#I’m a regular human being. please at least recognize that before anything else

[silverbyeol]

When We Collide - Tom Holland

Summary: A close encounter with death, brings on a new relationship (This summary sucks, but I don’t want to give anything away) 

Author’s Note: Not sure if this classifies as angst, but the ending is kind of sad... but lots of fluff all throughout! 

Word Count: 3.6K

“That’s a wrap for today everyone, have a good day and I’ll see you all on Friday,” the male producer said, there was some light mumbling throughout the cast and everyone disbursed soon after.

“Hey, Tom!” yelled a male voice, stopping the brunette in his tracks, “Would you like to hang out with us? We’re going to grab some drinks at a pub?” Tom looked over at the owner of the voice, one of his co-stars.

“I would, but I already have plans for today. Definitely next time,” the male replied with a smile. Truth be told, Tom didn’t really have any important plans. They were shooting a movie in London and all Tom wanted to do was walk around and enjoy the feeling of being home for a while.

The male walked into his trailer and changed out of the outfit he wore on set and into something more comfortable, jeans and a plain white t-shirt. He checked himself out in the mirror and, before leaving the set, put on a black cap and dark shades, to mask his identity. It was nice to get away from fame and responsibilities for a while and just lead a somewhat normal life.

The streets of London were always busy with people walking about, minding their business, and tourists snapping pictures of every nook and cranny. The weather was gloomy today and there was really no reason to wear shades outside. He probably looked crazy, but Tom went unrecognized as he made his way towards his favourite cafe- ready to enjoy some afternoon tea and maybe even read a book. The cafe was located in a part of London that was rarely crowded. The brunette turned a corner, and there it was; the cafe was standing just across the street. He stopped at the pedestrian crossing, waiting for the signal to turn green.

On the other side of the street stood a young female. She had a pair of over-ear headphones on and wasn’t really paying attention to her surroundings. The male looked her over, admiring how cute she was. She had a black and white striped top on, paired with black cargo jeans, and a black Nike duffle bag across her chest. She looked as if she was coming back from the fitness center. The light turned green for them to cross and the female looked both ways to make sure there were no other cars. She quickly looked back at her phone, missing the vehicle that was speeding down the road.

Everything moved so fast. She was about to get hit and without thinking, the male took off running towards her, ready to push her out of the way. Everything started moving in slow motion and for a split second, he saw her eyes widen with fear as she looked up from her phone and noticed the situation unfolding. Tom quickly grabbed the girl's waist, lunging the two onto the ground, right in front of the coffee shop.

‘This definitely hurts less at the studio…’ he thought and fluttered open his eyes, meeting fearful e/c ones.

“Are you okay?” the female asked as she lay on top of Tom.

“I’m fine. No big deal,” he grunted out. It was actually a big deal… His head and back hurt from the fall and his hands were scraped from sliding on the concrete. “Are you okay?” he in turn asked her as he scanned her face for any injuries.

“I’m fine… I- ermm…” she stuttered and quickly got off the males body, sitting down on the ground next to him, “Thank you- I don’t- Everything just happened so fast…” she said with a shaky voice as if the events finally hit her. The car was long gone and there were no other people walking by as the incident occured.

“What a bloody arsehole, he shouldn’t have been going so fast,” Tom said and frowned. The female's things were all over the ground and right in the middle of them were his sunglasses. His eyes met with the girls, yet she seemed to not recognize that he was famous, “Are you hurt? Should we go to the hospital?” he questioned, concerned about her well-being.

“I’m alright. Thank you… I’m not sure how I could ever repay you for saving my life… you even got hurt,” she said as she studied his scraped hands.

“There’s no need. What’s your name?”

“Y/n.” she answered and the couple stood up from the ground.

“I’m Tom. Pleasure.” he replied, looking into her eyes for any sign of recognition, but nothing.

“Can I at least buy you a cuppa or coffee?” she asked and motioned towards the shop. Tom warmly smiled at her.

“Sure.” The two grabbed their things and collected themselves before going into the shop.

“Welcome! What can I get started for you two?” asked the barista. Tom and the female awkwardly approached the counter.

“I’ll have a flat white, please,” the female by his side said.

“Two of those,” Tom added. Y/n started digging in her bag, most likely looking for her wallet.

“10 pounds.” the barista said and Tom swiftly handed the barista the orange/brown coloured bill.

“Wait… what are you-” Y/n said in confusion.

“Let’s go sit down,” Tom interrupted and led the two towards an empty table.

“You’re way too kind…” Y/n said when the pair sat down. Tom chuckled.

“Making you pay wouldn’t be very gentlemanly of me.” the female smiled at him and the barista came over to the table, setting down two small cups.

“Thank you.” they both said and Y/n picked up the cup and took a small sip, making Tom stare. Being a celebrity, he never had meaningful conversations with strangers. Everyone either wanted a photo or autograph, so it was hard for the male to make connections with regular people.

“What's up with the shades?” she asked, hoping to see more of the strangers' faces.

“Oh....” Tom mumbled and took off his glasses and cap. There was no one in the shop besides the pair, it was fangirl free, “It’s a habit.”

“Makes you look kind of dodgy...”

“Does it…?” he mumbled more to himself than the girl. She looked more calm than before as if the incident was long forgotten. He picked up his mug and took a sip of the hot liquid. Y/n took a second to examine the male. He had brown hair and a pair of matching brown eyes. His baby face made him look like a puppy. He was cute. Her eyes traveled to his arms, they were slightly veiny, he was most likely fit and worked out a lot. Her eyes looked at his hands that were red and had scratches from the fall.

“Tell me about yourself,” Tom said, wanting to keep the mood light.

“Me? I’m honestly not that interesting…” she said and looked down at her lap, “I’m a ballet dancer, I don’t really have time for much else…” she continued, picking up Tom’s interest.

“You dance? I took ballet classes when I was a child. I was even in the Billy Elliot musical-” Tom said and suddenly felt nervous. (Y/n) didn’t seem to know who he was. It was nice to be normal and treated like a regular human, not a famous actor, “when I was in secondary school,” he added.

(Y/n) looked up with interest, “I didn’t realize you were done with school… you look so young,”

“I’m actually 24,” Tom said. The female looked at him with wide eyes.

“You look so young…” she repeated and Tom took another sip of his coffee, “Did the ballet thing work out for you or are you pursuing different things?” This was Tom’s chance to tell the female that he was a famous actor.

“No, I decided to do other things,” he started. He decided that he liked the feeling of being unknown, “I work on movie sets… bunch of random things, honestly.”

“That’s cool. Do you get to meet a lot of celebrities?”

“Yeah… you could say that.”

The two sat in the coffee shop until the sky turned dark, talking about anything and everything. The longer the two talked, the more Tom started to fancy the female. Despite what she thought, she was interesting and very kind. He never met someone like her, and he definitely wanted to keep getting to know her.

“It’s almost 9…” she said with a tired sigh, “I should get going. I have rehearsals in the morning.”

“I should get going too…” Tom said, slightly disappointed…

“Despite the circumstances, it was so nice to meet you, Tom. Thank you for saving me.” she said and started getting up. He didn’t want their conversation to end, if she let him, Tom wanted to keep in touch with the female.

“Wait!” he called out and she looked at him, sitting back down, “Do you mind if I get your number? I would love to take you out on a date, or just hang out,” there was a hopeful gleam in his eyes.

“Ummm… yeah- of course…” (Y/n) felt her cheeks get warm. It’s been a while since someone asked her for her number or even asked her out on a date. Tom gave her his phone and she typed her number in.

“Have a goodnight, (Y/n).”

“Have a goodnight, Tom.”

Tom could not concentrate on set. All he could think about was the girl with the e/c coloured eyes. After the encounter, Tom texted the female that night to make sure she made it home safe. Ever since, they’ve been sending messages back and forth constantly. He wanted to take the girl out on a proper date, but that was slightly difficult. Public spaces meant lots of potential fangirls and the male was not ready to reveal his status yet.

“Holland!” yelled a strict male voice making Tom come out his daydream.

“Sir?”

“What’s the matter with you?” the director asked, annoyed that they had to reshoot the same scene for the fifth time.

“Sorry… I’ve got a lot on my mind.” he replied, making the director sigh in defeat.

“Alright. Why don’t you take the week off, yeah?”

“Oh, okay.” he replied, his thoughts going back to Y/n.

“And make sure you come back to Earth by then!” the male yelled and stormed off, annoyed about having to make a new shooting schedule for the week. Tom reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone:

Tom: Would you like to go on a date with me tomorrow?

Tom: Totally fine if you don’t

Tom: Don’t want to pressure you

To say that the male felt stupid was an understatment. Why was he so nervous? He barely knew this girl for a week and she made him feel like a teenager who was helplessly chasing their crush around. He looked at the screen, three little dots appeared and a message suddenly popped up:

Y/n: I would like that

Tom: Great! I’ll pick you up at 6! Text me your postal address.

Tom sat on the sofa in Y/n’s flat as they watched Citizen Kane on her small telly. The female was laid down, her legs laying on top of his as she balanced a big bowl of popcorn on her belly, occasionally munching on the snack. Tom looked away from the noir film, his attention purely on his girlfriend. The pair have been dating for nearly half a year and Y/n was still unaware that her boyfriend was an A list celebrity. Of course, Tom wanted to tell her, but they’ve already gotten so far into their relationship that he was scared of how she might react to the news.

“You know… I’ve never been to your flat,” the female said and stuffed some popcorn into her mouth, never taking her eyes off the telly.

“Is that something you would like to do?” Tom questioned.

“I mean… We always spend time here. Why haven’t you invited me over? Are you hiding a secret family from me?” her eyes met his and he saw the playful gleam behind her orbs.

“You caught me. My wife and kids wouldn’t be too happy to find out that I enjoy spending my time more with my mistress than them,” Y/n picked up a piece of popcorn and threw it at him, landing it right in the middle of his forehead.

“That’s what you get, Mr. Holland… or is that even your real name?” she said glaring at him, but a smile was plastered on her lips. Tom grabbed the bowl of popcorn from her belly and placed it down on the floor. He quickly got on top of her, using his forearms as support to hover over her.

“Would you like to come over tomorrow then? I could cook us dinner?” he questioned as he looked all over her face, admiring every little detail.

“That sounds lovely. Your wife and kids won’t mind?” she giggled.

“No. I’ll make sure they’re out by the time you get there,” he said and dipped down to capture her lips.

Tom was nervous about his girlfriend coming over, and not because he had a secret family. Tom did not mind that his girlfriend lived in a flat that only had one small bedroom and a common area, nor was he worried about her being materialistic and only keeping him around for the money. She didn’t have much, but she liked to spoil him with small gifts here and there with whatever money she had left from her paycheck. It was bad enough that he drove around in a Porsche, but he lived in a luxurious two story flat on the outskirts of London. If she were to ask questions, how was he supposed to explain where his wealth came from? What if there were paparazzis situated outside his home? He wanted to tell her about being Spider-man on his own time and this could potentially out him.

“I thought you lived closer to the city…” Y/n said looking out the window, watching as they got further from the center of London.

“I prefer staying out of London… It’s always so crowded and the traffic is horrible.” he replied as he pulled into the carpark. Y/n smiled in anticipation. The building of the flats looked really modern, as if they were built recently. She knew that this place must have been expensive to live in. The couple walked inside the building, his hand on the small of her back as he led her towards the lift.

“Mr. Holland.” the doorman greeted, with a kind smile.

“John. Good evening.”

Once inside the lift, Tom swiped his key card and pressed the button for the highest floor. Y/n looked around, slightly feeling out of place. She knew that Tom worked in the film industry, but she didn’t expect him to be loaded. The door to the lift opened and the girl's eyes went wide with shock as she was met with a spacious flat and huge windows that were facing towards the center of London.

“Woah… You said you did what?” the female questioned as she looked out the window.

“I work on movie sets… which reminds me,” he said and came up behind the female, wrapping his arms around her middle, “There is a private screening tonight of the movie I was working on when we first met. It would mean a lot to me, if you came along to watch it.” he said, kissing his girlfriend's cheek.

“Am I allowed to?”

“Of course. You’re my plus one, love…”

The couple finished their dinner before going to see the private screening. Most movies would be shown to the cast and crew before they officially premiered in Hollywood. This showing was meant for the UK team only. This was the moment that Tom would confess who he actually was. His heart was pounding against his chest as he and Y/n sat down in the chairs in the screen room. There were only five others there.

“What’s this movie about?” questioned the female.

“Superheroes.” Tom responded with a bit of a smirk on his face. This was going to be the first time he’s seen the final product, so he wasn’t completely sure when Peter Parker was going to make an appearance. The Marvel logo played and transitioned into a poor quality memorial video of all the Avengers that died during the Thanos battle. The scene continued with two teens as they were giving a morning announcement to their school. Tom looked over at his girlfriend who looked confused, she must not have watched any of the marvel movies. The scene ended and there he was… It was always weird seeing your own face on a big screen.

“I have a plan!” his character started, talking about how he was going to woo MJ in Paris. Tom looked over to his right. Y/n had her mouth wide open as she watched her boyfriend speak in an American accent. She looked at the screen and slowly turned her head to look at her boyfriend as if trying to confirm that it was the same person. Five minutes into the movie and there he was in his Spider-man suit talking at a fundraiser. Y/n grabbed her bag and abruptly stood up, walking out of the screening room, having seen enough.

“Shit…” Tom mumbled and raced after her, “Love, wait!” he yelled, but the female kept walking until she got outside. Not knowing where to go, she stopped in her tracks, “Y/n…”

“You’re Spiderman…” she muttered lowly and Tom almost didn’t catch it.

“I-” he started saying, but she quickly cut him off.

“This is mental. You’re Spiderman and you forgot to mention that your job entails you to actually be the main character in the film?” she said and turned around to look at him. She looked sad, almost disappointed. Tom was at a loss for words.

“You’ve nothing to say?” she tutted and started walking in a random direction, away from the male.

“Babe! Wait!” he yelled and ran up to stand in front of her to block her way, “I was scared okay… Everyone who I ever meet on the street wants a photo or autograph. When I met you, you made me feel normal for once, not like I’m some object that belongs in a museum. I know that keeping this from you was bad and I am truly sorry,” her eyes sparkled in understanding as she listened to the male speak, “I don’t want to lose you.” he ended, his eyes slightly glossy. Y/n sighed and leaned over to give him a kiss. He grabbed her waist and pulled her closer to him, fearing that this would be the last time he would be able to feel her lips.

“I understand if you want to break up-”

“Shut up and kiss me, you bloody git.” the female giggled, making Tom smile and lean in for another kiss.

…

“Don’t lie to me ever again.”

“Never.”

It’s been about five years since the couple started dating. Tom was ready to ask Y/n to marry him. He was going to propose on their anniversary, but he wasn’t sure how or where; all he knew was that he was ready to call her his forever. The male walked into their shared bedroom where the future Mrs. Holland was already in, laying under the covers, dozing off. He slipped in and pulled her close to his chest.

“I love you, Y/n.” he whispered as he kissed her neck, earning a tired reply…

“I love you, too…”

~~~~~

   "He's waking up!"

   "Tom!"

   "Can you hear us?"

   "TOM!" slowly his eyes opened and he met a white ceiling.

   "Where am I?" he groaned and looked over to the side, his mom was there looking at the male in worry.

   "You're in the hospital, Tom. You've been in a coma for six months..." his mother said in a calm voice as tears spilled from her eyes.    

   "Mum? Where's Y/n? I need to see her, is she okay?" Tom questioned as he tried to get out of bed. His head was pounding as he tried to recall the accident.

“Woah… you need to stay in bed, Thomas. Who’s Y/n?” his mother asked, concerned.

“My girlfriend… I was going to propose to her.” Tom let out.

“I’m going to go get a doctor. Please don’t move.” his mother said and left the room.

“What happened?” Tom groaned and he held his head.

“Your director called us after you didn’t show up for the shooting…” spoke up his brother, Harry, who was sitting on a chair, on the opposite side where his mother just stood, “You and some girl got hit by a car just outside a shop in London.”

“Coffee shop?” Tom questioned, his headache starting to ease.

“Yeah…” Harry said.

“Where’s the girl?” Tom questioned, curious what was happening.

“Just in the other room. They haven't been able to identify her.” Harry finished, concerned about his brother.

“Can you take me to her?”

“You just woke up… No way…” Harry said as he frowned at the older male.

“I need to see her…” Tom pleaded, making his brother sigh. Harry got up from the chair and rolled over a wheelchair that was located on the other side of the room. He helped his brother on it and wheeled him towards the room next door. The pair of brothers stopped just outside a window that looked into a patient's room. The shape of her face, the colour of her hair- everything about her was so familiar. She had lost a little colour on her skin, probably due to being in a coma and light bruises littered her body. He couldn’t see the colour of the girl’s eyes, but he was sure that he recognized her.

   She was the same girl who Tom was going to propose to. That girl was Y/n...

Thanks for reading, lovely~ 

#tom holland #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #tom holland angst #tom holland fluff #tom holland oneshot #tom holland fic #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland x reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n

[whump-a-la-mode]

Hexbolt

Inspired by my own prompts? Maybe a little bit.

Summary: The former villain Hex makes a desperate choice to escape captivity-- only to realize just what they have gotten into.

CW//Solitary confinement, extreme isolation, attempted self harm, screaming, sensory deprivation, desperation, captivity, crying, syringes, trackers

The cell had been designed for them.

Hex had realized that the moment they’d been thrown in, though the implications hadn’t struck them all at once. The cage was six foot by six foot-- at least, that was how they’d approximated it, considering that when they stretched out, their head touched one wall and their feet brushed the other. It was the same in the vertical direction, giving them enough room to stand, but nothing else.

They weren’t claustrophobic. At the very least, they had been trying to convince themself that they weren’t for the last...

The last...

How long had they been in here?

There was no indication of night or day-- the walls, floor, and ceiling alike were all coated in a thick black rubber, devoid of windows of any sort. Even the single vent had been covered with a thin layer of black, allowing in only the smallest breaths of stale air. The door was the same. They knew there was a door, but it was only visible when open.

Hex had no idea how long their world had been consumed by black. Long enough that whenever the slot on the cell door was opened, it hurt their eyes, making them flinch back.

There were scared of the light, even as it sounded stupid to think about. Well, they weren’t scared of the light. Not exactly. Moreso, they were frightened by its implication.

Light meant attention. It meant that someone had remembered them, here in this hole.

Usually, it only meant this in a minor way: One of the guards had remembered to bring them food, or water. That might have happened on a regular basis, or it might have not. Without light, without human contact, they had no way of knowing. Sometimes, food came. That was all.

Sometimes they would catch a glimpse of a hand, or, even better, a face. Something, anything, to remind them that other humans existed.

They cried, those days. Even as they tried not to think about life before, about life before this little black box, they could not. They only knew the cage.

In a way, they hated just how simple it had been to contain them. With the ability to take hold of technology, escape should have been simple-- a matter of tripping a fire alarm, or, if their captors had been particularly careless, simply opening their own cell door remotely.

But they could not grasp anything beyond a rubber wall, blocking their signals. Their powers had a range, at the moment, of six feet by six feet. There was not so much as a light they could play with.

Only silence and black.

They screamed sometimes. No one heard. Slamming against the walls of their cell did equally little-- the rubber was too flexible to provide any sort of sound or injury.

A stupid little box. That was all it took to contain Hex. They had always thought the League of Heroes to be far too stupid to come up with something restrictive enough, strong enough to keep them contained. But they had. And it was a box.

Did their former foes even remember them? Timeline? Mantas? The Sentinel? Anyone?

Maybe they were dead. Maybe everyone they had known was, passed of old age while they were in this six by six by six foot cube. Perhaps, something in this cell was simply keeping them alive. Prolonging their loneliness.

And no one would ever remember them, ever again.

Hex shifted to a sitting position, back pressed against one of the rubber walls. Which one was lost to them-- they could not see in the dark, and there was no difference between the walls anyways.

They hugged their legs to their chest. When had they become so... thin? Was that it? Or had they simply forgotten what they used to look like? They knew they were getting lost in their own thoughts again, but they couldn’t help it. There was nothing else in here, nothing else to engage with.

If their foes had forgotten them, had their friends? All the other villains? Had their inside jokes turned into wistful memories? Their face a fixture in the background of ancient photographs?

They were crying. Maybe if they shed enough tears, dehydration would take them.

The very thought of it brought a warmth of hope to their chest. It was for the sake of that warmth that they allowed their tears to consume them, running down their face, their neck, their dusty grey prison uniform, until, at long last, their own sobs lulled them to a deeper, unconscious darkness.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━   

Hex awoke to light. Hex never awoke to light.

So much light, it burned them, even as they scrambled to cover their eyes. They sputtered, trying to speak, but their attempts were of no use. Instead, they could only wait as their eyes adjusted to the new, blazing inferno before them.

It took far too long, but when they could at last see, their field of vision was filled by a figure, taking up the doorway.

“I asked, are you alive in there?” The idea of a human voice was so horribly unfamiliar, it took Hex a moment to remember what exactly speech was.

“I- I” Their throat was so dry, their words came out as a croak. “What’s going on?”

It was the figure’s next words that made Hex recognize them.

“Guess that’s as good of an answer as any. Long time no see, V-23.”

Why was the Chief here? They were always so busy, so secretive, so...

Why would they care about a forgotten, caged animal?

Their next words were stupid, they knew that, but they needed to know.

“A- Are there any others? Is anyone else still around?”

Uproarious laughter.

“You thought that your friends are anywhere near strong enough to take us out?”

No. They thought age would have taken them.

“I don’t know.” Hex whimpered. Even with the insulting, mocking tone with which they were addressed, they could feel tears beading at the corners of their eyes. Tears of joy, accompanied by a blazing warmth in their chest. “I don’t know.”

“Well, 23, have you enjoyed your stay?”

They were still in the box. They were still- and the door was open. The door was open! They could leave, go, and-

Hex could hardly believe that their legs could still carry their weight. They scrambled to their feet, surging forth, only to be struck.

A hand about their neck, a hand large enough to practically wrap all the way around. It pushed them back, making them fall to their back.

“What?” More laughter. “You thought your sentence was over? You thought you were leaving? Give me a break.”

The tears spilling down their face turned cold. Was their any purpose to this visit besides gloating?

“But, I suppose it’s good to see that you can still walk. Now, you know I’m busy, and I know that I couldn’t care less about you. Trust me, I wouldn’t be looking at your face if I had a choice in the matter. You see, I have an offer for you.”

“An offer?”

“Not that I enjoy dealing with villains, but yes. A deal.”

“A deal.” They repeated.

“Great job, you remember English. Crazy how that works.”

“Shut up.” No. Keep talking, please keep talking.

“Well, you do have that option, believe it or not. Let’s make this very, very simple. You have two choices. First option, I leave you alone. I close this door, and you go back to your little dog crate.”

No. Please no.

“Second option.” There was a horrid, wicked grin to the Chief’s face. “Second option, you switch sides. To put it simply for your little brain, we need a spy. A mole. And you’re just harmless enough to fit that role. You will return to your little friends, and report back.”

Hex felt their heart skip a beat, before beginning to race.

Back home. Back to their friends. More importantly, out of this box. Eating food that could be described as edible, instead of moist blocks of something grey. They could go home, again.

But...

It would mean going against everything. Everyone.

But if they were out of this box, they could do anything. They were sure of that. They could fly, breathe fire, pick up a car, anything, just as soon as they were out of this box. They could escape. Then everything could be like it was before!

And they would never again be placed in a box.

“Yes.” They gasped, exasperated.

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

“I’ll work for you.”

“Good.” The Chief smiled. “Come on, then. We will discuss this further somewhere else. But first, doctor?”

The first figure moved aside, making way for a second, less imposing one, draped in a lab coat. Hex skittered backwards, noting the item in the doctor’s hand-- a sort of broad- tipped syringe. They reached the back of the cell far too quickly.

The doctor stepped forth, and Hex felt their heart lurch to their throat. What did they want? In a moment of unprecedented agility, they darted around them, aiming for the door-- only to be caught in a strangling headlock.

Hex struggled, straining against the Chief’s arm with their hands, but their strength was minuscule compared to that of their captor.

“Where does it go?” The Chief asked gruffly.

“In the neck.” The doctor replied.

They nodded, and Hex felt a second arm wrap about their midsection, holding them still. They could not see the needle being inserted, but they could feel its pinch.

When the Chief finally allowed them to move, they skittered backwards, scratching at the skin that had been pierced. The pinch was only evidenced, now, by the tiniest puncture.

“W-What did you-?” Hex stammered, scratching more forcibly, as though it would remove whatever had been forced beneath their skin. “What did you do?”

The Chief smirked, letting loose a small chuckle.

“Well, we wouldn’t want our little doggy running away, would we? It’s only a tracker. Now, come on. We have a lot to discuss.”

#villain whumpee #trackers #whump #whump community #hero villain whump

[schrijverr]

Tender

Trevor has bruised ribs. He doesn’t think it a big deal, but Sypha and Alucard are more concerned about him being injured and show him that he is cared for and that hurting is a big deal.

On AO3.

Ships: none

Warnings: injury, insecurity

~~~~~~~~~~~

It was dark outside and a fire was crackling. They had been on the road for some time now, trying to help where possible with the night hordes, now left wandering with no one to steer them. It was nice and comfortable to be out there for a while even if Trevor was bruised.

“Ugh, I don’t think I’m ever getting up again, my everything is blue,” he groaned as he dropped gently to the ground after returning from gathering some firewood.

“Stop being such a baby, Trevor,” Sypha told him, throwing a log on the fire.

“I can be as much of a baby as I want to with the entire forest ground trying to dig into all these bruises,” he pouted, not really meaning it.

“For a big bad hunter you do whine a lot,” Alucard picked Sypha side, because of course he did. Not that Trevor minded, it was hard to hold a grudge against the dhampir after taking down Dracula together and Trevor had found to his horror that he quite liked Alucard.

That horror had faded quickly and he had rolled his eyes at his ancestors, before happily befriending the other more along with Sypha. So he took their friendly ribbing with grace. Well… his form of grace that was. “You’re all so mean to me, I don’t deserve this.”

“Ahw, did we hurt your wittle feelings,” Sypha exaggerated a pout and put on a mocking baby voice.

“Is your ego now bruised as well?” Alucard added and both laughed as his misery.

It wasn’t that bad, just some bruised ribs, maybe cracked, but nothing more. A common injury on his part that he could function with normally at this point. Still, in the wake of their teasing he played it up, cradling his midriff as he pouted at them, which only made them laugh.

Sypha pushed his side gently with her foot, making him catch his breath slightly as she hit his tender ribs. “We haven’t even traveled that much today.”

He glared at her halfheartedly then snootily sniffed: “You obviously can just shoot beams at monsters instead of getting thrown around all day. That horde was large. And I got thrown into a tree, for your information.”

What he hadn’t expected was for them to look guilty.

“Hey now, what’s wrong?” he asked in confusion when both stayed quiet and the teasing atmosphere that had been there dissipated. “Aren’t you two going to make fun if my brittle little bones or something?”

“You broke something?” Alucard exclaimed wide eyes of horror.

“No, just bruised, maybe cracked them at worst, but I don’t think so,” he shrugged, wincing slightly at the action and completely unsure what to do with the reaction he was getting. “It’s nothing really, happens all the time.”

“Why didn’t you say so?” Sypha practically demanded as she sat up, fingers hovering over his chest as if asking for permission to examine him.

“Guys?” He was now officially confused. “Guys, come on, you’re scaring me here. What happened? There is literally nothing wrong with me, no need to fuss. I’m fine. If it’s about the teasing that was fine too, I swear. I wouldn’t have gone along with it, if I was in any real pain, I promise. Just stop with those faces.”

Both immediately tried to school their concerned faces into something else as if to please him, but it wasn’t working and their concern was still prominent. Sypha broke first, recognizing in his face that he could still see the concern as she pleaded: “Can I at least check your ribs?”

“If that will help relax you again, sure,” he said, struggling into an upright position from where he had been slumped against his pack. In the corner of his eye, he saw them both wince with sympathy and he wondered why they cared now for something relatively routine.

The cross belts, once undone, were easily slipped over his head with minimum arm movement and pain and Trevor was glad his shirt buttoned at the front so that he could just slip it off, baring his chest to them.

When they saw they gasped. He looked down, but saw nothing too bad or out of the ordinary. His chest was obviously bruised, the outline of his ribs clear from where they had pushed against his muscle from the inside when he had hit the tree. It was swollen slightly, but it didn’t look too bad.

“Wow, it’s probably not even cracked. Nice,” he smiled, hoping it would lighten up his companions, but no such luck. They stayed passive, Alucard more so than Sypha, who looked upset. Still, she raised her hand to do what she had asked: examine the injury.

At the first press of her fingers he hissed. He couldn't help it and it was completely involuntarily, but she pulled her hand back as if burned nonetheless. He attempted a smile and said: “You won’t get to feel if it’s broken if you’re scared to touch. I can take it, Sypha, it’s fine. It’s probably not broken anyway, you won’t do more damage, promise.”

“How do you that?” she snapped, clearly upset.

Trevor didn’t know what to do with that. He had never seen her this upset over him and he tried to cheer her up, even if he didn’t know how. “I’ve cracked my ribs enough time to know what that looks and feels like. This is nothing. It just happens, no need to worry.”

“This happens often?” she yelled at him. Okay, so the comfort had not worked and he didn’t know what else could be wrong beside her thinking this was a bad injury instead of a regular one, so he looked helplessly at Alucard, hoping he would step in and save him.

Alucard was no help. “While I wasn’t a doctor, my mother was, and that looks pretty severely bruised. It will take four to six weeks to heal,” he said with a frown. “You said you bruise and crack your ribs regularly? Can you breathe okay?”

“What?” Trevor said, completely baffled. “I can breathe fine. A rasp or a stab here and there, but everyone has their aches and pains.”

“And pneumonia?” Alucard continued his interrogation as he crawled closer, now also examining Trevor’s ribs. “Are you easilysusceptible to pneumonia?”

“I would have died, if I got pneumonia regularly,” Trevor rolled his eyes. The dhampir must know hardly anyone survived that, especially since Dracula’s hordes has swept over the lands. The sigh of relief Alucard gave at his answer confirmed that the other was aware of that fact and had asked it out of fear that he did, which only served to confuse Trevor more.

“Then how have you treated this in the past? When was the last time this happened?” Alucard questioned him, hands ghosting over his ribs as Sypha watched along over his shoulder with great interest.

“I walked and lived on like a normal person,” he said, suddenly feeling very exposed under their heavy gazes and concern. “It’s literally just a bruise, we all have bruises constantly. I don’t- Can you fucking stop that?” he finally snapped.

Both froze with again that guilty, concerned look on their faces that Trevor was beginning to seriously hate.

“How many times do I have to tell you it’s fine? You’re both acting like I’m going to kneel over when it’s literally nothing. I’m injured all the time, this is just a little inconvenience to me and you two didn’t care before, so I don’t understand why you’re suddenly acting like it’s the end of the world that I got a little bruise now,” he ranted.

The gigantic bruise that covered a large chunk of his chest could hardly be called little, but those were not the details the others were concerned with in their reaction.

“You’re injured all the time?” Alucard frowned as Sypha exclaimed: “Of course we care!”

“Uh, yeah, I’m only a measly human, no regeneration for me and I don’t exactly get to stay out of the way of the big hitters. My whip may give me some distance, but it’s not really a shield,” he answered Alucard, because facing Sypha’s comment made him uncomfortable.

“Why didn’t you say so?” Sypha asked, genuinely hurt. “We wouldn’t have teased you, if we had known that you were in pain. And wounds need treatment, what if you got an infection? We could have helped, Trevor.”

“I- I-” What was Trevor supposed to say to that? That he was used to the hurting so much that it hadn’t registered as something notable? That he was used to pushing through alone? That he had thought they’d known, just hadn’t cared enough?

Something must have shown on his face, because Sypha’s fiery look softened as she gently took his hand. “Trevor, we want to know when you’re in pain. You’re our friend, we don’t wish to see you hurt.”

“Oh,” was his only stupid reaction to it.

“Indeed, oh,” Alucard said, before asking, “Can I look over your ribs? I trust you when you say you haven’t broken anything, but just to be sure.”

“Ye- yeah, sure,” he replied, still thrown off slightly.

Alucard pressed where the bruising was worst, making him hiss, but the vampire didn’t stop. He just worked on steadily until he nodded to himself, before leaning down and instructing Trevor to breath deeply, which he did even if it hurt slightly.

When he leaned back, Sypha urged him immediately to give the verdict with a curious and anxious: “And?”

“He is fine,” Alucard told Sypha what Trevor had already deducted, “He should heal perfectly if we keep him still for as much as possible and put ice on his ribs two to three times a day. There is no rattling in his chest and the only out of place rib seems to be old and already healed.”

“I can make ice,” Sypha said happily at the same time Trevor frowned: “Keep still?”

“Yes, Trevor, keep still so that it can heal,” Alucard said. “It’s a miracle your ribs are mostly in the right place still. And we don’t want you to hurt yourself while walking.”

