shake of your head. 
moving from your spot, you surprise jaemin when you block his view of the seaside. he settles you down into his lap with familiar control, arms cradling you tight to his chest. hand on his neck, you trace it up to his cheek and guide his head down to face yours. jaemin leans in for a soft kiss, lips suckling at your bottom as your teeth tug on his top, slow but sensual, tired but sweet. you pull away for a breath but it's as if he doesn't need to breathe anymore because he chases after your lips almost instinctively. soft kiss after soft kiss is all that's needed for you to pluck up your courage and look him in the eyes, lips detached, and speak the truth your heart has been singing in your ears all along. "jaem," his eyes are hazy as they find yours in the dim light. somewhere in the back, the sun is peeking over the horizon in all its glory but neither of you pay it any mind. "yes, love?" he brushes the hairs from your face, fingers gliding across your cheeks and then fumbling with your bottom lip with his thumb. you blink and you speak.
"i've been waiting for you all my life."
you think back over the past seven months, a little over half a year, that you've had this man in your life, five months of which he was your boyfriend. you wonder how you could've fallen so fast in such a short amount of time. then again, love is rarely ever about how short or how long. it's more about the timing in which everything falls into place, the intensity by which each person loves, their pasts and how willing they are to erase it. falling in love is not about getting it right the first time, to find someone to be your first and last. for you particularly, jaemin is your ninth, and though the prospects of him being your last are still far from true, you know in your heart and in your mind and in every part of your living being that with each coming second, he's a second closer to becoming your last.
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copyright © 2020 rouiyan all rights reserved.
✧ end note — if my ex ever sees this, though i truly doubt he will, he gon know i stole one of his lines for jaemin. the wish one. yeah...he always had his way with words, that's about all he had though. but hey, it makes a hell of a good line in this story. i hope you had a good time reading this piece, it was such a pleasure to write. i will see you guys when i wake up for class in three hours hehe. with all the love in the world, rouiyan
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Take your time then.
Aizawa x gender neutral reader
Story under the cut :)
Unedited but like edited but still not properly edited :)
Hope you enjoy!!!
a/n: it’s been a hot min since I’ve written a fic. I think the last time i was 14 and it was shit and on wattpad. Ha. I hate myself. N e way, I was recently writing some shit for an au me and my friend thought up and in the back of my mind I was like, “you should start writing fics again bc this is kinda fun”, soo lo and behold I made a post asking if anyone would be interested, shared a little too much personal shit in it but whatever, and have now decided to write this mother fucker. (3/25/21)
a/n: not sure if anyone will care about this series of a/n’s but I’m just chronicling thoughts ig. rewriting rn bc my first draft was short and ass. Also I’m thinking about opening requests after this is posted, will go into detail in a diff post maybe. (3/28/21)
a/n: deleted everything, rewriting. I just want to make something that might be decent and if I can give that feeling, y’know those chills you get when you read something utterly gorgeous, but I’m bad at writing. sadge (3/28/21, like several hours later)
a/n: ugh (4/1/21)
a/n: ugh pt 2 electric boogaloo. I can’t seem to move forward with the writing. I realized something like this might happen bc to solve a problem feelings need to be discussed and I fucking hate doing that so you can see where I’m fucking up lmaooooo (4/2/21)
a/n: I read angst to fuel my writing brain. So, read some angst, finally writing agian. This first section is probs as long as the story itself LMFAO(4/5/21)
Started: (3/25/21) Finished: (4/5/21)
Warnings: uh angst, curse words, like a lot, (i saw someone else put this as a warning, do I actually need it?), avoiding problems instead of actually facing them, mentions of shit so-so parenting, mentions of not being able to live up to high expectations, y’know, the works
Synopsis: Aizawa takes in Eri without running it by you first and expects you to be okay with it. That’s funny. He was wrong.
Can I preface this with a thought? I’m going to anyway,
all the fics I read paint him as the sweetest partner and I’m sure he is but I think they miss out on how blunt he is and his whole “Mr. Rationality” thing. So as much as I adore him I think there are situations that he’d be a bit more colder towards, a bit more straightforward about. Maybe even like a bit insensitive about but maybe bc he doesn’t have the full picture or something. so I guess this is another warning but aizawa is a little insensitive in the beginning (but like not really but kinda. it’s complicated)
~
Rain pattered softly against the window. The smell of some old random Bath and Bodyworks candle you’d dug out from a box you’d never bothered to unpack smothered the room. Some Netflix show idly played on a low volume on your computer, you’d lost interest in watching tv awhile ago. You needed a break. After the eventful month you’d been having you really needed this. 
Now of course your whole year so far had been eventful. What with all the villain attacks on you and Shouta’s class and the kidnapping of one of your students, to just dealing with the more mundane problems with your students. No. You had no problem with that. The villains, although not easy, were something you were trained to handle. The smaller problems with your students weren’t arduous either, after all you weren’t too much older than them. 
When reflecting on your situation, from and outside perspective it could be seen as the straw the broke the camels back, which sure, makes sense. After all, you’re bound to be stressed out by everything else, so why would this seemingly insignificant thing weigh heavier than a villain attack? Well if that is the situation why does this single straw feel like it weighs a ton? This is not that. This is not culmination of the events of this year draining the life from you. This is something entirely different. A panic inducing life change that completely took you by surprise mixed with your inability to actually face your problems. 
You don’t blame them. You can’t. They’ve done nothing wrong. A child. A small, probably mentally scarred child is your problem. Well not her personally but the fear taking care of her instills in you. Despite working in the field that you do, you cannot for the life of you handle actual children. Sure you’re a little awkward with your class but at least they’re young adults and (vaguely) mature and independent to a certain extent. The fact that your long term boyfriend just came back one day, small child in tow and said “Hey I’ve gotta look after this one now” not verbatim obviously, for a lack of better words, fucked you up. He basically solo adopted a kid and, let’s be honest, he probably expected you to help out. But how could you? How could this man look at you and think “I want this person to help me raise an already fucked up child?” Ok sure, he doesn’t at first give off the “I’m totally father figure material” vibe but in the end he is extremely competent. You on the other hand, not so much.
You’d never been good with children. Tried your best to steer clear of them. Didn’t matter the place, didn’t matter who’s kid, you couldn’t handle them. You would just stand there, awkwardly, not entirely sure of what to do and petrified that there was the possibility of making some mistake which would upset the child and then oh wow look, your head got chopped right of your shoulders. That’s hyperbole of course but it does sum up the insurmountable fear that overcomes you whenever you have to deal with a child. So considering the fact that your long term boyfriend had suddenly decided to adopt and not at least warn you, didn’t sit right with you.
So, the best and most obvious choice, was to avoid your problem. Avoid Shouta, avoid Eri. Avoid the mention of them and you, avoid it all. And honestly you’d done pretty well so far. You were able to have as little contact with them as possible considering the close proximity of your living quarters in the teacher’s dorms. After all they were legally supposed to give you two separate rooms but you never actually used yours, well until now. You were living it up honestly. Did you feel awful? Of course. He is your boyfriend after all and you were sure Eri doesn’t deserve your cold shoulder but this is probably for the best. What could you offer her? You weren’t sure that you were a good role model for her or anyone for that matter. What did you know about raising kids? it’s not like you had parents to set a proper example for you. Of course they might have shown you what not to do but where do you go from there? Is shit like that really avoidable? You don’t want to be like them. You strive to be better but what if you can’t be. There’s also the added bonus of the fact that raising a kid seems taxing on a relationship. Now matter how strong you were sure that the stress of a kid could break a relationship down that then festers into something toxic and unrecognizable. You didn’t want that. God you couldn’t let that happen. No. This was definitely for the better.
Of course Aizawa didn’t feel the same. He was confused on why his partner had been so blatantly avoiding him. Did he do something wrong? He doesn’t remember doing anything that might’ve upset you. So why now? Why pull away now? He had to get down to the bottom of this but catching you was the hard part. You had been taking on more work, offering more assistance to the other teachers, picking up extra patrols, doing everything and anything to stay away from Shouta. It took him a month but he finally caught up to you. You were tired, worn out he knew that. Instead of loading yourself with work you’d decided to hole yourself up in your room. It was now or never.
You were pulled out of your peace at the sound of a few gentle knocks to your door. You really didn’t want to get it. You honestly couldn’t be bothered. 
“(N/n)? Are you in there?” He hadn’t gotten it wrong right? He hadn’t been too distracted earlier and missed you leaving right?
“What’s up?” You hummed from your place by the window, not bothering to actually open the door.
“Can I come in?” Shouta asked, voice soft. You could barely hear him above the patter of the rain and the low humming of your laptop.
“Uh, no, kinda busy. Got loads of work to do. Need to focus, sorry. Maybe later?” You hesitantly spoke. Not sure if you were convincing enough. 
Apparently you weren’t.
