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sxfik · 2 years

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he’s earth and heaven to you (you can’t conceal it)

read on ao3 • main masterlist • law school masterlist

summary: Kang Sol A, just wants a one normal year. Just one year without some kind of explosion, or murder, or world ending event. Unfortunately, disaster has struck in the form of a 5' 11" insufferable, quidditch player and genius Han Joon Hwi and their friends who thought it was great idea to lock the two in a cupboard.

word count: 11.5k words

a/n: user niki is back at it with another au fluff/light angst fic because the solhwi brainrot never ends. this is the project i've been working on since finals and all throughout this time, but honestly planned so so long ago (like august 2021). i quite literally just started writing and then i blinked and it became like 11k so i hope yall enjoy this!! dedicated to my loves aki, anne, mika and jul because i literally planned this fic AGES ago with them and then never fucking wrote it because im a moron. (ilyyyy)

— end of sixth year —

PREFECT KANG SOL A wasn’t planning of ending her sixth year with a bang. She had her share of trouble in her first four years at hogwarts, trying to get rid of the corruption within the Ministry of Magic and saving her friend group from getting charged with various crimes. After a rollercoaster of a school career, she was hoping that she could just get her gingersnap cookies for a pleasant sleepover with the girls.

Clearly, the universe thought that she needed to go through a little more trouble to earn her happy ending. This time around, trouble came in the form of the most insufferable, egotistical, smug and arrogant boy she had ever met. And what’s worse? She’s currently trapped in a cupboard with him.

"Shh," the warm brown eyes of a certain Han Joon Hwi looked into her eyes when she opened her mouth to question him. His palm was smacked across her mouth, her eyes wide as she looked up at him, his face illuminated by the small light emanating from his wand.

There was only a couple inches of space between their bodies, the narrow broom closet barely having enough room to fit both of them. Most of the female population at Hogwarts would kill to be in her position, squeezed in a tight room with the most sought after boy at Hogwarts.

Well, Kang Sol A was decidedly not a part of that.

Han Joon hwi, in her humble opinion, was a menace. Not only was he one of the smartest wizards to grace the halls of Hogwarts, he was also a good sportsman, charismatic and overly kind. He was a loyal to his friend group, the self-named Maruarders, and even helped in her quest to uproot the corruption with in the Ministry.

One look at her list and you would say Well, he sounds like an amazing guy!

That precisely was the problem. He had everything in the palm of his hand: good looks, money and the golden child of a rich, pure-blood family where the Gryffindor legacy was prided above everything else. He got every single thing he wanted as soon as he set his sight on it.

Well, Kang Sol decided quite swiftly after he cracked a taunting smirk at her on the first day, that she would not be one of them.

“What are you doing here? It’s past curfew and you’re not supposed to be out walking here,” she whispered harshly, prying his hand off of her mouth and trying her best not to raise her voice like she desperately wanted to. She tried to ignore the warmth that bled from his body to hers, the way she can feel every tone of his well-built chest against her torso. His legs were firmly pressed up against her thighs, the cloth of his uniform pants and cloak soft against her legs.

Sol wasn’t sure what exactly about him got a rise out of her. She had met plenty of persistent boys back in the muggle world, but there was something about Joon hwi that made her fight back much harder than anyone else.

She often chalked it up to the fact that he was an arrogant, privileged boy, but if she was being truthful to herself, it was a lie. She knew, for some reason, that the issue lay somewhere within the quirk of his eyebrow, or the arrogant smirk on his face, or the infuriating gaze of his. It was as though they were designed to drive her insane, each gesture only driving her up the wall, and for some reason, it had her body itching to press up against his.

“I could ask you the same thing,” Joon hwi quirked an eyebrow infuriatingly.

“Well, I asked first!” she sputtered, trying to tamp down the flutter in her stomach when he looked down at her lips. As if realizing the position they were in, he shifted his body away from her, trying to flatten himself against the wall and in a moment of weakness, she almost whined in complaint.