Trevor was quiet for a moment, he really appreciated their concern and the fact that they did care and hadn’t just ignored him being in pain, but he was also a realist and hardened by the road, both with them and all the years by himself. So, he tried to gently break it to them: “Alucard, I appreciate that you care and all that, but we’re in the middle of nowhere and the best we have is a shaking cart while we’re getting attacked regularly. I don’t think resting is really an option.”

“Then we’ll camp here for a few nights,” Sypha demanded sternly. “We can set up here as well as any other place so that you can rest. It might not be the full recovery time, but a bit. Until you feel better. Wallachia can wait until you’re in fighting shape.”

He would deny it to his grave, but he chocked up a bit at that. And while he thought their concern was a bit over the top, it felt nice to be cared for again, that someone was willing to put aside more important things for him.

So, despite his mind telling him it was unnecessary, he gave in: “Sure, yeah, okay.”

The smile he got in return was worth the guilt he would later feel over leaving people to their fate with the night creatures still roaming around and he let them help him back into his shirt as Sypha summoned ice.

The night was still dark and the fire now burning low. The temporary camp would have to wait for the morning and the road for later. It was nice and comfortable anyway, to be out there, even while Trevor was bruised, because he also had Sypha and Alucard and that made it better.

#RR writing #netflix castlevania #castlevania #trevor belmont #sypha belnades #alucard tepes #alucard #insecure trevor belmont #hurt trevor belmont #platonic trephacard

[dothwrites]

Cas using Enochian pick-up lines on oblivious Dean. Dean doesn't get them, Cas feels rejected each time, and Sammy is done with it all! Can I have that fic, pretty please?

ah, this has been sitting here for a WHILE, so i’m sorry that i’m trash 

lost in translation

---

It begins when Dean is pathetically trying to impress his crush. 

Or at least that would be Sam’s take, if Dean cared enough to ask him. 

Dean would rather say that it began with a simple misunderstanding, one which could happen to anyone. 

He doesn’t ask Cas’ opinion of the situation (and Cas would say that’s the whole crux of the problem). 

Whoever has the correct perspective, no one would argue about the beginning of the affair. It starts one afternoon when Dean is contemplating switching Sam’s creamer with buttermilk, just for a break in the monotony. Cas is with him in the library, his customary suit and coat exchanged for a hoodie and a comfortable looking pair of jeans which Dean suspects used to belong to him (there’s something vaguely familiar about that hole in the knee, and it wouldn’t be the first time Cas has pilfered his room for clothing; several of Dean’s shirts have ended up upon the angel’s body. Cas always seems perplexed when Dean calls him on his thievery, plucking at the shirt with faint confusion--Oh this? I found this down in the laundry room a few days ago and thought it looked familiar, do you want it back? And the question is phrased so forlornly that Dean can’t help but allow Cas to steal another article of clothing out from under his very nose.). Cas dresses down these days. And slouches. Right now, his chin is in danger of disappearing into his chest. The sight delights Dean. There for a while, he hadn’t been sure Cas was capable of relaxing.

It’s an overwhelmingly quiet afternoon. It’s nice, because Dean loves to spend time with Cas when there’s no imminent blood or monsters on their horizons, but it’s also boring. Dean sneaks a glance at Cas over the top of his book. Cas seems perfectly content to sit all day reading some godawful thick, leather bound tome. Dean finds himself less than content, but he doesn’t want to leave Cas. He sighs, shifting in his seat as he pretends to read. After a few more minutes, he sighs again, this time with a little more spite in the sound.

(Dean’s about three seconds away from kicking his feet and whining I’m bored, but Cas doesn’t need to know that.) 

Cas mutters under his breath. Dean recognizes the guttural syllables of Enochian, which is Cas’ go-to language for when he’s saying something hateful and he doesn’t want to get called out on it. Tough luck for him, though, because Dean’s heard one of those words enough to parse its meaning. 

“Did you just call me stupid?” he demands, slapping his book down on the arm of the chair. 

Castiel looks at him, his eyes wide with surprise. “You...understood that?” he asks. “You understand Enochian?”

Not in the slightest, is what Dean should say. He understands one word, and that’s only because Cas uses it enough as an insult that it managed to stick in his mind. But something that looks like fondness, and admiration, and other nice adjectives which Dean would like Cas to apply to him, shines at the edges of Cas’ eyes. So he rolls his eyes a little bit (the audacity of Cas! Asking him if he bothered to study something which was not strictly required!) and scoffs, “Uh, kind of hard not to at this point, you know, what with...” He waves his hand at Cas, hoping that the vagueness of the gesture will cover a multitude of sins. 

And really, he should come clean. If the past fifteen years have taught him anything, it’s that nothing good comes from lying to your nearest and dearest. But this is just a little white lie. Like when he was sixteen and he told Brandy Fletcher he could play a rocking drum solo, because he wanted to impress her and there was no way he would ever be called upon to perform such a task. This is just a little fib, made so that Cas doesn’t think he’s a fucking idiot. 

Plus, there’s something which looks horribly similar to gratitude shining in Cas’ eyes. The emotion brims over until those baby blues can hardly contain it, and Cas looks so goddamned happy. Dean’s not a monster. He’s not going to take that away from Cas just so he can come clean with a Gotcha! moment. 

Cas bites at his lower lip, looking uncommonly shy. Worry starts to stir in Dean’s gut, which is only compounded when Cas says something else in soft yet clear Enochian. As the new phrase doesn’t have the word stupid anywhere in it, Dean doesn’t have the slightest idea of what Cas is saying. The guilt squirming in his stomach gets worse when Cas looks at him, with gentle anticipation, as though he’s expecting a reply. Dean does what humans have been doing since the beginning of time when confronted with a language they don’t understand and smiles, wide and sunny, at Cas. Cas’ forehead creases but he returns the gesture. His eyes are still brimming over with emotion and the sight does something to Dean. 

Dean begins to suspect that he may have started something which he is not equipped to finish. 

---

After that, things get a little weird. Considering Dean’s general life, that’s saying something. 

Dean catches Cas looking at him more, like Cas is having a one-man staring contest with the side of his face. Cas staring at him is nothing to write home about, but his looks have gained new intensity. It makes Dean’s innards squirm with worry as well as something deeper. He’s not willing to examine that feeling any closer, though it is pleasant. 

As if the soulful looks weren’t bad enough, there’s also the thoughtful slant of Cas’ eyes to worry about. Every time he looks at Dean, he looks like he’s working himself up to something momentous. Since momentous decrees from Cas usually come hand in hand with world-ending events and revelations, Dean thinks he can forgiven for dodging Cas’ presence. 

It does him no good: the bunker, for all its space, is only so large in the end, and Cas was once a heavenly messenger who has the patience of millennia. Add that to the fact that Dean needs to eat at least twice a day, and the game of Cornering Dean becomes a game of cards, in which the deck is stacked firmly in Cas’ favor. 

Dean sneaks into the kitchen sometime between midnight and two am. If Sam caught him, then he would get a talking-to about the most appropriate times to eat, better digestive function, and the ravages of heartburn in a man his age, but it’s not his brother sitting at the table when Dean flicks on the light. 

It’s Cas, who blinks owlishly at him, before his face splits into his brightest smile. 

(Cas’ brightest smile is an awkward, crooked little thing. On a regular human being it would be considered unbecoming. On Cas, it’s a thing of glory.)

“Dean,” Cas greets him. Hearing his voice in that low, rough voice never fails to send a little shiver down his spine, and today is no different. “This is an odd time for a snack.” 

“Yeah,” Dean says, a little lamely. The shock of finding Cas in the kitchen has kind of killed his appetite, but it’s not like he can turn around and leave. “Just, you know, had a craving. Why were you here?” 

Cas looks around the kitchen, his mouth pursed. “I like it here. It’s peaceful.” 

Dean looks at him, waiting for the punchline. “You were sitting in the dark, dude.” 

“Oh. Well, I don’t need lights to see in the dark,” Cas says, as though the knowledge that his best friend has some freaky see in the dark cat eye nonsense going on with him isn’t the weirdest thing Dean’s heard all day. 

“Great.” Dean opens the fridge and pulls out a container at random. He spares one second to hope that Sam got rid of all the moldy food before he samples the contents. “Well, I think I’m going back to my room now.” 

He wants to get out of here, not so much because he doesn’t want to talk to Cas (he has no problem with late-night chats with Cas, it’s just that he would prefer such chats take place in his room, preferably in his bed, preferably while both participants were significantly less dressed), but because Cas is starting to get that look again, like he’s getting ready to drop an atomic bomb’s worth of shit on Dean in the middle of the kitchen. 

“Dean.” Cas stands up. He twists his fingers together before he realizes what he’s doing, and then places them flat against his thighs. He takes a deep breath. Before Dean can stop him, Cas opens his mouth. 

Low, rolling syllables flow through the kitchen, the harsh notations of Enochian softened by Cas’ voice. There’s a question in Cas’ eyes, and Dean would answer it, if he only knew what Cas was asking. 

The kitchen falls into silence. Dean gets the distinct impression that walking away is not the appropriate reaction. If only he knew what the appropriate reaction was. 

He settles for plastering a fake ass smile on his face and loosing a brittle laugh which threatens to shatter the lighting fixtures. The corners of his mouth hurt from the wideness of his smile, but not even the small twinge of pain can take away from the brief flash of hurt in Cas’ eyes. 

“Yeah. You bet.” Dean barely restrains himself from giving Cas a big thumbs up.

Cas’ face, if possible, turns even more disconsolate. Dean’s stomach twists at the sight. 

This would be the correct moment to confess. Cas, I don’t have the faintest idea what you said, but I’d really like it if you could say it again in English, so that I could maybe comment on it. Sorry I’m such a jackass. 

Dean does not confess. He reaches out and claps Cas on the shoulder, almost buckling Cas’ knees under the friendly contact. Dean almost stops, but he continues to his room, trying to erase the memory of Cas’ stricken face. 

---

It gets worse. 

Cas says something in Enochian to him the next morning, a tiny, hopeful smile darting across his face. Dean gives him a weak smile in return and tries not to focus on the longing, almost desperate tone of Cas’ voice. “Ok, Cas,” he says, when it becomes clear Cas is angling for something more than a smile that makes it look like he ate some bad tacos. 

Cas takes him by the wrist. This time the syllables which come out of his mouth are almost frantic. His eyes are wide and imploring, and his voice cracks on the last word. 

The truth, Dean. Tell him the truth. 

“Look, I’m sorry, Cas,” Dean says. Confronted by the weight of his failings and his inadequacies, he flees. All the while, he feels Cas’ eyes on his back. 

---

It gets worse. 

Cas continues to mutter Enochian at him, alternating between frustrated, hurt, mocking, and pleading inflections. Each time, Dean looks at him in a mixture of helplessness and shame. 

The last time Cas tries, there’s a faint snap and tingle of grace curling around the room. Dean can taste it in the air, ozone and electricity, before it makes the lamp closest to him spark and pop. “Great, now you’re killing the furniture,” comes out of his mouth before he can stop it. 

Cas recoils as though Dean reached out and slapped him. He says something else in Enochian, his voice small and defeated. He won’t even look at Dean. 

If Dean were a better person, he would come clean. He would apologize to Cas and beg his forgiveness. He would take Cas’ scorn and irritation and lump it in with the rest of the shit that’s gone wrong with his life, and they would move past this. 

Dean’s not a good person. Hell, he’s not even an okay person. He’s a piece of shit who got a hell of a lot luckier than he ever deserved, and Cas is just naive enough not to realize that. 

---

It gets worse. 

Sam walks into the library one afternoon with a dazed look on his face which means he’s just emerged from being caught deep in a book. He runs his hands through his hair and only then seems to realize that Dean and Cas are sitting at opposite ends of the library, deliberately ignoring each other. The tension in the room is thick enough to cut. 

“You guys okay?” he asks, glancing back and forth between them. 

“We’re good,” Dean says shortly, flipping a page of his book with unneeded aggression. 

Sam flicks his eyes towards Castiel. Cas looks over the top of his book, his eyebrows twisted in a scowl. He mutters something most definitely not English under his breath, staring at Dean. 

Sam chokes on nothing. 

“You all right there, Sammy?” Dean glances at Sam, only to see that his brother’s face is bright red. 

“Yeah, I’m great.” 

Castiel says something else in Enochian, sounding more forlorn than angry. Dean didn’t think it was possible for his brother’s eyes to get any wider. “Something you want to share with the rest of the class?” Dean asks. He keeps his eyes on Cas, but the question is meant for both of them. 

“I think you two should really talk,” Sam says, looking back and forth between him and Cas. “I think you’re both missing some information.” 

“What do you mean--” Dean pauses as the obvious answer comes to him. “Hold on. You can understand him?” 

“Don’t talk about me like I’m not in the room,” Castiel says, proving that he can speak English just damn fine when he wants to. Then, because Cas is an asshole whose main job is torturing Dean, he mutters something in Enochian. 

Sam snorts. 

If he didn’t know he would later regret it, Dean would put both of them in the ground. 

“Well, if you want someone to talk to you, then knock it off and speak English!” Dean snaps. “I’ve got no idea why you’re babbling on like that and looking like I kicked your puppy when I don’t answer.” 

Cas scowls, the full wrath of Heaven in his eyes. He starts what sounds like it will no doubt be a lengthy tirade (in Enochian of fucking course), before he’s interrupted by Sam. 

“Dean doesn’t understand Enochian, Cas!” he shouts. 

Two pairs of eyes snap to Sam. Dean’s are filled with furious betrayal, Cas’ with frustrated confusion. Sam ignores them both, rolling his own eyes to the ceiling. “Yeah, look, I’m sorry to cut in your drama or whatever, and I’m sure that you two could keep this up for another three weeks, but I value my sanity. Dean, nut up and tell Cas you don’t speak Enochian. Cas, stop running into a brick wall and tell him what you want. I mean, good God, it’s like I have to do everything around here myself!” 

Sam’s complaining never ceases as he peruses the shelves for the particular book he’s looking for. Both Dean and Cas are referred to multiple times as idiots, sometimes assholes, and once even idjits. Throughout his litany of abuse, Dean and Castiel refuse to look at each other, though Dean does feel a telltale prickling at the back of his neck several times. Every time he looks at Cas, however, the angel has his eyes firmly fixed on his book. 

Dean wonders if Cas would get more pissed if he told him his book was upside down. 

“You ever think about how much pain and agony you could save me if you two assholes would just talk to each other?” Sam finally snaps. Arms laden with books, he levels a fearsome glare at the both of them. “For homework, neither of you are coming out of this library until you’ve actually talked to each other like rational adults. And if you make any weird noises, I’m going to smother both of you in your sleep.” 

He stalks out of the library, leaving Cas and Dean alone once more. Cas looks up from his book, finally realizing it’s upside-down, while Dean puts down his own book. They stare at each other for a long moment, then speak at once. 

“Why didn’t you tell me you didn’t understand Enochian?” “What were you trying to say to me?” 

They stop. Dean swallows, gathers up all of his manly courage, and speaks. 

“So what were you trying to say to me? It must have been pretty exciting to get Sammy clutching his pearls.” 

Cas tilts his head. He considers Dean for a long moment before he crosses the space between them. Cas leans forward, putting his hands on the arms of Dean’s chair. The gesture boxes Dean in, a turn of events which Dean doesn’t struggle against. 

“Why didn’t you tell me you didn’t speak Enochian?” 

Pinned beneath Cas’ gaze, Dean squirms uncomfortably. Now that it’s just him and Cas, his deception seems childish. Would it really have been the end of the world if he’d told Cas he was too stupid and selfish to learn his language? It would have just been another disappointment in Cas’ life, but has it been worth these past few days of being at odds with Cas? 

Heat flushes along the bridge of Dean’s nose as he mutters, “I wanted you to think I was smart.” 

Damn super-angelic hearing. Cas doesn’t miss a beat, though his forehead creases. “You wanted...what? Dean, you are smart.” 

He says it so naturally, as though Dean doesn’t struggle over translations or speaking Latin or cross-referencing indexes or any of the thousand other things that seem to come naturally as breathing to Sam and Cas. “Yeah, sure, I’m a regular fucking genius,” Dean mumbles. 

“You’re capable of finding the problem with a faulty engine with a single look. You built your own EMF meter out of a spare Walkman. Despite your efforts to hide it, you’re very well-read, and you have an innate understanding of some fairly complicated mathematics. I’m not sure exactly what humans qualify as intelligent, but I feel as though all of those skills count.” 

Dean knows his whole face is red. Heat prickles along the tips of his ears and down his neck. “Jesus, Cas,” he mutters. Unable to withstand the force of those blue eyes, he darts his glance down towards the floor. “Most people don’t start sweet talking until the third date.” 

“Well, I’m an angel,” Castiel says, smugly, as though that solves every argument (not a bad strategy; that line’s worked for Cas for years. What else can you say after that?). 

“All right, I answered yours, now you answer mine. What were you trying to say to me?”

Amazingly, Cas’ cheeks color. 

“Come on, Cas,” Dean wheedles, when Cas doesn’t immediately answer. “I told you mine.” 

Cas looks off to the side. He actually shuffles his feet before he answers, “It was just a thought. I thought, maybe, we could...Never mind. It was stupid.” He looks back at Dean and rolls his eyes, showing how ridiculous he finds this whole trial. “I guess, roughly translated, it would amount of something like ‘If only he were as decisive as he is pretty, then there would be no problem’.” He forces a weak laugh. “I said it in the heat of the moment. I was frustrated.” 

Dean blinks in astonishment. Only one fact has managed to slip through the tangle of Cas’s words. “You think I’m pretty?” 

Castiel’s blush deepens. “Anyone who has eyes would think that,” he says, a little roughly. 

An automatic flush spreads across Dean’s cheeks, but he’s able to ignore that. He’s much more interested in what else Cas might have been telling him. “And what was something else you said?” 

Cas coughs. “’Your eyes are bright as the sunrise, yet they fail to see what is in front of them’,” he says. If possible, his already rough voice has deepened. 

“Another.” 

Cas doesn’t pretend coyness. “’You had my heart from the first time I saw your soul’,” he says, in a near whisper. 

Dean can’t hold himself back. He snatches Cas’ hoodie in his hands and drags Cas down to his level. Cas lets out a surprised grunt before he gracefully collapses atop Dean. He’s barely managed to balance himself on Dean’s lap before Dean’s lip are on his. 

Despite Dean’s rushed actions, the kiss is sweet and almost chaste. Cas’ lips are warm and chapped and utterly wonderful. At first, they’re stiff, but only for a second. Then Cas relaxes into the kiss, sighing happily as his hand cups Dean’s cheek. Cas’ stubble scratches against his chin. He’s going to bear the marks of Cas’ affection later, and he couldn’t be more thrilled about it. 

Cas parts from him, but not far. In fact, he’s close enough to Dean that when whispers a phrase in Enochian, his lips brush against Dean’s. 

A shiver of delight runs down Dean’s spine. Now that he knows the gist of what Cas was trying to say to him, Enochian fills him with illicit glee. “What did that mean?” 

Cas kisses him again, adding a cunning sweep of his tongue across the seam of Dean’s lips. “’Of all the stars in the heavens, you shine the brightest’,” he translates, resting his forehead against Dean’s. 

Heat floods through Dean once more. It’s everything he ever dreamed of hearing. It seems impossible that he could have it. There should be a rule against it. Dean Winchester doesn’t get what he wants. 

Except, apparently, Dean Winchester does get what he wants, as evidenced by his lapful of angel murmuring Enochian endearments into his ear. “Hey Cas?” Dean tilts his head to catch Cas’ eye. “When I first saw you, sparks flew. How would you say that in Enochian?” 

Cas thinks for a second before a smile spreads across his face. “I’ll teach you,” he promises, before he pulls Dean’s face towards him once more. 

(Sam’s warning about making weird noises makes a lot more sense now.)

#destiel #destiel fanfic #destiel fic #deancas #deancas fic #dean winchester #sam winchester #castiel #canonverse fic #fluff #dothwrites

[vanillann]

right where you left me (bucky barnes x reader)

someone tell me to stop writing sad 40s!bucky fics that aren’t even that good, thank :)

warning: bad angst and mention of death

based off “right where you left me” by taylor swift

word count: 1.7k

Bucky coughed lightly from the other side of the table, the waiter finally leaving us to sit with ourselves. I smiled, my finger playing with the napkin that sat in front of me.

“How’s the salad?”

I frowned at the weird tension that had grown between us recently, conversation and looks not the same they once were.

“Good, how is the steak?”

“Dry but good.”

The conversation ran out again, the check balancing on the edge of the table as we both sat waiting for something to happen, anything at this point.

“(Y/N)?”

“Bucky?” I leaned back in the booth, folding my finger as I waited for some sort of words to fall from his lips.

“I really need to talk to ya,” he trailed off, coughing again as he grabbed the check and began playing with the little piece of paper.

“About?”

“Us.”

My heart dropped, I wasn’t stupid. Everyone would know how a conversation like this would go, it was obvious we hadn’t been the same but I thought we would fix it by now.

“What happened?” I didn’t move, my eyes piercing thought him as I waited for some sort of lame excuse, some excuse about the war or something.

“I- I,” he trailed off again, finally put the checkbook down and let himself cross his arm, setting them on the table. He looked up at him, his eyes looked so broken and I couldn’t tell you why he was walking away, not me.

“There this girl-“ I drowned everything else out, his mouth was moving but I couldn’t put words to it. The room suddenly slowed down, the room suddenly felt like a box I had been taped in.

“A girl?”

“Dottie, she is a doll,” yes please talk about this new lover of yours, exactly what I need to hear.

I knew I was overthinking everything, but I could feel eyes on me. The check was long forgotten as he went on and on.

“Steve told me I should put you through more unnecessary pain,” he spoke his piece, finally shutting up for a second.

How do you respond to that?

“Dottie,” I repeated the name, my eyes drifting to the window that was across the room, making out that the sun had finally set and the stars were out.

“I’m so sorry (Y/N), you deserve better-“

“You could have been better for me if you loved me,” I spoke softly, my words felt harsher than intended but I could do much more than that.

I felt sympathy for the doll in the kid’s section, the doll that was stuffed in the box to very leave that single moment in their life.

“I’ll always love you, it’s just not the same.” Bucky reached across the table, leaving his hand open for me to squeeze back, his way of removing his guilt.

“Yeah, okay.”

I was pissed, maybe I didn’t have the right but maybe that was the biggest thing I was allowed at this moment.

“(Y/N),” his words felt like forever ago, my stares went.

“I’m fine Barnes, I’ll get a cab. Please just leave.”

He’s titled his head, begging me to just come with him but I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t sit in a car, in his passenger seat that she most likely once sat in, and act like my heart wasn’t ruined.

“I can call Steve,” I simply nodded, Steve was still my friend and I wouldn’t have to worry about catching a cab this late in the late night.

“Okay,” he said nothing else, leaving the money for the tab thankfully, I would have killed him if he left it to me.

“I’m sorry again (Y/N), it’s not you but me,” that he stood from the booth, moving the hat that sat on his head around a little more before he took it off completely, bowing to me quickly, then leaving the restaurant completely.

It’s not you but me.

What a bullshit line, what a bullshit line for a bullshit break up. I looked back out the window on the other side of the restaurant, seeing him standing in the phone booth most likely calling Steve.

Or maybe he was calling Dottie, telling her they could be together.

Maybe it was selfish of me, to be mad at him for choosing his own happiness, but I had only wished my own way at the expense.

I couldn’t be mad at Bucky, I most certainly couldn’t be mad at Dottie. She did nothing wrong, she was just a girl who loved a boy. A boy who no longer loved me.

I felt as if dust had collected on my shoulder for how long I sat at the booth. My eyes roamed the room and not a single waiter or waitress tried telling me to leave. 

I felt the time had frozen before I felt a small tap on my shoulder, my eye-catching sight of familiar blonde hair.

“Hey,” his voice was soft, as it had always been, but this time was much different.

“Hi,” I was shocked at my own voice, the little crack made my hand run over my throat.

“Have you moved since he left?”

I shocked my head, my eyes never leaving that stupid window since I watched his back walk away.

“Sorry you had to come down to collect me,” the sarcasm dripped from my voice, I always got this way when I was upset.

“You’re the only person I’d do it for,” I knew he would do it for Bucky too, but he refuses to actually say his name.

“He just left Stevie,” I felt the tears play behind my eyes, Steve finally pulling at my hand. I stood up, both of us finally leaving that booth in the corner of the restaurant.

It was suddenly my least favorite spot in the world.

I played with the end of the menu, that window in the same spot it was all that time ago.

It felt like it was forever ago at least.

The news played through the speaker over the door, the name of all the fallen of the war.

I was suddenly happy my friend was a super-human, taking down his chance of being called.

“Jeffery Rhode-“ the name rang through the room, my hand grabbing my glass of water as I waited for my salad to come out.

“George Teller, James Barnes-“

I felt myself choke, my hand flying to my throat as I heard the name called. Only a few more followed but I didn’t have it in me to pay attention.

James Barnes.

A fallen soldier.

Fallen meant dead, he was dead.

I felt tears slip down my cheek, my eyes trained back out that stupid window. My brain played with me, acting as if I would still see him in that phone booth.

I couldn’t comprehend my thoughts. How did it always happen in this corner? Why were all my worst moments stuck here?

“May we have a moment of silence for the fallen soldier.”

I needed more than a moment, I needed a lifetime. I wonder how Steve felt, how Dottie felt.

Was he even still with Dottie?

Why couldn’t I wrap my head around it?

“Here’s your salad,” the older woman, the one who recognized me by now, placed the salad before me with a little sad smile. I couldn’t even nod at her, couldn’t even thank her.

I wished she had bought a steak out too, just to know he was there. Even if I knew he would leave me, I would rather have that than him leaving all of us.

“Buck,” I spoke mostly to myself, still coming to terms with everything.

I hope he heard me from somewhere, to know I wasn’t made anymore.

I looked to my wrinkled hand on the table cloth, waited for that stupid salad like I did every time.

The old phone booth from outside was now gone, instead sat at an ATM that was in high demand. I was shocked the restaurant hadn’t gotten torn down yet, but once I noticed the picture with Steve on the corkboard I knew exactly what happened.

The music was different than it once was, the old 40s music was now much different. They would occasionally play a few older songs, ones that made me feel like that poor broke soul again.

I didn’t understand why I kept going back, it was starting to be pathetic but I couldn’t care. It was the only place I understood.

I was stuck in my own nightmare, yet I was doing it to myself at this point.

I heard the bell above the door ring but I didn’t have it in me to turn and look at who it was. I had become familiar with the regulars over the years that would visit the place often.

I watched a raven-haired man walk up to the ATM. I recognized him as Tony Stark, you knew a face like that anywhere. I was shocked he was in town but my thought was distracted when I heard looking boots approaching my table.

I looked up casually, thinking it would be a waiter. I didn’t recognize the hair at first, the long dark hair that looked softer than silk, but the face was the same.

The little stumbled and the same piercing eyes that I could never forget, the same ones that broke my heart twice within one lifetime.

“It’s me-“

“Buck?”

I didn’t get up with the Avenger stuff, Steve told me little things but other than that I was completely separate from that lifestyle.

“Yeah,” he looked nervous, something I never used to with him, he wasn’t a nervous person.

Not with me, not with Steve, probably not with Dottie.

“Can I sit?”

I nodded, watching as he took the seat he took at those years ago. He was dressed differently, the red shirt and the dark jeans were different from the army green suit he wore proudly.

“It’s your seat after all,” I spoke softly, watching him nod to me with a sad smile.

“Steve said you come here often.”

I didn’t respond, still looking at him with a pout and my head was starting to hurt.

Was it really him?

It wouldn’t be that absurd, look at Steve, but they said he died. He looked like the one stuck in time, the one who still hadn’t grown up from that moment.

“I’m right where you left me.”

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[atiny-dazzlinglight]

Red Strings of Fate - Chapter 3

Genre: Fantasy, Fluff, Angst, Slight Humor, Romance

Rating: PG-13

Au/Tropes: Supernatural AU, Demons AU, Monster AU

Pairing: No pairing, Eventual OT8

WC: 14.9K

Chapter Warnings: Symptoms of PTSD mentioned, Jealousy, Manipulation, Implied Smut (at the end but no graphic details)

Ao3 Link

Notes: As I said in the last chapter notes, we are back into Hongjoong’s pov and we are continuing from where we last left off. So please enjoy!

Taglist located at the bottom. Fill out this form if you want to be added.

Last Adventure☜︎☜︎ Next Adventure☞︎☞︎

Hongjoong eyes widened as he felt the other male bring his arms in front of him, stretching them both out in front of him.

He watched the prince’s hand touch the hilt of his sword and that’s when Hongjoong squirmed.

“ I asked a question. Your left hand or your right hand?” He drew his sword closer as he bent down.

“ Please! Don’t do this! I do anything else! Just don’t cut off either of my hands.” Hongjoong pleads, his heart beating fast and damn near in his throat. He hasn’t felt this type of fear since Liam and Elijah. His body started to feel numb as Seonghwa sat there as he decided which hand he wanted to cut.

Hongjoong squeezed his eyes shut as he tried to think of something other than the fact that he’ll be losing a hand. The advisor was holding his forearms firmly and out the way as his sword hovered before selecting his left hand.

Seonghwa nearly brought the sword down and through the flesh and bone of his wrist when he stopped. The faintness of aura seeped into the air and had his body hesitate. It was nothing great from the array of beings he dealt with before, but it’s more so the fact of that type of malicious aura coming from a human.

The prince used his free hand to lift Hongjoong’s chin, “ What are you?”

Hongjoong was confused as he looked up at is blue eyes, “ What?”

“ Don’t try to lie to me. I asked you what you are?” He watched his brows get furrow, clearly a tad annoyed from his first answer.

“ I’m a human.”

“ Don’t lie to me.” Seonghwa grit through his teeth as Hongjoong shook his head back and forth.

“ I swear! I’m just a human man who has human parents and average human strength. There is nothing else to me. A simple peasant boy and nothing more!” Hongjoong yelled at him, his voice firm as he felt his head get pushed down near the ground.

“ Watch your tone.” The man above him said as Hongjoong tried to shake his hand off of him.

Seonghwa had glanced at his advisor. Hongjoong watches them have a silent conversation through their eyes for a minute before Hongjoong gets pulled up off the ground and made to stand on his feet. The bag he stole snatched off his hip as he watched the prince hang it from his belt.

He walked past Hongjoong, and the shorter male watched him before he shoved him to follow. The brown-haired elf gave him a look when he turned around. Hongjoong huffed as he just followed him, knowing very well that he can’t outrun them again. His legs were still screaming at him due to their soreness.

Hongjoong walked through the less crowded area that he ran through just some moments ago. He looked around at the brick structures, covered with vines, a few flowers blooming that he didn’t notice before that he found pretty.

“Don’t even think about trying to escape from us again.” He heard the elf behind him say as he turned his head behind to look at him.

“ Can I have your name?” Hongjoong asked, and he can tell that he threw the wood elf off. His brows raised enough to give himself away.

“Why would you want to know?”

“Well, it’s annoying to try and talk to someone without addressing them with at least a name. I was raised better than that.” Hongjoong watched the man’s face before he slowly opened his mouth.

“It’s Yeosang.”

“Well, Yeosang, I would like to tell you that I have no plans to escape because my legs are still screaming at me even now as we walk, so no, I don’t plan on escaping,” Hongjoong spoke, watching him all the same as he noticed they made it back to the Main Street of where he first ran from them.

Hongjoong watched the prince head back to the stands, and when Hongjoong went to follow, his shoulder was gripped tightly and turned in the opposite direction.

“I thought we were following the prince,” Hongjoong asked as he forced him to go in the direction of a carriage, opening the door to move him inside. He watched the elf say something to the driver before getting in himself and shutting the door.

“ We will be staying here until the young prince comes back from finishing his errands he was supposed to do before you foolishly stole from him.” Yeosang spat out, obviously still passed that he had to bring him here.

“Again, I am sorry for what I did, but I truly needed the money.” Hongjoong watched as that only made the other man more upset.

“You don’t have to steal from people to gain money. There are always other options. It’s the lowest of lows to steal from others.” Yeosang criticized him, and it slowly started to make him irritated.

“You know I have been trying to get a regular job since I traveled here three years ago. I did everything I could for a job and was denied every second I tried. I was forced to be homeless for six months, and I still struggle to find a solid job, even after someone was kind enough to offer me a home. I wasn’t raised to steal by my parents, but when the people and the city are so unforgiving to me every chance they get, am I supposed to accept it?”

Yeosang wasn’t expecting him to speak to him like that, and he tried his best not to have that shred of pity for him show on his face, “ Everyone has a hard time at some point in their lives. You haven’t seen anyone steal here.”

Hongjoong scoffed, and it made Yeosang turn his attention back to him, “ Just because you don’t hear or see anything doesn’t mean it doesn’t happen. I’ve seen plenty of them because we can all recognize each other.”

“It’s not that many of them. There’s always a group of bad people in a sea of good.” Yeosang rebuked, but Hongjoong was quick to respond.

“The line between good and evil and what is right and wrong can be blurred, and if you work in that damn castle, then you should know that very well. Not all the people who steal are bad because they have to choose to steal to make ends meet simply. If stealing were such an issue, there would have been reports about such, yet they never make a fuss because what’s pocket change to you is a fortune for us. Our values and lifestyles are the opposite of each other, so just because you can’t fathom the idea doesn’t mean you are right.”