He sighed. “It’s been “later” for an entire month. Please (Y/n) just let me in. Whatever this is we can talk it out.” You had predicted that eventually Shouta would start to try to crack down on whatever the issue was but you didn’t expect it so soon. 
“Uh...no?” You tried, hoping that maybe he’d just give up but that wasn’t Shouta.
“No, you don’t get that option, now please, open the door.” Although it was still soft his voice had taken a more stern tone.
“Oh no I’m dead. I guess I can’t open the door. What a shame. I guess the only way to talk with me now is in the pits of hell.” You quipped, trying to lessen the tension that already ran thick.
“(Y/n).” Aizawa sighed.
“Jeez fine. Talk about pushy.” You quipped once more to no avail.
Opening the door you were met with, well exactly what you expected. He stood there, arms crossed, a stern yet gentle look in his eyes, his lips pulled into a slight frown. 
“Come in.” You mumbled as you stepped further into your room.
“So tell me. What’s wrong?” The sentence stirred so much. Of course you wanted to tell him. You wanted to spill your guts to the man you loved in hopes of comfort but you just can’t. You know you’ll just scare him off. You know you’ll make things worse.
So you stay silent.
He says nothing as he grabs your hands gently and leads you over to your bed. He sits the two of you down on the edge, muting the movie on the laptop sitting behind him.
“You know you can tell me if something’s bothering you right?” Shouta sent you a warm smile. 
You weren’t very comfortable with discussing your feelings sometimes, it mostly stemmed from the fact that you never really could discuss them with anyone growing up which made it harder to confide in anyone now, as at this point bottling things up was a habit. But this was also just something that you were sure that you couldn’t talk about.
Silence answered him once again.
Now he took sometime to think about his approach, think about what could’ve happened that made you pull away. What did he do that was different from his norm? He was genuinely stumped and the fact that you weren’t helping him confused him even more.
You decided to take this time to lament the situation too. What was he going to do? Should you actually tell him or play it off? If you play it off will he still insist that something is wrong? If you tell him will he leave you? If you don’t tell him will he leave you? You risked a glance at him, he was still deep in thought.
Why did you have to adopt this fucking kid without at least warning me?
“What?” Your head shot up at the sound of his shocked voice.
“What?” You asked, genuinely confused.
“Eri’s the problem...?” He spoke slowly, not entirely sure if he’d heard you right.
“Did I say that out loud?” You squeaked.
“I’m pretty sure you mumbled something along the lines of “why’d you have to adopt that fucking kid”.” Shouta said, unsure if he’d heard wrong. Wanting to have heard wrong.
“No no no no no no! It’s not like that! I mean it is like that but not like that!” You frantically waved your hands in hopes of defusing the situation.
The way he looked at you made you want to cry. You felt horrible. You felt like the biggest asshole in the world and, at this point you probably were. He looked at you with such a look of heartbreak and disappointment and confusion it made you sick to your stomach. You felt light-headed and started shaking. You were right. You were right. You were always right. God why did you have to be right! Why did you have to be like this? Scared of raising a fucking child! It was asinine and irrational and you could probably move past it  but thanks to your stupid fucking brain you just sealed your fate.
You scooted away from him still waving your hands frantically as no’s tumbled endlessly from your lips. You tried sputtering an apology, anything so that he wouldn’t look at you like that but nothing stuck. Nothing was comprehensible. Nothing worked. Nothing would work. Nothing will work. You were hopeless. It was hopeless. 
“If it isn’t like how it seems then tell it to me straight.” Shouta finally spoke up.
You took a second to come down from your panic. You steeled your nerves as much as possible before you spoke. 
“Um well, I have nothing against her it’s just that a little heads up would’ve been nice? I’m not all that great with kids so this is just kind of weird is all.” You were purposefully being vague in hopes that he’d understand what you meant and also maybe drop it.
“Not great with kids? You’re literally a teacher.” He pointed out.
“Yeah you know but she’s like a kid kid and let’s be honest I’m not too great with the students either.” You awkward laughed. So he wasn’t getting it.
“Wha-you’re fine with the students and I’m sure you’ll be fine with Eri, there was no reason to avoid me over this.” Shouta sighed. As good as he was with dealing with people, he was equally as shit. Or maybe it was just the fact that you gave him very little to work with. It was probably a bit of both. Still his dismissiveness was not helping you right now.
“No, no, no, no. I think I’ll stay here. Uh, good luck with your parenthood escapades and sorry to leave you high and dry like this but that’s going to have to be a no from me.” You rambled. He seemed to be getting a little tired of this.
“(Y/n) stop being irrational. She’s not even our kid I’m just looking after her for now. Why are you being difficult? I told you you were fine with the students and you’ll be fine with Eri, what else do you want to hear?” Shouta grumbled.
“Well uh I don’t know, uh...” You trailed off, this seemed to be going in a direction you really didn’t want it to go. A slight hostility settling in the air.
At your lack of a proper answer he clicked his tongue. He took a moment to reassess the situation. There had to be something he was missing. After all you were getting really worked up but if you weren’t going to talk to him there was nothing he could do. He shook his head before running a frustrated hand through his hair.
“(Y/n), please, please, just be honest with me. Whatever it is that’s bothering you, you can tell me. But I won’t be able to understand if you don’t.” Aizawa sighed, deciding that getting worked up about this was not the way to go, especially when you seemed to be especially distraught.
“Uh, god the thing is I don’t know entirely what to say to put the shitshow in my head into perspective.” You mumbled, trying desperately to figure out what to say that could clear the air but nothing seemed to be coherent enough.
“Take your time.” He decided that this was the best approach to things, making sure neither party got too worked up lest this turn into a fight.
The rain continued to patter softly against the window and your candle continued to burn an slightly off floral-ish scent.  A deafening silence hung in the air because even though he was being as patient as possible some of his frustration leaked through, it was bound to though so you couldn’t exactly blame him. After all, you were probably equally as frustrated with yourself too. 
“I’m just not good in a position like this. I’m not good with kids, especially someone like Eri who’s already so broken. You have that nurturing nature, it comes natural to you but I’m not on that level. I  don’t know the first thing about caring for a child let alone one as already traumatized as her. I’d fuck it up and only make things worse. I don’t want you to reassure me that I’ll be okay with her, I want you to understand that I’m not comfortable with this and that it might take me awhile to come around. I’m sure I sound like the biggest asshole ever but please understand that this just isn’t something I’m ready for.” You had rambled a bit, you were aware of that, but it was the only way that you could properly express your feelings without making things too complicated.
Aizawa said nothing. Trying to figure out how to go about things.
Was he upset? Yeah, you two, even after several long years of being together, hadn’t discussed moving forward in your relationship in depth. And if he’d tried you seemed content with the point you two were at so he left it be, no reason to try and move forward when what you had was already fine the way it was. But recently he’d been craving more. Some mornings, when he’d be the first to wake, he’d study your features in the soft light of the sunrise and wonder what it’d be like to properly settle down with you. Get married, start a family, all that jazz. He’d taken in Eri only because it was the most rational decision. His quirk would be good for quelling hers had it ever gotten out of hand. But it also seemed to quell his musings of something more with you. He had imagined you being a good parental figure for the little girl and it made his heart flutter and his stomach explode with butterflies. But now seeing that that wasn’t what you wanted and how you weren’t ready for it, it stung. But in the end, he loved you. He’d easily give his life for you. So, if that meant waiting he’d wait. He’d wait a million years if he had to. He could do it.
Once again he spoke,
“Take your time then. I can wait.”
Tagslist?: @captainchrisstan (I think you said you wanted to be tagged but I’m also just small brained lol If u didn’t want to and I misinterpreted things just let me know :) )
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plant-flwrs · 4 years
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three’s a crowd // draco malfoy (cologne pt 2)
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request from @jadam268​​ :  after y/n and draco had kissed that day and confessed they had smelled each other in their amortentia, draco and y/n had a known relationship. however the yule ball was coming up and draco still hadn’t mentioned it to y/n. you tried to hint it at draco but he never took it. cedric and y/n were in the same charms class. he was always interested in her/you. after awhile cedric noticed u hadnt been asked for the yule ball. this caused a small love triangle to build up. (you can choose the rest haha its all up to you but if you want please let y/n and draco end up together still🥺)
a/n: my first request!! this is a sequel to cologne, and i hope it lives up to the first one. i really loved the idea for this so thank you again @jadam268​ <333 (i looked for that gif of draco shoving people out of the way during that scene of hagrid’s first class, but i couldn’t find it. here is an equally attractive gif of draco) [the gif is not mine] 
summary: Cedric Diggory takes notice when Draco hasn’t officially asked you to the Yule Ball. Cedric only wants to make sure you don’t go alone ;)
(4.6k)
part 1 here: https://plant-flwrs.tumblr.com/post/628194591952257024/cologne-draco-malfoy-3k-an-another-tik-tok
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Through tall, ancient windows, soft sunshine flooded the castle halls.