“If I tell you, you also have to tell me what you’re doing here. Deal?” he asked, tapping his wand lightly to keep the dark room lit. Sol bit her lip as he stared down at her, trying to keep her thoughts straight as his dark eyes followed her every movement.

“Deal.”

“I was going to meet up with Ji ho to make some plans for a prank but then I saw Filch coming by so I hid in here,” Joon hwi explained, as he twisted to peak out of the sliver of an opening on the closet door, trying to make sure no one was in the corridor.

“A prank?” she yelled out, but her voice was quickly muffled by Joon hwi’s hand once more.

“Be quiet,” he gritted out, turn his head to make sure no one was walking by the cupboard. “A deal is a deal. Tell me why you’re here.”

“Whenever the house elves make gingersnap cookies for dinner, they always drop off a batch here for me and the girls,” she murmured out, her eyes cast down at her shoes rather than meet his eyes.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” Joon hwi smirked, leaning closer to her, if it was even possible to do that given how close they were already. “Wow, does Lady Justice run an illicit cookie ring?” he teased lightly, and annoyance grew in her throat as she looked up at Joon hwi’s smug face.

“I wanted some cookies, okay!” she said, exasperated. “They’re delicious and they always run out before I get my fill. Not to mention, I’m pretty sure you weren’t allowed to do any more pranks this year.”

“Sol-ah, you know as well as I do that the school needs at least a bit of levity during these times,” Joon hwi sighed, his expression growing solemn. “No one’s had a real laugh since, well. Since the threats from the beginning of this year.”

Sol only sighed in response. She knew he was right. After Assemblyman Ko’s removal from the ministry of magic in their third year, their survival at Hogwarts had been on the precipice of destruction. The threat of war loomed above them, and the fear had only gotten worse after the dementor attack on the train to Hogwarts at the beginning of the year.

Parents were worried about their safety, and rightfully so. Her mother had owled her, finally figuring out how to send one from the muggle world into Hogwarts, and begged her to stay home, especially after Kang Dan’s disappearance from Hogwarts in their second year. Her mother couldn’t stand to lose two of her three daughters, but Sol would hear none of it.

Hogwarts was her opportunity to move up in the world, secure a better future for her mother and Byeol. Her ambition was appreciated here, and for the first time, it felt like it was going to pay off. She poured herself in her studies for the past five years and damn her, she was going to graduate from Hogwarts as a full witch.

“Plus, if it makes you feel any better, it’s Bok-gi and Ye-beom leading it this time around, not me.” He sent her a weak smile, noticing how her mood had darkened.

Sol snorted. “That makes me more worried, not less. There’s a 90% chance things go wrong when they plan. At least when you plan it, there’s only a 75% chance,” she murmured.

“Oh, why thank you so much,” he grinned at her as she scowled in return. The grin washed off his face, as he looked down at her, his eyes holding an earnesty that Sol couldn’t bear to handle. “I trust you won’t report me for this?” he asked softly.

“Of course I won’t,” she sighed, giving in. As much as he rankled her, he was good for school spirit. “I know how much everyone needs a laugh right now,” she said quietly.

Sol tilted her head up to meet his gaze once more, and drew a sharp breath at his soft expression. For a moment, all she could think of was the boy in front of her, the way he smelled of rain, the quidditch pitch and clean parchment. The way his school shirt felt against hers, the way his tie was slightly askew.

Her eyes roamed the soft lightly tanned skin of his, almost radeint in the glow illuminating the cupboard, his warm chocolate eyes swirling with something earnest and true, something that made her want to shy away from his gaze. For a moment, she wanted to give in, to allow herself into his arms, before steeling herself in a reminder that she would not be the next trophy in his brilliant trophy case.

Kang Sol A was not a prize to be won.