Hongjoong didn’t care how reckless his tongue was. He wasn’t going to let some uppity wood elf, who only knows how to kiss the ass of the rich that has gold endlessly, fall into their hands. He can royally fuck off.

He saw it in his face.

He saw that he wanted to argue back with him, and he was ready for him to, but then the door of the carriage opened to reveal the prince holding a few things. He looked between the two of them with a raised brow.

“ Was there something that I missed?” He asked, looking at Yeosang, waiting for a response.

Yeosang gave him another look before turning back to the prince, “ Everything is fine. Do you need any help?”

Seonghwa nodded, passing the flowers and bags of fruit to Yeosang, telling the driver to head back to the castle before climbing inside next to Yeosang. Hongjoong felt the carriage move as he huffed.

He should have just listened to Eden. He told him not to get too greedy, or he would deal with the consequences.

But what else was he supposed to do?

Eden stuck his neck out to help him instead of living on the street for the rest of his life. Eden started by stealing until he could have enough to open his tavern. Since then, he had a simple life, and even when following the proper protocols, the city takes most of his earnings and barely has enough for his expenses.

He even makes sure to feed him and make sure that he’s well-nourished and is clean.

All he wanted to do was give the man that helped him start a new life after being forced to start over again, and he couldn’t even do that.

Hongjoong didn’t want to look sad in the carriage with the two elves, but the shift in his demeanor and facial expressions didn’t go unnoticed by the prince that stayed silent.

Seonghwa couldn’t wrap his head around what gave off that malevolent energy from the supposedly human male. It didn’t look like he could use magic, and he gives off no type of physical distinctions of being nonhuman. So what could it be?

He couldn’t help his c,urious nature about it. He hasn't come across someone like him, and he just had to figure it out for himself before he disposed of him.

The carriage stopped and Yeosang was quick to open the door for the prince and Hongjoong tried his hardest not to roll his eyes at his eagerness. The Prince stepped out first, and Hongjoong followed after Yeosang retrieved the purchases they made in town.

Hongjoong eyes scanned the massive structure in front of him, eyes glancing at the fountain in front of the building, slowly walking along the perimeter, mouth slightly agape.

He has always seen the manor from the tavern, and it was always quite beautiful from there, but seeing it in person was something different.

It was elegant and refined. It was truthfully exquisite, curious and Hongjoong found himself angry that he would have dreamed of something like this.

“If you're done daydreaming, follow me,” Yeosang said, making the smaller man turned to him. They both started to walk inside, and Hongjoong rushed to follow behind them, ignoring the side glances that the guards had given him.

The walls were massive, ceilings high with the sun gleaming on the stained glass from the colorful windows above them. Paintings of other high elves mounted on the wall that Hongjoong admired before he nearly bumped into the back of Yeosang.

He watched Seonghwa walk away down the hall, hair flowing behind him as Hongjoong found him watching the prince's body get smaller before he was plucked in the center of his forehead. Looking up, he saw the wood elf scowl at him.

“ Follow me, and don’t you dare try any unnecessary crap.” He scolds, and he ticked Hongjoong off for how he acted towards him.

“ I’ll follow if you tell me where exactly we are going.”

“ I don’t have to tell you anything.”

“ Then I’ll stay right here in this hall.” Hongjoong moved to the wall before sitting down on the floor, enjoying the irritated look on his face.

“ By the Gods, why are you humans so damn difficult?” He berated and it made Hongjoong give a dry laugh.

“ By the Gods, why are wood elves so damn stuck up?” Hongjoong retorted with a smile as he watched him get angrier, “ I promise I can be such an easy guest here and for you, but if you continue to be such a prick to me, I’ll make everything worse for you.”

Yeosang walked over to him and reached for his arm, pulling him up, “ I promise that I’ll cut your tongue off with my sword if you keep running your mouth like this.”

“ If you or the prince wanted to do something, you two would have done that by now. But instead, you brought me here. I don’t know why you both had brought me here against my will, but I do know that if he didn’t tell you to do anything to me, then you can’t.” Hongjoong shook out of his grip as they both stared at each other, “ Now start treating me with some common decency and then this can be easier for us both.”

Yeosang looked at the man up and down, thinking over what he said before mumbling something that Hongjoong couldn’t hear and walking away from the human, “ Just follow me to the living quarters.”

Hongjoong taking his time to follow behind him, a few feet behind him as he stared into the back of the wood elf’s head, “ Why am I going to the living quarters?”

“ Would you prefer the dungeon instead? You living with the other servants of the family sounds too generous in my eyes.” Yeosang looked over and nearly laughed as Hongjoong quickly shook his head, “ So, as I said, that is where I am taking you for now.”

Hongjoong was confused. He tried to steal from the prince and he didn’t lose any limbs. The dungeon would be the most appropriate place for him to be, but he will stay around the other workers who also live in this massive estate. It didn’t make sense to him, and it made him a bit uneasy since he feels that there’s an ulterior motive for doing this.

Hongjoong was led far down the corridor, passing other workers that greeted them and waved at Yeosang or ask him for quick advice that he happily answered. He could tell that they all looked up to the elf and valued his input. Yeosang also looked genuinely happy and satisfied to help them. So maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t as bad as Hongjoong seemed.

Yet again, the harsh behavior could be due to his sticky fingers grabbing the heavy bag of gold and running away when they gave him a chance to return it with no issues.

“ This will be your room until the prince says otherwise.” Yeosang pushed a door open and stepped to the side to let Hongjoong step inside. Hongjoong quietly walked inside, mouth slightly open as he looked at the beautiful room. He walked around the bed, admiring its size as Yeosang watched him from the door. Hongjoong hand touched the sheets and was amazed by how soft they were.

Hongjoong felt like this room cost way more than his life and his next two lives too.

He’s never been in such a place before and he couldn’t help but be stunned by its elegance.

“ Thank you.” Hongjoong’s voice was low, but Yeosang heard him, a tad intrigued by his reactions.

“ If you plan to thank anyone, then thank the prince when he comes by the room. Stay in this room until he comes back and tells you what you can and cannot do. I have other tasks to take care of, so I will be leaving you here alone. However, that doesn’t mean that you can do anything stupid and try to escape. If you try to leave, I will personally come after you myself. Do I make myself clear?” Hongjoong nodded as Yeosang spoke to him.

Hongjoong watched Yeosang close the door and his footsteps leading down the hall before it got quiet.

Hongjoong let out a deep sigh as he took his boots off as he looked around the room, his toes wiggling in the plush carpet underneath his feet as he never felt something this soft. He wondered what animal the fur came from.

He pushed it all to his mind as he walked around the perimeter of the room, hands dragging across the wooden dressers.

He pulled open the drawers to find some clothes sitting inside. He wasn’t sure if he should touch them or not. He doesn't want to give the tawny-haired elf any type of motivation to yell at him. Not that he cared, but more so that he didn’t feel like dealing with that.

So Hongjoong silently walked back to the bed and hesitantly sat down on its expensive sheets. They were soft to his touch. Fingers gliding with ease as he somewhat became enthralled with the material that he never experienced before. It was then that he decided to lay down on the bed completely.

He felt his body slightly sink into it, almost welcoming him with such ease that he closed his eyes for a minute.

Maybe it’s because he doesn’t know how long he would be able to touch such luxury. He exhaled before inhaling the strong smell of fresh cotton from the bed, and Hongjoong felt his aching muscles from running sigh along with him.

He would do anything to be with Eden and laugh around with the patrons of his tavern because that’s his home, but he can’t help but wish to be entangled in this lifestyle just a bit longer.

The moment Hongjoong’s body started to quiet down and convince him to relax in this unfamiliar place, the door opened suddenly, and it made him open his eyes and immediately sit up in the bed.

He greeted him with the face of the prince, who happened to be alone this time. You couldn’t see Yeosang at all from where he sat, and he didn’t see him in the hall either before he shut the door behind him.

It was quiet.

Both of them were staring at each other. Hongjoong, not knowing what to expect from the prince, sat back near the headboard of the large bed. Seonghwa's eyes were piercing him as it felt like he was planning something that Hongjoong had no idea of.

“ It’s good to see that you got comfortable enough for a nap here, but now I have business to talk to you about.” His tone was harsh, and Hongjoong knew that he better pay attention to what he had to say. “First off, I’ll introduce myself. I am the first prince of Crescent Hill and next in line to the throne, Park Seonghwa. What is yours?”

Hongjoong swallowed before answering him, “K-Kim Hongjoong.”

“So Kim Hongjoong is the name of the man who was foolish enough to steal from me in broad daylight?” Seonghwa started as he walked away from the door and made his way to the center of the room. Hongjoong’s eyes following him the whole time he moved, “ But this is now besides that point of you being a petty thief.”

“Then what is this about?” Hongjoong asked him as he adjusted himself on the bed. Hongjoong admiring his side profile before he stopped his pacing and turned his head in his direction.

“ What did I ask you out in the alleyway?” Seonghwa hinted at and watched Hongjoong rake up his brain for the answer before looking back up at the high elf.

“ You had asked me what I was?”

“ And I still need an answer to the question.” Seonghwa turned his body to face him completely.

Hongjoong huffed, crossing his arms over his chest, “ I did give you an answer. Whether you find the answer I gave earlier efficient enough is a problem for you and not myself.”

It was then that Seonghwa crossed the room very quickly and had slammed his hand beside Hongjoong’s head on the headboard. It startled Hongjoong enough to jump and stare up at the prince with wide eyes. His blonde brows were furrowed and his eyes were sharp.

“ You may have human strength and some human agility, but your aura says differently. I know I’m not wrong in this.” Seonghwa argued and he saw the confusion in Hongjoong’s expression once more.

“ What is an aura?” He questioned, a slight tilt of his head as he waited for an answer from him.

“ Aura is this very distinctive atmosphere that surrounds and is generated by a person, place, and thing. Whether it is small or big, there’s some type of aura surrounding everything around us. So that also includes humans, but usually, it’s a tiny amount of aura that’s produced from them, and they are all generally the same.” He explains in great detail as Hongjoong listens.

“ So, what is the problem with my aura?” Hongjoong looked up at the elf, now curious in his reasonings.

“ Despite it being faint, I sensed such evil and tainted aura coming from you that wouldn’t be possible for a regular human to generate. As much as history knows, it’s completely unheard, yet here you are.” Seonghwa gritted through his teeth, and it made Hongjoong glance down.

None of this made any sense to him. He was strictly human and nothing less.

How could he be walking around with a ‘tainted’ aura like this?

It made his head spin as the back of his head rested against the headboard. Seonghwa pulled his face away but was still fairly close as he sat down on the bed. He was still staring at him when he looked up.

“ I seriously don’t know how to answer your assumptions about me. I was born by human parents and was surrounded by nothing but humans for the most part. I wouldn’t know how this could happen.” Hongjoong’s eyes were cast down, still lost in thought as Seonghwa tried to think of some possible explanation.

“ You said you were surrounded by humans ‘ for the most part.’ So I can assume that you are around other beings besides them. If that is true, then can you tell me what type of species you commonly stayed around.”

Hongjoong gave an empty laugh as he looked back up at the prince, a look of agitation in his eyes, “ My old home had a small number of nonhumans who lived there peacefully, but there was a pair of demons who decided to make my life a living hell because I stopped them from hurting someone.”

Hongjoong crossed over his chest as he chewed on his bottom lip as he thought about, “ It was always stupid things and nothing serious, but the last time, they crossed the line and hurt me real bad.”

His mind flashed to that brutal beating. He heard their morphed voices and laughter echoing in his head until it overlapped, and he wanted to leave his mind. He was hearing Ava screaming for them to stop and to leave him alone. He was feeling incapable of breathing since he got slammed down. Remembering how weak he felt, how tiny he truly felt, and how hopeless he felt.

Seonghwa watched the look of pain and terror rise to his face, and it took him by surprise. The smaller male was squeezing his arms so tightly that he could see his blunt nails slowly dig into his skin. He could see him holding his breath and never exhaling.

“ Kim Hongjoong?” He questioned, hesitantly reaching forward to tap his leg.

Hongjoong was so deep in the nightmare replaying in his head that when he felt something touch him, he jumped back. Panicked, he looked forward and realized who was in front of him.

Wasn’t he in the alley?

“ Are you okay?” Seonghwa grew concerned for him. He knows nothing of what those demons did to him, but for them to cause a reaction like this from just thinking back to it.

Hongjoong finally took a deep breath and released his hold on his arms as they fell to his sides. He couldn’t find the strength to look up at him after all of that. His hand reached up to wipe away the tears that almost threatened to fall in front of the prince. It made him angry with himself.

Hongjoong didn’t want to show this man his weaknesses, but I’m guessing he couldn’t control himself as his mind had spiraled out of control. But maybe it had brought some clarification to him.

He was a human, but his aura was ‘supposedly’ evil.

Hongjoong had finally looked up at Seonghwa, who was patiently waiting for him to respond to him, “ Could aura be transferred to another person?”

Seonghwa brought up his hand to rest his chin in, “ Most of the time, beings that can control their auras usually place them on valuables or their territories, so no one bothers them. I haven’t heard of them placing their auras on other people.”

Could that explain everything? It could be the reason why it is so faint and why most people wouldn’t notice it. But again, what if he is just trying to trick him into escaping? Seonghwa doesn't think that he is that much of a fool, but he did steal from him.

Seonghwa looked back up at the man, “ When did that situation happen?”

Hongjoong ran his fingers through his hair as he tried to calm himself down slowly, “ I was 18 when it happened, and I’m 21 now.”

“ That sounds more than just aura. Do you regularly hang around such demons?” Seonghwa questioned him, watching his body finally ease itself against the wooden bed frame.

“ Demons and nonhumans never really scared me before, even after that incident. I haven’t been around any of them since I was here, but then again, some kinds hide in plain sight, and I wouldn’t know. Does aura not stay attached for that long?” Hongjoong tilted his head, and it made him look more childlike to the prince.

“ It’s unheard of as far as my knowledge, but I’ll figure that out for myself,” Seonghwa stood up from the bed and walked back to the center of the room, “ Because of my need to learn and comprehend everything, I want to figure out the mystery of this dark aura that surrounds you. You’ll be under surveillance for as long as that takes. I won’t bind you to this room and you're allowed to walk throughout the premises and you will be fed and bathed. Try and escape and I will put you down and just examine your corpse if need be. Do you understand, Kim Hongjoong?”

“ B-but what about my life outside of here? I can’t just stay here!”

Hongjoong is grateful that they aren’t killing him or taking any limbs from him, but he would rather be back in the tavern with Eden and the rest of the tavern’s patrons.

“ You should have thought about that before you committed the deeds that you did. Try if you must, but it would only result in death.” Seonghwa gave him a stern look. He knew he was serious.

Hongjoong couldn’t just run like how he did in town. This was a heavily guarded place with trained guards. He was royally screwed.

“ Oh, before I forget,” Seonghwa watched the smaller man process his words as he walked back to the door before looking over his shoulder. A grin that gave no sense of calm to Hongjoong’s nerves

“ Welcome to the Park Estate, Kim Hongjoong. I do hope you enjoy your stay.”

THREE WEEKS LATER

Several days had passed since he was invited ( very much forced) to stay in the royal family’s estate who ruled over the town he lived in.

It was honestly better than what he had initially imagined. The staff was told that he was new help, so he simply joined in with some of their duties.

With him joining with the help, he traveled throughout the massive home and had a bit of an idea of where everything was.

The left side of the estate was where the King and his family, meaning Seonghwa, lived. Some higher-up employees, such as Yeosang and some generals in charge of warriors, stayed there as well. There were some standard rooms like the study, the library, and meeting halls, but he knows nothing as far as anything else.

The center of the estate is where the main hall room was located and the kitchen and a few other rooms that he didn't know about. He only passes some of these rooms because he has to go clean some of these areas.

The right side of the estate was where he and the other staff members lived. Everyone had a bedroom, storage, and bathrooms, while some shared a common area. It was shocking to see so many staff there that were genuinely eager, let alone happy, to work for the prince and the family. Even though Hongjoong says that he can’t blame them when he bears witness to how well they are treated.

While Hongjoong truly wants to be back home with Eden, he did make friends with some of the other staff that managed to keep him hopeful and happy.

One of the friends he made was a young man named Subin. He’s been working there for a little over a year. Even though his main job is cleaning-related, he never voices any compliments and is usually in a good mood whenever he speaks. It’s always nice talking to him, and he gives him a good laugh when he needs one.

Hongjoong pretty much did a little bit of everything, even though he wasn’t supposed to. He was usually just supposed to clean a particular area that he was assigned for the day, but he would always end up helping the staff in the kitchen or tending the vast gardens. He even helped some of the warriors polish their weapons after battle and sparring.

Neither Yeosang nor Seonghwa predicted how fast Hongjoong would become well-liked at the estate, but that was just Hongjoong’s personality and friendly nature.

It was just another day Hongjoong had finished his tasks for the day and bored out of his mind. He was walking by the stained windows as he gazed outside into the town, wondering if he could see the tavern again before he heard loud giggles echoing the halls along with fast pitter-pattering of feet.

Hongjoong turned his head in the sound direction before he felt something bump into his legs and let out an ‘oof. Looking down, he saw two children, one on the floor and the other one catching up the other.

“I told you to be more careful!” The taller one yelled as the other one rubbed her nose.

Hongjoong squatted down to be her height as he tried to make sure she had no wounds or marks on her body, “ Hey, are you okay?”

The tiny child looked up at him and nodded, “ My nose hurts, but I’m okay!” She rubbed her nose before looking up at Hongjoong.

Hongjoong gave her a soft smile and also offered his hand to help her stand. The bigger child had watched Hongjoong help her up, “ Are you new?”

Hongjoong nodded as he looked at her, noticing how the younger of the two stared up at his face, “ I’m Hongjoong. What’s your name?” Hongjoong kept his tone light and friendly as the little girl smiled at him.

“ Elva!” She yelled, and it made Hongjoong giggle.

“ What a pretty name,” He looked up at the other child, “ And yours is?”

“ I’m Estel. She’s my little sister.” Estel watched her younger sister reach for him; arms stretched that had Hongjoong shocked himself. She watched him hesitantly lift the girl, and she smiled the moment that he did. Hongjoong had her body resting on her forearm.

“ Can you take us to the kitchen, please? We were on our way to get us some snacks.” Elva giggled as she waited for him to answer.

“ Well, you asked so sweetly, so how could I say no to you?” Hongjoong said as he started to turn his body before looking at the older of the two, “ Will you still be joining us?”

Estel shook her shock as she nodded as Hongjoong started to head for the stairs, Estel looping her arm when he walked. Estel watched her sister talk the man’s head off, still shocked that she trusted and got comfortable with the random man so fast in so little time.

Estel knew her sister was usually wary of any new person for a while, whether she met them or not. But this was the first time either of them had seen the man Hongjoong, yet there she was in the kind man’s arms.

Hongjoong didn’t notice the other sister’s stare as the younger talked his head off about the different foods she liked to eat, nor did he notice how some of the staff glanced at him to see the sister’s so close to him when he was barely in the castle for a month.

But they continued to walk down the stairs and made their way to the kitchen. Hongjoong used his shoulder to push the door open and peek inside, seeing a familiar face. The man turned his head after hearing the door, and he watched the man sigh.

“ What do you want now, Hongjoong?” He put down the knife he was using and stared at him.

“ Well, I missed you too Jin, but I wanted to get some snacks for myself and these two,” showing both sisters, and it made Jin widen his eyes.

“ Didn’t I give you two snacks earlier? Why are you back here, and you brought him back too.” Jin pinched the bridge of his nose as Hongjoong put Elva down.

“ Can’t we have a bit more Mr. Jin? Please?~” Elva ran over and clung to his leg.

“ If I keep giving you sweets and you fatten up, your mother and the prince will have my head!” Jin exclaimed as he rubbed his throat, and it only made her giggle.

“ We would never let him hurt you” Estel smiled as she eyed the desserts on the table that Hongjoong’s eyes also caught as he moved closer to the tray.

“ Jin, what type of dessert is this? I haven’t seen those before.” Hongjoong tore his eyes away for a split second to look at Jin with a childlike gaze.

Before Jin could speak, one of his assistants, Jaemin, came inside with an empty tray, “ Those are peach puffs.”

“They look fluffy and soft and look delicious~” Estel added as she and Hongjoong stared at each other and looked back at the tray. Elva was heading back to them, asking for Hongjoong to pick her back up, and he did.

Hongjoong knew the look that she had. It was the very same look he gave when he decided to steal from the prince.

Without a second thought, Estel snatched two puffs in her tiny hands, “ Grab one for Elva!” Estel yelled as Jin tried to run over to them.

Hongjoong hesitated for a split second before taking a puff as well and rushing out the door, hearing Jaemin’s laughter and Jin’s nagging.

“I make it up to you tonight, Mr. Jin!~” Hongjoong shouted as he followed behind the girl with her giggling as they ran. He knew Jin wasn’t going to chase him and just smack his hands when he sees him again.

They slowed down and sat down in the hall by the steps on the floor. He gave Elva her puff before placing her in his lap, smiling when she started munching on it. Estel handed Hongjoong his own, and you all ate the puffs quietly in the halls.

There was a sort of peace as you three ate the stolen food on the floor enjoying the silence as they enjoyed the sweet treat. The peaches were fresh, and the cream was fluffy. Hongjoong was enjoying his time with the sisters as his eyes were closed.

“Ddeonghwa!”

Hongjoong’s eyes opened as he watched Elva scurry out of his lap and run towards the blonde prince; his blue eyes were staring at Hongjoong, a stoic look on his face until Elva drew closer and he gave her a sweet smile.

A smile that Hongjoong didn’t know the man could take.

“ Now, what are you doing out here? Are you and Estel causing trouble? ” The prince’s voice was soft, maybe even delicate as he crouched down, opening his arms as she ran right into them.

“ We ate some peach puffs with Hongjoong!” She yells as she goes to feed the last bit of puff she had to Seonghwa, who chuckled and opened his mouth.

“ It does taste delicious.” Seonghwa smiled as Hongjoong watched with wide eyes.

Estel had gotten up as well, a big smile gracing her face as she ran over to hug him as well, “ Are you busy with duties for the rest of the day?”

“ No, I just came back from finishing my tasks for the day.” Seonghwa tucked her dark hair behind her ear as he spoke.

“ Can we go to the gardens then?” Elva asked with big doe eyes, hoping that the man would say yes.

“ Of course we can go. Would you like to go now?” Seonghwa tilted his head as she jumped up and down with excitement, a clear yes by her actions.

“ Oh! Can we bring Hongjoong with us too?” Estel asked and both Hongjoong and Seonghwa weren't expecting her to ask that. They both had looked at each other, not initially knowing how to answer it.

Hongjoong tried to help the prince as he’s stood up, “ Maybe I shouldn’t go with you all-”

“ Nooooo,” Elva runs over to him, clinging onto his leg, “ Please come with us, so can I show you the flowers there pleaseeeee.” She begged and Hongjoong felt like he couldn’t tell her no.

“ Join us, Kim Hongjoong. It’s quite hard to tell the little one no.” Seonghwa spoke, looking at him with eyes that were unreadable as Hongjoong eventually agreed.

The sisters eventually pulled both of them out towards the gardens, Seonghwa sitting on one of the benches as the sisters pulled Hongjoong around to the flowers that they found were pretty. Hongjoong stared at the white camellias and pink roses that Hongjoong found himself getting so enthralled in them as he reached out to touch them all.

Seonghwa watched from where he sat, watching Hongjoong’s movements as he noticed the childlike gaze he had just for the flowers, and Seonghwa found his face softening a bit.

They were just flowers. They weren’t too memorable or unique, but here was the tiny human being memorized by some vibrant flowers.

Seonghwa immediately found it foolish and childish in his mind, but something in the back of his mind found his reactions adorable, and the moment that it crossed his mind, he froze and shook his head back and forth to get rid of the thought.

He looked back up and realized that the sisters were pulling the man before, having him sit right beside him. He smiled at them as they told them they would get them both a surprise and ran away before either of them could say anything.

The moment the girls were far enough away from them, Seonghwa’s smile dropped, and he turned to face the shorter man, “ What ulterior motives do you have, Kim Hongjoong?”

Hongjoong giggled, his legs crossed as he leaned back onto the bench before turning to look him in the eyes, “ I was waiting for you to say something to me. I wasn’t expecting you to do it so soon, though.”

“ Answer my question.”

Seonghwa watched him roll his eyes before looking back at him, “ There’s no motive or planning. I like my life very much. Those lovely children ran into me in the halls after I finished my duties for the day. Elva asked for me to come with them to the kitchen.”

Seonghwa stared at him, nowhere near satisfied with his answer, “They don’t usually warm up to any new faces so fast. Perhaps, you used some type of magic on them.”

“ Wouldn’t such a high-ranked elf like you would have noticed any magic traces on them as you did with the tiny amount of dark energy on me?” Hongjoong raised his brow and it took everything in him not to laugh at the look on the prince's face.

It was a mix of shock and maybe a pinch of flustered as he watched him scramble to try and respond to him, his mouth opening and closing, not knowing what to say.

Hongjoong found that face more fitting on him than the stoic one he walks around with.

It makes him look younger. It made him look youthful.

It made him look cuter.

Huh?

“ I guess you're right….” The prince mumbled, not looking at him anymore

Hongjoong, being lost in his thoughts, nearly missed what he said, “ Did you just say I was right?”

“ I did,” Seonghwa answered, feeling Hongjoong lean closer to him.

“ Say it again.”

“ What?”

“ Say that I was right again.” Hongjoong pushed, moving closer to the elf, feeling their thighs touch.

“ No,” Seonghwa turned to the side. He felt the man close the distance between them again, and he was ready to yell at him when he turned his head around, but his voice died down when he noticed how close their faces were.

Hongjoong wasn’t expecting him to turn around either, and he knew the prince could see him visibly swallow as he also took note of their closeness. The last time he had his face this close to his face was when they were in his room, and he was threatening him with the sword.

But now, there were no weapons in sight. It was just the two of them, up close and personal. Hongjoong couldn’t stop his eyes from looking over the handsome face. He found himself admiring his cheekbones, the shape of his nose, and daringly eyeing his lips.

They looked pretty and soft before his eyes glanced back up to catch the pair of bright lapis staring back at him.

He was waiting for the man to yell for his staring and the lack of personal space, but it never came. He just kept eye contact with him, and Hongjoong wasn’t sure what he should do. He knew that he could see the faintest of blush coat his cheeks, and he was going to lose it.

By the gods, he was lucky to be broken from the trance as he heard the sisters yell for them as they got remotely closer to them.

Hongjoong was quick to move back to where there was a reasonable amount of distance between them, and he heard Seonghwa clear his throat and turned his head back away from him.

Hongjoong smacked his cheeks a bit before quickly putting on a smile as Elva ran over to him, her hands dirty from the soil as Estel came over with some flowers in her hands. Hongjoong picked the younger sister up and sat her on his lap, and Estel sat in between him and Seonghwa, which he was grateful for. “ What were you two up to for you both to have such dirty fingers?”

Hongjoong’s tone was light and bubbly as he took out a cloth from his pants pocket and gently took her tiny hands to clean them.

“ We found some pretty flowers and we pulled two up for you both!” She squeals as Estel hands them both a flower. It was a red Gardenia and Hongjoong brought it to his nose to smell, smiling when he did.

“ This is a beautiful flower. Thank you.” He gave them a big smile that they quickly returned, not catching Seonghwa looking at him once more with a smile that went unnoticed by the party as the children talked both of their ears off, but they didn’t mind as they sat in the gardens with them.

They both stayed there with them, idly talking and playing with the children, as they were watched from the window, their earlier interaction not going unnoticed as a brow twitched before walking away.

ONE MONTH LATER

It’s been about six weeks since Hongjoong was made to stay there in the castle, and the time he was having there was completely different from that initial week.

Especially when it came between him and the prince of the estate.

He found his eyes lingering on the prince whenever he walked past him, or he caught him after a lesson or meeting. Sometimes, he would see the prince meeting his gaze, and it would immediately make his face flash and have him quickly walk away.

He didn't know why he started to get so nervous around the elf prince, but he did. Ever since their trip to the gardens with the children, he hasn’t been able to look at him calmly.

Speaking of the sisters, Estel and Elva always tried to steal him away while he was doing his tasks for the day. Whether it was bringing in shipments from other cities to him having to clean the floors and windows thoroughly, they tried their best to steal him away.

The other workers found it amusing, never really minding if they stayed out, not as they worked since they never really caused anyone trouble, but they did find it odd how much they went to strictly Hongjoong and no one else.

Hongjoong had just managed to avoid the sisters, both feeling mischievous as they were messing with Subin before quickly asking where the small brown-haired man was.

It wasn’t that he didn’t love their company, but he just didn’t have the energy to play with them. Sadly, they didn’t give up that easily, and they were chasing him.

Hongjoong had some reasonable distance between these girls, them both giggling and smiling as they were trying to catch up. “ Hongjoong, where are you going?” Estel giggles and it took everything in him not to laugh.

He glanced around the halls, spotting a wooden door and quickly opening and shutting it silently as he pressed his ear against the door. Hongjoong heard the girls go past the door, quickly stopping when they couldn’t hear his steps or see him since it was a long hallway.

“ Where did he go?” Elva asked, confused as Hongjoong backed away from the door. He knew their hearing was better than his, so he tried his best not to make any sounds. His eyes never leaving the door until he bumped into something and a hand quickly covered over his mouth.

Hongjoong’s heart jumped into his throat as he tried to turn around and was greeted by those same hypnotizing blue eyes as he leaned to his ear, “ Say calm if you want the girls to leave.”

His voice was low and it sent a shiver down his spine, but he stayed still and quiet. He could still hear the girls talking right outside the door.

“ You think he went into here,” Elva asked, pointing to the door that indeed had Hongjoong right behind it.

“ I don’t think he did. No one is allowed in there and that includes Hongjoong,” Estel thought for a bit before the two heard a sigh. “ We lost him, Estel, so let’s go and get some snacks from Mr.Jin!”

Hongjoong heard Elva make this happy noise as she started to run off to the kitchen, Estel right on her tail as the footsteps and laughter slowly went away, and Hongjoong let out a sigh, unconsciously resting his head against his body and Seonghwa stiffened a bit.

Seonghwa stared to the top of his head, staying completely still and not knowing what to do for a minute.

Hongjoong, unknowing of him stiffening behind him, turned around to face him for a split second before looking past him, “What room is this?”

Seonghwa snapped out of it for a split second before turning around to look in his direction, “This is the castor room. This is where I study and learn new magic.”

Hongjoong walked deeper into the room, eyeing the tree and wood decor in the room, his eyes trailing to the colored glass that brought in the light that illuminated the room. Hongjoong eyes landed on the book that must have been where Seonghwa was sitting.

“So you plan on staying here, even though the young ones left you alone already?” Seonghwa walked past him as he sat back in the chair that Hongjoong was eyeing. He turned in his seat, leaning back to look at him and wait for his answer.

“ I won’t touch anything. I just want to watch you work. I finished my task for the day and I have never seen magic before, so I’m a bit curious.” Hongjoong admitted as he eyed the chair that was next to him.

Seonghwa thought it over, tempted to send him off so he could enjoy his time alone like he usually does. But glancing at the look on his face and eyes made him sigh and turned back around. “ Sit in the chair and don’t touch anything.”

Hongjoong sat in a chair, far away from Seonghwa and his work. Hongjoong eyes scanned the table and saw the books and vials that were over most of the table. His eyes were trailing up to look at the elf prince, who was focused on the text in the book.

His blonde hair pulled back this time in a ponytail, a few loose hairs as his eyes scanned over the text. His hand reached for the feather and dipped it in ink before writing some notes on his own, him noting how pretty his handwriting was as well before looking back up to his face.

Hongjoong doesn’t know how he found himself staring at his profile as he worked, despite wanting to bother him just a bit. He was just enamored with how the gods decided to sculpt such a beautiful-looking man.

He had to be honest. He found Seonghwa attractive. Yeah, he tried to kill him and take his fingers from him, but he was still hot.

Hongjoong chuckled to himself and the sound drew in Seonghwa’s attention, “ What’s so amusing over there?” He asked as he got up, grabbed some materials from a shelf, and brought them back to the table.

“ Would you prefer that I be honest?” Hongjoong asked.

“ I don’t like being lied to, so yes.”

“ I was sitting here thinking about how handsome you are.”

He almost dropped the materials in his hands.

“ Pardon?”

“ You told me to be honest and I said I was sitting here thinking about how handsome you were. Do you not know that you are handsome?” Hongjoong tilted his head, eyes glancing back at the other vials, his fingers tempted to reach out and touch them.

“It’s not that I don’t know that I have good looks, but that’s not what I was expecting to hear. But why would that have made you laugh?”

“ I thought that despite you threatening to take off any type of limbs, I couldn’t lie and say you aren’t attractive. I don’t think I can be good-looking anymore if I lose an arm.” Hongjoong smiled as he dragged his fingertips over the vials, despite being told not to touch anything.