You and Pansy walked through the crowded hallway with your arms linked, talking about the upcoming Yule Ball.
"Oh of course he will, don't be daft," Pansy said, rolling her eyes.
"I don't know, Pansy," you bit the inside of your cheek, a nervous habit, "he hasn't even mentioned it!"
You and Draco had been nearly inseparable since you had both confessed your feelings for each other. The day the ball was announced, you excitedly looked to your boyfriend, only to find him casting a charm to make Goyle's frog have hair. Every day since you hinted at it. You had even asked him what color your dress should be but he still hadn't properly asked you. It was weighing on you, the uncertainty of not knowing what Draco was thinking. It made you question his feelings for you. Had he not liked you enough to have you on his arm, to parade you in front of the school?
"He's just a boy, y/n, they're stupid creatures," Pansy said matter-of-factly, pushing her short hair behind her shoulder, "I expect you've got to bring it up."
"I have!" you unlinked your arms, throwing your hands into the air in exasperation.
Pansy looked at you sympathetically, which really only made you feel worse, "I'm just trying to help."
"I know," you hadn't meant to make Pansy feel bad, but it was just so frustrating, "I just don't know what else to do."
Pansy rubbed your arm kindly, and you gave her a weak smile.
"What else to do about what?" Draco's voice purred in your ear as he eased up next to you.
"She's got a big Charm's project coming up, doesn't like her partner very much," Pansy said quickly, giving your arm one final soothing rub before she walked ahead of you and up the stairs to the Astronomy Tower.
"Who's your partner?" Draco said worriedly.
"Diggory," you said, sighing as the lie left your mouth. You were actually quite pleased to have Cedric as your partner, he was smart and kind. The Hufflepuff attitude was a nice contrast to the brooding Slytherins you loved so much.
"Diggory?" Draco repeated, crossing his arms like a pouting child, "he's an oaf."
You didn't agree, but you didn't defend Cedric. You had to seem cross about him being your partner, and it was better to have Draco think that's why you were upset. A small part of you wanted to ask Draco then, why he hadn't asked you. You felt ashamed to even bring it up, afraid he would just look at you like the answer was obvious: you aren't good enough.
Draco pulled your robes close to him and ducked into an enclave in the hallway. You glanced at your watch while he moved the two of you with ease; you still had enough time before Charms.
Draco pushed you against the cold, stone wall and brought his hand to your face. His thumb grazed your cheekbone, and he stared into your eyes for a moment.
"You're beautiful," he whispered, before his lips connected to yours.
He was gentle and slow, but his body pressed against yours feverishly. Your hands fell to the back of his neck. You felt his tie had slipped from under the collar of his shirt, so you fixed it quickly. He smiled at the gesture and you could feel the upturn of his lips. Your fingers twirled in the hair on the back of his head, and your fingernails lightly grazed his scalp. Draco made a heavenly moaning sound into your mouth. His hands slid from your face to your waist, pushing past your robes. His nimble fingers eventually nudged your shirt untucked on each side of your waist, and he slipped his hands to rest on the bare skin of your hips.
You felt your mind going foggy but still had enough sense to open your eyes and look at your watch while Draco's head ducked to suck on your neck.
"Dray," your voice was weak and barely audible, "Dray, I've got to get to class."
Draco pulled away from you slowly, upset to have to do so. He had a proud smile on, and his eyebrows tugged upwards smugly. His eyes fell to your neck, where his lips had previously been attached.
"No you didn't," you knew the look on his face and brought your fingers up to feel the pain of a small bruise forming.
"I did," he replied, moving his fingers to graze over the love bite he had given you.
You sighed, pretending to be annoyed with him.
He laughed, his hand going to move some hair behind your ear. He pulled up the collar of your shirt, pushing it to hide the mark.
"There, all better," he said proudly, not trying to hide his ridiculous smile.
You moved your collar back down, your face becoming flushed. You swatted Draco's hand away and adjusted your hair to fall over the mark.
"Walk me to class," you said, clutching his hand and dragging him away before he could accept the offer.
Sitting in Charms class, Cedric Diggory stood leaning over your shoulder to look at your work. You could feel his toned chest pressed against your back, and his breath was hot on your cheek as he read the paragraph you had written for your project.
"I like it," he muttered, moving to stand straight and offering you a crooked smile.
You smiled back as thanks for his compliment.
"You're a really good writer, y/n," he continued, going to continue the wand movements required for the charm.
"Thank you, Cedric," he only smiled at you, now returning his focus to his wand.
You wrote down what he was doing, the project requiring an essay about the technicalities of the Confundus Charm. You felt tempted to write about how his brown hair fell wonderfully over his forehead, or how his shoulders looked strong and handsome as he stood tall, but figured it was unnecessary to the assignment.
He looked onto his Hufflepuff housemate, his brow furrowed, and with unwavering confidence, he cast the spell.
"Confundo!"
His housemate shuddered, the Confundus charm obviously working. She looked dazed at Cedric, waiting for him to tell her something, give her something to do. You wrote quickly, watching the way her eyes looked a little glassy, and the way her hands fell limply by her sides.
"Uh," Cedric started, looking back at you with a giddy grin on his face, "go get my books."
You watched her, your quill moving as fast as you could manage. She walked to Cedric's desk, across the room, and picked up his books. She walked back and placed them delicately on the table next to you.
Professor Flitwick must have noticed the charm take effect, and he walked over to the three of you.
"Very well done, Mister Diggory," he praised Cedric, moving his wand to cast the charm that would release the girl from the effects of Cedric's Confundus charm.
The girl looked at Cedric, seeming confused. He nodded and smiled at her, and she walked off, her hand nursing the side of her head as if she had a headache. You wrote that down.
Cedric fell into the seat next to you, his arm falling to the back of your chair.
"Did you get all of it?" he questioned, leaning in close once again, "Especially how handsome I looked?"
You laughed weakly at his joke, mainly because you had thought about how handsome he looked while casting the charm. You felt a wave of guilt rush over you, thinking about Draco. You shouldn't be ogling over Cedric, but then again, shouldn't Draco have asked you to the ball by now?
Charms class had been fun for the next few days. You had finished the final draft of your essay earlier in the week, leaving you and Cedric with plenty of time to talk.
"You and Malfoy still going at it?" Cedric questioned, his tone changing when he said Draco's name.
You flashed a confused looked at Cedric, hoping he continued his thought.
"You're neck, it seems to have healed," he continued, his hand moving to brush your hair back to expose your neck.
"He's my boyfriend, Cedric," you said, confused as to where this topic of conversation came from.
Pansy had teased you in the past, insisting that Cedric had some sort of crush on you.
"He's staring at you right now, y/n," she'd say loudly at the great hall, "big puppy dog eyes!" She would laugh, and you would lock eyes with Cedric, sending him a polite smile while his face would blush red.
"He's not much of a boyfriend," Cedric mumbled, ducking his head into his Muggle Studies homework.
"What's that supposed to mean?" you said, becoming slightly annoyed by his comments about Draco.
"He hasn't even asked you to the ball," he said, raising his head to look at your shocked and slightly hurt expression.
"How do you-" Cedric interrupted you, seeming pleased with how the conversation was going
"How do I know he hasn't asked you? Y/n, everyone knows when one of the prettiest girls in their year has been asked to the ball, and everyone knows when they haven't," he looked at you with a kind and sympathetic look.
Cedric Diggory had just called you one of the prettiest girls in your year, and yet your face blushed red from embarrassment over the fact that people knew Draco hadn't asked you to the ball.
"Cedric, I appreciate your concern for Malfoy and I," you only used Draco's last name when you were cross with him, "but if he doesn't ask me, I'll be going alone."
Cedric furrowed his brows and a slight scowl came over his face. He looked at you for a while before something in his face changed. He didn't look angry, but determined. He was determined to make sure you didn't go to the Yule Ball alone.
The Slytherin table erupted with conversation. Next to you, Pansy was chatting away with Daphne Greengrass about the dress her mother had sent her for the ball. On your other side, Draco angled his body away from you, talking to Blaise about his newest plan to get Harry Potter expelled.
You stared into your plate of roast chicken with mashed potatoes, pushing it all around on your plate. You had already run Pansy's ear off about what had happened in Charms earlier that day, but you still felt fixated on it. Cedric's words ran through your head, especially his comment about your status of appearance. The longer you thought about it, the angrier you got with Draco. Your built-up resentment and inward worries about him had gotten the best of you. Instead of being direct and asking him, you sulked cowardly and gave him the silent treatment.
Draco had been fine to let you sulk in peace, reasons unbeknownst to him, until a delicate, but rather large, paper airplane landed in front of you on the table. The piece of paper had been enchanted to fly its way across the hall, and when it landed, it unfolded itself rather impressively.