“It looks like the coast is clear. I bid thee adieu, my lady,” Joon hwi winked, smirking at her as though the moment never happened, before he grasped the door to the cupboard and opened the door. Or at least, tried to open the door.

The door for some reason decided to get stuck, not budging an inch as Joon hwi fiddled with the handle. He stood there trying to move it with increasing force, before she interrupted.

“Move aside, I’m sure a spell will work better,” Sol bumped into him as she pulled out her wand, barely able to move without being pressed against him more than she already was.

“Alohomora,” she cast, the white light emitting from her wand. “Now try it,” she gestured to the door. Joon hwi went to jiggle the handle once more, and was met with failure again.

“Here, let me try,” he said as he pulled out his own wand.

“I can’t believe you’re questioning my skills,” she scoffed, crossing her arms but moving out of the way for him to have a go. It’s no secret that Han Joon hwi was the best of their class, but still stung that he assumed she couldn’t even cast a simple spell.

“I’m not trying to-”

“Yeah, yeah,” she cut him off with a look of annoyance, “Just try it.”

His jaw clenched slightly, the familiar tick of his muscle showing through as he stared at her for a moment in irritation, before twisting back to the door. Flicking his wand in the perfect formation, he cast the same spell, and in a glimmer of hope, the door creaked open, only to be slammed shut with a red glow.

“What in merlin is wrong with this door?” he cursed out, yanking at the door knob. He tucked his wand into his cloak and attempted to throw his weight into it, trying to force it open, with no such luck. Sol only watched as he struggled, the furrow growing between her eyes as she watched Joon hwi put his might into it.

“Having fun in there?” a deep, familiar voice rang out from behind the door, mirth cloaking his voice.

“Ji ho? What the hell?” Joon hwi questioned, a furrow forming on his forehead as he stared confused at the door.

“It’s not just him, give me some credit as well,” a feminine voice answered in place of Ji ho’s.

Sol’s eyes widened in recognition. Kang Sol B.

“What in merlin?” Sol A hissed, before Joon hwi could get a word out. “Get us out of here!”

“No,” Sol B’s level voice replied.

“No?” both Joon hwi and Sol A chorused in confusion.

“We’re tired of listening to you to complain about each other all year,” Ji ho replied nonchalantly.

“So instead of telling us that, you decided to lock us in here?”

“Yes. The only way this resolves is if you two actually talk to each other, instead of us,” Sol B’s calm voice replied, the level cadence that once used to sooth Sol A turning into a taunt. Almost as though she’s challenging her to face the truth. Truth? The truth is that Sol resented Joon hwi. Nothing more, nothing less.

“Oh, and don’t even try to use magic. The charm on this door only wears away if the two of your actually reach a resolution. Try not to kill each other!” Ji ho chuckled at the end, clearly satisfied.

Sol strained her ears for more, trying to figure out if either of her so-called friends were still out there, only to be met with the sounds of their footsteps getting further and further from them.

“Merlin, I regret letting Ji ho borrow books from my uncle’s library,” Joon hwi ground out, shutting his eyes in regret.

“Huh?”

He let out a sigh. “Before my uncle died, he used to collect a lot of charms books. It was his specialty you know,” his paused, an emotion passing his face that was tinged with regret, and anger and something more.

Sol, despite avoiding Joon hwi with all her heart, considered herself pretty good at reading what he felt. Call it a sixth sense, but she was always aware of him, his movements, every slight change in his behavior. Still, it was hard to pinpoint what Joon hwi felt about his uncle, even though she was well aware of Joon hwi and his uncle’s rocky relationship after begrudgingly defending him in the defamation case.

She just nodded along, urging him to continue with his thoughts.

“We used to raid his book collection and I allowed him borrow books about emotion-based charms. It can detect and evaluate the emotions of either the user or the people it’s casted on,” he explained to her.

“That makes sense. Plus, Sol B is a goddess at engineering new spells so with both of them working together...” Sol trailed off.