“ A missing limb wouldn’t make you less attractive,” Seonghwa said bluntly, and Hongjoong wasn’t expecting that type of response. It made him stare at the icy blonde prince.

“ I’m sorry, what was that?”

“ I know you heard me loud and clear, but maybe those human ears of yours aren’t too good, so listen closely,” Seonghwa grabbed his collar, making Hongjoong yelp as Seonghwa ghosted his lips by the shell of Hongjoong’s ear, “ I said a missing limb wouldn’t make you less attractive, Kim Hongjoong.”

Hongjoong felt the blush cover his cheeks and a shiver run down his spine from having his voice and breath so close to him. His voice sounded more profound than usual, or was that just his mind playing with him? But this man. This prince had called him attractive and he didn't know how to react to that.

Seonghwa enjoyed the silence from the man as he let go of his collar and went back to focusing on the magic in front of him. He watched from the corner of his eye at how Hongjoong adjusted himself before getting comfortable and watching him work once more.

He enjoyed the sort of “ peace” that befell them both. It was comfortable and relaxing as the only thing Seonghwa could hear was him mixing the elixirs and potions and the glasses occasionally clinking together. But then his ear picked up on a sound that made him look over again.

He saw the tiny man with his head resting in his arms, lightly snoring. He watched his shoulders rise slowly with every breath, and tossed his hair slightly to the side.

Seonghwa marked where he was at last and closed his book before turning to face him fully. He slowly reached over and moved his hair out of his eyes. He pulled his hand back when Hongjoong moved before going still again.

Seonghwa found himself gradually leaning closer, basking in the scent that was rolling off of him. He couldn’t put his finger on it. He never had the chance to figure out what his smell was when he got close the last few times.

Seonghwa didn’t even realize how close he had gotten to Hongjoong’s sleeping face. His nose was almost brushing against him, and he didn’t fully grasp the idea that he wanted to kiss his forehead. But that sounds….wrong.

He shouldn’t desire to do such a thing, especially someone who should just be treated like a common thief. Everything in Seonghwa’s mind told him not to do it, and he knew his lips were inches away. All he had to do was inch a tiny bit forward and he would do it.

Just a tad bit closer and that’s it. Just that simple. But it still felt wrong.

It took a few seconds, but Seonghwa relaxed and looked back at the sleeping man before backing up in his seat. He knew better and he wouldn’t. Whatever urge he had will be swallowed and locked away since he knows it was wrong.

But at the very least, he petted his head and couldn’t stop the small smile as he leaned into his hand a bit.

Seonghwa enjoyed the feeling before he heard a quick knock on the door before it swung open. Seonghwa pulled his hand away fast and went back to grab his book, almost doing it in such a calm and collected manner as if he wasn’t petting the sleeping man.

Yeosang turned around and brought Seonghwa his tea with a smile before he stopped, his eyes immediately locking on the Hongjoong.

Yeosang did his best not to have his face falter as he walked over to the table, sitting the tray of fruits and tea down on a nearby table, “ I brought you some fruits and tea. I didn’t know you would have a guest, or else I would have brought another cup of tea.”

“ This wasn’t planned, but there is no need for that,” Seonghwa reached over and grabbed a strawberry and took a bite from it, letting out a tiny hum as it touched his tongue, “ But I appreciate the snacks. I was a bit famished.”

“ Then you should be eating something more filling.” Yeosang quipped, boldly stealing a grape for himself and popping it into his mouth as he saw the prince smile.

“Then do you know what is being prepared for lunch, Yeosang?.”

“ I can find out if you’d like.”

“ There’s no need for that,” Seonghwa stood up and went for another book on the shelf, “ You do enough for me as it is.”

Yeosang looked back at Hongjoong, sending the sleeping man a look that Seonghwa couldn’t see before fixing it as the prince turned around. Yeosang watched the head back to the table, seemingly comfortable with having Hongjoong stay beside him like that.

“ Yeosang, do you know what the rest of my day looks like? I didn’t meet with the King recently.” Seonghwa asked, eyes glued to the new book in his hands.

Yeosang stepped forward, on the opposite side of the table from Hongjoong, “ As far as today, you have to spar with the general and Lady Nora before dinner. Your schedule is quite free beside the event the King had planned that needs your actual attendance.”

Yeosang watched the man tsk as he looked at him, “ It is coming up, isn’t it? I don’t want to be there.”

“ I don't either, but you know we have no say for this one. You already have some attire being made; the seamstress is almost finished with that. You have the fitting tomorrow, and then the event is two days from now.” Yeosang explained as he heard another deep sigh from Seonghwa.

“ I don’t want to be in the faces of so many nobilities, especially with most of them being fools and not wanting to listen. You ask how to improve things, I tell them, and they don't listen or just resort to saying I’m a spoil and know-it-all brat that understands nothing. But if that's the case, why ask me for my input to begin with? This happens all night long, and you know this.” Seonghwa allowed himself to slip into his chair just a bit and Yeosang gave a small smile at the action.

“I’ll assist you the best way I can.” Yeosang bows slightly and Seonghwa gives a smile of his own before his head turns around when he hears a groan coming from his left. He watched Hongjoong stretch and sat up from where he was, yawning and stretching his arms. Hongjoong turned and looked over at Seonghwa before his eyes turned to look at Yeosang.

“ I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep here.” Hongjoong rubbed his eyes a bit and the prince thought it made him more childlike as he watched him.

“ I would have woken you up if it was a nuisance for me.” Seonghwa pointed out a comment that didn’t go unnoticed by the advisor, “ Also, while I’m thinking of it, there is an event that will be happening in two days, and you will also have to attend.

“Why?” He wasn’t expecting both Hongjoong and Yeosang to say it at the same time.

“ Only you and I know the real reason why Kim Hongjoong is in this castle, but to others, he is a mere worker. Just like the rest of them, he will be working and most likely be a server to the guests.” Seonghwa pointed out and Yeosang got quiet. Choose to say no.

Hongjoong knew he was right, and he didn't have a choice to say no in this type of situation. “I’ll do my best during this event.”

“ I expect you to.”

TWO DAYS LATER

“Never knew you could clean up so well, Hongjoong. Almost didn’t recognize you.” Subin teased, adjusting his clothes as he smiled at him.

The two of you had spent the day together getting everything ready for the event that’s happening tonight. You expected not to see the Prince and his advisor until the evening, and so far, you’ve been correct. After all the necessary preparations, the workers were all told to change and hurry back before the guest arrived.

Hongjoong eyed himself in the large mirror, admiring his appearance. He never dressed in something like this before, primarily to him not being able to afford something like this. He was dressed in white. A long-sleeved flint-colored top that was buttoned as that top before split down the center passed his belly button and stopped at his knees with delicate gold details that could go unnoticed. White pants that were a bit scrunched at the ankle due to his height, but nothing too bad to where he would walk on them. A high necked vested jacket latched at the top before flowing down and stopping at his thighs. The latch was gold, the edges of the material, and some white and gold shoes to match.

It was pretty simple in appearance, but it indeed was the fanciest thing he had worn. Subin was wearing the same color scheme but was designed differently. “ So funny, now let’s hurry up because we have to go back.”

“ Do you remember how to get there?”

“ No, not at all, so hurry up so you can show me how to get there.” Hongjoong laughed with Subin as they walked out of the room, following other staff that had to work.

If Hongjoong was honest with himself, he didn’t want to help any rich and stuck-up assholes tonight, but he knows he can’t say that out loud. Luckily, Subin would be there with him to brighten the mood.

Jin told them to station a table on the end, and you two were happy to be stuck together.

You both watched how quickly the hall filled up, countless demons, monsters, and humans all dressed in the finest of silks and fabrics to impress each other, and it took everything in Hongjoong to not roll his eyes. He believes that they might get stuck in his head if he did so.

But he did what he was told along with Subin, serving any and everyone that approached their tables. He was a bit shocked when some thanked them but wasn’t surprised by the judging looks he did receive.

Hongjoong found himself getting tired fast, having Subin kick his shin once in and while to keep him up. But soon enough, that kick felt like nothing.

“ Hongjoong, wake up! The prince has arrived!” Subin whispered yell as they both turned towards the more oversized doors.

Hongjoong straightened up and had his eyes glued as he finally got his first look at the King and Queen, Seonghwa’s parents. His father gave off a regal aura; His hair flowed down to his mid-back. He was dressed in black, white, and gold. Hongjoong could see some of the finest jewels adorning his neck apart from his attire.

His eyes went to Seonghwa’s mother and she must have been the most elegant woman he has ever seen, dressed in layers of silk and expensive fabrics that flowed around her beautifully. Her beautiful headdress and intricate hairstyle made her shine like an actual jewel.

But then his eyes landed on the prince, and it felt like his breath got caught in his throat. He was adorned in all black, a great contrast to his pale skin and blonde hair. His attire was flowy as well, similar to his mother’s. As he saw them walk past, he noticed embroidery of dragons on the sleeves and along the collar and hem of his clothes.

His eyes followed him as he walked behind his parents, having Subin smack his arm once more to gain his attention once he noticed some guests walk to their table. But no matter how many times Subin had to slap his arm, he found his eyes going back to Seonghwa.

Maybe it’s because admiring the prince’s beauty made him focus enough to stay up now after seeing countless forgettable faces. But then it became something more familiar when he noticed Yeosang heading to the table.

His pants were plain and straightforward and just white in color. He was dressed in this black vest with a high collar. The seams are traced in white trim, and wearing black and gold cuffs on his wrists. This other piece was a fabric matching his shirt and had a white border and some gold.

“ Mr.Kang, I wasn’t expecting you to come by,” Subin said with a smile, and Hongjoong watched the corners of Yeosang’s lips curve upwards.

“ It’s good to see you as well, Subin.” Yeosang turned his head to look at Hongjoong, and he noticed a slight change in his gaze, “ Nice to see you too, Hongjoong.”

“Anything that you would like?” Hongjoong asked him as Yeosang’s eyes scanned over the array of foods, leaning over to look at it all before standing up once more.

“ I’ll come back later since I’m not quite hungry yet. I plan on seeing you two later then, so make sure you two enjoy yourselves later on.” Yeosang told them before heading off just as quickly as he arrived.

Subin was distracted for a split second when another guest missed the quick change in Yeosang’s face. His eyes narrowed, a frown on his lips before turning his head once more to head back to Seonghwa.

Hongjoong found it odd. He knew the advisor wasn’t fond of him and would prefer if he was dead, but the look in his eyes this time seemed more intense than before.

He just pushed it to the back of his head before he felt Subin smack his arm once more, this time to get his attention as Jin arrived. “

“ You both are done for now. Eat and relax. Just don’t cause any trouble for me, or I’ll have your head. “ He threatened before pushing both of them away, Hongjoong laughing a bit.

“ Now you know you would mourn my death. I’m quite fun to be around.” Hongjoong joked as Jin kicked his ankle as they both stumbled away laughing.

Hongjoong and Subin had made their way to some of the other workers that were switched out to eat. It was away from the more high-status guests, but Hongjoong preferred that.

He has fun and enjoys his time with them. Maybe it’s because this was something that he wished he could have back in his hometown with Ava. Perhaps he’ll get some money and get her to visit.

He knows that’s not a realistic plan, but he could dream.

“ Did he zone out? Oi Hongjoong!”

Hongjoong looked up and realized that Eric, one of the other coworkers that he has made friends with, was calling him. “Hm? What is it?”

“Did you hear anything that I just said?” The younger asked and Hongjoong gave a sheepish laugh before saying no. The boy rolled his eyes before giving him a look.

“ I said that soon with have to go from table to table and collect and dishes and trash from them,” Eric explained, and Hongjoong couldn’t stop the look that appeared on his face.

“ Why can’t they get rid of their trash?” The words flew from his lips quicker than necessary.

“ Look, it's a party for the rich and they are all guests of the family. They aren’t supposed to lift a finger for anything as trivial as cleaning up after themselves.” Eric says sarcastically, a grin on his face as he ate more food, “ You knew what you were getting into when hired here, Hongjoong, so don’t get stupid now.”

“ Aren’t I older than you? Who are you calling stupid?” Hongjoong brow raised and gave him a look that Eric wasn’t fazed by.

“ If you know you aren’t stupid, don’t get offended by it. But seriously, Jin or someone higher up will have your head if you're disrespectful to them. So even if they do something, bite your tongue.” Eric gives him an honest look and Hongjoong huffed.

Subin pats his shoulder, “ It should be fast since most of us are doing that, so don’t worry too much. Okay.” Subin gave a dimpled smile and Hongjoong let out a small smile of his own.

He enjoys this. Bickering and smiling with each other felt very on end and it’s a bit bittersweet that it’s with people that he just met and not his parents. Well, with his mother, yes, but it would be nice if his father were included in that as well.

Before he knew it, they were all splitting up which tables they were going to and grabbed some carts before heading off.

Hongjoong took a deep breath before putting on a fake smile and approached the first table. His greeting was friendly and respectful as he asked if anyone was done with their plates. Some raised their hands and he came over and collected everything that they were finished with. He made sure not to make eye contact with them despite a few leering into the side of his head.

Hongjoong was quick to bow before leaving and dropping his smile the moment he was gone. He nearly mumbled something under his breath before remembering that no humans were sitting at these tables.

So Hongjoong continued this pattern with a fake smile, cleaning and leaving until he reached this last table. He could tell that he was an elf by the pointed ears, and the man was sitting there all alone.

“Excuse me, sir, but are you finished with your food? I'm here to collect your dirty dishes if so.”

The man tilted his head up and gave a light smile, “ Don’t your cheeks hurt from smiling like that? I gave you no reason to smile and neither did those other snot-nosed nobles. Relax and treat me like normal.”

“ I’m sorry, but I-”

“ I may be a royal, but I'm nobody to them. I would rather be treated regularly than a noble,” He turned in his seat before putting his dirty plate on himself as Hongjoong just stared at him, “ I didn’t catch your name. What is it?”

He shook his head as he looked at him, “ my name is Hongjoong.”

“ Hongjoong. That’s a different name, but I like it. I’m Prince Gerold, but I don’t need any formalities. Gerold is just fine.”

“ How could you tell that my smile was fake?” Hongjoong asked, stepping a bit closer to the man.

“ Cause you gave the same type of smiles that I do.” He rested his head in his hand as he glanced back to Hongjoong, “ Please sit, or you can’t waste any time chit-chatting with me?”

“ Well, I’m not supposed to do anything that would upset the ‘royals,’ but since I’m not upsetting you, it should be fine.” Hongjoong watched the smile grow a bit bigger on his face.

“ Well, then let’s sit and chat only for a little while. Maybe this event won’t be as boring as anticipated.”

༄༄༄

Seonghwa was tired.

He was ready to call it a night the moment he stepped into the grand room. But of course, being the son of the current king kept him occupied and busy.

He had to answer to some neighboring townships as well, as they praised him with cheers about what a great king he’ll be, and by the gods, was Seonghwa tired of the repetition.

There were questions on what he would do once his father steps down and how many children of his own he plans to have or if he has selected a queen.

Soon to Seonghwa ear’s, their voices became inaudible and would only pick up a few words that would remind him of what the bloody hell they were talking about.

While some of the guests started to talk to themselves, Seonghwa’s eyes swelled across the crowd as he was quick to stop once he saw a familiar brown hair at a table.

He watched him talk to one of the nobles. It didn’t seem like it was anything terrible because Hongjoong looked utterly relaxed.

But the more he stared, the more he realized that he looked a tad bit too relaxed.

He was able to see how close they were to each other as they talked about whatever. He could see the other person putting his arm on the back of Hongjoong’s chair and give a grin.

He couldn’t read their lips, but he did know that something had made Hongjoong laugh, and the smile was genuine. It made his heart jump a tad bit before remembering that it wasn’t directed towards him. It was someone that he just met and made him smile big like that.

Fascinating.

“ Prince Seonghwa?”

Seonghwa turned back to look at the guests in front of him, “ Yes, what is it?”

They pointed to the glass in his hand, and his eyes followed suit and noticed how tight his grip was on the glass. It caught him off guard cause he never saw his grip tightening. He placed the tall glass down on the table.

“ Are you okay, Prince Seonghwa? Did we say something to upset you?” Seonghwa could see the concern on their face and he snapped out of the slight haze he was in.

“No, it wasn’t you. However, I do have some business that I need to handle. Please enjoy this event to the fullest.” The prince gave a slight bow and smiled before quickly heading off, his feet with a mind of his own.

༄༄༄

Maybe nobles weren’t all too bad.

Hongjoong knew he was supposed to be working, but he couldn’t find himself getting up and ending this conversation. Prince Gerold had a charm about him that just made him stay. Maybe it’s because he was somewhat of an outcast among the nobles and he just seems a bit more humble in a sense.

He found himself smiling and laughing as they talked, not noticing how close the man had gotten or how friendly they would look to any guests. He was just hoping that he wouldn’t get into too much trouble.

“ Hongjoong, can I asked you something?” Prince Gerold tilted his head as he looked at him.

“ Of course. What is it?”

“ Would you like to leave this party? It’s not quite as interesting as you.” Prince Gerold grinned.

Hongjoong wasn’t expecting him to ask such a question. He wouldn’t mind being with him a bit longer, but he knows very well that if he leaves after all this, he might get killed by Jin. or even worse. Get killed by Yeosang.

“ Oh, I don’t think I can. I’m supposed to be working right now, to begin with, so if I leave, I’ll get in tro-” Hongjoong breath hitched when he was pulled a bit closer to him by his chair, catching him off guard.

“ Come on~ We could walk through the city or the gardens and just have a good time. You don’t wanna spend that time with me?” Prince Gerold’s smile was sweet, but maybe it felt a little too sweet that made Hongjoong want to leave, but he couldn’t. It felt like his legs were made of steel.

“ B-but I have to-”

“ I thought we were having fun together. Just for a little bit. I promise to bring you back before this shit of a party is.” Prince Gerold grabbed his hand gently, a complete opposite from the tone, despite being laced with sweet words. His thumb rubbed over his knuckles before bringing his hand to his mouth. He placed tender kisses on each one. Hongjoong wanted to pull his arm away, walk away and deal with all forms of scolding from Subin and Jin, then stay here. Even though he thought that he couldn’t move. Was it fear? Was he scared again? He just wanted to leave.

“Let’s go. I’ll sneak you out to avoid any trouble.”

“Well, it’s a bit too late for that now, is it?” Hongjoong watched how quickly his eyes looked up and passed him, and despite still not being able to move, he knew who was behind him. He knew that voice well enough.

“Ah, Prince Seonghwa. A great party you have here. Not my cup of tea, though, so I planned to leave here with this lovely muse, so if you don’t mind.” Prince Gerold stood up, still holding Hongjoong’s hand. He wasn’t expecting to stand up with such ease when he struggled to do it with his willpower. Hongjoong finally glanced over at Seonghwa as Prince Gerold tries to walk past him.

Hongjoong felt his shoulder get gripped on, and it felt like lightning struck him the moment the elf prince touched him. It made his ears ring, then his spine tingled, and his toes curl before he was finally able to pull his arm away. He faced Seonghwa in shock, but his gaze was rigid set on the other prince in front of him.

“ You went out of your way to compel him? You lured him in with such a fake smile and tried to snatch him off somewhere else. Truly pathetic.” Seonghwa's voice was cold, and he enjoyed the way his lip twitched as he spoke to him, “ You have some nerve bothering my workers.”

“ Now you're saying that as if you care about all of your workers.” He smirks as he crossed his arms.

“ Why wouldn’t I? Their hard work made this event as successful as it is. I owe them all some proper gratitude for their efforts, and it’s just a shame that they still have to deal with something as rotten as you.” Seonghwa stepped forward, right in front of Hongjoong and gave him such a cold glare that made the smirk fall from his face and replaced with a scowl.

“ You watch who you're talking to!” He growled out and Seonghwa laughed in his face.

“ Oh, and what would you do? Did you forget that part of the land that your father owns was a gracious gift from us? Did you forget how much we helped you and your father get to where you are? We hand-fed you everything, and it would be just as easy to make you starve. Be foolish enough to doubt my bluff, and I will personally ruin you. You need us. We don’t need you.” Seonghwa’s aura crackled, and it made the other Prince step back even more from them.

“All of this fuss and threats over one of the hundreds of workers?!”

“ For your information, I hand-picked this one, so yes. Now I suggest you leave like previously intended,” Seonghwa grabbed Hongjoong’s rest and started to walk away. Hongjoong turned around to at him before Seonghwa’s voice cut through the air, “ Don’t look at him.”

Seonghwa walked fast and scouted the area before stepping up to Subin and tapping his shoulder. Subin turned around and nearly dropped the plates he had in his hands. “ Prince Seonghwa! W-what can I do for you?”

“ Take care of the rest of Hongjoong’s work if you don’t mind. I need him for something else more important.” It was then that Subin noticed Hongjoong behind him, and it looked like Subin was trying to get a sense from him about what happened, but Hongjoong sheepishly looked away.

“ Of course! I’ll get right on it.” Subin bows before heading past them and Seonghwa continues to pull Hongjoong out and out the doors, not going unnoticed by the prince’s advisors as he gives a sharp gaze with furrowed brows.

Once Hongjoong believes that they were far enough from anyone, he spoke up, “ Seonghwa, where are we going?….”

“ Just wait. We're almost there.” Seonghwa gave a short response as he guided them through halls that Hongjoong had never been down before; he opened a door and pulled them both inside before shutting the door. That’s when Seonghwa finally let go of his wrist and slumped against the door.

Hongjoong watched how the prince’s back and shoulders slouched before looking up at him. “ Are you okay?”

Seonghwa made a small smile, “ I should be asking you that. A nonhuman just compelled you. The longer you stayed there, the more control he would have had on you.”

Hongjoong looked at his hands and legs, moving them slightly, “ I thought it was fear again. I thought I was that scared and couldn’t move. Not because of magic.”

Hongjoong missed the soft look he gave him as he stayed by the door, “ No. It was magic that a good variety of nonhumans know. If you can use magic or have any items to help you comply, it is quite easy to do. Humans usually fall prey to it naturally. Folks of magic sense other magic, so it would never have worked.”

Hongjoong gave a tiny smile, “ That’s good to know, but that just reminds me of how much weaker I am to everything.”

Seonghwa pushed himself off the door and stood in front of him, “Humans can learn magic too if they practice hard enough. The only way you can stop being weak is if you put the time and effort into being strong. You don’t just need to be physically stronger to beat someone. There are other ways, and I'm sure you would be capable of it.”

Hongjoong looked up at his eyes and let out a laugh, “ Who would have thought that your words would give me some comfort,” Hongjoong rubbed the back up his neck and stared at the ground, “ Thank you.”

“ There’s no need to thank me.”

“ Yes, there is. I found myself in some trouble and I was lucky enough that you were there to help me. I’m sorry for causing trouble and making you leave the party. I’ll—I’ll take whatever lecture or punishment for everything.” Hongjoong stared at his hands.

It could have gone a completely different way and Hongjoong didn’t even want to think what would happen if no one came over to stop him.

“ I was forced to attend this party. I’m the next in line to the throne, so of course, I had to be there. I would have rather hid than talked the same nonsense with all of those guests. And did you think I dragged you all the way here just to lecture you?” Seonghwa raised a brow as he gave him an amused look.

Hongjoong looked back with a confused look, “ Then why did you drag me here? Was it just a chance for you to get away from this event?”

Seonghwa walked past him and headed towards the window, the moon illuminating his skin in hair and almost making him glow, “ Maybe you do have some magic because I don’t know why, but you have been compelling me all on your own.”

Hongjoong slowly walked towards him but kept some distance, “ What does that even mean? Whatever you have to say, just say it.”

Seonghwa never turned around, “ I’ve developed some feelings for you.”

It was silent. No sound was made as they both stood in the same spot. Seonghwa expected this type of reaction and silence, so it took the silence to elaborate more.

“ I don’t know when it started, but I can be honest enough to say that I have developed some type of feelings for you. Maybe it started when I watched how caring and nurturing you were with Estal and Elva and how much they genuinely adored you. I was worried about you manipulating them, but they seem smitten with you. Most people don’t like them because of their mother, but they’re innocent in that matter.”

Hongjoong quietly walked over as Seonghwa continued to talk, just listening to the words that came out of his mouth.

“ Then I started to notice the little reactions and thoughts I would have about you. I didn’t think I could do it after stopping the last time I had feelings for someone. But then you came along, stealing from me in broad daylight and slowly stealing away my heart before I even knew it.” Seonghwa turned slightly to see Hongjoong just a couple of inches behind him.

The prince turned to face him, “ I came over there not because I knew you were in danger. I originally came over there cause my heart couldn’t stand the image of you smiling at someone else. I nearly shattered a glass when it ran through my mind. Like I couldn’t allow it and that’s out of character for me.”

Seonghwa could sense it. His honesty was overwhelming Hongjoong and that’s not what he wanted at all. He could feel and see how tense he was as he stood there.

“ I’m not asking you to recuperate my feelings. I threatened you into staying here and I can’t blame you for hating me. I…I just wanted to get these words off my chest. Don’t feel inclined to return them. You have my word on that.”

Hongjoong finally looked up at him, “ I don’t hate you.”

“ You don’t?”

“ I don’t. Everything you did was logical, especially after what I’ve done. I just don’t know how to take someone saying they ‘care’ for me.” Hongjoong walked towards the window, looking out at the moon-casted town as Seonghwa watched him.

“ Did you not come from a loving home?” Seonghwa asked as he saw Hongjoong frowned at first before giving a smile.

Hongjoong pressed his hand to the glass, “ In the end, my mother cared the most about just one other person and me. So in a sense, yes, I did. But I’ve never had someone admit having feelings for me. I just don’t know how to respond.”

“You don’t have to. That’s what I’m trying to tell you.” Seonghwa gently placed a hand on his shoulder and was happy that he didn’t tense up from it.

“ You sure?”

“ I swear on it.”

Hongjoong turned around to face him. They both stared down at each other, but Seonghwa’s eyes glanced down to his lips before forcing himself to look away, “ What is it?”

Seonghwa shook his head, “ I don’t want to ask that of you. I can’t ask that from you.” He was speaking more to himself and was about to ramble until Hongjoong gripped his chin and made him look back at him.

“ What did you want to ask me?” Hongjoong’s voice was as firm as it could be as he looked up into those ocean eyes of his.

Seonghwa stares for a while longer before letting out a sigh, “ Can I kiss you?”

Hongjoong was hesitant as he twiddled with his thumbs, “ I haven’t kissed anyone before...”

“ Then maybe you shouldn’t waste that on me. I just wanted to ask.” Seonghwa turned around and started heading towards the door, “ You can stay here until the party ends. I must head back to-”

“ It wouldn’t be a waste….” Hongjoong shifted on his heels

Seonghwa stopped, “ That’s not a yes. I’m no creep. I won’t do anything to you unless you give me a solid yes.”

“ That’s embarrassing for me to say!”

“ Embarrassing to want consent?” Seonghwa raised a blonde brow and Hongjoong grew quiet. He took the silence as an answer and as his hand reached the doorknob.

“Please!”

Seonghwa looked back at the man and noticed the faint blush on his face.

“ You...you can kiss me.”

Hongjoong listens to Seonghwa’s footsteps as he walked towards him again. “ Look at me.” He heard Seonghwa’s voice as he slowly looked up at him. “ Are you sure about this?”

Hongjoong hasn’t felt this nervous before. He wasn’t being pressured into anything. He had complete and utter control of this situation, and as much as he was worried about this, he found himself wanting it as well. “ I am, but you might have to guide me.”

Seonghwa gently tilts his face up and Hongjoong’s eyes looked up at him, “ You can tell me to stop at any time.”

Hongjoong nodded as Seonghwa slowly closed the distance between them. His eyes fluttered close when he felt his breath against his lips. He knew he could probably hear his heart pound. Seonghwa stroked his cheek with his thumb as his lips pressed to his.

His lips were soft against his. Hongjoong felt himself relax as Seonghwa pulled back slightly, opening his own eyes, and found Seonghwa staring back at him. They were quiet as they looked back at each other before Hongjoong leaned forward and Seonghwa leaned back in to kiss him again.

Seonghwa moved his lips slowly, so Hongjoong could learn how to kiss. Hongjoong tried his best to follow him, steadily getting better as Seonghwa cupped his face. Hongjoong found himself slowly reaching up to grip his shoulders. He relaxed more as he started to kiss him with a bit more force, catching Seonghwa off guard a bit.

He pulled away to look at Hongjoong, panting a bit as before speaking, “ Maybe...that’s enough for now.”

“ B-but…”

“ I’m afraid that I’ll do something more if we keep going, so let’s not continue this.” Seonghwa put some more space in between the two.

“ I want to keep going, though.” Hongjoong found a small amount of confidence as he looked at him and Seonghwa gave him an unreadable look.

“ Don’t say something like that to me. I’m trying to have some self-control. Don’t do this because of me admitting my feelings. What you're doing is more than enough. Don’t feel pressured to do anything with me.” Seonghwa's voice was harsh sounding, but Hongjoong wasn’t offended by it.

“ I’m not asking you to have self-control. I want more too. I’m not pressured. I feel comfortable and relaxed right now. I have the confidence right now to say this out loud, so don’t let it go to waste.” Hongjoong stared at him with flushed cheeks before slowly walking to the bed and sitting on it, “ I’ll tell you to stop if I have to. Just make sure your self-control is as good as you say it is.”

Seonghwa gave him a look before walking to him, standing in front of him, slowly pushing his body down on the bed and hovering above. Seonghwa could see how relaxed he was and could sense how confident he was in his choices right now. He feels hesitant, despite Hongjoong giving him all the consent he would need. His fingers flexed beside his head, and now he felt his heart pound. It was only when Hongjoong gently grabbed his wrist, forcing him to look at him.

“ It’s alright. I told you it’s okay. Don’t chicken out on me now, or I’ll feel silly about all this.” Hongjoong gave him an awkward chuckle as he reached to cup his face and brings him closer to him.

Seonghwa closed his eyes for a split second before looking back at him with a soft smile, “ Don’t go regretting this in the morning, Kim Hongjoong.”

༄༄༄

Tagging: @atiny-piratequeen @gettin-a-lil-hanse @queen-of-himbos @jacksons-goddess-gaia @kimnamshiks

༄༄༄

©atiny-dazzlinglight 2021. do not repost, translate, or use my works without permission

#kdiarynet #8makes1teamnet #kpopficsnetwork #dee writes #red strings of fate #RSF CH.3 #ateez fic #ateez fanfic #ateez ot8 fic #hongjoong oneshot #seonghwa oneshot #yunho oneshot #yeosang oneshot #san oneshot #mingi oneshot #wooyoung oneshot #jongho oneshot #ateez oneshot

[kerikaaria]

Smile

(Hoseok x gn!Reader) Oneshot, Coffee shop!au

Genre: (PG13) Hurt/comfort, fluff, angst

WC: 4.6k

Warnings: None, unless you count a stereotypical Kdrama trope or two offensive haha

Summary: At 28 years old, you suddenly felt like your life was resetting. One of the few things that brought you comfort was keeping the routine of stopping by the local coffee shop, and the barista behind the counter had definitely noticed the recent change in you. All he wanted was to see you smile again.

Breath of Sunshine is a sequel to this fic. 

A/N – This fic is my submission for the January prompt with @thebtswritersclub for Beginnings/New Beginnings.

I'm a horrendous human being and absolutely forgot to tag @moccahobi for beta reading this fic for me! Thank you for your suggestions Lillia! And please excuse me being big dumb lol. I love yoouuu!

Pushing the door open, the familiar jingle of the bell sounded and warmth started to envelope your chilled body.

"Good afternoon, Y/n," the barista said as he made another customer's drink, pausing for a moment to throw a smile in your direction.

"Good afternoon, Hoseok," you replied, attempting to smile in return but could feel how stiff and forced it was.

He quickly finished the drink he had been working on, properly saying goodbye to the customer as he always did. He grabbed a new cup as he asked, “Are you having the usual?”

“Yes, please,” you said.

Hoseok gave you another smile before getting your drink started while you approached the register. You got your payment out, ready to go as he approached the counter. After swiping your card, you watched as he resumed making your drink. Hoseok had been working here for at least as long as you had been a regular customer and it was obvious he knew what he was doing.

"The weather isn't that bad today," Hoseok made small talk while he finished putting your drink together.

"Yeah, it's not quite as cold as the rest of the week had been,” you responded. If this were a month ago, you would have continued back and forth, encouraging conversation between the two of you. You could only just muster up enough energy to respond right now, much less continue a conversation.

Especially not today.

Preferring to stare at the counter rather than make eye contact, you didn’t notice the worried glance Hoseok threw your way. He had definitely recognized the change in your demeanor over the past weeks. He really missed your smile—the real one and not the forced one that sat on your face nowadays.

When he finished your drink and handed it to you, you attempted a smile once more as you thanked him before sitting at one of the tables in the café to relax.

It was a Saturday and you had a standard Monday to Friday job so you didn’t have anything to do today. But this was one of your favorite places to go, and after all the changes that happened the past month you needed a familiar routine to help keep you feeling sane.