Draco had seen it in the air, and by the time it landed he had turned towards you, abandoning his discussion with Blaise.
It sat in front of you, and once it lay flat, you gathered it in your hands.
Y/n, You looked quite miserable over there with Malfoy, why not come sit with me? I have enough sense to ask you to the ball, if you let me. -Cedric
You read over the note quickly, and before you could turn to show Pansy, Draco had snatched it from your hands.
He read over it a few times, and each time, his eyes became wilder and wilder with furry. He began holding the paper so tightly that it threatened to rip under his grip.
"Diggory? Who does that git think he is?" Draco snarled, crumpling up the paper and tossing it into the table.
At the same time he stood from the table, dinner was incidentally dismissed. Everyone began to leave the hall, except for Draco, who seemed to be rushing towards the Hufflepuff table, towards Cedric.
You gathered the paper from the table before rushing after Draco. He moved through the crowd with ease. Anyone who hadn't cowered out of his way, he simply shoved out of the way. You were being knocked back and elbowed as you followed him, unable to muster the rage Draco seemed to walk with.
It must have been intimidating for Cedric, seeing Draco storming at him the way he did. His fists were clenched by his sides and his robes flew behind him as his legs moved quickly towards the taller boy.
When Draco finally reached Cedric, the way Cedric towered over Draco by a few inches did not matter. Draco held his wand to Cedric's throat, the action hidden by the crowd of students around them.
"Don't you ever even look at her again," you heard Draco say in a hushed, deadly tone.
"Why not?" Cedric asked, puffing his chest out and shoving Draco back. He collided with a few students behind him, but rebounded quickly, regaining his threatening attitude.
"She's with me," Draco snarled.
Cedric laughed and crossed his arms over his chest. All you could do was watch, you had no words as your hands shoved the crumpled paper into your robes. You felt Pansy next to you, wrapping her arm around you in a side hug as you both watched the boys.
"You haven't even asked her to the ball, Malfoy," Cedric spoke.
Before Draco could reply, Professor McGonagall glided between the boys. She held her hands out to both of them, palms out.
"Enough, dinner is over," she looked at everyone who had stopped to watch the interaction, "go to your common rooms," she yelled over the noise.
Cedric moved first, laughing at Draco and walking away with his friends.
Draco stood there for a moment, too angry to move.
You looked at him, wishing you could comfort him, but not finding it in your heart. You were too upset with him, filled with too many questions to worry about Draco. Your hand went to the note in your pocket, and you held it as a reminder.
Draco's eyes found yours, and before he could move towards you, you slipped out of Pansy's grasp and left the hall.
You had left Draco there, nothing to say about his little standoff with Cedric. You thought the whole thing had been ridiculous. You figured, however, that if you hadn't already been cross with Draco, you may have found his words a little romantic. He had, after all, said you were "with him".
You shuddered with nerves as your hand hovered over the doorknob to your Charms class. You didn't want to face Cedric, and you had been successfully avoiding Draco.
Part of you wanted to skip Charms entirely. You had finished your essay, you wouldn't be missing anything, but the idea of detention did not entice you.
You walked to your desk, seeing the back of Cedric's head as he sat in the seat next to yours.
"Hello, princess," he said, not lifting his head from the book he was reading.
He had been leaning back in his chair, the two front legs teetering off the ground. With a harsh kick from you, the chair landed on all fours and Cedric jolted forwards. You had been hoping he would fall backwards, but you can't win them all, you supposed.
"Cross with me?" he teased, bringing his arm to rest on the back of your chair.
You ignored him and pulled out your Potions textbook, opening it to your homework assignment.
"Oh come on," he said, pushing his hair out of his face, "I thought you'd like it."
He was talking about the note, you figured, and suddenly your cheeks felt hot as you remembered it was still in your pocket.
His mouth curled into a smile and he quickly pinched your pink cheek before you could slap his hand away.
"Ooooo," he called, leaning back again in his chair, "you did like it."
You ignored him, willing your cheeks to return to their normal color. You hated to admit it, but you still couldn't deny how attractive Cedric really was. His thin lips curved into an arrogant smirk, revealing his white teeth. His green eyes were alight with mischief and entertainment. His sharp jaw entranced you.
You couldn't even distract yourself with thoughts of Draco. Every time you thought of him, you got angrier with him.
You successfully ignored Cedric for the rest of Charms, and now you were trying to avoid Draco as you walked through the courtyard with Pansy.
"They’re both such idiots," you complained, your books clutched tight to your chest, "Diggory's making a fool of himself and Malfoy is making a fool of me."
Pansy sighed heavily, throwing an arm over your shoulder.
"You're not a fool, no one thinks your a fool," Pansy reassured you, "Draco isn't held of that high of an opinion around here."
Pansy's words had almost soothed you, but once again, you couldn't help but feel a familiar sadness creep over you. Even if other people didn't notice that Draco hadn't asked you, you certainly did. He was making your life much harder than it needed to be.
Cedric saw you from where he sat with his housemates. He leapt from the bench and bounded over to you. He casually shoved off Pansy's arm, before either of you noticed he was there, and replaced it with his arm.
"Hey, princess," he said familiarly.
"Shove off, Cedric," you pushed his arm off your shoulder.
He simply laughed and took a step ahead of you, standing in front of you and Pansy, blocking your path.
"What do you want Diggory?" Pansy asked.
Your hands were wrapped so tightly around your books, your knuckles were turning a starch white.
"Just wanted to let y/n that my offer still stands," he said to Pansy. He turned towards you, "I'd still love to take you to the ball."
You let out an empty laugh, feeling completely exhausted. Pansy rolled her eyes and sighed heavily. She walked away, leaving you with Cedric.
"Haven't you ever heard, Diggory," you heard Draco's voice from behind you, "that three's a crowd?"
When he finally came to your side, he made no move to touch you, and part of you was grateful. You were still so upset with him that you may have just shaken off his touch.
"Oh, Malfoy," Cedric drawled, looking between the two of you, "I'm sure y/n wouldn't mind if you left."
Draco let out a sarcastic laugh that sounded a bit like a growl. You rolled your eyes, bracing yourself for another pitiful interaction like the one at dinner.
"I was simply asking her to the ball, she's been looking quite lonely these days," Cedric said, taking a step closer to you and Draco.
Before Draco could reply, you slammed your books into his chest for him to hold. Stepping up to Cedric, you had to tilt your head upwards to fully look him in the eye.
"You arrogant prick," you started, feeling a wave of anger wash over you, "how dare you talk about me as if I'm some sort of object," you took in a shaky breath, "like a toy for you two to pass back and forth."
You whipped around to scowl at Draco too, and he looked down, ashamed.
You saw the beginnings of a smile of Cedric's face, and your anger bubbled. You winded your hand back to slap him, but Draco's quick grasp stopped you. Cedric had flinched, and you laughed dryly. Nodding to Draco, assuring him you wouldn't slap Cedric, he dropped your hand. You took a step back from Cedric and he still looked smugly at you. You spat on the ground between you two, some landing on his shoe. He stepped back in disgust and looked at you like you were crazy.
"Fuck off," Draco hissed, coming to your side again.
You let him stay there, watching Cedric retreat to his friends.
You began to walk away from Draco as you had done at the great hall, but his hand on your bicep stopped you.
"Y/n," he said sadly, "can we talk?"
You looked into his silver eyes and saw the look of regret on his face. You turned to face him, putting a few feet between you two.
"Are you cross with me?" he asked, stuffing his hands in his pockets.
You scoffed and folded your arms over your chest.
"Why?" he asked softly, taking your reply as a yes, and stepping towards you.
"Are you serious?" you asked, genuinely wondering if he had no idea why you were upset. Was he really as daft as Pansy said?
"Yes, you've been upset all week and I don't know what I've done. Have I done something?" he asked. Hearing the desperation in his voice softened you. You supposed he actually was that daft, and you couldn't blame him for that.
"The ball, Draco," your voice was almost a whisper, afraid tears might spillover, "you never asked me."
Draco took another step forward and pulled his hands from his pockets. He reached for yours, and you let him hold your hands.
"Really? That's why you've been cross with me?" He sounded like he had an epiphany, like he couldn't have possibly imagined that's what was wrong.
"Yes, Draco," you sighed, giving up on your anger and allowing yourself to be vulnerable, "it made me think..." you trailed off, unable to will yourself to say what it made you think of yourself.
"What?" Draco pushed.
"I don't know Dray, it'll sound stupid," you dropped your eyes to the ground, your head tilting downwards.
"Tell me," his hand moved to lift your head, forcing your eyes to his.
"It-" your voice cracked, "It made me think you didn't want me, like you didn't want people to see us like that," you refused to let yourself cry, but the tears could be heard in your voice.
Draco held his mouth open, his brows lifted in shock. He pulled you both over to the base of a tree, out of sight of anyone else in the courtyard. He held you close to him.