“...It would have been a simple spell,” Joon hwi finished for her. A beat of silence passed.“Honestly, we should regret getting them together more than anything,” he let out a soft laugh.

“Well, I clearly recall that being your idea,” she huffed.

“As if. Don’t tell me you weren’t tired of watching them compete with each other and then pretend they weren’t hooking up!”

“They were hooking up that whole time? I didn’t know that,” she said, confused. Sol B and Ji ho’s relationship was always special, but Sol B was her best friend. She would know if Sol B was with Ji ho before they started their relationship, right?

“You didn’t?”

“No,” she blinked, confused.

“Did you never notice how they regularly wore each other’s ties? Or the time they turned in each other’s charms essays?”

Sol blinked, thinking back to fifth year, trying to sort through her memories for what Joon hwi was talking about, only to come up blank. Most of what she could remember was fighting against the Ministry of Magic, being increasingly annoyed at Joon hwi’s every move, and spending intense study nights at the library.

“So...” he trailed off.

“So?”

“You’ve been talking about me?” he smirked.

“Oh, don’t flatter yourself. It’s more like complaining if anything.”

“All I’m getting from this is that you talk about me,” Joon hwi sang, a wide smirk across his features.

Sol clenched her jaw, pursing her lips at the annoyance unfurling in her chest. See, this was what always happened. As soon as they were getting along, or having a normal conversation, he’d tease or poke or worst of all, ask her out.

“Right, well is there any way in those books of your uncle’s to short circuit the system?” she asked, twisting to the door even though she knew it wouldn’t budge.

”What?”

“You know, try to trick it,” she waved her hand around frantically, trying to gesture to the door. All she really wanted were her cookies, and instead she was trapped in having to ‘resolve’ their issues.

“You’d rather try to trick the spell than I don’t know... try to actually work this out?” he looked at her incredulous.

“Let’s be honest, why would that ever happen?” she blurted out, the words flowing out before she could stop herself. She didn’t mean it, but it was easier to snap at him than have an actual conversation.

A conversation was a chance, a glimmer of hope that Sol could like the boy, or worse, fall in love with him. But she knew, out of a sense of preservation for herself and him, that even the notion of something more between them was dangerous news.

Joon hwi blinked, a hint of shock crossing his face and Sol felt the instant regret flood her body.

“Look if this is about punching Yeong-chang in our fifth year, I’m sorry for what I did after but I don’t regret punching him,” he started. “I know you think I’m a git, but I watched him use an unforgivable on Ye-Seul and I just—”

“No... I-” Sol quickly cut him off, stumbling to find the words, “No, I’m not angry over that. I... I was angry at the time, but you were right. And the only reason I’d ever be angry over that is because I wasn’t the first to hex him.”

“Then why do you hate me so much?”

“I don’t hate you.”

“No? It sure feels like it.”

“I don’t hate you,” she said softer, looking into his eyes with as much earnestness as she could muster. “I disliked you because you asked me out.”

“You hated me because I liked you?” he asked, confused.

“I’m angry because you didn’t even consider how it would affect me when you asked me out,” she continued, pointedly ignoring the word hate, because she didn’t hate him. Resent? Sure. Dislike? Yeah. But never hate. “I don’t think you understood what I faced when I rejected a pureblood like you.”

Realization struck his face faster than Sol could process, Joon hwi’s features contorting to regret. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize—”

“It’s fine. Really, other than a couple girls, it wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle. But, asking me out, even if it was a joke, made the rejection even harder on me. And after the Ye-Seul fiasco in our fifth year, she got pulled into it with people whispering that you ‘dumped one piece of trash for another.’”

“What?” he asked, outrage thrumming through his voice. “Who?”

“It doesn’t really matter now, it’s over Joon hwi. No one says anything like that anymore, don’t worry.”

“I can’t believe-” he started, running a hand through his hair desperately as he looked up at her, trying to calm himself down.“I’m so sorry Sol. If I had known I would have intervened, and I’m sorry that I didn’t even consider what you were dealing with.”