One of the few comforts that came with moving back to your childhood home was that this coffee shop was within walking distance again. When you had moved away over a year ago, you would have to leave for work sooner to catch an earlier bus, getting off only to stop here before getting back on to finish going to work. You adored this quaint little shop and the bright faces behind the counter and didn’t want to sacrifice your patronage just because you had moved.

So needless to say, your weekend visits had stopped at that point since there was no need to catch the bus then. But now that you were back here, you had resumed your Saturday morning walks which led you here. Even though it was winter, you found the crisp air refreshing and found it easy to let your troubles escape your mind during the 20 minute venture.

You sat by a window, mindlessly watching the cars drive down the street. You had made a fair amount of progress this month, but today was particularly difficult. It was January 23, what would have been your 6 year anniversary. That wasn’t a thing anymore, of course.

At 28 years old, you suddenly felt like your life was resetting. Things that you wanted in life that had seemed so close to coming into fruition merely a month ago suddenly felt so far away, you weren’t sure they were possible anymore.

As you let your mind wander, you were unsure how much time had passed. Your drink sat empty in front of you for a while, but you didn’t feel ready to leave just yet. When you got back home you’d be reminded of how different things were now, and that wasn’t something you were looking forward to today.

Suddenly, your attention was drawn to a new cup being placed on your table. You turned to see Hoseok standing next to the table, smiling brightly as ever.

“It’s a good day for a drink like this, don’t you think?” he asked.

“I didn’t order this,” was the only thing that could escape your mouth. He was definitely known for throwing in a free drink here and there, but you most certainly didn’t want to take advantage of it.

“It’s my treat,” he insisted, “I’m actually done with my shift. Do you mind if I sit here with you?”

You glanced back at the bar, and sure enough Namjoon was now manning the station while the owner, Seokjin, took orders from the customers in line.

Looking back to Hoseok who had been waiting patiently for your response, you decide to give a nod.

He sat across from you, taking a sip from his own drink that he had no doubt made himself. A silence hung between you but it wasn't uncomfortable. Hoseok never made you feel uncomfortable. When you reached for the new cup and realized what drink he had made you, it only reminded you of how kind he was. 

It wasn't your usual, but was something you had most definitely ordered here before. You could still remember the first day you had ordered this particular drink.

Hoseok looked at you, amused. "Not getting the usual today, then?"

"No, not today," you confirmed. "I really need this today."

"Oh?" he asked as he rang it into the register. "Is it some kind of special occasion thing? I know some people do that."

"Not exactly," you said, handing him your card. "It's more of a comfort drink."

Hoseok hesitated to swipe your card through the reader. "Oh. Not having a great day?" A frown sat on his face.

"You could say that," you sighed.

He looked to be in thought for a moment before he handed your card back to you and moved away to start on your drink.

Your brows furrowed. "You didn't swipe my card, did you?"

"It's on me today."

"You don't have to do that," you said, staying parked at the register.

Hoseok hadn't said anything else while he whipped up the drink. When he brought it over to you, you tried making him take your card one more time, but he just shook his head.

"I don't like seeing my customers upset," he said. "It's not much, but I want to do anything I can to try to make your day at least a little brighter. Please, I insist."

The smile on his face and earnest look in his eyes made you pause, before ultimately accepting his kind offer.

His smile grew even bigger when he watched you put your card away and take the drink he offered you. It was a size larger than what you had ordered.

"Thank you, Hoseok," you said. You were still unsure about taking a drink for free, but definitely were in no way going to leave without showing him some gratitude.

Holding the cup of hot chocolate between your hands made you feel warm in more ways than one. He was telling you that he noticed you weren't as happy as usual and he even remembered the significance of the drink to you.

Knowing that someone cared, even a little, was something you really needed these days and, though a little silly, it almost made you want to cry. You held it back though, offering a smile to the man sitting across from you. It was small, but still genuine.

You waited for the inevitable question of what was wrong. The sweet gesture of the hot chocolate made you feel like you may not actually mind if he asked, despite having been tired of explaining what happened 50 times over already. Just as long as he wouldn't start asking you the loaded, 'How are you?' which translated to 'How are you after him?'

He didn't ask. Instead he said, "You know, I was really relieved when I saw it was you who came in earlier."

You looked at him curiously. "Why is that?"

"That customer that was here when you walked in? He's a real charmer." He was clearly being sarcastic. "The guy wants like 10 very specific customizations to his latte, and was backseat driving the whole time I made his drink. Despite the fact that he's a regular and I know his order to the T by this point. But nope, he can never let me just handle making the drink in peace. It's so annoying."

"Oh gosh, that does sound super annoying," you replied. A pretty generic reply sure, but you already felt more engaged in this conversation than you had in most others recently.

"But then customers like you come in and you're always so kind and friendly," Hoseok continued. "Even if the day hadn't been that great, it always feels a little better when you come in. You're definitely one of our favorite regulars. It's also nice now that I've noticed you're coming in on the weekends again."

"Oh yeah, I moved back into my last house," you explained. "So I can just walk here again."

"And out of all the things you could be doing on the weekend, you choose to hang out here in this tiny little place."

You took the first sip of your hot chocolate while Hoseok spoke. It may have been basically just hot milk and chocolate, but it was really delicious. You closed your eyes for a moment to savor the flavor before answering him. “I really like it here. It’s nice and cozy, the drinks are amazing and not super expensive, and you guys are all really nice.”

“It’s hard not to be when we have wonderful customers like you,” Hoseok said.

The compliment made you feel flustered and on top of feeling relaxed and warm from the drink, you found a genuine smile that reached your eyes spread across your face.

You felt that out of all the good qualities of this coffee shop, Hoseok was definitely the most comforting thing here.

After that day, you began to have longer conversations with the barista. It wasn’t that you didn’t chat before, but him taking the time to sit and talk with you seemed to have opened up a door to a deeper friendship between you. While coming to the coffee shop had always been one of your favorite parts of the day, it started to become something you looked forward to even more than before.

You even found yourself leaving your house a bit earlier than before just to make sure you had some time to sit and chat with him for an extra little bit before needing to make your way to work. Your encounters were limited to the shop, not having met outside of the café or exchanged phone numbers yet. Despite that, you felt like your interactions were some of the most genuine you had lately.

As for Hoseok, he could see the gradual change in you. While he had no idea what had suddenly made you so upset back in December, he knew it had to be pretty substantial with how long you’ve been affected. He never wanted to ask though. He figured if you wanted to talk to him about it you would, and he would of course listen.

That being said, ever since he decided to sit down and chat with you, he felt like you’ve slowly started becoming more like yourself—more like the Y/n he remembered. He couldn’t say for sure, but he dared to hope that maybe it had something to do with him.

So the weeks went by, most days highlighted by Hoseok’s smiling face as you started going to the cafe more. On Saturdays it basically became a routine for you to arrive shortly before he’d be done with his shift, and then he’d once again sit and chat with you when it was over.

Saturdays quickly became your favorite day of the week.

You were trying to figure out how to nonchalantly ask Hoseok if you could exchange phone numbers, or meet up outside of the café, or something. And really, it shouldn’t have been hard. Easy to slip in a ‘Hey, can I text you?' or ‘Let’s hang out sometime,’ during a chat and it would have been natural. But you felt oddly nervous about asking.

What if he didn’t want that? What if he just wanted your little budding friendship to stay as a thing just at the café? What if you were reading too far into it and he was just a nice barista chatting with his customer to make them happy? Knowing you, you very well could have been reading into it too much. Even though you really, really hoped you weren’t.

You walked down the sidewalk heading home from the bus stop after work when your phone rang.

You didn’t bat an eye when it was his name that came up on the caller ID. It wasn’t frequent but also not entirely unusual for him to contact you. His calls often had something to do with tying up loose ends, or he was just wanting to chat. Afterall, you both had agreed to remain friends after the breakup. But it was still a bit awkward, both of you needing a bit more time to come to terms with all the changes that were occurring in the aftermath and, at least for you, figuring out how to move on still.

You picked up easily, swiping the green button across the screen and putting it back in your pocket, earbuds in your ears to listen and talk through. The call was absolutely standard, him needing someone to talk to in his boredom. Usually it wouldn’t bother you, but he was having one of his moments where he didn’t realize he talked about something he really probably shouldn’t have.

He started mentioning how he’d finally gotten used to you not being around. That it was normal now.

You knew why he was telling you. The changes were hard on him as well, to the point where he couldn’t sleep in the house after you moved out and he realized just how lonely it felt with no one there. So he was telling you because he wanted you to know that he was doing better.

But at the same time, when you were still in the process of getting used to not having him around, it hurt to hear. You had been having far more good—or at least better—days than bad ones lately, but you could feel your heart rip a bit as he talked. You tried not to let him hear it in your voice when the tears started. As soon as you could, you ended the conversation, making up some excuse that you couldn’t really recall but it seemed to work well enough for him and he ended the call.

You couldn’t stop the tears from continuously falling, and you felt so stupid for crying in public like that. The street was a more residential one and not very busy so there were few people around, but you felt as though anyone nearby would instantly have their eyes on you and be judging you.

You stopped at a corner to cross the street, looking both ways before starting on your way. Your gaze was glued to the ground, trying to keep your head down as much as you could to try to keep others from seeing how stupid you must have looked.

It all happened so quickly that you had no time to register what was going on. You saw a car approaching out of the corner of your eye, looking up to see it very close and going dangerously fast. And then you felt a tug, someone grabbing your arm and quickly pulling you the rest of the way to the sidewalk, making you stumble in your step.

You felt the wind from the car passing so closely behind you just a second later. The reality of how close you had been to getting flattened suddenly hit you. Still in the grip of this person who had pulled you out of harm’s way, you started shaking from the shock of it.

“Y/n, are you okay?” a very familiar voice asked, just loud enough for you to hear him past the music in your earbuds.

You quickly looked up to see Hoseok standing there, eyes wide as looked over you, seemingly looking for any injuries. When you didn’t respond, he called your name again.

You shakily nodded. “Y-yeah, I’m- I’m okay,” you managed to get out, pulling the devices from your ears to hear better.

“That jackass,” Hoseok mumbled. “He just came speeding out of nowhere. What the heck did he think he was doing?”

Feeling like it was difficult to keep steady, you let yourself lean into Hoseok for support. He instantly responded by wrapping a strong arm around your shoulders and tucking your head into his chest with his other hand.

“It’s okay, Y/n. You’re okay. You didn’t get hurt, you’re okay,” he calmly said, rocking you just slightly in an attempt to help you calm down.

The two of you stayed like that for a few minutes, until you felt your composure return and straightened up a bit, pulling away from Hoseok’s comfort.

“You feeling alright?” he asked, eyes still filled with concern.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” you said. “Thank you for saving me, Hoseok.”

“It’s lucky that I even noticed you across the street earlier,” he said. “I don’t want you to think you did something wrong because you really didn’t, but you should really try to pay more attention when you’re crossing the street.”

“Yeah, I really wasn’t paying attention,” you admitted. “I just- I mean I looked both ways first but I’m just not feeling the best and-”

“It’s okay,” Hoseok said. “You don’t need to explain to me. I can see something is upsetting you. I’m just glad that I was here.”

You nodded, a short silence sitting between you.

“Where are you headed?” Hoseok was the next to speak.

“I’m just going home,” you said.

“Let me walk you?” he asked.

“You don’t have somewhere to be?”

“I was just heading home too. I stayed late at the café because Joon was on a date. So no, I have nowhere to be. Can I walk you home? You still seem a bit shocked.”

You contemplated his offer, still feeling a bit shaken up from what just happened. Plus, after the phone call you just had, you could really use some company. “Okay, yeah I’d appreciate that. Thank you.”

He stepped to the side, waiting for you to start walking in the right direction before falling in step next to you.

“I was just on the phone with my ex,” you blurted out.

Hoseok’s gaze snapped to you, but you continued looking forward. He remained silent, knowing you had more to say.

“You know the boyfriend I’d mention before?” you asked, sure that he’d remember since you talked about him quite a bit. He was such a huge part of your life. “He broke up with me back in December. On the 21st.”

Hoseok was silent for a moment before he softly asked, “You guys were together for quite a while weren’t you?”

You nodded. “January 23rd would have been 6 years.”

“That’s why you moved back here?” he asked. “You two moved in together about a year ago right?”

“Yeah, a year and three months at the time that we broke up. I’m just lucky that I still had this place to come back to,” you said.

“Did he say something to hurt you?” Hoseok asked. “On the phone just now, I mean.”

You shook your head. “Not intentionally. He just doesn’t always realize when something is inappropriate or hurtful to say.” You chuckle. “He was always kind of bad at knowing social queues. He didn’t realize that telling me how it’s gotten easy for him without me around would be hurtful for me to hear.”

Hoseok didn’t know what to say, so he waited to see if you had anything else you wanted to tell him.

“It’s really hard. I had really thought he was it, you know?” you said, a sad smile sitting on your face. “But now that we’re not together, even though it’s been hard and I’m still figuring out how to be my own person by myself again, I’m realizing that maybe this really was for the better. He told me he just felt like I was his really good friend more than anything else now, and he clearly hadn’t wanted to work on things between us so there was no way we could last at that point. I am not feeling hopeful about being able to find someone else quite yet, but if I ever do I hope that they’re someone who can understand me better.

“I was by no means unhappy with him, except the issues we started to have last year that I felt like we could work through at the time. But we had different love languages. I wanted things from him that I more or less had to flat out tell him and he’d try but even then he wasn’t always putting his heart into it because it wasn’t really natural for him. I understood it, it wasn’t a huge thing. Just things like that, that were never a huge deal at all, but I realize that I really hope I can find in someone else, you know?”

Hoseok nodded along, understanding what you meant. He had been with more than one partner who was uncomfortable with how he expressed his feelings as well. While they had been much less understanding and accepting than you seemed to have been with your ex, or that he even had done for you.

“It’s just… It’s so many changes all at once,” you said. “I usually question everything. I expect people to not stick around, and wonder if people really want to be around me. But with him, I never really thought that. When I’d think of our potential future, I always thought ‘when,’ not ‘if.’ But now it’s become ‘never.’ At least with him. And it’s still hard to wrap my head around. But I have been doing a lot better. I remember you saying once before that you don’t like your customers to be unhappy and if you can make them feel at least a little better, you want to try. And honestly, you have been a huge help to me lately.”

Hoseok smiled to himself. “I’m happy to help you, Y/n. I know that I can’t help a whole lot, I understand this is all really hard for you, but I do want to be there for you however I can. I promise that the interactions we have, it’s not just me being a barista who is trying to make his customers happy. I did say that yeah, but it genuinely comes from my heart. When you stopped smiling at the end of the year, I immediately noticed. Ever since then, I remember just thinking a lot that I missed seeing your smile and wanted to try to make you smile again.”

“Well, mission accomplished then,” you chuckled. You were silent for a moment while you turned onto your street. “You know, that first day that you sat with me in the café? That was January 23rd. I was feeling worse that day than the others but you really did help me feel better. I completely forgot about what that day had meant while talking to you. And I know what the hot chocolate meant. I can’t tell you how much I appreciated that. Thank you.”

“You make it sound like I’m not going to keep trying to help,” Hoseok said. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily, you know.”

“I wouldn’t want to.” You turned to him, a genuine smile on your face.

He smiled in return. “That’s the Y/n that I’ve wanted to see.”

When you were in front of your house, you stopped, letting Hoseok know you arrived.

“Oh, you live here?” he asked, a little surprised. “Really? This is literally just right down the street from my house.”

“Seriously?” you asked. “Since when?”

“For years. I’ve lived there since before I got the job at the café.”

“How come I never realized you lived that close?”

Hoseok laughed. “I have no idea. But hey, at least we know now, right?”

“Right,” you said. “Well, I don’t want to keep you, even if you do live close by.”

“Can I have your number before I go?” Hoseok asked. When you looked at him with widened eyes, he said, “Only if you want to! I just, I feel like the two of us have gotten pretty close and I’ve been meaning to ask but I just wasn’t sure how to bring it up. I want to be there anytime you need me. If you ever need someone to talk to, I want you to be able to contact me anytime.”

Hoseok’s words warmed you, leaving you speechless for just a moment before you smiled once more. “I’ve been trying to figure out how to ask you the same thing. Yeah, I’d like to give you my phone number.”

Hoseok quickly fumbled to fish his phone from his pocket, unlocking it and handing it to you to enter your number.

“And maybe if you have some time, we could hang out one day?” you asked. “Like, outside of the café. As much as I like it there, I think it’d be nice to be able to chat without you having to worry about attending to customers. Or your nosy coworkers listening into our conversations.”

Hoseok laughed, taking a moment to calm down while you handed his phone back to him. “Yeah. Yeah, I’d really like that.”

You both stood there for a moment, unsure of how to say goodbye. Just as you were turning around to enter your door, Hoseok spoke up once more. “Y/n?”

When you turned back around, you were greeted with a really warm smile.

“I know that it’s hard right now and it’s something that you have to work through on your own,” Hoseok continued. “But try not to think of it as an end. It’s a beginning, a new start. And maybe, it won’t be as hard as you think to find someone who will give you what you’re looking for. I, for one, know someone who would be more than willing to do that for you if you ever let him.”

You felt your heart speed up and cheeks redden at the insinuation.

“But don’t feel pressured,” he continued. “Take your time. Do what you need to heal and when you’re ready, I guarantee he’ll still be here for you. He’s ready to start a new story with you whenever you are, if you want.”

With one last smile, Hoseok waved goodbye and walked up the street. It took you a moment before you gathered yourself and unlocked your door.

He hadn’t said it directly, but you understood what he meant. You couldn’t say that you were ready for anything with someone new right now, but if how you felt around him lately was any indication, you were sure that as long as what he said was true, that he was willing to wait until you were ready, you most certainly would eventually be ready to have that new start with him.

And maybe, just maybe, you put a heart next to his name in your contact list. No one needed to know that though.

Breath of Sunshine is a sequel to this fic.

A/N – This fic is HIGHLY self-indulgent. Last month, on December 21st, my long-time boyfriend had broken up with me. A lot of what Y/n feels in this fic, and what they described about their past relationship are very similar to my own experiences. I’m also uploading this on January 23, 2021, which is rather poetic because, just as in the fic, today would have been my 6th year anniversary with my ex. So yes, this is super self-indulgent and somewhat of a coping mechanism for myself. But I hope that it can be enjoyed by others as well <3.

Also, please don’t feel worried for me or anything. I really do appreciate anyone who offers me support, but I promise that I am doing alright and holding up well. Although I do very much wish it were possible for me to find my own Hobi lol (not right away of course).

Also, if you’d like to donate to my Ko-fi, feel free! Absolutely no pressure though :)

#bts fanfic #bts x reader #jhope x reader #hoseok x reader #jung hoseok x reader #thebtswritersclub #btsbookclub #btswriterscollective #hurt/comfort #fluff #angst #oneshot

[daydreaming-away-reality]

Song of the Siren [Part 8]

Liam Dunbar x Reader | ☁️ + 🌠 + ✨ | 3.2k | Siren!Reader

Based on Season 4, episode 12: Smoke and Mirrors

[ Song of the Siren Masterlist ]

“You two are not going to Mexico,” Sheriff Stilinski firmly stated. 

“Scott and Kira have been kidnapped and been taken to Mexico, okay, I think that’s a pretty good reason for a trip to Mexico.” Stiles countered.

You stood next to your best friend, nodding in agreement. “Going through the legal processes would take too long. We need to get them back as quickly as possible.”

The Sheriff moved around his office, trying to process all this information. “(Y/N), your parents are still out of town, do you think they want you traveling out of the country in this situation?”

“If it were to save my best friend, then yes, they wouldn’t mind.”

Sheriff Stilinski frowned, he knew that you and Stiles were determined, and it was practically impossible to change your minds. It was clear to him that since Deaton had shared his intel on Scott, there was no holding his son or you back.

“Please, you two, give me a little more time to verify something slightly more concrete than a physic vision from some guy with a third eye.”

You exchanged a look with Stiles, knowing that despite these desperate times, his dad was just trying to be logical about this situation.

Both of you knew you were going regardless of what the Sheriff would decide. 

Your phone buzzed and your heartbeat slightly faster at the sight of the name.

Liam.

Pulling at Stiles’s sleeve, you gestured for him to leave the office with you.

“We should talk to the others,” you explained to Sheriff Stilinski. “Let them know what’s up.”

Sheriff Stilinski nodded. “Don’t do anything reckless. That goes for both of you.”

A slight twinge of guilt went through you, but it wasn’t enough to stop the plan in motion.

“I’ll see you at Scott’s?” Stiles asked.

You nodded, then picked up the call as you exited the police station.

“Hi Liam,” you greeted.

“(Y/N), what is going on?” Liam asked, voice filled with worry. 

“Scott and Kira... Deaton told us that they’ve been kidnapped and taken to Mexico.”

“What?”

You slid into the driver’s seat of your car, thinking about what to tell the young beta. He was part of the Scott’s pack, he deserved to know what was going on.

“I’m going to Scott’s place, where should I pick you up?”

Listening to the sound of Stiles and Malia’s footsteps upstairs, you leaned against the dining room table with Liam while waiting for them. Having told everything you knew about the situation with Liam, you were now nervously waiting for Stiles.

You were rarely nervous. 

Liam could tell the moment you two had entered the house. In hopes of calming you down, he took your hand in his, squeezing yours to let you know he was there for you.

“You guys have gone through so much together, you’ll get through this too,” Liam reassured you.

His words brought some peace to you. He was right - you all had survived the Benefactor. The situation now couldn’t be worse than that, hopefully.

“Yeah,” you breathed out. “Thanks, Liam.”

The blue eyed boy smiled at the sound of your heart slowing back down to its regular pace.

When Stiles spotted Liam, he frowned. 

“Liam, go home, you’re not coming with us.”

“Why not?” Liam asked, gripping your hand a little tighter as he stood up.  

“Cause it’s a full moon and I don’t feel like driving all the way down to Mexico just to have you rip my throat out.” 

“But (Y/N) will be with me,” Liam responded.  

“What if she’s not enough?” Stiles asked, eyes moving Liam to over to you.

You could practically feel how determined Liam was to be part of what was happening. Giving his hand a squeeze, you looked at Stiles.

“Maybe there’s something else we can do,” you offered thoughtfully.

“Like what?” Malia asked.

Stiles straightened up as he pulled out his phone. 

“I have an idea.”

Standing in the empty lot with Stiles, Malia and Liam, you watched as Braeden drove in with a van.

“How’d you get a prison transport van?” Stiles asked.

“I’m a US marshal.”

“I thought that was just a cover up.”

Braeden gave Stiles a look, not bothering to correct his assumption.

The sound of another vehicle showing up shifted your attention to Derek and his unexpected companion.

“You’re bringing him?” Derek asked, indicating Liam.

“We’re bringing him?” Stiles asked, pointing at Peter.

“We’re bringing everyone that we can.” Peter responded. “Considering Scott and Kira were taken the night before a full moon, we should probably get going.”

“What’s that mean?” Malia asked, confused.

“If Kate took Scott back to the same temple that she took Derek, how do we know that she won’t do the same thing to him?”

“De-aging Scott?” You frowned. “Kate’s powers need to be pretty unique to get Scott’s powers from when he never had them.”

“We never know,” Peter pointed out. “I think we should all get going.”

“We’re not going without Lydia.” Stiles brought up. He pulled out his cell phone. “I’ll give her a call.”

An ominous feeling passed through you as you stood next to Liam. Deciding not to voice the feeling out loud yet, you turned to Liam.

“Are you okay right now?” you asked.

Liam nodded. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

“Liam, even if you hurt me in any way tonight with the full moon, I want you to know you shouldn’t feel guilty about it,” you said, getting this out now. You knew the new beta had his share of worries, and this one should be the least of his concerns with everything going on.

“But -”

You shook your head, gently brushing your fingers across his cheek.

“You’re still learning control, things will happen,” you firmly added. “It’s okay. As long as nothing bad happens to you, that’s what most important. I promise I’ll do everything I can.”

Liam raised his hand until he captured your hand in his own, cradling his cheek. “Okay. But if I can control it, I don’t want to hurt you. I’d never want to hurt you.”

“I know,” you softly acknowledged. Liam was such a sweet boy. 

The sound of Stiles’s footsteps caused you both to shift your attention back to the group.

“Nothing.”

“She has a car, she can catch up to us,” Braeden said.

Peter pointed at her. “She has a good point, call from the road.”

“No, what if something happened? What if she’s in trouble?”

“I can call Mason,” Liam offered. “He’s at a study group at school, maybe he could look for her.”

Everyone nodded in agreement. 

Moving towards the van with Liam, you reached out and took his hand. The gesture was enough to reassure the boy as his nerves grew anxious with everything starting to happen.

“Remember what we’re dealing with here,” Peter spoke up. “It’s not just Kate, it’s berserkers. You might see human eyes behind those skulls, do not assume there’s any humanity left.”

Those words made you tilt your head in thought. Beside you, Liam shifted uncomfortably.

“This little one is terrified of them, are you?” 

You immediately lifted your eyes to stare Peter down while everyone shifted their attention onto Liam.

“He’ll be fine,” you stated, challengingly. 

“Of course,” Peter said. “The fear will keep him alive. Remember, everyone we’re not fighting to survive, we fight to kill.”

His words didn’t resonate with you and you turned away. Offering Liam a small smile, you pulled him after you. Something was up with Peter, but you weren’t going to say anything.

Not when he could still hear you.

In the back of the van with Liam handcuffed securely, you and Stiles both looked at Derek with disbelieving looks when he pulled out his triskelion. 

“This has been with my family for centuries, it’s a very powerful supernatural talisman. We use it to teach betas to control themselves on a full moon.”

While Liam’s eyes were focused on the talisman, you and Stiles exchanged a silent conversation.

‘Should we say anything?’

‘I don’t want to call out Derek’s lie. You say something if you need to.’

You bit your lip and nodded. 

“I guess we have a back up plan if I’m not around then,” you commented. 

As you all shared quiet conversations as the sun went down and the moon began to rise, you could sense Liam growing worried. Holding his hand, you observed him carefully. 

His heart was starting to pick up a little bit, whether it be from his emotions or the effects of the moon. 

“Are you going to be okay sitting next to Liam, (Y/N)?” Stiles asked.

You nodded. 

Humming softly, you watched as the melody affected not only Liam but the other two who could hear you as well. Your tune was one for calming, and at the moment, it was working in perfectly fine.

Competing with the powers of the moon would be a struggle between power dynamics though. 

As the moon continued to rise in the sky, you could tell Liam was beginning to struggle. His heart rate was increase, his palms felt sweaty and his breathing was becoming labored. He was trying so hard to resist the urges to shift.

“Breathe,” you softly whispered. “You are in control, Liam. I believe in you.”

“(Y/N)…” His voice came back shaky.

All the signs of him being affected by the moon were starting to show. His claws were slowly coming out.

“(Y/N) -” Derek spoke up.

Ignoring him, you grabbed Liam’s face, your (E/C) eyes staring into his glowing yellow ones. You could hear him trying to pull at the handcuffs that were holding him down. Sweating was running down his face and his fangs were now showing, but you ignored it. 

You promised him you would help.

“Liam,” you said, using a stern tone. “You’re okay.”

A low growl came back in response.

“Listen to me, you are okay,” you repeated. 

Liam bared his fangs, jolting forward. His violent motions caused the van to move and it wasn’t long before the sound of metal snapping briefly filled the van. When the van swerved a bit, it caused you to fall forward as well. Derek reached out to catch you and that brought out a loud growl and claws swung his way from Liam.

Recognizing that immediately, you nodded your thanks to Derek before moving back to be in front of Liam. It was clear to everyone that anyone touching you was upsetting to Liam. You gently brushed his cheek with your hand.

“Liam, can you hear my breathing? I want you to follow it, okay?”

He bared his fangs but didn’t growl this time. Good. Your voice was able to reach him. 

“Deep breaths,” you calmly whispered. 

Liam was trembling a bit, but you could tell he was trying. You could hear the others were converse with one another, but your sole attention was on Liam.

“You’re doing great,” you reassured him. Free hand taking his, you could hear his heart slowing down a little. “Hey.” Liam’s yellow eyes look into yours. “I’m yours, Liam. From now on until always, I’ll be yours.”

Your words definitely had an effect on him. When he blinked, the bright yellow had gone back to the soft blue hues. You could feel his claws were no longer out and heartbeat was back to steady rhythm albeit a bit fast.

Despite spending so much time together, your words still made Liam feel an overwhelming sense of happiness. Drawing from that feeling, he focused on the need to protect you to hold onto his human side - just like how you always looked out him.

“I’m yours too,” he whispered, gently squeezing your hand.

The moment the two of you shared was short lived as Stiles made a noise of disgust.

You turned to give your best friend the death stare, which rather quickly stopped him making any further comments. He merely nodded and gestured that he was zipping his mouth shut.

Liam chuckled, both from out of amusement and relief.

“Think you can bring the same level of control and strength in La Iglesia?” Derek asked.

With a flick of his wrists, Liam’s claws came out. Nervous excitement filled his eyes as he looked over at you.

Beaming at him, you bumped his shoulder happily.

“Let’s get those handcuffs off then,” you said, taking the keys from Stiles and removing the handcuff. 

“We might actually be able to do this,” Stiles commented.

As Derek got up and moved towards the door, you heard something outside the van that made you reach out for him.

Being a second to late, the appear of the berserker yanking Derek out startled all of you. 

“Braeden!” you called out, alerting the woman. You moved past Liam and out the van. Knowing your voice didn’t have too much impact on these creatures, you launched yourself at it while it was swinging at Derek. 

The quick reaction of the berserker sent you flying aside as if you were fly, crashing down into the dirt. Having anticipated that, you had braced your arms out in front of you and rolled, just barely missing a large rock.

The sounds of gun shots filled the air and you could see Braeden with her shotgun aimed at the berserker. Hurried footsteps approached you, Liam’s worried expression filled your sight. Offering him a small smile, you let him help you up. A few more rounds were fired off before you heard the berserker leave.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Derek said between labored breaths. “Just get to Scott.”

The smell of blood was in the air, you knew that everyone here with a supernatural side was able to notice right away. Moving to the van, you grabbed a water bottle and move to Derek’s side. Pouring some water over his stab wound, you pressed your hand over it. Your powers to heal began, but at the same time, you knew you couldn’t heal a wound this deep - not this quickly.

Derek shouted at the others, urging them to get going. You looked back to see Liam hesitate but go on ahead without you with everyone else. Turning back, you made eye contact with Derek.

“This is not called fine,” you murmured, looking between him and Braeden. “I can’t do too much, I’m sorry.”  

“It’s fine, go save Scott,” Derek urged. Hearing how determined he was, you frowned but complied. Moving his hand to replace yours to apply pressure to his wound, you pat his arm gently.

“Stay strong, Derek,” you whispered before hurrying after the others. You could faintly sense death still lingering in the air, even though the berserker had gone, and you knew exact who it was coming from.  

Entering the cathedral, you followed the sounds of the footsteps and whispered voices to find the rest of the group. The sight of all the bones made you pause, the amount a bit unsettling.

Pushing the feelings aside, you spotted the group. Just as you were approaching them, you saw Malia grab Liam to duck. A berserker appeared just then, crashing towards them. With a quick maneuverer, you dove and rolled in the direction the group was heading, finally able to rejoin them.

“Let’s go, (Y/N)!” Stiles said, running ahead of you.

“Right behind you!”

 As you all entered all small chamber, Malia shoved Kira’s sword towards Stiles and nodded towards you.

“You two go find Scott and Kira.”

“Wait - Malia, no!”

As you, Stiles and Kira rushed back, the sight of your other best friend being pinned back by Liam and Peter had you all panicked.

Kira quickly stepped in to stop Malia as you skid to a stop to watch the near death encounter.

“It’s Scott,” Stiles explained, eyeing the berserker.

As everyone stopped to look the unfamiliar leader, the berserker, or Scott as you had now learned, knocked back everyone one at a time despite the protests that filled the air.

As you saw him approaching Liam who was scrambling back, you let out a long high frequency shriek, causing everyone including Scott to freeze in their place.

“Scott, listen!” Liam shouted, looking up at the alpha. From being held immobile from your shriek, the two managed to share eye contact. “You’re not a monster. You’re a werewolf... like me.”

Liam’s words seemed to have some impact on Scott as he looked at the armor on himself confused. As everyone’s eyes were on Scott, the sound of someone’s calm heartbeat threw you off. Turning your head slightly, you noticed the stoic expression by Peter before being hearing the growl from Scott.

Scott’s red eyes were immediately drawn to Peter as well.

“You... The only one who knew as much as Argent about the berserkers... You taught Kate. All for power.”

“For my family’s power.” Peter retorted. “To be rightfully inherited by me.”

Malia who stood by his side began to move away, stunned by this information. 

“Not by you... you don’t deserve your power.”

Peter’s transformation put everyone in a defensive stance. You took a few steps forward, ensuring that if anyone came close enough, you would be able to at least stop them from getting Stiles. 

“You were my beta first, Scott. It was my bite that changed your life, and my bite that can end it.”

“Then end it, Peter,” Scott challenged. “Because you won’t get another chance.”

The two growled before their forces collided. You moved, yanking Stiles back to ensure he’d be safe. This was not your fight, but you were going to make sure that your friends were safe.