"I would never want you to think that, y/n," he rubbed his hand soothingly on your back as he hugged you.
You lifted your head from his chest, looking up at him.
"Then why didn't you ask me?"
"Oh," he started, looking away from you, "well now I feel a bit stupid," he said sheepishly.
You waited for him to answer.
"I had just thought," he pressed his lips into a thin line, thinking of how to word his thoughts, "I had thought, that we were already going together. I think I forgot to ask you."
You recoiled away from him, looking at him with amazement. Here stood the boy with the best marks in your year, impeccable wit, and an unwavering reputation, admitting that he forgot to ask his girlfriend to the Yule Ball.
You let out a high laugh that surprised Draco. He looked at you, waiting for your fit to end, but you had doubled over with laughter. You clutched your stomach and tears brimmed your eyes.
Once you finally recovered, Draco expected the slap you were prepared to give Diggory earlier.
Instead, you launched yourself into his arms, which he hesitantly wrapped around you.
"Oh, Draco," you exclaimed, "you idiot!'
Your smile was bright, which confused Draco the most. He had just seen you at your wit's end, prepared for you to break up with him, and here you were, arms wrapped around his neck and placing little kisses all over his face in delight.
"Does this mean you'll go to the ball with me?" Draco asked nervously.
"Yes," you replied, subdued, "I suppose I could go with you."
Watching you come down the girls' dormitory stairs, Draco's breath caught in his throat. He nervously toyed with the flower he had for you behind his back, his eyes roaming all over you, trying to look at everything at once.
You looked stunning. You had sent an owl to your mother, telling her all about the dress you wanted and a week later, your owl had a large box with him in the owlery.
It was perfect, it fell elegantly in the right places. You felt Draco's eyes on you as you looked down at the steps, careful walking down in heals.
He immediately embraced you, his hands pressing you into him by your lower back.  When he released you, one hand stayed at your hip as he felt the wonderful material of your dress. He pulled the flower up to your face between you, and you leaned in to smell it. Taking it from him, you kissed his cheek.
"Thank you, Dray," you whispered in his ear.
You were glad you hadn't worn lipstick, because with the force Draco kissed you with, you were sure it would have been all over the both of you.
Pulling away feeling dazed, you allowed him to lead you out of the dungeons and to the great hall.
The two of you walked through the tall doors, your arm looped with his. A few people standing by the walls watched as the two of you swept through the crowd.
Draco led you to the dance floor when a slow song came on. His strong hands gripped your waist, your hands rested around his neck, and your cheek was pressed against his chest. The soft, white material of his shirt felt comforting under you.
“Have I made it up to you?” Draco asked, bending to speak into your ear.
You pulled your face back so he could see you pretending to be in deep thought.
“I suppose you have,” you said smoothly, looking up at him.
He looked beautiful. His hair fell over his forehead, parted at the side. His pink lips were twisted into a peaceful smile as he looked at you. He rolled up the sleeves to his dress shirt at some point, exposing his toned forearms.
“I want you to be happy, y/n” he said, pulling you close to him.
“I’m happy with you, Draco,” you replied, your voice muffled from being pressed against his chest again.
“I’m happy with you, too,” he whispered.
That night, after you two had stumbled down the stairs to the dungeons, Draco stood with you in front of your dormitory door. He had a blissful smile on his face, content with staring at you all night.
You pulled him towards you by the collar of his dress shirt, your fists still wrapped around the cloth as he tumbled into you, pressing you against the wall.
You kissed him hard, your tongue grazing his bottom lip. You felt him shudder against you, his hands bunching up the sides of your dress as he gripped onto your waist.
You hands pushed through his hair, and ran your fingernails down his back, making him shudder again. You smirked into the kiss, and he pressed his body against you even harder. He slipped his leg between yours, the dress gathering at his leg. Your chests were pressed against each other and you could feel his fast heartbeat and heavy breathing.
“Y/n,” he moaned, moving his swollen lips to kiss your jaw.
He began chanting little praises as he moved down your neck, calling you beautiful, amazing, wonderful.
Your hands gripped his biceps as he reached the spot just below your ear, making you whimper beneath him. At the sound, he moaned again, panting against your neck.
“Hey guys,” Pansy said casually, “mind if I slip past ya?”
You and Draco pulled apart awkwardly, he turned his back towards Pansy, presumably hiding something in his pants. You wiped your swollen lips and fixed your hair.
You began to giggle wildly, causing Pansy to giggle. Her intoxicated hands couldn’t manage the doorknob to your shared room. You began to heartily laugh as you watched her hand continuously slip off. She slammed her shoulder into the door, and she stumbled back, nearly falling. She must have had a lot of Fred and George’s after-party-punch. 
You held her up, wrapping her arm around your shoulder. Draco moved to open the door for you, and you walked in with Pansy.
She was still giggling as you guided her to her bed. She flung herself onto it, and you moved to take her heals off. You pulled the blanket over your friend and turned to Draco.
“Sorry about tha-” you started.
“Oh no, don’t, it’s fine” Draco interrupted, that enchanted smile back on his face.
You smiled back at him, both of you feeling completely and utterly smitten with the other.
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Moon of my Life, My Sun and Stars
I know this is from Game of Thrones, but it works perfectly for this fic idea. This is my first time writing for King Schultz (even though I have another fic for him in my drafts). Anyway, hope you all enjoy it! As always gif and characters are not mine.
Description: Y/N thought that the person they liked returned their feelings, but they were sadly mistaken. Little did they know that a certain German has loved them all along
Warnings: cursing, mentions of murder/bounty hunting, a little bit of drinking, some insecurities/uncertainties, if I miss something feel free to tell me!
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Y/N walked down the dirt road that cut the town of Daughtry in half. The sun had just started to set, and Y/N was eager to get to the local bar. They planned to meet with someone that they had fancied since they arrived in town a few weeks ago. It seemed obvious to them that this person had the same feelings, especially with the lingering looks and charming smile that they sent towards Y/N.
Y/N made sure to prepare for the occasion of course. They had on the nicest outfit they owned, and it was sure to impress the person they had fallen for. With a pep in their step, Y/N pushed open the swinging doors of the bar and walked inside. The other men and woman in the bar seemed to be enjoying themselves, and Y/N planned to join in on the fun.
Y/N spotted the person they were looking for sitting at the bar. They looked even more attractive than the first time Y/N saw them at a small shop in town. Y/N went to buy guns for Django and King Schultz, two bounty hunters that they started to travel with two years ago. The two men were trying to hide out, for they didn’t want their current bounty to know they were there. Y/N understood, and they were glad they weren’t with them that day. Sure, they were amazing people, but Y/N didn’t want them to interfere with their attempts at flirting.
Y/N’s attempts had worked, and that led to where they were now. However, things took a turn for the worst. A woman walked up to the person Y/N planned to meet, and they placed a rough kiss on their lips, which was gladly returned. Y/N could feel the bile rise in their throat, and they stormed out of the bar without looking back.
Y/N quickly dashed into the inn where they were staying with Django and King. The two were sitting at a table on the far side of the first floor, and they both noticed Y/N’s harsh entrance. The two men shared a look between each other before King stood up from his seat. “Y/N, what’s wrong? Come sit with Django and I, and we can talk about what happened.”
“I don’t need to talk about it! I just want to be alone,” Y/N shouted back as they climbed the stairs of the inn. They whiped at the stream of tears that started to fall from their eyes.
King simply stood in the middle of the inn. He had never seen Y/N so upset, and he never wanted to see it again. Over the two years that Y/N had traveled with him and Django, King had fallen for Y/N. Part of him knew that they deserved better, someone younger than him, and yet he couldn’t ignore his feelings for them. Django moved to stand beside King, and they both looked up the stairway. A loud slam could be heard from the top.
“Y/N seems pretty upset, Doc. I think we should leave them be for awhile,” Django commented.
“I can’t stand to see them like this. Y/N deserves the world, and I’m going to prove it to them,” King replied.
“While you do that, I’m going to take care of the bounty. If things go sideways, we’ll meet outside of town.”
King simply nodded his head, and Django went back to grab his gun that was laying on the table. Django swiftly left the inn while King ascended the stairway. Y/N was staying in the room across from Django and King’s, and on the other side of the thin door, the sounds of Y/N’s sobs reached his ears. He had heard men scream and beg for their lives, and yet this sound was far worse than that. He pushed back the long strands of his hair away from his face and sighed. King gently knocked on the door to Y/N’s room.
“May I come in Y/N? I’m not going to come in unless you want me too, but I want to help you through this, Fräulein,” King said as he waited patiently for Y/N to answer. No reply came, but King could hear movement from inside the room. Y/N appeared as they threw the door open. King’s chest tightened at the sight of them.
Y/N’s eyes were swollen, and tears still cascaded down their cheeks. King wondered how in the world someone could hurt Y/N, one of the sweetest people in the world, so much so that they reduced them to tears.