“It’s okay,” she sighed. “It’s how it is, you know?” she said with a weak smile.

“It shouldn’t be. There shouldn’t have been a question of your blood status at all, Sol. Ever.” his voice determined. “And I’m sorry that I acted so entitled that I didn’t consider the consequences.”

“You weren’t—”

“Yes, I was. It was unfair to act like that, even if I liked you. It was inexcusable and I’m very sorry.” he rushed out, cutting her off. “And for the record? None of the times I asked you out were a joke. But, I understand that you only consider me as a friend and I promise that I won’t ever ask you out again,” he finished firmly.

Sol opened her mouth slightly, before closing it. This was what she wanted right? Then why did it hurt so much? Sol cleared her throat instead, deciding to not to think too hard about it.

“Sounds good. Friends?” she stretched out a hand for him to shake.

“Friends,” he said almost like he had trouble believing himself, grasping her hand and shaking it. She could feel the roughness of his palms against hers, his hands worn down from thousands of quidditch practices. His hands were big, engulfing hers even in a handshake, and it felt so electric as the warmth passed from his fingers to hers.

She stood looking into his warm brown eyes, a feeling of warmth and comfort spreading through her chest as they stood with their hands in each other’s grasps, just observing each other in silence. She had no clue how long they were stood like that, and if you asked her, she could have stood there just watching him forever.

It was nice, a moment of peace, of something passing between them and all she wanted to do was freeze this moment and live in it forever. A world where they got along, that they could even have a friendship. Maybe even more than a friendship, a small voice in the back of her mind echoed, which she quickly silenced.

Friends. That’s all. Only friends.

The moment was disrupted by the sound of a click, a low glow illuminating the cupboard door breaking their concentration. The door moved, the magic glowing through the wood as it was slightly ajar to let in the light from the hallway.

Silence enveloped the room as they looked at each other, as Sol brought her hand back from his grasp. Sol was stood still in the cupboard as she watched Joon hwi gather his cloak around him, his eyes still on her as he moved towards the doorway of the cupboard.

“Hey?” she asked out.

His head turned to her, his expression almost neutral.

“Make this prank the best Hogwarts has ever seen,” she smiled softly.

“I’ll see what I can do.” Joon hwi cracked a wide, honest grin, before shrouding himself under his cloak, and disappearing into the passageways of Hogwarts.

The next day, Sol walked into the great hall, only to be met with the sight of three girls, absolutely drenched in saltwater, with more buckets of water threatening to spill at any moment, floating above their heads.

And if they were the same girls that had tormented Kang Sol A, no one said a word about it, as Sol silently uttered the incantation to undo the curse, feigning ignorance at who pulled this off. She refused to even question how he found out who they were as she sat down for breakfast, pushing the thoughts to the side when she saw the gingersnap cookies and a whole assortment of food already picked out for her on her plate.

Sol’s head snapped up to catch Joon hwi’s eye down the bench and he tipped his goblet towards her, grinning widely. She smiled back, raising her goblet in solidarity and for some reason Kang Sol couldn’t help but feel something monumental had changed between them.

— seventh year —

WHEN HEAD GIRL KANG SOL A entered Hogwarts for her seventh and final year, she was hoping it would be uneventful. After spending her first four years trying to oust the corruption that plagued the wizarding world, she was hoping for a year with normal teenage girl problems. But the one teenage girl problem she did not wish for was realizing she was head-over-heels in love with the smartest (and hottest) guy of their year, Han Joon Hwi.

If you asked her friends Ye-Seul and Sol B, the realization was long overdue. After Sol B and Ji ho trapped them in a cupboard together, and forced her to talk to Joon hwi, it felt as though their friendship was on a better path. The last month of her sixth year was more than pleasant, finally being able to merge the Marauder group with her circle of friends.