It wasn’t until the sound of resounding thud that you exchanged a breath of relief with Stiles. 

Scott had defeated Peter.

It was finally over.

Holding onto Liam’s hand, you two sat on the bleachers staring at the empty field. 

“Coach didn’t believe in the cover story, did he?” you asked, leaning your head against Liam shoulder.

“Nope,” he replied with an awkward laugh. “So much for trying to be honest.”

You hummed in acknowledgement. Finally things were back to the so called normal of Beacon Hills. 

Which meant that you and Liam could finally enjoy time together without death threats and berserkers ready to jump out around the corner.

“You’re finally under control,” you commented, thinking back to how Liam reacted when Peter threw the wooden crate at him. 

“Yeah, I am...” 

The pride in his voice made you smile. Everyone had come a long way since the start of the deadpool. Despite everything ending over the weekend, you felt as if it had been much longer ago. 

“We should go on a proper date sometime,” you thought out loud.

Liam’s head quickly moved as he moved to make eye contact with you. A rosy hue coloured his cheeks. How cute.

“Are we...?”

You broke into a smile. “Would you like to be my boyfriend?”

Unable to form words, Liam frantically nodded. Laughing at how adorable he was, you pulled him into a hug.

You didn’t know how long you had before the next supernatural trouble would everyone, but you were going to savor every second of peace that you could.

Tag list:

@muse-sprayberry, @thebookisbtr, @thebeautifulbookworm, @poguestyle17,  @linkpk88​, @maggiecc

#teen wolf #liam dunbar imagine #liam dunbar imagines #liam dunbar x reader #liam #dunbar #liam dunbar #x reader #reader insert #imagine #imagines #Siren!Reader #siren reader #Song Of The Siren #part 8

[mirrorforevers]

any human friend • graham coxon/reader

i know its been a while but at last its here! thank u so much for the prompt anon, hope u didn’t give up on me n i hope u guys enjoy it jkhkdjd loved writing this fic so much

word count: 2.873 pairing: graham/fem!reader

It’s a Saturday. Usually, you always have plans with your friends after your concerts, but for different reasons they all canceled that day's meeting. Life was tough for artists on the rise. The week had been exhausting enough that you wouldn't give up drinking to forget about your problems. When you arrive at the pub, you don’t recognize any familiar face, and, somewhat disappointed, you sit next to a man with graying hair who is very concentrated on his phone.

A bummer of a night for such a talkative girl.

“One pint of lager and a packet of crisps, please.” You order, mindlessly tapping on the table to the beat of a random rhythm. You kept stealing sideways glances at the man sitting by your side. 

“Can’t believe she did this.” The man mutters, still very concentrated on whatever he was watching or reading. You, for a split second, thought he was judging your very basic order for some reason but then noticed he just thought out loud, and you joke: “What’s wrong with my order, mate?”

This takes him out of his trance as he awkwardly and quickly apologizes, and while you calm him down you notice he’s one of the artists that shared the stage with you on The Nightingale earlier that day. He was absolutely incredible - you wanted to tell him how much you enjoyed his music but didn’t get the chance. Well, apparently now’s the time. “Wait, I saw you playing today.” is what you say, mid sentence, a little starstruck even though, just like you, he wasn’t famous. You were at the same page in a matter of stardom, actually. He blushes and smiles, and after he takes a long sip of his drink, he asks: “And did you like it?” 

“A lot!” You answer a little too excitedly, containing yourself so you don’t scare him away. Music was always a topic that excited you to the point of making you tremble sometimes. “Um, you’re an awesome songwriter. I played in The Nightingale today too, I don’t know if you were already there when I played. My name's Y/N, by the way. You’re Graham, right?”

“I actually arrived when you were at the stage. And yes, I-I'm Graham, nice to meet you, Y/N.” he chuckles, giving you his entire attention after he shakes your hand. Turns out you’ve found a company on this lonely Saturday night. “You’re an awesome singer, I’m quite honored to hear that you enjoyed my show.” 

It was now your turn to blush, and you playfully motion as if dismissing his comment. “You were something else. ‘In The Morning’? I think that was the name of the first song?” He nods, basking on the attention his work has gotten from a fellow artist, and you continue: “Your playing alone somehow sounded like 3 different guitars on that one. Don’t Believe Anything I Say was a favorite of mine too, what an earworm.” 

“You remember the names.” He notes, genuinely surprised and… happy. “Your voice blew me away too. You… you were stellar.”

God knows how hard it is to make a name for yourself. Actually, to make people just pay attention to what you’re doing when you aren’t a commercially successful musician is really tough. You know how you feel when you’re complimented in that sense, and you’re shocked that Graham’s artistry has been ignored all this time. He truly deserves the praise, and you want to give it to him.

“Thank you, you’re too kind. I mean, how could I not remember the names of your songs? They’re fantastic. For how long you’ve been playing?” Your order arrives, and you eat your crisps while he talks about the role music has had in his life. His reveal that it’s just a hobby to him surprises you.

“And what do you do for a living?”

“I paint. I’m a visual artist.” He steals some of your chips. “I enjoy it just as much as I like to play, but only painting is putting money in my pocket. What about you?”

“I actually work at a bank, but I’m trying to make music my main job. Do you plan on changing careers in the future, or…?”

“Oh, no. I’m too old to be a rockstar.” He ruffles his hair, timidly. There was something about this man. He’s quirky and seemingly distrait at his absurd musical talent, you almost feel offended at what he says about himself. 

He also has super broad shoulders and his arms are somehow really strong and his lips inviting but you push these thoughts to the back of your mind. He’s a total stranger, after all. An adorable and extremely talented stranger, but still a stranger.

“What the hell are you talking about? You’re awesome, bloody hell, I became a fan of yours just from that gig and music’s just a hobby to you. I imagine you’re bloody Da Vinci when painting.”

“I’m really not all that, I swear.” He laughs. "Something I found curious was that you only stuck to covers. Why is that?"

“Oh. You noticed.” You answer, a little embarrassed. “I’m still not that confident in my own material. I write songs, but… let’s say I trust my music taste way more for now.” He nods in understanding. “But before you lecture me though,” he chuckles at your energy as you continue ranting. “I know how important it is for me to sing my own songs, I’m just building up courage to do it. I still think they’re stupid.”

“The only way to find out is to play them. People make all sorts of faces. It’s like a thermometer.”

“It’s true.” You down some of your pint in hopes it gives you more stuff to talk about. “Which of my songs you liked the most?” 

“Well, they’re not your songs,” he jokes, and you share a laugh. 

“Shush. Go on,”

“But I quite enjoyed your rendition of that Fiona Apple song and Wild Time. Also your cover of Band on The Run was really great. Not everyone nails that one.”

“Thank you. Those were my favorites too.”

“But I’m looking forward to seeing you again with your own material. Blend them with the others, depending on who you were influenced by, they’ll fit right in.”

“You’re right. Thanks for the words of wisdom, Graham.”

“No problem.” He pauses for an instant. “You’re a regular here, aren’t you?”

“Yes. I’m here with my friends every Saturday night, but they all cancelled on me last minute. Some of them went to see me play, at least.”

“Huh. That’s rare enough. You were lucky.”

“I know. Did... anyone you know... come to see you?” You know what you were trying to ask him, and he knew too.

“Um… Someone used to.”

“What happened?”

“We weren’t exactly right for each other.” he smiled wistfully. “Did someone other than your friends… see you?”

“Not really, no.”

A comfortable silence hangs between you two, as both of you share some shy smiles. A song by The Smiths starts playing in the background, and that’s enough to get the gear of a nice talk running once again. You really liked this man. Gradually, he talks more about himself, and also learns so much about you in the span of a few hours. 

As you feel more comfortable and used to his presence, you allow the back of your hand to brush against his a few times as you pick up your food. You give no indication you noticed the weight of his gaze, and you feel the butterflies fluttering on your belly. After eating and having a few more drinks, you were out on the sidewalk. 

There's nothing you loved more than the aftermath of afternoon storms. The earthy scent that permeates the city's dusk while its lights are reflecting off the wet asphalt, the mysterious aura that hovers over every street is something that really speaks to your senses, in a way. You also loved how those lights now reflected in Graham’s eyes. He offers to walk you home - after you tell him where you live he agrees it’s indeed not very far. Those who walk past you might think you’ve been friends for years. 

As he walks you up to your door, you feel he’s reluctant to say goodbye. And so are you. 

And the inevitable question escapes from your lips.

“Will I see you again?”

“I… I hope so.” He answers, somewhat relieved you asked. “Whenever you feel like it. And… whenever you’re free, of course.”

“I’d love to. Actually… Graham, if you can, of… of course, I-I want you to stay tonight.”

He blinks, as if the invite went completely over his head. You giggle, and make your intent more clear.  “Gosh, don’t make me repeat myself. I want you to come inside.”

“Inside, yes,” he blushes, his eyes shining. He reacts like a flustered, yet excited, teenager.  “Of course. I want to stay too, then.”

-

You were definitely not expecting to bring someone home tonight, so your flat is a cozy mess you try to conceal as coyly as you can. You show him to the couch, and after handing him another beer, you go to the kitchen to fiddle with your temperamental oven to try and get it to warm up enough to cook a frozen pizza. While you wait for it to cook, you stand in the balcony, watching him from afar still wondering about the courage you mustered to bring him home.

His eyes met yours, and there it was, that cute, easy smile of his again. He sighs, as if silently asking what was going to happen next. And you answer. “I barely ate anything today because I was so nervous I was finally playing on The Nightingale. I know we ate already but I’m still hungry, sorry for being anticlimactic.”

“Don’t worry.” He looks around, a little nervous. I guess that’s a first for him too, you think. “Cute place.”

“I recently moved so there’s still a lot to unpack, but I haven’t had the time.”

Small talk ensues, and after you finally eat what you need, you share the couch with him - in a somewhat of a bold move, but just to show how comfortable you feel around him, you place your head over his shoulder. His arms fall over yours.

“Thanks for not letting me spend my Saturday night alone.” You murmur, positioning yourself so your face is closer and facing his. He tends to speak with his brown eyes - which are now cast on your mouth. He answers by very calmly slipping his hands below your ears, making you shiver, and pulling you to a tender kiss.

Then he says, “Thank you for having me.”

He kisses you fully now as you arch into him. His hands are now inside of your coat, teasing to take it off, but before they explore your skin further than your sides, he asks if they can, if you’re comfortable with going all the way. You nod, positively impatient. After a few more heated moments of kisses, you now find yourself on your back, with just your bra and jeans on, his weight on top of you as his lips travel down your jawline and your neck. His fingers run tantalizingly through the hem of your high-waisted jeans. “Planning on taking that off any time soon?” he whispers. 

“I was afraid you might think I was going too fast if I went any further, actually,” you giggle. “Do the honors.”

“My pleasure.” 

After he takes it off you, he pulls you closer to him, your bare skin against his still very clothed one, and you wrap your legs around his waist, once again trying to be as near and physically intimate with him as possible. He seemed to want that too, slowly rocking his hips against yours, groaning softly. “Please get rid of those too,” You whine, voice slightly breathy, tugging lightly at his striped shirt. Your wish is his command. 

Now that he’s shirtless, if he was already an eyeful to you before, you absolutely can’t take your eyes off his body now. He’s surprisingly fit for his age, though that wasn’t something you were particularly meticulous about. You were aching for him, painfully wet, and your anticipation was almost tangible in the air you shared - he detected it, apparently, and you hear the slightest waver in his voice when he adjusts himself to slowly begin stroking you over your underwear. “Tell me if I’m going too hard.” The softness of his voice made you shiver. You nodded, not intending to tell him anything of the sort as you pressed yourself harder into the soft pads of his fingers, gradually picking up speed. In a few more moments, you were worked up enough to nearly panting. 

You pull your panties to the side and guide his hand to your heat directly. His other hand lifts your chin. “You want to see my face while you touch me, right?” you asked, voice smokey. He huffed gently, eyes darting away, a light blush spreading on his cheeks while your breath starts to falter. You don’t know what does it, exactly – the slow and deliberate circling on your clit, the lingering over skin that makes you whimper your pleasure, or the gentle flick of a finger over the small bead of nerve endings, but suddenly everything is blurry starbursts and your body is spasming with the intensity of your orgasm.

You let out a sound that’s hallway between a whimper and a sigh as reality blurs back into your consciousness. As you come down from your high, you try to say something but your voice doesn’t seem to be working quite yet, so instead you shut your eyes and let out a long breath. That had been intense. You wonder what Graham has in store for you next. 

His finger then enters you without warning and your hips buck involuntarily into the penetration. You clench around him, gnawing at your bottom lip as he eased his finger in and out of you. You closed your eyes and shuddered at how good it felt. He pushed two in deep and crooked his fingers. You felt a flush of new heat radiate from your middle. “Don’t stop,” you whispered, shakily, and sank into it.

“I don’t intend to.” He coos as he presses the pads of his fingers against the walls of your pussy. Involuntarily, you made this needy guttural sound you’d never heard from yourself before. You wanted to ask what he was doing to you. While it felt good, it was different. There was a new kind of tension now. It wasn’t like your first climax. This was hot and urgent and taut like a fist clenching. You writhed on the couch and mewled for something. 

Feeling you were close once again, he abruptly stops his movements - that fucker! - to your clear dissatisfaction - and rids himself of the rest of his clothes. His size intimidates you a bit, but you were determined to make it work. Once his hips are adjusted to meet yours once again and he puts on protection, after a few more kisses and a few more hard breaths, he is inside you, hands not leaving your clit this time as the eager hips of both of you started to settle into a cohesive pace.

"So fucking tight," he breathes. Your fingers dig into his skin as he's getting faster and more urgent with every thrust. His breathing is ragged and his eyes are half closed, and you tilt your face up and kiss him sloppily. There is no possibility for precision. Your bodies are rocking back and forth together too quickly for that. He grabs your ass, drinking in the moans he pulls out of you. "Come on my cock, baby, touch yourself for me," He murmurs into your ear, teeth grazing the lobe. Your attempt at a reply is cut off by another moan, pleasure overriding your senses. 

He isn’t going to last very long, not if he keeps fucking you like his sole purpose is tearing you apart. And neither will you, as one of your hands goes to your clit and moves in sync with his hard thrusts. You want to tell him that you're about to come, but you can’t, you can barely form coherent thoughts, let alone coherent phrases, so you tighten the hand that’s gripping his arm tight and you press a bruising kiss to his lips while you clench around him, hoping it’s enough. Seconds after, judging by the way his breath falters and his pace becomes slightly more mechanical before it slows down and stops, you guess that has done it for him too. You stay some long minutes in that position after you're both done, completely spent.

He pulls out of you after he gives your forehead a small kiss. "That was amazing." He smiles, voice still a little breathy. "You're incredible in every way."

"So are you, and I didn't even know about that talent of yours."

"Got some more time for me to show you the rest of them?" 

"Definitely."

#graham coxon #graham coxon x reader #britpop #smut #imagine #reader insert #blur #blur band #graham x reader

[kittyprincessofcats]

RWBY Volume 6

So, I pretty much binge-watched this one in a few days because I really needed to know how things go on after Volume 5 and it was just so good! Lots of messy thoughts to come!

[There will be spoilers for RWBY up to Volume 6 in this post (duh). Please don’t leave any spoilers for anything after Volume 6 on this post, or I will block you.]

Thoughts under the cut because this ended up getting a little long.

- The character short for Adam was really cool! It was cool to see how the White Fang began, to see Sienna, Ghira, Ilia and Adam in action, to see the irony of Sienna being a mentor to Adam and encouraging his ways when you know he’ll end up killing her, and to see a glimpse into Adam and Blake’s past relationship (and how the stuff he said to her was textbook emotional abuse). However, I do have one criticism, and it’s something that really bothers me: There’s a continuity mistake with Ilia’s age. Let’s think about this: Ilia was always implied to be the same age (or around the same age) as Blake. In the part of this short where Ghira was still leader of the White Fang, Ilia appears and doesn’t look younger than in canon. But we know Ghira stepped down at least a few years ago. If Blake is meant to be a teenager in volume 1… there’s just no way Ilia could have been there and already been an adult. She’s supposed to have still been a kid when Ghira was leader, unless she’s at least a few years older than Blake – which I don’t think she’s meant to be? Yeah sorry, this kind of stuff just bothers me. I get that timelines can be hard to keep track off, but that was a really obvious mistake and it ruins my immersion a bit.

- I loved the whole opening fight on the train and just seeing team RWBY fighting together again.

- I’ve got to say, I do feel bad for Weiss: After everything she went through to leave Atlas, she now suddenly has to go back there. I mean, that must suck.

- I’m a bit sad they just but Ilia on a bus, but I get that her main conflict is pretty much over and they had to go back to focusing on the main characters’ quest. I still wish we’d have at least gotten a scene of her interacting with the other members of team RWBY, though.

- I really liked Ilia and Blake’s goodbye at the train station, though. (And the whole “wrong tree” moment with Neptune really made me laugh 😂)

- Also just wanted to say I love Ilia’s new outfit (and the fact that she has spots on her belly – this is really important information, okay?)

- There’s a certain irony in the Faunus becoming more accepted because they STOPPED Adam’s attack on Haven.

- I think Jinn and the whole concept of how asking her questions works is super cool.

- I totally get why everyone’s pissed at Ozpin both before, during and after Jinn revealed his and Salem’s backstory. He has been hiding an awful lot from everyone, even after promising not to anymore, and he actively tried to stop the team from finding out the truth. Plus, the whole fact that he doesn’t have a plan for defeating Salem and is potentially risking everyone’s lives for nothing. (That said, can they not take it out on poor Oscar, please? None of this is his fault.)

- Oscar fighting Ozpin from within and telling them how to summon Jinn was a really badass scene. And I feel super bad for Oscar overall. Not only is he kind of at war with someone who lives in his brain now, but he also just found out that he’ll eventually only become a part of Ozma. And on top of that, people are punching and blaming him for stuff that’s not his fault. That’s super harsh.

- I’m kind of glad Cinder’s alive, because as I said, I was hoping they’d develop her more and make her a more interesting villain… but I don’t feel like this volume did that. Right now, she’s still pretty superficial, unfortunately.

- And now, time to get into one of the highlights of this volume for me: Salem’s backstory! Because holy shit, that was one hell of a backstory! When I said back in my post about volume 5 that I hope Cinder’s alive because I would like to see them make her a more interesting villain, I didn’t expect them to do just that, but for Salem. I love villains that are interesting, but I didn’t expect Salem, the literal big bad of the show, to be the interesting one here! I am pleasantly surprised by this, though! (And just to be clear, because some people love to misunderstand this: When I say “interesting”, I don’t mean “She has a sad backstory, this excuses everything she’s doing”, I mean “She has a sad backstory, this makes her more compelling as a villain”.)

- So, about that backstory: Do we all agree that the gods are major jerks, or what? I mean, initially not bringing Ozma back to life was fair, death is a part of life, they can’t upset the balance, I get that – but making him repeatedly disintegrate in Salem’s arms after she just thought she’d gotten him back? And then making her immortal just to make sure she couldn’t be with him? And then killing ALL of humanity just because of the actions of a few? But still not letting Salem die? And then bringing Ozma back after all (because now it suddenly doesn’t ‘disrupt the balance’ or what?) and kind of tricking him into that whole relics task because he wanted to be with Salem? The god are jerks, I rest my case - and I’m not sure if bringing them back is a good idea.

- Also… I get that she’s like… evil and all… but am I the only one who thought Salem got way sexier after jumping into the pools of grimm? Is that just me? Because damn… I’m kinda into that version of her. (Come on, she’s a sexy goth witch and I’m a simple lesbian, what do you expect?)

- So yeah… in an unexpected turn of events, Salem might be one of my favourite characters now? Oops? (*insert obligatory ‘this does not mean I condone her actions in any way’ disclaimer here*)

- I feel super bad for Salem and Ozma’s kids, though. I hate kids getting hurt in media in general. (I imagine the grief over them stayed with Ozma forever. And I like the theory that he gave the original four maidens their powers because they reminded him of his daughters. In general, I don’t consider him to be the bad guy in this backstory at any point. His only mistake is not being honest with the people who are helping and protecting him in the present.)

- I am now convinced that this entire show has to end with Salem and Ozma dying. That’s the only way all of this can end. Salem will have to either be killed somehow or learn the lesson the gods tried to teach her and die. Ozma will have to fulfill his task and die as well – either through Oscar dying with him (😢), through only Ozma dying but Oscar getting to live without him, or through the reincarnation cycle ending and Ozma/Ozpin recognizing that Oscar is going to be his last life. Something like that would be my prediction.

- Speaking of interesting villains: This volume also did a great job with Emerald and Mercury! With those two, I’m actually hoping for a redemption now. (And Hazel is a great guy as well. The fact that he was willing to take the blame for their failure at Haven to protect Emerald and Mercury is something I really respect.)

- I also I want to say I find Tyrion super entertaining.

- It was great to see Neo again! (I’ve gotten so used to Chibi!Neo it was almost weird to see regular Neo again.) Her fight with Cinder was EPIC.

- (I basically feel like this volume did a great job on all villains except for Cinder. But hey, maybe that’ll still happen.)

- This was an interesting volume for Qrow. On the one hand, I get why hearing Oz’s backstory drove him into a sort-of depression and made his drinking habit worse and I feel bad for him, but from the point-of-view of Ruby and the others, it must have also been super frustrating that the one proper adult in the group couldn’t keep it together and everyone else had to keep doing the hard work.

- Maria is a super cool and epic character! I really hope she sticks around with the team for Volume 7 because she’s amazing and I love her. She was super badass in her backstory (that moment where she lost her eyes was painful just to watch), I love the fact that she was Qrow’s hero growing up (and that he based his weapon on hers!), that we finally met another character who has (well, had) silver eyes, and that she’s that funny, cranky, but also wise old lady now who mentors Ruby and is just super funny all around. Good stuff, I hope we see more of her!

- The Apathy are the creepiest grim yet. The whole concept of them draining you of your will to live without you even noticing is just SO scary – I love it, but I’m also low-key terrified. The crew’s trip to that farm estate could have easily gone very wrong. Pretty much nothing but Ruby’s silver eyes even worked on them. I like how those episodes set the whole thing up – Team RWBY having emotional conversations while they were in the house, everyone having doubts (which makes sense at that point in the story, so you don’t really question it at first), and then the sneaking realization of what’s going on. Also, the guy who sealed in those Apathy grim in in the first place was just so dumb. How could you think that was a good idea? Good job getting everyone killed, dude.

- I’m glad this volume gave us more on Ruby’s silver eyes! I like that she finally got to use them before the season finale (though I loved that joke on RWBY Chibi), and I also like that she first used them to protect Blake. (I don’t ship them as much as Bumbleby, but I feel like Ruby and Blake’s ship/friendship is super underrated.) It was also nice to learn more about how the Silver eyes work in general and how they came to be. (If they came from the god of light, I’m assuming all the people with silver eyes are the descendants of Ozma’s past lives? TV Tropes kind of helped me out here: Apparently if you freeze the picture where you see one of his past lives with his kids, you can see the kids have silver eyes.) People with silver eyes being hunted also comes as no surprise to me, that’s kind of what I was assuming already. (Which raises the question: Just how did Summer Rose die?) Also, interesting fact that they only work on the Grimm...

- That moment where they reunite with JNR in Argus was really sweet. I also loved the design of Argus as a whole.

- I LOVE Saphron, Terra, and their son!!! I love that we got to meet one of Jaune’s sisters, I love that we got some more LGBT+ representation, and their baby is adorable!! (I loved that scene of everyone cooing over the baby. Also, that moment where Ruby realized Jaune and Saphron were siblings. Also, that moment where the baby helped them distract the guards by crying.) Basically, I just love the Cotta-Arcs. (Also, I just want to say that Saphron is super pretty.)

- Cordovin and her two goons are hilarious. I mean, I also hate them because they’re overly patriotic Atlas-people and Cordovin was racist to Blake – but they’re also super freaking hilarious. Every little line of Maria and Cordovin’s beef with each other had my dying with laughter 🤣 (mainly it was Maria’s lines that had me dying with laughter).

- That whole scene with the statue of Pyrrha was such a tearjerker 😢. First the leaf, then the sad music, then Jaune talking to that red-haired lady (I’m guessing she’s either Pyrrha’s mom or sister?), and then Ren and Nora joining and giving Jaune a pep-talk 😭 😭. I think this was a really important moment for Jaune, not just to get closure, but also to stop blaming himself and putting himself down. I’m glad Ren and Nora told him they don’t want to lose him too, and that the red-haired lady said she’s “glad Pyrrha was surrounded by such amazing people”. Gosh, now I’m tearing up again writing this 😭. I miss Pyrrha 😭 😭.

- I love Oscar’s new outfit. It was time for him to finally drop the farm boy look.

- I love how Jaune is so down for crime that his plan is just “They only let Atlas airships though, so we steal an Atlas airship.” I mean, makes sense.

- I think their whole plan to steal the airship was super cool and although I get why things can’t be that easy in shows like this (and I love that we got the showdown with Adam), I still kind of wish it had worked just because it was a really cool plan and everyone had their part to play in it. Heck, even the baby got to help (and it was awesome)! But yeah, Adam just had to ruin everything, nothing new there.

- So, about Adam: First of all, he’s a major creep for victim-blaming Blake (again) and stalking her. I like how creepy his behaviour is from a story-telling perspective (and from an angst-loving “I like seeing my faves suffer” perspective), but his story was getting a little old, so I’m not too sad they killed him off now. It was a good point in the story to do it. (That said, holy shit is he a creep! “I wouldn’t have to be doing this if you just behaved”? Wow. I get that he’s meant to be abusive and controlling; that’s the point of his character (and like I said, I’m here for the angst), but… yikes, poor Blake.)

- And then we had Blake and Yang’s rematch with Adam. EPIC STUFF. First of all, I like that Blake was able to hold her own against him for a bit (and same for Yang later). I also love the whole dramatic setting by the waterfall and the fact that Blake lost her coat (this is important, okay? it symbolizes vulnerability – and also it just looks cool), the scar on Blake’s belly (from their fight at Beacon, right?), the face reveal of Adam – I just love how all of this was set up in such an epic, dramatic way. But the most epic moment, at least from the start of the fight, has got to be Yang just jumping down there with her motorcycle hitting Adam and that amazing music. I’ve said before that Yang is just too cool for words and I will stand by that. The fight itself was epic too, though I was so stressed the whole time I couldn’t completely pay attention. Blake and Yang fighting Adam together was definitely the best part, though. And I loved the irony of Yang’s metal arm saving her. In general, I like that Yang and Blake got to fight and defeat (and kill) Adam together because he’s been a demon for both of them, and I like that they clarified they’re doing it as equal partners. “We’re protecting each other” was a nice callback to earlier when Blake tried to reassure Yang she’d protect her, and to even earlier when Yang was protecting Blake at Beacon.

- Let’s talk about my other highlight of the volume: Bumbleby! Because sorry not sorry, there’s no way you can deny their romantic subtext anymore at this point. Early in the volume, there’s the conflict of things being weird between them, and Blake not knowing how to deal with her guilt and thinking she needs to protect Yang (and do stuff like getting her bag down for her) – while Yang feels insulted by this and thinks that Blake sees her as being incapable of doing anything now that she lost an arm. Then, when Blake first leaves to disable the comms, they give each other those really sweet, loving looks. And of course, it all leads up to them confronting their nightmare together, holding hands, and declaring that they’re protecting each other. Add Adam’s jealousy to that (He was making comparisons between himself and Yang and asking “What does she even see in you?” – that’s not a sentence you just say to your ex’s friend) and you’d have to be willfully ignorant to not see the subtext. And those soft moments after the fight just killed me: Blake breaking down crying, Yang immediately running to hug and comfort her, Blake’s promise not to leave, Yang reassuring her and wiping away her tears – I LOVE hurt/comfort stuff and I’m so soft for these two! They love each other so much!

(Pretty much the only downside of all this is that a few major parts were spoiled for me in advance. Look, it’s pretty impossible to follow lots of blogs that post wlw ships and not see that picture of Bumbleby holding hands, or the one of them hugging (or the one of them killing Adam) at some point. So yeah… I’d seen all three of those pictures before and knew this would happen. But it was still really nice to see it all come together and see how we got there!)

- The fight against Cordovin and her giant mecha was also pretty cool! It reminded me a bit of the Legend of Korra finale. Ruby going inside the arm canon was an especially epic moment. And I also liked that small moment when they were flying on the Queen Lancer and Ruby had her arms around Weiss’ waist (a bit of White Rose, yay!).

- I like that moment when the Grimm attack and the team first realizes they just destroyed the only thing capable of stopping them – but to be honest, that was mostly Cordovin’s fault. She brought out that mecha for something it wasn’t meant for and started the fight that attracted the Grimm in the first place. Also, how exactly did she think the people of Atlas would take it if she had actually hurt Weiss? So yeah, most of that mess was on her, tbh. I’m glad she at least came though to help in the end, though.

- Back to Bumbleby: Honestly, the strongest romantic undertones weren’t even in the fight with Adam or directly afterwards for me, but in the last episode when they’re all on the ship together. So, Blake is blaming herself for the plan going wrong, and Yang has an arm around, her, still half holding her and reassuring her. And then – and this one really gets me – Ruby hugs Blake and gives Yang that knowing look over her shoulder while Yang suddenly looks away shyly. They’re communicating without words and Ruby totally knows what’s up. She’s basically saying “So you and Blake, huh?” and suddenly Yang – YANG – is feeling shy. This isn’t subtle. And then later Bumbleby hold hands again and look at each other like that… they’re in love, I don’t make the rules.

- And finally, we of course have Ruby’s epic silver-eyed moment in the finale, which was AMAZING. I loved all the flashbacks and how they’re drawn pictures and not just stills from the episodes, I love how the memories of her friends motivate her, I love how much of Penny there was in there (bit of Nuts and Dolts, yay!), I loved seeing adorable little!Yang, and of course the first look at Summer Rose! (I still want a Team STRQ backstory episode at some point.) Also, the music during that scene was so good!

Gosh, now I’ve talked for way too long again, but there was just so much to say about this volume! Long story short: Loved it, can’t wait to continue! (I know exactly 1 major spoiler for volume 7 because it was unavoidable on social media, but that’s it. And it’s a spoiler I really didn’t mind knowing, so…)

#RWBY #RWBY Volume 6 #RWBY Vol 6 #RWBY v6 #RWBY v6 spoilers #Ruby Rose #Weiss Schnee #Blake Belladonna #Yang Xiao Long #Bumbleby #Adam Taurus #Ilia Amitola #Ghira Belladonna #Sienna Khan #Oscar Pine #Professor Ozpin #Ozma #Salem #Maria Calavera #Jinn #Emerald #Mercury #Hazel #Tyrion #Neo #Cinder #Phyrra Nikos #Jaune Arc #Lie Ren #Nora Valkyrie

[liketolaugh-writes]

Kintsugi

I posted a oneshot with some associated smut a while back, but honestly I'm, if anything, far more pleased with the main story concept. This is a Kuroshitsuji/BOTW crossover where Link works for the Phantomhive family post-canon, using a base verse Crow and I call 'speedrun Link', where he does his journey start to finish in six months, does them in the order Naboris-Medoh-Rudania-Ruta, and takes a bad head injury less than halfway through.

------

Even when he stopped lashing out, disorientation and mistrust had Link skittering away from the two foreigners like an injured wolf, his fingers twitching on the hilt of his sword. Oddly enough, they kept their distance, though the taller and older of the two was examining his burnt and bloodied hands with clear interest.

Link was tempted to run again, but that hadn’t worked the first time, and the awful combination of his foggy, spinning head and the caustic burn of his body kept him from planning something better. It took all he had just to keep his hands from shaking, a two-handed grip on a one-handed sword.

“Are you quite finished?” the younger called out, sounding bored.

Link took a step back, swallowing thickly and ears twitching at the jarring sound that shattered the soothing silence of the forest. No one was supposed to be able to follow him into the Lost Woods. No one was supposed to be able to find him in the Lost Woods. What sort of magic did these two have?

It didn’t matter. He didn’t want to go. He’d done his damn duty, and he didn’t owe anyone anything anymore.

He took one hand off his sword and pointed out of the Lost Woods, bravado all that kept him in place. His meaning was silent but clear. Leave.

The taller one, the one that had held off Link’s sword with his bare hands and ripped his shield off of his arm, smirked at him, tugging on a new pair of gloves like nothing had happened. “Oh, I think not. We still have business here, after all.”

Too loud. Too loud. Was that a flash of fang in the man’s mouth?

The younger tilted his head and studied Link, one blue eye just visible through the dim light of the enchanted forest. “Heel, Sebastian. We did come to his… territory without invitation. The least we can do is offer him a meal in exchange for his information.”

Information. Just information? Link dearly wished he had the means to ask.

“Yes, my lord,” Sebastian said agreeably, and then, from his coat, he produced a blanket of all things, spreading it out across the ground quickly and gracefully. “I apologize for the fact that I cannot set up better accommodations on such short notice, but I did not think you would object to a picnic this once, young master.”

Goddess, Link wished it weren’t so damned hard to think. If he tightened his hood, would it soften the sharp edges of their voices?