“There isn’t anything to talk about,” Y/N stated as they removed the tears from their cheeks in order to look somewhat presentable. “Everything is perfectly fine, but I appreciate the concern.” Y/N stumbled over to the vanity that stood beside a wide open window. They pulled a bottle of alcohol from one of the drawers, and took a long swig of the burning liquid.
King crossed the room in just a few steps, and gracefully removed the bottle from Y/N’s hand. “I don’t think you need any more of this, my dear.”
Y/N simply sat in silence. They were to wore out to try and argue, and they knew it would be pointless to argue since King was correct. The silence remained for a moment until King moved to stand next to Y/N. He placed his calloused hands on Y/N’s shoulders. “Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?”
Y/N inhaled a shakey breath. “I went to meet someone this evening. I thought that there could have been something between us, but I was a fool to believe that. I could never mean anything to anyone. I just, it’s hard sometimes.”
Y/N started to tear up again, but King had enough of seeing the one he cared about so dearly be torn apart by these emotions. He turned Y/N around and pulled them to his chest. The dam broke once again, and Y/N grabbed at King’s vest. King in return held them as close as he possible could, and rubbed reassuring circles on Y/N’s lower back.
“Shh, it’s okay, liebling. Everything’s going to be just fine. Come on, I have something I want to show you.”
King escorted Y/N down the stairs, his arm never leaving its position on their waist. They walked outside of the inn, and King gestured up at the sky. “Look around, and tell me what you see.”
Y/N sniffled as they moved their gaze up towards the heavens. “I see the stars and the moon.”
“That’s right, my dear. All across the sky are millions of stars, possibly even billions. Have you ever heard the Hindu myth about Ganesh and Krtikeya? It’s not as good as the German stories, but it’s not half bad.”
Y/N shook their head as they curled their arms around their body for warmth. “No, I don’t think I’ve ever heard that story. Will you tell it to me?”
“Of course. You see, Ganesh and Krtikeya had a competition. Whoever could travel three times around the universe the fastest would be declared the winner. Krtikeya rode his chariot at lightning speed around the Earth, but he was still declared the loser. Do you know why?”
“Why was he the loser?”
“He lost because Ganesh had slowly moved around both of his parents. They were his universe.”
King moved around Y/N in a circle, his eyes never leaving their’s. At first, Y/N had no idea what the bounty hunter was doing, but then it all clicked together. King smiled upon seeing that Y/N had figured out the connection. He stepped towards them and took their hands in his. “Y/N, you are my universe. The moon of my life. My sun and my stars. I know you deserve better than an old man like me, but I can’t deny my feelings for you any longer.”
Y/N for the first time that evening smiled with joy. “Oh please, old man or not you are still the kindest person I have ever met. I’m sorry that I didn’t see it before.”
“What do you say we make up for the lost time then?”
Y/N answered by leaning up to kiss King. The two embraced each other under the moonlight that shone through the breaking grey clouds overhead. King’s beard scratched lightly on Y/N’s cheek, and they giggled at the feeling. However, their kiss was interrupted by the sounds of gunfire. The two turned and ran in the direction of the sound.
The gunfire had come from inside of the bar, the same one Y/N had been in hours before. In the middle stood Django, and at his feet was the person that had caused Y/N so much pain. “It’s alright folks,” Django started, “My friends and I have come to collect the bounty on this man. Here are the papers to prove it.” Django pulled a yellowed sheet from his pocket and slammed it on the mahogany bar.
Y/N still stared in shock at the body. King recognized the look on their face, and he leaned closer towards them. “This is the person that hurt you, no?”
Y/N shook their head. “Yes, and hopefully where they are going they will suffer more pain than I did.”
King laughed at Y/N’s remark. “I think you are right about that, my dear Y/N. Karma works in wonderous ways.”
Y/N grinned at their new lover. “I couldn’t agree more.”
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metanoiamorii · 3 years
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❛Maybe we are not meant to be, not yet. Maybe we’re stars, waiting to collide in another life.❜
♧ Title: Be Still My Foolish Heart [BSMFH]
♧ Status: Brainstorming & Drafting
♧ Point of View: Third
♧ Genre: Fantasy, Action, Drama, Romance
♧ Warnings: Violence, War, Death of major and minor characters, nudity, past abuse, generational trauma, generational healing, racism, transphobia, homophobia, character corruption arcs, ethics vs morals, star crossed lovers, tragic endings, codependent and complicated relationships.
♧ Featuring: Diverse LGBTQ+ characters, enemies to friends to allies to lovers slowburn, complex and complicated characters, fantasy religions, plenty of symbolism, complex world building, ethics vs morals, a whole lot of moral grey can be fit into this bad boy, character redemption and corruption arcs, some found family, learning to separate one from their family's trouble and taking control of their life, soulmate trope, setting the groundwork for future generations.
♧ Setting: An Ancient Chinese inspired, fantasy setting
♧ Synopsis:
In Oidien there has always been a defined split against the Heavens and Ghost City. No one can remember what sparked the feud between them, it's possible after all these years of the fighting and endless war... they don't even remember themselves. They know it's tradition to keep fighting, to ensure the cycle of violence continues. So that is what they do; they keep fighting.
In recent years, the King of Ghost City has drawn back from the fields off battles and distants himself from politics. He leaves the affairs in his eldest children: Lianhauzi holds the crown, Lutaizi knows his way around the court, Suming’qiu is gifted with the army, and Taixuan is there to ensure everyone takes a break, to take care of her family.
A fight against children is how the Heavens view it... To their surprise, these children are more than gifted than their father. This isn't a game to them, it's a livelihood. They know how to secure a victory within minimum casualties, and they know how to balance one another's weakness.
The Heavens cannot take another loss. No matter how many battles they have lost, they have always managed to win this war. Each time. But on this account? They're afraid to admit they've been beat. So they come to a resolution: they have to take out one of the links. Take out one and the rest should crumble.
It's...
Not as easy as one would imagine. Or so their spies in court relay. The four know to keep their distance in public, and if they meet in private no one knows. They handpick their servants carefully, and they ensure each servant knows their tasks and do not overstep. They've taken every precaution necessary.
Even when it works, when one of their spies is welcomed inside that well guarded, hidden court... no one expects the game of cat and mouse to transpire. Their spy is humored until she's willing to change her allegiance and eventually is brought into the family by marriage... In the very least, she offers the weakest link to exploit to destroy the family.
♧ Tease
Of all I have done,
Forgettable they to none;
Has it now begun?
No, not forgiveness.
That I would never ask for, love.
I wish, regret comes.
You know as I do,
Games I once played, have turned you,
A pretty face blue.
I made no mistake,
You know as I do, the stakes
Required; played.
Once, for you, my rule
To survive, I broke, for you;
That forsaken dual.
My conscious it haunts;
My sleep, in dreams it will taunts
And it brings your scorn.
Pour me a wine glass,
For my sanity to last
And my wrath? To trap.
For me, preform; dance
Distract me with your nice laugh
Until I collapse.
And leave, in silence,
See to it, quiet your lips
Of the truth won't slip.
Allow me my sleep,
Don't be cruel, do not slight, cheat
You ugly she-beast.
A single night, peace,
That is all I ask for, please...
Better, just leave.
I have discovered,
Regret? No, I now confessed
Not for you, coward.
♧ Excerpt:
Her booted feet pattered against the puddles of rain droplets as she hugged the umbrella close to her shoulder, protecting herself from the storm. In a hurry she rounded the corner, following after the image of a soaked cat that had caught her attention and ran before she could approach it properly. It had been the first time in awhile since she had taken to sprinting, to follow the cat. Around the corner Xihuli came, brought to an abrupt halt when she turned into another person, as insane as she was to be out in the midst of a storm.
Her umbrella clattered to the floor, dropped as she staggered back a pace. The bright red silk was out of place, spinning upon the rain soaked ground. She gained her footing, no longer staggering to place distance between them. Her head threw back, an angry look quick to find purchase upon her features. Having yet to reach for her umbrella, the rain begun to soak the bright red and white silks she wore, drenched and sticking to her figure. "Watch—"
Her protests are so abruptly cut off. She watches the man tilt back his own umbrella, dark as the stormy sky with red spider lilies imprinted upon the fabric; the hanging tassels brush against his form, parting to expose his face. A youthful face that should have been smiling, with those eyes— so red to match the spider lilies upon his umbrella— staring at her as if she were a lesser being. The umbrella sits back upon his shoulder, head tilted forward with his chin forward, a sign he was in fact superior to her.
"Don't you know better, Zhuque?" The tone he speaks in, it's unlike that rambunctious voice he's known for, full of laughter that becomes too obnoxious for the ears. How serious it is, no jest spoken, no room for his games. He stares her down, staring through the dangling tassels of his umbrella. And how unkind that look is, a look that's no better than a wolf staring at a lamb. "You should never be out so late."
The two men, another prince and his own dog. Wine and lilac gives him away, wearing the golden lotus crown in his hair. Face unfriendly, a natural scowl he had been born with. He stands beneath the umbrella held above his head, keeping him dry from the rain. Held by that fucking bastard, smug and vain, with the bones acting as hair pins. He's uncaring if he gets wet, of course he is. When he controls the ocean why would he care about a little storm?
Lianhauzi pulls back his hood as he now stands blocking the last exit, Lutaizi and An Huli keeping the woman pinned in. He takes a step forward, Xieyuan moves with him, holding the umbrella in place. When he steps forward they all watch Xihuli push herself back, struggling to press her back into the wall, able to stare in each direction where one was coming from. "The fear in your eyes betray you... You know why we are here."
♧ Characters:
Love Interests
Shenguai Suming’qiu; Heizhao-jun
Amab • Agender • He/Him • Asexual • Reciproromantic
The Fourth Master of the Phantom Palace; that has earned the name of Black Sinister Claws. Said to be cursed from birth, as he has come to age and stepped into the politics and warfare, he has come to be their lucky charm. A conniving young man with a sharp intellect, and a shaper wit. For his family, he has taken up the role as master of intelligence and handles all correspondence, planning, and diplomacy. As a front, he appears an apathetic man, detached and void of all emotions, only hellbent on his work; only his siblings and a selected handful are able to see another side of him.
Yi Xianzi; Courtesy Name Ke’ai
Afab • Genderfluid • She/They • Pansexual • Demiromantic
The Young Mistress of the Yi Manor is a woman with high and strong morals, and lives to maintain peace for the Heavens, and secure a future for the younger generations. She bears conflicted emotions of supporting her mistress’ less than moral ambition, but often does not speak of them and turns a blind eye instead; she tries to justify these actions for the greater good, despite knowing better. Often at times, she is torn between her loyalty to her household, and her own sense of justice and morality.
━━━━━━━━━━
Phantom Paradise
Shenguai Bixie’e; Guiwang
Amab • Nonbinary • He/They • Pansexual • Apothiromantic
The King of Ghost City. Despite years and generations of war with the Heavens, he remains undefeated and stays alive. Defying the odds, many believe he is unkillable, and quite well, untouchable. He has retired, for the most part, from the battlefield, and remains within the Phantom Palace, allowing his children to helm the war. He spends his time with his concubines, or with his council. Few see his face, fewer are able to gain an audience with him.
Shenguai Lutaizi; Heige-jun
Transmasc • Genderfluid • He/They • Omnisexual • Demi-Homoromantic
The unorthodox First Master of the Phantom Palace; that has earned the name of the Lord of the Black Song. First in line to the throne, he has conceded his right to it, and would concede his own royalty if not for his siblings. Despite being a Prince of Ghost City, he is nothing like his father. Carefree and reckless, he would prefer to spend his days drinking, goofing off, and living life to the fullest, uncaring of a familia grudge that makes little sense to him.
Shenguai Taixuan; Duandaojian-jun
Transfem • Nonbinary • She/They • Demisexual • Panromantic
The Second Master of the Phantom Palace; that has earned the name of the Princess With A Broken Blade. She takes greatly after her elder brother, and refuses to partake in a war that has not personally done her wrong. Despite her heritage, she is a woman with a strong sense of justice, morals, and honour. She protects her family from harm, and she will not turn away someone in need, no matter their origins. Opposed to being a sister and a daughter in her family, she fills the role of mother and acts as the woman of the household.
Shenguai Lianhauzi; Baoli’jífeng-jun
Amab • Agender • He/They • Asexual • Akioromantic
The Third Master of the Phantom Palace; that has earned the name of the Violent Tempest. Pressed by his elder siblings, he has taken up as their father’s heir to the throne; the Crowned Prince. He is known for his bad temper and strict nature. At heart, he has good intentions, he lacks the best judgement to execute his intentions.
Shenguai Kuangre Ai Du De; Dubo'mogui-jun
Amab • Genderfluid • They/He/She • Pansexual • Cupioromantic
The Sixth Master of the Phantom Palace; that has earned the title of the Gambling Demon. He is a man unaffected by grudges, politics, responsibilities. He prefers to take a page from his brother, Lutaizi’s, book and spend his time enjoying life to its fullest. He is very much a hedonist, and a compulsive gambler. Everyone he meets, he is obligated to gamble with them, at least once. The catch? He’s capricious, he’s erratic, and he will always change the game and stakes with every person.
Shenguai Jiaxiu; Mei-jun
Amab • Genderfluid • He/She/They • Pansexual • Frayromantic
The Seventh Master of the Phantom Palace; that has earned the name of the Beauty Lord. Arrogant and narcissistic, he is a very conceited man. He enjoys simple flattery and having others fawn over him, being the center of attention. Out of admiration he has taken after his brother, Suming’qiu’s, footsteps and assists him with his tasks. Himself, he carries out the more… darker duties called for, and gathering information; assassinations and spying tends to be his expertise.
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The Four Calamities
An Huli; Chui Feihong
Transfem • Agender • She/They • Homosexual • Homoromantic
Little Fox, as she’s called, is the favored of Prince Lutaizi, and the oldest of the Great Calamities. She is a woman who knows what she desires, what she is determined to do, and she refuses to allow anything or anyone to stand in her way. She comes off to be blunt, spiteful, angry; a she-devil, some claim in kinder terms than a bitch. Ahead of her time, she refuses to hide herself behind a mask, to be perceived as a gentle woman when, in truth, she is a walking storm, and for that, many frown upon her.
He Ruxie; Hei Xieyuan
Amab • Agender • He/They • Demisexual • Gyneromantic
Lord Black Water, as he is called, is the favored of Prince Lianhauzi, and the second of the Great Calamities. Formally a scholar in his past life, he experienced a string of bad luck, costing him his family, his wife, his daughter, his livelihood, his freedom, and soon his sanity. When he perished in his mortal life, he returned as a malicious spirit, and soon came into the service of the Shenguai family and serves loyally and viciously
Da Chen; Nitu Guiguai
Transfem • Nonbinary • They/She • Asexual • Demiromantic
The Enlighted One, as they are called, are the favored of Princess Taixuan, and is the third of the Great Calamities. In their previous life, they lived the life of an honest priest, surrounded by corruption and sin. When they met their end, their resentment for their peers remained and thus they rose to power to root out the corruption and seek retribution. Of the four, they are the amicable. They often forgo emotions and act only in rationality. Their mind is never clouded, and each act they make are in good conscious. Good will is shown to those that live an honest life, no matter their origins; ruin is shown to those are decide to live a dishonest life.
Wusi Linghun; Bai Wulian
Closeted Transmasc • Agender • He/They • Akiosexual • Demi-Akioromantic
The White Devil, as he is called, is the favored of Prince Suming’qiu, and the youngest of the Great Calamities. Formally a young lord in the Heavens, he turned his back on a betrothed he held no affection for. Openly, he cast aside his previous life, to serve the Shenguai family, and became a quick aid to the Fourth Prince. He is said to be two-faced, in some encounters being ruthless and apathetic, and other times he is genuine and compassionate; a toss up upon which side someone will see when their paths cross with him.
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The Heavenly Host
Meng Zhang; Courtesy Name Amnizha
Transfem • She/Her • Demisexual • Demiromantic
The First Master of Dongbu, and the acting Qinglong. Kindness is the one rule she lives by: kindness to her family, kindness to her allies, kindness to a stranger, kindness to her foes. She sees no reason to rule with fear and hatred, and actively will not promote negative emotions. She is a stern and serious woman, she takes pride in her knowledge, her power, and securing the truth. Behind closed doors, she opposes Xihuli and the Emperor, knowing both have secrets they would prefer to keep buried, in public she maintains an appearance of being a close ally.
Ling Guang; Courtesy Name Xihuli
Cis-female • She/Her • Demisexual • Apothiromantic
The First Master of Nanfang, and the acting Zhuque. Openly, she is perceived as a compassionate woman, who puts the needs of her people before herself, and acts selfless; in truth, she is surprisingly violent and vulgar. She continues to fuel the war, slandering and starting rumors of false deeds to rile the public, and gain the support of her supposed allies. There is nothing she is not willing to do to gain fame, support, and what she desires.
Jian Bing; Courtesy Name Cixia
Afab • Genderfluid • She/They • Asexual • Demiromantic
The First Master of Xibian, and the acting Baihu. She is known for being a compassionate woman, she wears her heart upon her sleeves, and acts out of the goodness of her heart. She openly encourages peace, to cease endless war and bloodshed; to make amends. For which, she is seen as an enemy to Xihuli, but is a close friend to Amnizha. Her only downfall are her chronic illnesses that have left her sickly since birth.