“Fine,” the young boy said dismissively, sitting primly on the edge when Sebastian straightened up. He raised an eyebrow at Link. “Well? Are you going to join us?”

Link looked from the boy, seeming only mildly impatient, to the taller man, beginning to produce more things from his coat – bread that Link could smell as soon as he produced it, deep lidded containers of steamy soup, soft butter. Link actually took a short step back as the scent hit him, even as his eyes locked unwillingly onto it. His heart skipped a beat, the signals for hope and harm too mixed up and confused.

There was plenty of food in the Lost Woods, but it had been a long time since Link had eaten something that wasn’t raw or wriggling. Much longer than the month since he’d completed his journey.

Slowly, holding onto his sword more like a stuffed toy than a weapon, Link knelt just outside the very far edge of the blanket, off of the pristine cloth and on the more familiar grass. The boy sighed.

“Close enough, I suppose,” he said dismissively, demanding a container of the soup with a flick of his hand. Sebastian gave it to him, along with a small plate with a bread roll, and then gave the same again to Link, who hesitated only a moment before taking it. The boy even watched until Link took a bite, dipping the bread into the broth – there was no way he could handle a spoon – before he spoke. “I am Earl Ciel Phantomhive, and this is my butler Sebastian.”

Link let himself relish the taste of the bread and soup – better spiced than anything he’d ever had before – and then nodded, wary eyes on Ciel and his free hand still on his sword.

Ciel ate a few spoonfuls of soup himself, neat and perfect, and then a bite of bread, giving Link time to eat a little more himself before he continued, seeming to pay more mind to his meal than his words.

“Given recent changes to the political environment in Hyrule, certain interested parties are attempting to anticipate the future situation before any problems can arise,” Ciel explained, and though he wasn’t speaking quickly, Link’s head spun worse just trying to untangle that into something that made sense. “We’ve already spoken with Lady Impa and Queen Zelda.” He paused, and when Link didn’t reply, added, “What are you planning on doing when you emerge from the forest?”

Link had to shut his eyes at that point, and even after months, it hadn’t become any less humiliating that thinking too hard could make him feel physically ill. He swallowed twice, thick and wet, before he shakily set the bread down on his lap and at least tried to answer.

It didn’t work, of course. Between his trembling hands and his muddled brain, he hadn’t been able to sign properly since the Windblight had thrown him into Vah Medoh’s main terminal.

I don’t want to come out, he tried to say.

I’m never fighting for Zelda again, he tried next.

I just want to be left alone, he attempted.

None of them came out right and he gave up, dropping his hand back to his sword and looking away, blinking the sting of tears away from his eyes. He wasn’t hungry anymore. His cheek and neck throbbed where the Fireblight had seared the skin away into a blistered and bubbling mess.

“What’s the matter with you?” Ciel asked, the mild exasperation in his voice grating at Link’s ears almost as bad as the noise itself.

“The hero of the goddess is famously mute, young master,” Sebastian explained to the boy, and then paused, lingering and conspicuous, and added more slowly, “And… pardon me, Master Link, but might you also have a head injury?”

Link nodded miserably and wondered if that would be enough to make them leave.

“Hm,” Ciel said thoughtfully, and then, “You’re meant to be eating. Eat.”

Link ate.

“Alright,” Ciel said, several minutes later, pushing away his mostly-empty container of soup and his pristine plate. “Do you still serve the Queen of Hyrule?” Relieved by the easy question, Link shook his head. “Are you interested in political gain?” Shook his head again. “Will you be aiding Hyrule’s military?” Once more, Link’s head starting to pound from the motion and noise. “Taking an apprentice?”

In answer to that last, Link just gestured to himself – dirty and rumpled, clothes he hadn’t washed in over a month, hair tangled and loose around his shoulders from where he hadn’t been able to do it properly in far too long, huddled in on himself against the abrasive brush of air on his skin.

Ciel raised an eyebrow at him, like he actually believed Link could teach someone in this state, and finally Link just shook his head again. Even if he could, he wouldn’t. He was too bitter and sick with betrayal. He didn’t want friends anymore.

He hoped that was enough to satisfy them. Everything hurt, and he wanted them to leave.

“It sounds as if he’s no particular threat to England,” Ciel said idly to Sebastian, watching the man start to clean up. “Queen Zelda is perhaps another matter, depending on the extent of her power and charisma, but it remains to be seen. At the moment she seemed more overwhelmed with her task than anything.”

“Quite right,” Sebastian agreed, and then, to Link, just as he started to stand, “It would be entirely too rude to let your meal go to waste, don’t you agree? Besides, we have one more order of business to attend to.” Back to Ciel, “It’s entirely likely that if Hyrule does become a threat again, it won’t be for, at minimum, another few generations.”

Link hesitated, and Ciel glanced up at him long enough for Sebastian to look as well. The man gave him a beatific smile and produced a small bottle, holding it out.

“This is laudanum,” Sebastian informed him. “It’s a popular painkiller in England, quite effective. Since you smell so strongly of pain I can detect almost nothing else, I thought it might be of interest to you. Are you willing to lend an ear now?”

Link wavered, trying to figure out if Sebastian was sincere, and when he didn’t pull away, he took the small bottle and sat back down.

The two humans across from him exchanged an unreadable look, and then Ciel nodded at Sebastian. Sebastian turned to Link, kneeling politely on the edge of the blanket, and Link cocked his head warily.

“Since you have absolutely no interest in continuing to serve as the knight of Hylia,” Sebastian said, slow and unconcerned, his eyes never breaking contact with Link’s. “Perhaps you would instead consider working for the Phantomhive family.” Link tensed, because he didn’t recognize the name, but if Sebastian thought- if either of them thought- “You would be offered a fair wage for your efforts, of course, as well as room and board. Training in any of the relevant skills that you may lack. Days off, medical leave, and, naturally, regular access to a doctor.”

Link wasn’t expecting the way that that last offer made his throat close up like he was being choked, and swallowing did nothing to dislodge the lump.

Seven months he’d been awake now, that whole time in a body that screamed when it rained and scorched his nerves when he reached too high and seemed to fester and worsen with every passing week. The shaking hands from the Thunderblight and the head injury from Vah Medoh, every new burn on Death Mountain and the days he spent crying on Vah Ruta because he couldn’t solve a damn puzzle to save his life-

And in all that time, all he’d ever heard was hurry, hurry, hurry, you’ve taken too long already, and so any care that he couldn’t get inside of an hour, he put off.

“He ought not to start work right away,” Ciel said to Sebastian, disinterested and uncaring. “If it’s truly as bad as you say, we should wait for a doctor to clear him. Humans can’t work well under that much pain.”

“As you say, my lord,” Sebastian said, oddly smug, and Link turned wide eyes on both of them, unsure if he could even trust it. Sebastian glanced at Link and cocked an eyebrow. “I could put it into writing if that would be easier to understand.”

Link was nodding before he could think twice, still clutching the little bottle of laudanum protectively against his chest.

-----

One Year Later

-----

Link woke up where he’d gone to sleep, in the little hedged-in patch of grass hidden on the outskirts of the garden. He mumbled drowsily against the ground his cheek ws pressed against, the opium he’d taken earlier coaxing him to drift back off. His whole body was still heavy and relaxed, the pain in his skin softened to the dullest ache.

A moment later, though, his eyes popped open. The guest.

He rolled over and arched to check the sun in the sky, and then swore internally, stumbling to his feet. Link was a mess, not dressed for the little master’s company at all: his uniform jacket was half-undone and askew, his trousers wrinkled, his hair down around his shoulders and tangled from where he hadn’t even brushed it that morning. His gloves were grass-stained and dirty, and his undershirt twisted around from laying prone in the garden.

His earmuffs had fallen off too, and he tugged those back on first, covering his ears and muffling the too-harsh noises around him. Then Link pushed through the corner of the hedge and darted towards the manor house, hoping Sebastian wouldn’t be too annoyed.

He caught up to Sebastian at the base of the front stairwell, flushing a little at his raised eyebrow. After a heartbeat, Sebastian just sighed at him, turning to face him better and look him up and down with a faint frown.

“I see,” Sebastian said resignedly, and then reached forward.

Link let him, closing his eyes and trying to ignore the way his cheeks wanted to heat up with embarrassment. In a few quick minutes, he felt Sebastian’s fingers run through his hair, combing out the leaves and twigs, smoothing it down, and then pulling it into Link’s usual ponytail. Then he straightened out Link’s jacket and shirt, refastened them, smoothed the cloth down, and pulled his gloves off of his hands.

“Here,” Sebastian said at last, and when Link opened his eyes again he was holding out a fresh pair of gloves. Link beamed at him and put them on.

Thank you, he signed cheerfully, smile turning bashful when Sebastian’s exasperation didn’t ease. Sebastian tutted at him.

“Please endeavor to at least not make too much of a mess of yourself when we are expecting guests,” Sebastian chided. “The others are assembled in the entrance hall, please go and join them.”

Yes, Link agreed quickly, turning and bolting up the steps. Sebastian followed at a more sedate pace, casting a lingering gaze down the road.

The others were lined up just as Sebastian had said, idling in various states of anticipation and excitement. Link looked back and forth between them – Tanaka and Mey-rin in one line, Finny and Bard in the other – until Sebastian moved past him to speak to Mey-rin.

“Mey-rin, please keep an eye on Link this evening, he’s likely to be a touch disoriented. Baldroy, you as well, please.”

Link rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed, and then Sebastian joined Finny and Bard in their line, directing Link to the other with a flick of his fingers. Link relaxed, placed himself beside Mey-rin, and turned his attention to the door to wait for Ciel’s guest.

“Almost late, you are!” Mey-rin scolded gently, and Link shrugged, rocking on his heels as he watched Ciel go out to greet the man. Already, his adrenaline had worn off and he was tempted to yawn again, sticky with sleep.

Pain rest, he explained, then reached up to rub at his eyes. Sebastian and Ciel were pretty generous with his worse days, and when he’d woken up this morning it had taken him the better part of an hour just to shuffle into his loosest and most permissive clothing.

As long as he protected the manor when he needed to, he was doing his job. And they all knew he could push through much worse than a bad day when it came down to the wire.

Mey-rin clucked sympathetically, and then there was no more time to talk; Sebastian hushed them with a gesture, and the next moment, Ciel and his guest came through the door.

Link bowed with the rest, graceful and practiced after a year at the manor, and let his head stay low as they passed: not something he’d been asked to do, but a courtesy he usually paid Ciel’s guests anyway. He lifted it as soon as they passed, and didn’t realize until Bard grabbed his sleeve that the others were leaving too. Link hurried along after them.

Event? he asked Bard, dropping down behind the bush that he and Finny were hidden behind.

“This is what you get for hiding out all day,” Bard scolded without heat, reaching out to tweak Link’s nose fondly. Then he started to explain, and Link, not really following along with the fast-paced explanation, settled in to listen anyway.

He wasn’t too worried about it. Sebastian would take care of it; he always did.

“Did you get all that?” Finny asked earnestly, as soon as Bard was done. Link shook his head, folded his arms over his knees, and set his chin down to watch anyway. “Bard! You explained too fast again!”

“Well, we ain’t got time to explain slow!” Bard complained, shaking his fist in a way Link had already internalized as playful. Link yawned.

Mey-rin break, he pointed out idly, watching Mey-rin spill wine across the table. The other two forgot all about the explanation, panicking loudly, and Link snorted, too sleepy to laugh properly.

Instead of Mey-rin or the guest, Link watched Sebastian; the flash of crimson in his eyes visible even from here, the tension that rippled through his body, the shift of weight before he acted. No matter what it was that powered him – to this day Link still had no idea – he was a beautiful man to watch in action.

The other two cheered, and Link rubbed the palm of his hand along his itchy scarred cheek, blinking slowly. He reached out to tap Bard’s shoulder for his attention.

Fetch Mey-rin, he suggested, watching the little maid sway. Bard swore and dragged Finny out along with him to spirit her back, and when they returned, Link patted her. Sebastian pretty.

“Yeah,” she sighed, soft and dreamy, and then turned pink.

Link yawned again, wincing as the high started to wear off, bringing the throb of his scarring back in increments. Sebastian come.

Sebastian had indeed finished presenting the food to the two lords, and was returning with an exasperated expression that clearly stated he’d spotted them hiding in the bushes. Bard and Finny both yelped, and Link grimaced as he and Mey-rin were dragged along to pretend as if they were back in the kitchen the whole time.

He wondered if Sebastian would let them have some of whatever dessert he was making. All the food Sebastian made was good, but the sweets were a rare treat to the four of them.

Well, one of the others would probably ask.

#kuroshitsuji #botw #crossover #sebastian michaelis #link #ciel phantomhive #fanfiction #my writing #drug use tw

[radioactivepeasant]

Fic Prompts: Free Day Thursday

(Full disclosure, this is a chunk of a toshinko fic I wrote a few years ago purely for my own amusement. I may upload it someday, but I haven't decided on that front yet)

She almost turned his offer to escort her home down on the grounds that she was a Nobody and he was going to get swarmed with people asking weird questions.

She didn’t turn him down in the end.

Forever after, neither of them were sure how they’d fallen into discussing personal matters, especially when under normal circumstances neither would be caught dead pouring out their heart to a stranger. Perhaps she’d just needed the catharsis. Perhaps he'd needed the human connection. When they reached her little apartment at last -- at least Hisashi had stayed long enough to help her move -- All Might handed her the umbrella.

“Wh- no I can’t take- what about you?” Inko sputtered.

“Ahaha no worries! I’ll be right as rain!” All Might flashed a peace sign, then broke into muffled giggles. “Wow. That was horrible. I’m so sorry.”

Inko laughed, and All Might jumped away, and that should have been the end of it.

But it wasn’t.

[[MORE]]

A few weeks later Inko found a note taped to her door in the unmistakable handwriting of All Might.

Hoping there have been a few less rainy days in your life lately! :D 

There was even a small doodle of an umbrella with his distinctive eyebrows and smile.

After taking an hour or two to get over the sheer shock of All Might remembering her -- let alone where she lived -- Inko found herself sticking the note to her refrigerator.

Second-guessing herself the whole way, Inko taped a note of her own on her door, a short and sweet heartfelt thanks for him going out of his way to make sure she was alright, and listening to her complaining. After a moment’s hesitation, she added a doodle of her own. A rainbow with his smile.

The note stayed on her door for two days and Inko tried not to be disappointed. Logically she knew it was extremely unlikely that a hero of his caliber would even be in her city, let alone on this end of town, and even if he was, he’d be far too busy for social visits. (Why was she expecting All Might to make social visits?!)

On day three the note was gone and something else was in its place.

It wasn’t carefully written on blank paper this time. It was hastily done, as if on the spot, and on the back of what looked like a grocery list. Still, it was fairly obvious who it was from.

It was no trouble at all, please don’t worry about it! Truthfully, it was nice to get to just talk with someone like that. Actually, I don’t get to do that very often! :D 

Wishing you and the baby the best! - AM :D :D 

Oh lord. The baby. That’s right, she was pregnant. She was literally constructing a human being from scratch!

...okay, it sounded kind of metal when she thought of it like that.

Inko shuffled back inside to make a stiff cup of chamomile and figure out how to organize the very bizarre amount of money Hisashi had sent her. He was as broke as she was, probably, going to that exclusive medical school. But he'd somehow managed to scrape up enough in mismatched bills to cover at least two doctors' visits. And he'd sent a pack of pacifiers?

Bless his heart, but Fujioka Hisashi didn't know much about babies. Inko taped his "sorry I'm an idiot, can we still be friends" note up on the fridge. Then, after a moment's pause, she added the second note from All Might. 

Somehow, the notes became a regular thing after that. He started slipping them through the mail slot rather than taping them to the door, which was probably safer in the long run. And she started hiding hers under the mat, in a plastic bag.

She probably could have just sent the notes to his agency, like every other fan, but she worried that it would be lost among the hundreds of thousands of other letters.

Short “how are you” notes became mid-length “fought an umbrella themed villain today and thought of you, how are you?” notes. Sometimes Inko left letters about everything and nothing, talking about how she saw a flower blooming in a place it shouldn’t have been and it looked so hopeful there that she felt like everything was going to be alright. Sometimes she sent a favorite poem.

Once, about two months in, she’d just barely referenced rent and a doctor’s bill coming at the same time and within a week he’d sent her an envelope with a check to cover both. She’d been horribly embarrassed, and there was an awkward tension in the letters for a week or two until they settled the fact that she wasn’t looking for charity and he only wanted to help.

Three months of letters and Inko had begun to feel as though she knew the Symbol of Peace. Actually knew him. Oh, it was just a silly fantasy, of course, it had to be. No doubt he was barely sharing anything about himself, and he probably did this with other fans too. Or at least, she’d thought that until one of his letters questioned a mention of Mitsuki asking why she was happy all the time now and her not knowing how to answer. Hadn’t she told anyone about the letters?

No, actually, I never told anyone, Inko had written back, I’m not sure why. I’m sure this is a normal thing you do, since you’re so kind, but I can’t help worrying that some people will say nasty things about you if they find out you’re penpals with a pregnant lady. 

The response had come on the same day, a post-it note on her door in the space between getting off the couch and walking to the door. She’d just missed him, evidently.

Had to run, sorry for shortness, it said, But you’re the only one I write to. 

Inko had needed to sit down after that. 

The following morning there was a three page letter resting on the floor just under the mail slot. It was handwritten, as all the others had been, and expanded on the post-it note. All Might was writing to say that while he did try to personally answer fanmail, this wasn’t fanmail. This was a correspondence with a friend (at least, he hoped it was, he was pretty sure it was, he wasn’t trying to overstep any boundaries or anything--). That he felt that he’d come to know her as a person in the last three months, that he looked forward to getting her notes every week. That he didn’t want to make her uncomfortable, not ever, but perhaps it would be best if at some point they could meet and discuss things in person so there were fewer chances of misunderstandings?

Inko had to read it six times before it sunk in that All Might was asking to meet her. All Might was asking to meet her! She was in a daze all through her commute to work and most of the way through her workday. Her boss was forgiving enough to chalk it up to pregnancy and simply remind her to actually answer the phones when they rang. When her lunch break came, Inko wandered down to a small grocery store on the same street as her office -- much better prices than the one in her neighborhood, but an hour was a long trip just for groceries so she tended to use the other store. Still in a bit of a fog, Inko didn’t notice until too late that the canned fruit she was looking for was on a shelf much much higher than she could actually reach.

She could’ve just used her quirk to get it down, but...well, unlicensed public quirk use was illegal, no matter how impractical that was. Inko stretched up with one hand, keeping the other hand on her stomach. The baby apparently disapproved of this sudden movement and was rolling around. He liked it when she was walking, not so much when she was stretching. (And still she hadn’t picked a name for him. She’d tried a few, but nothing seemed to stick.)

“Here, let me-!”

Someone reached up over her head and brought down the can. At first glance, out of the corner of her eye, Inko almost mistook him for All Might. But that was ridiculous, right? His hair was wild and curly, all save two long bangs he’d sort of let flop loose in front of his face. And while he was definitely muscular, he didn’t quite seem to have the same level of definition as All Might. Very close, though. Inko realized she was staring at him and blushed bright red. 

“S-sorry! You didn’t have to do that!” she stammered as he handed her the can.

“Well I didn’t want you to get hurt,” the man said with surprising sincerity, “Sorry if that was awkward haha I’m...bad at social things.”

And that was Inko’s introduction to Yagi Toshinori. He’d clumsily introduced himself and then dashed off blushing the moment her back was turned. Odd fellow. There’d been something strangely familiar about his eyes, though, and she just couldn’t place it. They looked almost like...nah. Couldn’t be.

Four weeks later, one of her neighbors asked her about “the buff American-looking guy” who slipped letters through her door at weird hours and Inko had an epiphany. If it was All Might, they’d have seen All Might. And probably called the presses. But the things in the letters were things that only All Might would know unless someone else had been reading her letters. With shaking hands, she wrote her next letter and slipped it under the mat.

If I met you while you were off the clock, would I still recognize you? 

If she hadn’t been sore and unwilling to move from the couch, she would have waited by the door to see if she could catch her mystery penpal. She fell asleep there, waiting, and didn’t wake up again until her phone alarm went off the next morning to tell her to get ready for work. Grumbling, Inko showered, changed, and managed some form of breakfast. The baby really really hated miso and natto, so she’d been sticking to things like eggs and yogurt and citrus. 

“Come on kid, I miss soup,” Inko groaned as she shoved an orange into her purse for later and bolted. She almost stepped on the folded piece of paper at the door. Already running late, she stuck it into her purse and didn’t even look at it until hours later that day.

Well, you would now, was all it said. 

#free day thursday #bnha au #bnha #toshinko #toshinori yagi #yagi toshinori #midoriya inko #inko midoriya #Izuku isn't born yet #self-indulgent au is self-indulgent and i make no apologies #pen pals #Toshi is like 'this is safer than texting right?' #somewhere Gran Torino is having a conniption #fic excerpt #fic prompts #writing prompts #long post

[sol1056]

wuxia/xianxia: a loose and somewhat second-hand introduction to the genre, pt1

Sorry for the unconventional q, but i keep seeing Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation everywhere and I kinda want to get into it but a) don't know where to start (web series? live action adaptation?? wait how many are there!) and b) i don't really "get" wuxia / xianxia, that sorta stuff, i find it really hard to cross that cultural barrier and chinese mentality seems very alien. (it's not that i have no experience w different mentalities but chinese in particular is v hard to grasp w/o sources).

So if you have the time and patience, I'd love to hear a summary of it (like, a coherent summary bc all i get on the wikis is a shower of names and concepts that don't make sense to me) and perhaps some "intro for dummies" abt the relevant parts of chinese history and mentality tied to it? not just the cultivation / buddhist part but also re: familial relationships, philosophy and all that. (v brief and low effort of course) Thank you and sorry for bothering you!

("brief and low effort" referring to what I'm asking from you, not to what I need for me - as in i asked for it so i'm more than ready for a complicated essay, but you can write with as much detail as you like, I don't want to ask for some sort of comprehensive tome)

Okay first, you do realize that if you want “brief and low” for anything, you’re asking the wrong person? I was a philosophy major. brief got drilled out of me a long time ago. 

Second... well, explaining what makes The Untamed / Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation (mdzs for short, from the chinese title, Mo Dao Zu Shi) such a standout story does require understanding some of the wuxia conventions it subverts -- as well as some that it plays straight (so to speak) very, very well. 

I figure the best approach (again, sadly not brief) is to first get a handle on the genre of wuxia. Gonna break this post into two, so you’re not reading in a single three-hour stretch or something. I’ll do a follow-up about mdzs, to hopefully make it a bit more accessible for you. 

before I do that, let me first say: I didn’t grow up with this genre, so there’s going to be parts that I may miscast unintentionally. for an insider’s view, my go-to voices are @guzhuangheaven, @atthewaterside, @dramatic-gwynne, @the50-person and @drunkensword. if any of them are reading this and can point to more/other/better voices, please do.

I have three analogies -- like cultural doorways --  and like all analogies, they break down when you get into the finer details. In the broad strokes, though, they mostly work, and if nothing else, hopefully they’ll demonstrate that wuxia may be a chinese-specific version, but part of a storytelling tradition that’s nearly universal.

The three doorways are: the american wild west, the samurai era, and the british arthurian romances. And, in a tangential way, the regency period in the romance genre. 

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- 

The term ‘wuxia’ can be translated several ways, but I prefer ‘martial chivalry’. Most wuxia takes place in the jianghu, a harder term to unpack. Generally, though, ‘the jianghu’ has connotations not all that different from what americans mean when they reference the wild west. 

More of a concept than a physical place, the jianghu (like the ‘wild’ west) exists beyond the reach of the law and/or civilization. It’s occupied by a diverse cast of farmers, merchants, beggars, and so on, but also by outlaws, gangs, hermits, pretty much all those who don’t like the suffocating nature of the civilized world, for whatever reason. It’s not a lawless place (except to outsiders); it does have laws, but those are only unto itself. 

So, jianghu is a world to itself, for the most part -- which also makes it kind of timeless. Tang dynasty, Song dynasty, Ming dynasty, it could be any of them and all of them and none of them. Just as the heyday of the cowboys and the cattle drives was barely a decade long, a culture’s romanticized history stretches into lifetimes that exist separate from any date you could pin down on a calendar. 

The average wuxia protagonist would fit in reasonably well as knight errants in an arthurian romance, with one important detail in difference: they’re rarely aristocrats. Wuxia protagonists are just as likely (if not more so) to be lower-born, whether the child of farmers, or servants, some common caste. 

This is where wuxia diverges from the british and japanese traditions, which have a bit more noblesse oblige going on (knights and samurai both being upper-class types). Even ‘aristocratic’ characters tend to be so only within the jianghu -- sort of like the way a territory’s elected leader in the wild west would’ve had no pull in Washington, given they weren’t from a fully-recognized state. 

Wuxia does often have politics, between competing sects (think schools of learning), but that political infighting is independent of the capital’s rules or wishes. A lot of stories -- in the rare cases the topic even comes up -- tends to speak of ‘the capital’ in disparaging terms. 

That’s not to say wuxia is all about the flat social systems (it’s definitely not), but most commonly a rank implies some level of competence/study. The title of sect leader isn’t granted, it's earned. Children inherit, but it’s also a common storyline to have an heir with no skills (who then goes through all the trials and tribulations to finally level up and earn that position in turn).

What makes wuxia hard to grasp is its vernacular: the conventions that form the backbone that make something recognizably ‘wuxia’ and not just ‘historical drama set on a frontier in a loosely-defined time period’. 

Frex: in a Wild West story, convention is two gunfighters at opposite ends of the street, and at least one of them is wearing a holster tied to his leg with string in a way that no real gunfighter wore, ever, but Hollywood came up with the idea and now it’s a permanent part of our imagination. In the arthurian romances,  convention is carrying the token of one’s lady love (a distant, untouchable figure who rarely appears on-page), or meeting the unnamed knight in black on the jousting field. Convention are the samurai who’ll die for their lord’s honor, always touchy and prickly at the first sign of disrespect. 

These are things granted the most remarkable gravity, that to an outsider might seem ridiculous. (Why is there always tumbleweed?) 

Now, wuxia is the latest evolution in a long-lived literary tradition (and by ‘long’ I mean like 2000+ years) -- but like any living tradition, each subsequent generation reinvents it for their time. Part of that reinvention comes from particularly influential writers, who put their own spin on things, and their interpretation becomes the next generation’s standard for the genre -- “of course wuxia must have X” or “a protagonist never does Y”. (Like how Tolkien almost single-handedly changed western concepts of elves, in fiction.)

And here’s where I explain what regency romance has to do with it. Another short-lived period, in real history, but along came Georgette Heyer, who took bits and pieces of actual research, blended them with her reactionary politics, exaggerating some things and ignoring other things completely. The result is a time-that-never-was, but she cast (and still casts) a shadow so vast that I’ve seen multiple romance writers complain that readers will see a footnoted-and-researched version as wrong, if it contradicts one of Heyer’s made-up conventions. 

Modern wuxia has its own Heyer-sized influencers -- like Jin Yong (the Condor trilogy, Demi-Gods and Semi-Devils), Wen Rui'an (The Four), Gu Long (The Legend of Flying Daggers, The Proud Twins), to name a few of the biggest. If you have a chance or are inclined, the big names get remade on a pretty regular basis, and catching one will at least let you see some ur-tropes in action. 

But it also means that you can’t really extrapolate, in the sense of saying, “in wuxia, people do X, ergo, X is also a factor in Chinese culture.” It’s like... take any western made in the 50s, and the vernacular is simple. The bad guys wear black hats, the good guys wear white hats, the prostitutes wear bright-colored dresses with frills and the good women wear subdued colors buttoned up to their neck. It told an audience exactly what character filled what role, but that’d tell you zero about real people you might meet in Nebraska or Utah, let alone New York City. 

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- 

Almost forgot: xianxia is basically wuxia but with ‘immortal heroes’ -- so there’s gods, divine influences, non-human beings as characters (main or NPC), etc. (Btw, by ‘immortal’ I mean exactly that, like this character is six hundred years old, that one’s a thousand years old, etc.) You can think of xianxia as wuxia, but amped way up on the mystical scale. 

Xianxia will sometimes take place on earth (jianghu) but sometimes in the celestial realm (heaven). Or a mix of both, like stories where a character falls (or is banished, or defects) from heaven and has to go through various trials and tribulations as a mortal human in order to regain a power, rise in rank, fall in love, or whatever their goal is. 

A number of wuxia stories are driven by some sort of mcguffin, but in xianxia, the mcguffin is more likely to be a powerful spiritual weapon. But I can also think of a number of wuxia in which the mcguffin would fit right in, in xianxia (some near-mystical thing with significant positive, or negative, power independent of the wielder, which often amplifies or boosts the wielder to an inhuman degree, etc). 

Thing is, the mcguffin being divine/infernal supernatural isn’t enough alone to make the story xianxia. I’m pretty sure you need non-human or super-human immortals and/or creatures to be considered in the xianxia genre. 

part two

#wuxia #come for the brief essay stay for the dissertation #grandmaster of demonic cultivation #mdzs

[yet-another-fan-girl9]

Inhuman (5)

Summary: All beings in the universe have a soulmate except for Midgardians. People can hear their soulmate in their heads. For almost five hundred and fifty years, Loki believed that he had no soulmate until 1513 when a Midgardian princess was born. Will fate be kind to them or will the universe tear them apart?

Warnings: violence, language, hella historical inaccuracies (I tried to do research but then got lazy), maybe some AOS spoilers(?)

Word Count: ~3000

A/N: This one is short because I’m busy getting ready to move into my college dorm!

[Upstate New York, May 2024]

“You may be wondering why I summoned you all here.” The Avengers looked at your group in silence. “Wow,” Max continued. “I’ve always wanted to say that.”

“He’s lying,” you said and everyone’s eyes landed on you. You tried to ignore Loki but it was hard with the unexplainable tugging. Was it really unexplainable, though? “I’m actually the one who summoned you.”

“Technically it was me through the AI,” Liam cut in.

“Oh, hush up.” You waved him off. “We have something important to talk about.”

“Yes, we do.” Steve stood up. “You have a lot to talk about.”

“Wait, I recognize you,” the Black Widow said and looked Izzy up and down. “You were the flower shop girl. Of fucking course. You work together. That’s why we couldn’t find her after she killed the Senator.” The female Avenger put her face in her hands.

“That guy with the bright lights isn’t with you, is he?” the one you recognized as the Valkyrie crossly scanned your group.

“Arthur as well as the Senator are old news, we have some more pressing matters at hand.”

“Like how you were in a car crash, a bad one,” Bucky pointed out. “Yet you don’t seem injured at all.”

“And how you killed the Kree Reaper,” Thor added.

“Like how you broke into the compound,” Stark said. “How do you keep doing that?”

“Like how you’re still alive?” Loki’s voice sent shivers up your spine. It had been so, so long. It took everything to stay in place. You squeezed your eyes shut and took a deep breath before continuing.

“Let’s backtrack to the Kree, what did you call it? Reaper?” You looked at everyone in the room except for Loki.

“Alright, let’s talk about the Kree.” Steve crossed his arms. “I’m sure you know why they’re here.”

“For us.” You gestured at your group. “They’re here to kill the weak Inhumans and bring the strong ones back to Hala.”

“I’m sorry, Inhumans?”

“You don’t know? It should be in S.H.I.E.L.D’s files.”

“We kinda distanced ourselves from S.H.I.E.L.D. after it fell years ago,” Stark said.

“Well, I thought Coulson would have told you.”

“The son of Coul died long ago.” Thor pointed at Loki who you only saw out of the corner of your eye. “This one stabbed him.”

“Yes, I know he never stopped talking about it. That really started a whole shit chain of events, you know. Anyways, we were talking about Inhumans.”

“Are we up for a history lesson?” Banner asked.

“Sure, crash course in Inhumans. Thousands of years ago, Kree came to Earth with the task of creating bioweapons. They experimented on some people, yada yada, I’m not a biologist. It created a gene in humans that would change when exposed to Terrigen crystals. Anyways, there was an Inhuman revolution led by some guy named Alv… Er, Alvin? No, uh… led by some guy called Hive. Then the Inhumans teamed up with regular humans to banish Hive to another planet. Some Inhumans stayed loyal to him, though and created an organization that would later become Hydra, but that’s another story.” Steve and Bucky looked at each other. “Then, Inhumans just kinda… faded, I guess, when access to Terrigen crystals became challenging. There was a whole accident with Terrigen crystals contaminating fish or whatever. Thank your pal Coulson for that. Now we’re here. The end.”

“And you’re an Inhuman,” Loki said.

“Yes,” you quietly replied and finally looked at him. It felt like your heart was going to beat out of your chest if you didn’t run to him. He crossed his arms and looked away.

“The Blue Man Group is here for the Inhumans?” Stark asked.

“Yep,” you confirmed, popping the ‘p.’ “So we’re here to ask for your help.”

“You need our help?” He gestured at the rest of the Avengers. “Our asses got handed to us when we went up against them. You went up against one, after a car crash, and you look… great.”

“Fine, then we’ll help you. But first, we need to make a deal.” They nodded at you to go on. “We help you to get rid of the Kree, and afterwards, you leave us alone.”