Zhi Ming; Courtesy Name Lu'yongshi
Amab • Agender • He/They • Closeted Homosexual • Homoromantic
The First Master of Beifang, and the acting Xuanxu. He has a reputation that precedes him as an honorable gentleman. He is a man of his word, he acts in accordance to justice and honor, and rarely strays from it. At heart, he is a warrior, and lacks the delicacies for social greetings; he comes off as blunt, uninterested, distant, and often lacking a heart to care.
Zhi Shi; Courtesy Name Yansbi
Cis-female • She/Her • Asexual • Aromantic
The younger sister of Lu'yongshi, the Second Master of Beifang, and acting Xuanshe. She happens to be her brother’s polar opposite. She is less than honest, she lacks honour, she craves power, she will use blackmail to get what she desires. As, she is not above blackmailing and guilting her own brother to act in accordance to her own agenda. She is also a close associate to Xihuli.
Long Jianhong; Courtesy Name Canren
Cis-male • He/Him • Bisexual • Apothiromantic
The current Emperor of Zhongxin, and the acting Honglong. A prideful man that cares more of his own person than his own people. Often, he turns a blind eye to all suffering, and allows Xihuli to do as she pleases. He is a womanizer, with various concubines’ , and elicit affairs with others. He was loveless to his wife, as there are rumors he was behind her untimely death. Whether these rumors are true or not are unproven, and few challenge them out of fear.
Long Shisan; Courtesy Name Li Busengren
Amab • Genderfluid • He/She • Quoisexual • Quioromantic
The Fourteenth Prince of Zhongxin. With twelve siblings in line of succession to the throne, Li Busengren acknowledges the chances for him to be the heir are little to none; this is added by the factor of being, from birth, his father’s least favorite child. With a will to prove his father wrong, and desperate for his father’s approval, he’s ready to do anything for an ounce of recognition.
Taglist
BSMFH: @writings-of-a-narwhal, @kittensartswriting, @inkflight, @qelizhus,
General: @endlesshourglass, @writerray, @poore-choice-of-words, @alexwritesfiction, @primusesgiantmetalballbearings
Both: @cecilsstorycorner, @little-boats-writes, @hazard-writes, @egg-shark
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taizi · 3 years
Note
Could you write prompt 88 for natsume yuujjncho?
PROMPTS LIST
88. “That’s definitely not true.” “Of course it is. I read it on Wikipedia.”
x
Tooru is being her usual, relentlessly supportive self. Takashi would appreciate it any other time.
“I really don’t want to go on a date with your coworker,” he tells her for the third time. 
“The best way to get over an unrequited love is to date for fun!” Tooru says with unfounded confidence. 
To Takashi’s knowledge, Tooru has been comfortably aromantic for as long as Takashi has known her, so he has no idea where this apparent expertise is coming from and he’s somewhat afraid to find out. 
“That’s definitely not true,” he says, attempting reason. 
“Of course it is! I read it on Wikipedia.”
Behind Tooru, Kaname is giving Takashi a look of deep sympathy. Takashi closes his eyes, fortifying himself, and says, “Tooru-- ”
“Well, okay, it was a WikiHow article. But it was really well-reasoned!” She leans forward on her elbows, looking at him with wide, earnest eyes. “If this person you like won’t give you the time of day, forget about them! Go on a date with Hideki. You’ll have fun.”
“Don’t say it like that,” Takashi says weakly. “It’s not as though I told them I’m in love with them. They didn’t reject me. I’m not… pining.”
If anything, he’s regretting bringing up his hopeless infatuation in the first place. He fully blames Katsumi and one too many drinks over dinner last night. What had been a safe, if uncomfortable, secret for the last four years has somehow become an open discussion between three of his closest friends. 
He’s deeply, exhaustively relieved he didn’t slip up and tell them who. 
Tooru frowns at him. 
“That’s another thing. Why are you so certain you’re not a total catch? I showed Hideki a picture of you and he, like, literally swooned. If you’d just tell this person you’re in love with them, they’d probably be over the moon.”
Takashi feels himself flush. Kaname is smiling at him now, gently but not without humor. He, at least, understands how strange the idea is that someone could look at him and see something worth having. Lucky for Kaname, Katsumi is both more stubborn than a mountain spirit and extremely vocal about the things he wants. 
“I have an idea,” Tooru says brightly. She stands up, rounds the table, and offers Takashi her hand. “Come with me.”
With a deep sense of dread, Takashi takes her hand, and allows himself to be tugged out of the kitchen, past the sitting room where Kaname is half-rising from his chair with the look of someone with no idea how to stop this train wreck from happening but with every intention of giving it his best shot, and up the stairs. 
She taps on the study door and slides it open. Satoru glances up from his laptop, paperwork spread across the desk beside him. He smiles when he sees who it is, shutting his computer halfway and giving them his full attention, the way he’s done since they were kids. 
He always puts his friends first. It’s one of the first things Takashi loved about him. 
“What are you two troublemakers up to?” he asks cheerfully. “Bring a new ghost home or something?”
“No ghosts today,” Tooru says. “We actually have a romance problem to solve.”
Something flickers in Satoru’s expression, but his smile doesn’t give an inch. “Oh? Do tell.”
“Takashi is in love with someone who doesn’t love him back,” she explains, to the very last person in the entire world Takashi would prefer she explained this to. “He doesn’t seem to realize that anybody would be lucky to date him. He won’t listen to me, so I figured he might listen to you.”
Satoru looks like a bird caught in wire, eyes round, body very still. “Um,” he says, aiming for a laugh and falling short, “why would he listen to me?”
“Well, you had a crush on him in high school,” Tooru says reasonably, as if she turns the world upside down on a regular basis, and it really isn’t that exciting. “So you’ll be able to tell him all his good points.”
For a second, everyone sits there and stares at each other. Takashi’s heart is beating so loud he thinks Kaname can probably hear it downstairs. Satoru is the first one to look away, hands doing the nervous fluttering they do when he’s about one minute away from a spiral. 
“Yeah, I could definitely do that,” he says, too fast, a little too quiet, “um, but maybe later? I have to finish this paper, it’s worth half my grade in sociology, and the first draft is due tonight. It’s gonna be a whole thing. Might take awhile.”
Tooru is one of the smartest people Takashi has ever had the privilege of knowing, even if she can be kind of oblivious about some things that other girls are like bloodhounds for, and he sees it when she realizes she made a big mistake. 
Her hands fly to her mouth. She’s apologizing, so fast the words break and stumble over each other, and Takashi gets the sense that this has been something of an open secret for a long time. That Satoru probably talked about it every now and then in a cheerful past-tense. That Tooru probably reasonably assumed that Takashi knew, since everyone else did. 
Satoru seems as though he’s seriously contemplating the window as a means of escape, so Takashi says, “Tooru, can we have a minute?”
She looks ready to cry, so he presses her hand. 
“It’s okay,” he says. “Really. I just need a minute.”
When she’s gone, flying back down the stairs by the sound of things, Takashi looks at Satoru. His best friend. His first friend. The first person who saw a strange transfer student who jumped at shadows and talked in whispers and decided there was something there worth knowing. The first person who took him by the hand and kept finding reasons not to let him go. 
Satoru flinches when Takashi scoots over closer to him. He looks one step shy of humiliated. 
“You had a crush on me back then?” Takashi asks gently. 
“Kind of obvious, Bakashi,” Satoru mutters. “Everybody did. I’m the only one who didn’t know better.”
There’s something unfolding inside him that hurts to be trapped inside him, pressing against the walls and corridors that make up his heart as though searching for a window or a door or a crack to sneak through, too big to be contained. 
Takashi borrows the same bravery that led him up mountains and across rivers and through fires when he was a child, and says, “I had a crush on you, too.”
Satoru’s head snaps up. He’s always been quick to cry, more emotional on a good day than Tooru and Katsumi at their very worst combined, and that hasn’t changed now that they’re in university. His mouth wobbles for a moment. 
“Oh,” he says, with the kind of wonder and defeat better suited someone who just saw a fleeting vision of everything they ever wanted. 
Takashi puts his hand on the desk, palm-up. After a beat, Satoru takes it. He always takes it. 
“I still do,” Takashi admits. 
“Oh,” Satoru says again, but this time he loses the battle not to start bawling over his homework. 
The door rattles open with force, and Kaname is there with Tooru hovering fretfully at his shoulder, and he says, “Satchan, please don’t cry, Atsushi will kill us all. Even if none of us tell him, he’ll just know. It’s okay, we still love you, Takashi still loves you.”
Satoru buries his face in his free hand, shoulders shaking. It’s really not fair for them to have ambushed him like this, and Atsushi really will be angry when he gets home from his lecture and uses his unnerving psychic powers to find out that someone made Satoru cry, but Takashi is grinning so hard it hurts. His hand wrapped tight around Satoru’s feels the same as it always has. 
“Yeah,” Takashi says, more easily than he would have thought possible even an hour ago. “I still do.”
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