“You know we can’t do that,” Steve said.

“Then we’ll take down the Kree, without you. The public will see that the Avengers can’t handle a couple of Kree Reapers…”

“Is that a threat? It feels like a threat.”

You shrugged. “It’s my people being targeted. It’s my people who are going to fight before the fucking Kree hurt someone.” You gestured to your group and turned to leave.

“Wait!” You turned back around. “Wait,” Loki continued. “Don’t leave. I accept your offer. You help us against the Kree, and we will leave you alone. Just don’t leave. Please.”

“Slow down there, Reindeer Games,” Stark stepped in. “You’re the last person to make decisions for this team.”

Loki glared at him and then reluctantly turned to his brother for back up.

“Well, I suppose we could think about the offer a bit longer,” Thor said slowly. “Get into the details of the agreement.”

You didn’t have more fucking time. The Kree could strike at any moment.  You had to act now, so you would. There was no point in more arguing though.

“Fine, you take all the time you need.”

“But the Kree will—” You shot a sharp glare at Max to quiet him.

“Take all the time you need to figure out all of the terms and conditions of our agreement. Meanwhile, I will go back home and—”

“You can stay here. In the compound. Everyone else too”

Everyone looked at Loki, now. A mixture of glares and shocked stares on everyone’s faces. You cocked your head and studied him.

“Again,” Stark sighed. “Last person to be making decisions.” Then he looked at your small group. “But I guess we can find some space for you guys.”

“One problem,” Max spoke up. “We don’t have any of our stuff with us.”

“I think that clothes are the least of our worries,” Izzy snorted.

“I was actually talking about our weapons. But thanks for reminding me about the clothes, I guess.”

“Fine. We’ll stay with you here in the compound,” you crossed your arms as a small smile crossed Loki’s face, “but if more of my people want to seek shelter with me, they come here.” Stark thought for a moment before he shrugged and nodded his permission. “We have to do something first. We just need to get our things from my place,” you rushed to say when everyone’s eyes narrowed. “If it makes you guys feel better, someone can chaperone.”

That’s how you ended up packed into the elevator headed up to your penthouse. When you had said that someone could chaperone, you were thinking of one, maybe two at maximum, Avenger. Not four of them.

The goddamned supersoldiers should have taken the stairs up to the top, they took up a lot of space. The billionaire had been pressed into the back corner. The other people in the elevator were your little group and the Black Widow. It wasn’t the smallest elevator but everyone made it seem smaller by giving the red-haired assassin a wide berth.

You couldn’t help but lament the fact that Loki hadn’t volunteered to go with you. Why the fuck hadn’t either of you thrown yourselves at the other yet?

The elevator let out a pleasant chime as the doors slid open and everyone spilled out with a sigh of relief. The members of the Avengers looked around as your friends went off to their respected rooms. You went up to your room and pulled out a suitcase.

Guns, knives, and other various weapons went in first followed by contact information. Then you covered those with some clothes that you picked with careful thought. You grabbed a few more ‘essential’ objects before heading back down.

You found Tony, everyone had insisted on being a first name basis, by your ceiling to floor windows. You stood next to him and soaked in the view. The nighttime New York was sparkling with activity.

“You know,” Tony began. “I think I tried to buy this place once. Well, this building.”

“I’m not surprised. It’s in an amazing location and I got it for a great price. Not much was nearby when I first got it, but I saw the potential for the nearby area and the building. Now it’s worth almost triple to what I bought it at.”

“Who would’ve known a hitwoman knew so much about real estate? Of all the fucking things,” Tony laughed.

“You have to know a lot of random stuff when you’re in this business. Plus,” you shrugged, “you pick up a lot over the years. Patterns and all that.”

“So since you brought it up, sorta, how… long have you been around?”

“Haven’t you learned that it’s rude to ask a woman her age, no matter how you phrase it,” you laughed before looking at Tony. “He didn’t tell you?”

“Who? Steve? No, he didn’t tell us too much about you. He has more secrets than he lets on.”

“No, not Steve. Loki. Loki didn’t say anything about me?”

“Loki? He definitely has a lot of secrets.”

“He said something to me.” Steve walked up behind you.

“Haven’t you learned that it’s rude to eavesdrop?” You raised a playful eyebrow.

“What? Why would Loki, of all people, talk to you, of all fucking people, about (Y/N)?”

“Don’t ask me.” The blond supersoldier shrugged. “But he also asked me not to tell anyone else, albeit in a cryptic way. I don’t want to, one: break his trust, and two: get on his bad side, so you’re not hearing anything from me.”

“You’re useless.” Tony deflated.

“You know I could tell you. Loki doesn’t control what I tell people. It’s my story too.” You smirked when your new friend looked at you hopefully. “‘Could’ being the imperative word.”

“Useless!” The billionaire exasperatedly threw his hands in the air. “Everyone is so fucking useless.”

“Hey, now,” Natasha’s voice was dark but her eyes sparkled. “Not everyone.”

“Yeah, I think it’s just you,” Bucky joined.

“What did we miss?” Liam emerged from a hallway with his bags to find everyone laughing. Max and Izzy appeared next to him, their bags in hand as well.

“Oh, nothing important,” you smiled and eyed their bags. “So I don’t think we have enough space in one car for everyone and everything. I’m thinking we split the bags. The Avengers can take these,” you pushed a few bags towards them, “and the car we arrived in. We’ll take these bags in one of my other cars.”

“Okay,” Bucky said slowly and picked up a bag.

“If it makes you feel better,” you sighed. “We’ll go first and you can tail us.”

“What, in case you decide to bolt?” Natasha placed her arms on her hips.

“Considering we’re the ones who came to you,” you mimicked her stance. “We won’t make a run for it.”

She stood still for a moment and then nodded. Everyone piled into their assigned cars and you took the lead out of the city and back to the compound. The sun was starting to rise, painting the sky pink and orange.

“Alright, listen up,” you announced to the passengers in your car. “I have people all over the country, the world, keeping an eye out for the Kree.”

“What happens when we find them?” Max asked.

“If the Avengers thought out the ultra specific terms and conditions by then, we will attack the Kree with all of our forces.”

“And if they haven’t refined all of the details?” Liam prompted.

“We’ll attack the Kree with all of our forces, just, you know, in secret.”

“Great plan.” Izzy rolled her eyes. “Go behind the Avengers’ back.”

“Listen, I have a plan,” Max said. “If they haven’t come to an agreement yet, tell them if the situation arises. Pressure them into getting what you want.”

You mulled over the idea. In Max’s version, the Avengers wouldn’t hold anything against you, as much. But they would probably still slow you down.

“Fine,” you grumbled and saw your right hand man begin to beam out of the corner of your eye. “But everyone has to be on their best behavior so that it’s easier to sway them to our side.”

The gates to the compound opened for you and the tugging feeling resumed. Would it ever go away?

Everyone found their way to their rooms for an early morning nap. It seemed as if the whole compound was asleep so of fucking course, you remained awake. Partially because of the strong tugging and partially because of your bad luck.

To pass the time, you went through your emails and tried to create a timeline of the Kree’s activity. Your eyes were tired, but you hadn’t felt any hints of sleep yet. You rubbed your eyes and when you opened them again, you were no longer on your bed.

Your hand was halfway to opening your door and the incessant tugging was the reason why. You groaned and forced yourself back to your bed. Maybe you should actually try to get some rest. You put your head on the soft pillow and closed your eyes.

“Even if it means your death?”

Agnes didn’t respond but instead looked at you with kind and trusting eyes. Ever since you climbed out of the hole in Puerto Rico, dirty, tear stained cheeks, and alone, your handmaiden was always by your side to support you. She gestured to the piles of books around your room.

“Have you found anything about him or your connection?”

“No,” you sighed. “There are only stories of the past and what I need is the future.”

Agnes was the only person you had told about Loki. She was the only person you could trust. When you told her your story, she didn’t call you mad. She didn’t question you or your sanity. Agnes was a smart girl and she had noticed the change that had come over you after Puerto Rico.

You nodded at Agnes and you left the room together. Guards instantly flanked to your side as you strode confidently to your carriage. You hid a flint and steel in your hand, knowing that Agnes did the same. A young squire caught your eye and inconspicuously tugged on his ear. He would be riding next to the carriage in front of yours while Agnes rode in the one behind you. This was a plan that had been in the making for months.

Halfway through your journey, shouts and the neighing of horses began to grow. That was your cue and you revealed your flint and steel, much to the horror of the high ranking nobleman who was sharing your carriage. You shot him your most intimidating queenly glare and he shrunk back into his seat.

It took a few tries to get a spark and it took a few sparks to really get the fire going. The nobleman screamed and tried to leave but the inferno had already blocked the door. Flames were creeping up your skirt as screams erupted from behind you.

Then you were running through the streets, away from the burning carriages. Turn left. Turn right. The burns and pains on your legs were fading.

The next thing you knew, you were in the hallway. You looked around and rubbed your eyes. The pulling sensation was still there and you were tired of it.

“Fucking hell.” You looked down at where it felt like the tugging was coming from. “Fine, you fucking win.”

You followed the feeling and found yourself standing in the entrance to the living room. The only person inhabiting the space was the reason for the tugging. Loki sat alone, his attention was fully focused on his book, or so it seemed. You would think he would be able to feel the same tugging.

“So,” you cleared your throat and fiddled with your fingers. “It’s been a while.”

“I suppose it has,” he mumbled, eyes still on the book.

“It’s good to see you.”

“Yeah.”

“How have you been?” Irritation crawled up your spine when he turned the page.

“Fine.”

“How’s the goddamned book?”

“Alright.”

“Can you please look at me?”

“No.”

“What’s wrong?” You crossed your arms and glared at the raven-haired god. 

“Nothing.”

“Right,” you snorted. “Because answering all of my questions with some one word bullshit means nothing’s wrong.”

“Do you have a problem?” Loki finally looked up from his fucking book.

“Yeah, right now I do have a goddamned problem. With you.”

“Me?” The son of a bitch had the fucking audacity to look shocked. “What did I do to piss you off?”

“Don’t act like a fucking dumbass, Loki. It doesn’t suit you. And you want to know why you’re pissing me off?” You gestured angrily with your hands. “Because just last fucking night, you were practically begging me to stay here. In the compound. With you. Now you’re avoiding me and acting like we don’t have a fuck ton of problems to work out.”

“Let’s think back to where the problems started in the first place,” he replied coldly. “Who severed the connection? Who married another fucking man? Who made me believe I had no soulmate?”

“What the fuck are you talking about? Are you seriously blaming me for that? You think I had any power over any of those fucking things? Every fucking thing you just mentioned, I had no goddamn say in.” You took a deep breath and quelled the burning rage inside of you. “Actually, I do know why you’re avoiding me. I know why you’re blaming me for things I couldn’t control.” Your eyes met. Both pairs were stone cold but hiding something beneath them. “It’s because you’re the one who left first.”

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Tags: @kaithehero @liliannyah @andreasworlsboring101 @oatballsoffury @aberrant-annie @simplybree @adalina-perez @emage-king @yandereforyou @notactiveonmain @tvdplusriverdale @inmyowncorner​

#inhuman #loki x reader #loki x soulmate reader #loki x hitman reader #loki #steve rogers #captain america #bucky barnes #the winter soldier #natasha romanoff #black widow #iron man #tony stark #marvel #mcu #soulmate au #au

[hamiltalian-creates]

Wine Mom Dadceit, Pt 2

Summary: Janus takes his disaster children to the park. Two of them nearly attempt murder and the third meets a new crush friend. 

Pairings: Virgil x Remy, past Janus x Patton

Words: 2,080

Warnings: Misgendering / Attempted deadnaming (They don’t know his actual deadname)

As they pulled up to the house, Janus began setting out the rules for the quick stop.

“Both of you wear what you want to wear to the park and then wait for me in the living room. I’m going to be cleaning up the drinks that I was planning on enjoying earlier and mourning my hot bath.”

“You know, you can take hot baths during the week,” Virgil pointed out. “I mean, you do work from home a lot, aren’t you always saying that nobody can stop you from doing what you want when you work at home?”

Janus sighed and walked with the two boys into the house. “Virgil. The point of the hot bath is to relax away the stresses of the week. How can I do that if I’m working?”

Virgil turned to face him, staring his father dead in the eyes. “Dad, I love you, but if anybody else asks me why I’m so dramatic, I’m going to start writing these kinds of things down to quote back to them.”

“When you’re older, you will understand the importance of self care.” Sure, Janus made sure they knew the value of doing regular self care, but it wasn’t the same as doing self care regimens that were as extra as his own. “You’re going to look back at this conversation one day and realize that I know exactly what I’m talking about.”

Virgil shrugged and walked off, not very sure that he believed that as he went to his room, Remus darting to do the same.

Janus sighed and went to the bathroom, grabbing his water bottle on the way and pouring the drinks into it. They didn’t quite fill the water bottle all the way, so Janus filled the rest of it with orange juice and finished cleaning up the day that he’d previously planned, finding both Remus and Virgil waiting for him once he was done.

“Do I really have to go?” Virgil asked. “I will go back to dad’s and be on my best behavior.”

“Yes, you have to go. It’ll be good for you to go outside for once.” He grabbed his parasol and Remus’s leash, just in case. “Come on, Remus isn’t complaining.”

“Remus doesn’t mind human contact!”

“I want to climb the swing sets!” Remus said, running over to cling onto Janus’s legs. “And the kids are all stinky!”

Janus peeled him off. “No, you’re in trouble. If you so much as think about putting spiders in someone’s hair, it’s the leash for you.”

Remus pouted and followed him as they all walked outside and drove down to the park.

The second that they got there, Remus hopped out of the car and ran to the nearest playground, Janus sighing as he watched. “Well... At least the car was parked this time.”

“I can literally just stay in here the whole time,” Virgil said. “Please.”

“Nope. We’re just going to walk around, you can wear your hoodie, god forbid I make you expose your whole arms to everyone.”

Virgil huffed and got out of the car with Janus, pulling up his hood as he join his dad under the parasol.

“Virgil, I respect that you want nobody to recognize you ever, but aren’t you a little hot in that?..”

“I wouldn’t be if you’d let me stay home.”

Janus rolled his eyes. “I want you to learn a lesson about what happens when you tape children to walls, but I don’t want you to overheat.” Even Janus had switched out his usual long sleeved button up for a t-shirt. It wasn’t particularly hot, but Virgil wasn’t particularly used to being anywhere without air conditioning.

“Fine... I’m going to leave my hoodie in the car, only because my shirt has long sleeves.” Virgil went and sat in the car as he took off his hoodie, glad that this particular purple shirt wasn’t too worn out.

“Isn’t that a little better?” Janus asked as Virgil joined him back under the parasol.

“No.”

Janus tutted. “You’re such a drama queen.”

Virgil shrugged and messed with his fidget cube as they began walking around. “Yeah, I get it from you.”

Janus smiled a bit as they walked. He didn’t particularly like forcing Virgil out of his comfort zone like that, but the poor kid had had a hard time making friends his own age, so it was pretty rare that he went anywhere that wasn’t school. It was tough to get him out during the week, so on the weekends where he took them back early, he made sure to take advantage of it.

About fifteen minutes into their time at the park, Janus was approached by one of the PTA moms from Virgil’s school.

“Oh my goodness, hi! It’s funny running into you two here. You’re the last people I’d expect to see out here, knowing Virgie,” she joked.

Janus faked a smile. He always at least attempted to be civil with any moms he didn’t already have beef with. “Virgil doesn’t do that well in social settings, I know I’ve said it time and time again. I just thought this would be quiet enough.”

“Well, where’s that other kid of yours? He’s always so.. Upbeat at the PTA meetings.”

Janus looked over at the playground where he last saw Remus and saw him running around like a normal kid. “He’s over there, just playing around.”

She looked over and nodded. “It’s good to make him get out all of that energy from time to time, isn’t it?”

“If it’s too much to handle, I guess that would be the best course of action, wouldn’t it?”  

She laughed, though it was pretty clear that she caught onto his passive aggression. “That reminds me, we haven’t seen dear Patty in a while. All of us other PTA moms have to look out for one another, after all.”

That was it. That was the last straw. “Virgil, why don’t you go sit with your brother? I think the two of us have a bit of catching up to do.” He pulled the beanie off of his head and gave it to Virgil, knowing that his son would be too nervous to draw attention with the parasol.

Virgil did not hesitate to take the beanie and leave. As much as he wanted to see his dad fuck someone up, he did not want to be in the direct path of any spilled blood. So, he went over to the playground Remus was at, playing with his fidget cube to distract himself.

Unfortunately, having his face down meant that he couldn’t see a basketball shooting straight for his face until someone caught it, inches from his nose.

“Woah, that was trippy. I mean, I, like, never can catch anything like that.”

Virgil glanced up, his face as pale as a ghost as he realized what had just happened. He almost just got hit in the face by a basketball and this unfortunately cute boy his age just saved him.

“Woah, holy eyeshadow.”

Okay, Virgil had seen enough. He was ready to die.

“I mean, that is an intense look and I’m kind of digging it,” he said as he threw the ball back towards the court. “Now that my jock phase is over, can I get a name? I’m Remy.”

As much as Virgil wanted to quietly walk away, this guy did save his face. “Thank you... I guess since you helped me, I’m Virgil..”

“Virgil, that’s a cute name. What’s a little vampire prince like you doing out here?”

Virgil laughed awkwardly. “I’m just here with my family, I guess...”

“You guess?” Remy asked, pulling off his sunglasses. “That’s a weird thing not to be sure about.”

Virgil shrugged and glanced over at the playground where Remus was at, trying to find him. “It wasn't my choice.. My brother likes it here better than-” Virgil cut himself off as he saw a kid knock Remus off of the playground, feeling himself fill up with rage. “Hey!” He immediately ran over and helped his brother off of the ground, clenching his jaw as he saw some scrapes on Remus’s face.

“It didn’t even hurt!” Remus insisted, though the way he was tearing up said otherwise.

Virgil looked up at the kid who’d knocked him down and glared. “You fucking brat,” he spat out venomously before turning his attention back to Remus. “What happened?” he asked much more softly.

“I told him I had three dads and he pushed me like a coward,” Remus explained through his tears.

“Fucking hell...” Virgil grumbled under his breath. “Come on, let’s go get dad.”  

“No, I’m fine!” Remus kept insisting, wiping his eyes. “Just let me get him back, I’m fine.”

“No, Remus... If I let you keep running around, dad is going to get mad at us both.”

“Hey, is he okay?” Remy asked as he walked up behind Virgil.

“I just have battle scars! I can fight that other guy!” Remus insisted. “I’m fine!”

Remy laughed and knelt down beside the two of them, pulling out a box of band-aids. “I’m, like, a serious clutz, so I carry these around all the time. Do you mind?” he asked Virgil.

“I.. Um... I mean...” Virgil was back to his normal, disaster gay self now that his initial anger wore off.

“I want a band-aid!” Remus said.

Remy smiled and gave Virgil a look, making sure it was okay with him.

Virgil just nodded.

“Well, I don’t see why you can’t have one,” Remy said as he pulled out a band-aid and put it on Remus’s face.

Virgil almost fainted as he noticed that it was a rainbow band-aid.

“Hey, it’s like the flag in Virgil’s roo-”

“Weren’t you going to go torment a child?”

Remus grinned widely as he got permission to do as he please and ran off, chasing down the kid.

“Pfft.. Kids, right?..” Virgil asked, trying to brush it off.

“Oh, I already knew you were gay,” Remy said matter-of-factly. “I saw you walking under a parasol.”

“That was my dad’s idea,” Virgil quickly insisted. “I mean.. Yeah, I’m gay...”

Remy smiled. “Knew it. Anyways, a little information about me: I’m gay, I have band-aids, I’m new in town.”

Virgil couldn’t stop himself from laughing at that. “John Mulaney..”

“It never fails,” Remy said, shrugging.

“What never fails?” Remus asked as he popped up behind them.

Virgil jumped and turned to face him, ignoring the handful of hair hanging out of his pocket. “How long have you been standing there?”

Remus shrugged. “We should go home before that kid’s mom sees that I took his hair.”

Virgil glanced between him and Remy and Remus seemed to catch on quickly.

“Ooh! He’s a homosexual and Virgil’s the homo!”

“Remus!”

Remy quickly stepped in, though this time, it was his turn to start blushing. “So, my brother probably knows that I’ve escaped my grounding by now, do you have a phone number that I can get for my trouble?”

“Uh- Yeah! I mean...” Virgil searched his pockets. “Yeah, but I left my phone in the car...” He checked his back pockets and found his eyeliner pencil. “Would this work for you?..”

“Yeah!” Remy gladly rolled up his jacket sleeve. “Mark me up.”

Virgil nodded and moved to grab Remy’s arm, hesitating as he realized it meant direct physical contact, which he wasn’t too sure that he was ready for.

“Come on, I don’t bite. I, uh.. I kind of feel like that’s your brother’s job.”

Remus smiled proudly.

“Right, yeah, I know that,” Virgil said awkwardly. As quickly as he could without making it seem like he was trying to get away from Remy, he grabbed his arm and wrote his phone number down.

“Great! I’ll text you later if my bro doesn’t chew my head off. I just seriously needed to get outside after all that unpacking.” He got up and grabbed his box of band-aids again, giving a few more to Remus. “You do you, little buddy.”

“Thank you!” Remus took them and immediately began putting them on random spots on his arms and legs.

Remy chuckled and looked back at Virgil one more time. “I’ll talk to you later..”

Virgil nodded and watched as he walked off, thankful that Remus wasn’t making the obvious joke.

Instead, his brother sat down beside him and let him be gay in peace.

Unfortunately, his father didn’t get the memo.

#sanders sides #fanfic #fan fic #fanfiction #virgil sanders #remus sanders #janus sanders #ts virgil #ts anxiety #ts remus #ts janus #ts duke #ts deceit #deceit sanders #sleep sanders #remy sanders #sleepxiety

[cake-writes]

Breathe (Lecture 1)

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Story Warnings: Slow Burn, Angst, Fluff, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, Mixed Delivery (Social Media & Written Parts), Eventual 18+

Summary: Bucky takes a history class at his local university in hopes of catching up on the last few decades, on everything he’s missed whilst under Hydra’s control – but he winds up learning a lot more than what’s on the syllabus. He learns how to heal.

Written for @the-omni-princess​​’s 1k writing challenge!

(Formerly Hope & Happiness; I decided that I needed a better title!)

TAG LIST: OPEN

💛 This fic is interactive. Here’s how it works! 💛

So I took the time to find an actual university course to complement this story because I’m just that invested, you guys. (I’m also a huge history nerd, lmao.) The syllabus and lectures are real, and any content relating to these in my story is straight from the source.

Lectures are recorded and available for a listen! Most written chapters will correspond to a lecture; I’ll list which one at the top of the chapter if you want to learn along with Bucky. Each one is about 40-50 minutes long and in English. Click here to access them!

This is definitely optional, though, so please don’t feel pressured to listen, but if you’re a history nerd like me then you may want to take a look!

Wednesday, August 24

Lecture 1: Introductory Lecture

Although Bucky had been on campus a couple of times before now – first to apply, and then to meet with an advisor as all new students were required to do – he didn’t think he’d ever get used to the sheer size of it. Universities these days were massive: cities within a city, buildings upon restaurants upon shops and all he wanted to do was learn.

That was all he’d ever wanted to do, really. Learn about himself. Learn what made the world tick. Learn all the things he didn’t know. He’d always excelled in school, and once upon a time he’d started to save money in order to attend university. Didn’t know what he’d study – just knew that he wanted a degree in order to support the family he thought he’d have one day.

Ambitions for the future.

Then came the draft. Because hadn’t yet been able to save enough, he’d been shipped out to the European Theater – sent to hell, not to college.

Ambitions for the past.

Two years spent in cold, wintery foxholes gave him an opportunity to think, but all he could think about was the stench of death surrounding him, surrounding his unit, surrounding every waking moment of his life at war. Not his death, of course, but it may as well have been.

Bucky learned to hone in on the sound of his heartbeat in his ears, the rush of adrenaline in his veins, the sensation of his boots in mud and snow. He learned to focus. He learned to survive.

And all the while, he lived with the very real possibility that he wouldn’t make it through – and, well, he didn’t. Not really. Some parts of him never made it back; what little remained became the property of Hydra. Mind corrupted, soul shattered, will broken into sharp, jagged shards of glass.

Fragile. Breakable. Erased, but still alive.  

Bucky may have survived, but he’d never really been right since – never really been whole. Physically and mentally, with too many pieces of himself missing or damaged, one constant stayed the same: a desire to learn. He’d gotten through the war and Hydra’s harsh training because that quality was a part of him – one of the only parts that made it through.

Battle-worn and weary from surviving – not living, not really – Bucky finally had the opportunity to take a step back from the battlefield to just… exist. To live. To breathe. In taking a leave of absence, he embarked upon another journey: to rediscover the man he used to be.

It would be difficult task, he knew. The twenty-first century was far cry from the 1940s, a far cry from home, and the sheer size of the college campus only served to remind him of that. In fact, he was only able to recognize that he was still in New York because this school happened to be the very same one he’d once planned to attend so long ago. Staten Island University. Right across the bridge from his present-day apartment in Brooklyn, not to mention his old family home.

Home.

But this unfamiliar new century was his home, now, so he sought to learn what he’d missed over all the decades he’d lost to Hydra. In the process, maybe he’d learn about himself, learn what made the world tick, learn all the things he didn’t know.

What better place could there be to do that than at a university?

Bucky soon found out that his education would be paid for by the United States government for his service in the military. Ironic that the very barrier which forced him into war was the same thing being gifted to him now. The GI Bill. A reward for his patriotism. A thank you for his sacrifice.

Flowery words for a bribe meant to keep him silent. Call him jaded.

Worse still, if Bucky thought tuition was expensive back then, he didn’t know what to call it today. He’d been rendered speechless when he found out what a single class would cost, but rest assured, Uncle Sam would pay for it so that he didn’t have to.

Physically, it only cost him an arm but mentally, it cost him so much more.

U.S. Society and Politics Since 1945. Mondays and Wednesdays at two o’clock. Three credit hours, whatever that meant. He signed up for the class after his first meeting with an advisor – thought that it might do him good to put his past behind him and learn.

Bucky arrived about twenty minutes before the class was due to start, all nerves and first day jitters – absolutely ridiculous when he really thought about it, so he tried to put it out of his mind and selected a seat in the very back row in hopes of not being noticed.

Counting seats proved to be a good distraction. Three hundred seats. Would there really be that many students? Save for a handful of his new classmates scattered about, the too-large lecture hall seemed like it would never fill. Sure enough, however, it eventually started to – not all three hundred seats, but close enough.

It wasn’t until then that Bucky realized he might have been woefully unprepared. Just about everyone else had laptops sat out front of them, and while he could use one – clunkily – he still preferred something more a little more tangible. All he’d brought along was the required textbook, a notebook, and two pens, one of which he’d been rolling in between a gloved thumb and forefinger for the last few minutes. 

That was a nervous tic of his, one he’d picked up in the army, except today it was a pen instead of a cigarette and he sure could have used a pack of Lucky Strikes right now. A cigarette would have done wonders to take the edge off, but he didn’t smoke, not anymore. Frustrated, he dropped the pen back down onto his desk and slumped down in his chair.

Had school always been this nerve-wracking? He couldn’t remember.

A snort drew his attention, and Bucky glanced to his left to find you sitting a few seats down in the same back row, watching him in amusement. 

It caught him off-guard.

“Is this your first class?”

A innocent question, unprompted – untainted.

While Bucky knew that there would be some socializing required, especially in the discussion section of the class, never in his wildest dreams did he think that anyone would be willing to strike up a conversation with him. He had half a mind to say ‘no’ and ignore you as long as possible, but for whatever reason, he didn’t. He opened up.

“How could you tell?”

You shrugged. “You’re fidgeting, for one. But mostly because you don’t have a bag.”

Why would he need a bag? He was only taking one class.

At his doubtful look, you spoke again, voice light and airy, “Don’t worry. You’ll learn.”

Well, that was foreboding. Then again, you seemed like you would know. You looked slightly older than most of the other students who were likely fresh out of high school, and you appeared to be all sorts of prepared, what with a leather laptop bag on the chair to your right and some brightly-coloured notebooks, binders, and a few thick textbooks all strewn about the desk in front of you.

A laptop bag, but no laptop. Strange.

Bucky wasn’t really sure why he wanted to know, but he nodded to your books and asked anyway, “What else are you taking?”

“Mostly upper-level psychology classes. I’m in my final year. What about you?”

“This is my only class,” he admitted, and to him, that wasn’t a satisfactory answer. He was only taking the one class with no particular goal in mind, but here you were, taking at least four other classes judging by the number of textbooks on your desk.

You had a goal. 

He didn’t.

You didn’t ask why, though; instead, you offered him your name, along with a bright smile.

“Bucky,” he found himself telling you way too easily.

“Well, Bucky, it’s nice to meet you.” You paused, then, before you made an offhanded comment of, “I think it’s really good to have a friend in class, you know? Mostly so you can steal their notes when you skip.”

A joke, perhaps, but Bucky took it literally. That may have been the stupidest thing he’d ever heard. “I’m not gonna— Who pays thousands of dollars in tuition and then decides not to come?”

Your brows rose in surprise for a moment or two, but then you laughed at his stick-in-the-mud response. “Oh no, you’re one of those. What a goody two-shoes!”

Don’t worry, you’d said. You’ll learn.

But the mischievous sparkle in your eyes let him know that you were just teasing, and what’s more, he actually didn’t mind. No, he kind of liked it, having some normal human interaction for once – not whatever the hell he’d grown used to at the compound. Between blood-spattered banter in the field and too-dark humour used as a coping mechanism, his interactions there were anything but normal.

Bucky also liked that you had no idea how wrong your sentiment was; not that he’d never admit it. This was the first time in a long, long while that he’d been treated like a regular person – not enhanced, not a science experiment, not an Avenger – and he had no intention of shattering the illusion anytime soon.

“I’m not giving you my notes, either,” he deadpanned.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Super goody two-shoes. My mistake.”

When he opened his mouth to respond to your sassy one-liner, however, the professor’s voice sounded from the front of the lecture hall. You gave him a final wink before you turned to face the front, purple pen already poised and ready to go.

Good afternoon! Can you hear me in the nosebleeds? Yes? With me? Okay…

Forty-five minutes passed in a blink, and most of the students quickly started to pack up their belongings – but not you. No, you stayed in your seat and continued scribbling away at something in your notes, seemingly having zero plans to leave anytime soon. Bucky couldn’t help but be curious as to why you weren’t packing up, but it wasn’t any of his business and he didn’t ask.

Armed with a new syllabus and a daunting list of required readings for the week, he pulled himself to his feet and collected his own belongings; only managed to push the chair back in and take about two steps toward the door before he heard your voice again.

“Hey, Bucky, wait.”

He turned around to see you still reading through one of your textbooks, not even looking in his direction, but in your outstretched hand was a bright pink sticky note.

What?

“Come on,” still focused on your reading, you waved the post-it, pink paper flapping in the makeshift breeze but staying stuck to your finger anyway, “Take it. Here.”

Hesitantly, Bucky stepped closer and accepted the proffered note. Upon it, he found that you’d hastily scrawled your name and phone number, along with what he assumed was meant to be a smiley face. The drawing was god-awful, and a welcome distraction from the way his heart had immediately leapt into his throat because a woman had just given him her phone number.

Her phone number.

“Th— Thanks?” he stammered, unsure.

Now, he certainly wasn’t one to jump to conclusions, but this—

“Don’t get any weird ideas,” you interrupted his train of thought, finally pulling your eyes away from the textbook to look up at him. 

Gorgeous, glimmering, big doe eyes focused right on him, now, and seeing you up close like this, a fleeting thought crossed his mind about how attractive you were. He blamed it on the fact that you’d just given him your number, and now his brain only wanted to overthink what he’d interpreted as the first sign of potential interest from the opposite sex in – well, far too long. 

Bucky hadn’t been expecting that at all, and he wasn’t particularly interested to pursue such a thing, either. At least not right now. He still needed to get his head on straight; still needed to figure out his own problems before he took on someone else’s.

Even if you were a pretty little thing he might have taken dancing, once.

Then you added, “If you have any questions, just shoot me a text, okay? I remember how lost I was when I first started, especially because I’m a,” you did some air-quotes, then, “‘mature-aged’ student.” Another snort, one much less ladylike than before. “Mature-aged. I’m not that old!”

So it was a friendly offer. Nothing more. Not like the implications in the 40s – and Bucky thought, then, that if you were considered to be ‘mature-aged,’ he didn’t want to find out how he’d stack up.

“Thanks,” he said again, this time a little less unsurely. “I appreciate it.”

Another one of your bright smiles brought a sense of calm over him, a feeling that carried over even when you poked fun at him again, “Then I guess I’ll see you next week, Mr. Goody Two-Shoes.” 

“Yeah,” he responded, feeling the corners of his lips turn up just a little at your goodnatured teasing. “See you next week.”

And when he left the lecture hall, fluorescent pink post-it stuck to the inside of his notebook, Bucky’s footsteps felt just a little lighter than before – and so did his heart.

Part Two

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes #breathe