It was the best summer to date after Joon hwi invited the whole group to spend two weeks at his house (or mansion as she calls it). They spent it relaxing, getting to know each other and it ignited a twinge of regret in Sol after realizing that Joon hwi could have been her best friend if she had just given him a chance.

After the getaway, both of them were constantly owl-ing each other, trying to keep in touch and update each other on anything they missed. Joon hwi even used the floo network, despite the uncomfortableness, to visit her in the muggle world, where she spent the weekend trying to explain all the muggle traditions scattered around the town.

This, of course, meant that Joon hwi was the star of each letter that she sent to Sol B or Ye-Seul, so much so that Sol threatened to break her quill if she ever talked about Joon hwi again.

“First, you wouldn’t shut up about how much he annoyed you, now you won’t shut up about amazing he is.” Sol B wrote back after she sent her fourth letter detailing her adventures with Joon hwi.

But for some reason, the idea that she was in love with the boy she chronically rejected had only clicked in her mind after she spent the last week of summer lamenting how she couldn’t have more time with Joon hwi. It was laughable at first, especially when she spent her first couple of years avoiding and hating the insufferable, annoying, gorgeous, and attractive Joon hwi, simply because he had everything in the palm of his hand.

Sol now realizes that all she did for the first three years was deny herself the opportunity to build a friendship with a brave, kind-hearted boy. The kind that wouldn’t judge anyone for their background. The kind that was humble and endlessly forgiving. The kind that would mountains for his friends. The kind that would move mountains for her.

So obviously, when one realizes they are in love with the former bane of their existence, the most sensible option is to avoid the hell out of them

Much to her chagrin, the universe had other plans.

She was standing on Platform 9 3/4, a heavy suitcase in each hand, thrumming with excitement and anticipation for the year ahead. She had gotten her shiny head girl badge in her letter from Dumbledore, alongside a small quip that she would be excited to be working with the head boy this year.

A disheveled Joon hwi approached her, not a moment later, running his hands through his hair repeatedly, a nervous habit of his that Sol had come to learn. His hands were tracing patterns onto the pants of his school uniform, as he stood in front of her, before shooting her one of his patented grins.

“Alright, Sol-ah?” he asked, his face alight with joy as he looked at her, and his grin made Sol wonder how she resisted falling in love with him earlier.

Before Sol could properly greet the boy, he had already picked up her luggage, silently taking the load off of her and helping her carry it towards the train. She smiled gratefully at him, before following behind in peaceful silence. Well, as silent as it could be with hundreds of first-year students nervously boarding the train as if they were walking towards their deaths.

“Sol, I have to tell you something,” he started as he set her suitcase into the luggage compartment on the train, running his hand through his hair again, causing it to only look more attractive. Her hands itched to run her fingers through his hair and dishevel it for him.

“Actually, let me just show you,” he sighed, and Sol focused back on him. He dug into the pocket of his cloak, while Sol looked at him with curiosity and confusion etched on her face. He produced something shiny, the light glinting off the edge. The head boy badge.

“I know this is the last thing you want, and I swear, I think Dumbledore has gone a little crazy, but if you want me to I can–”

“You are not going to trade in the badge Joon hwi, are you kidding?” Sol laughed, her face incredulous. It’s true, she couldn’t stand him for the majority of their schooling but she assumed that he understood it changed this summer. “You’ll make a great head boy and I’m glad that I’m working with you.”

“But I wasn’t even a prefect,” he tried to argue.

“So? You already show responsibility by balancing schoolwork, being one of the youngest Quidditch captain who has brought home three of the cups, and having fun while doing it,” Sol argued back.

Joon hwi relaxed, the tension in his shoulders easing up as she smiled softly at him. “Well, on to a wonderful last year eh, head girl?”

“Can’t wait head boy,” she grinned fully at him, and for a moment she forgot that she was standing in a busy train station surrounded by passengers hurrying to their trains. At that moment, all she could focus on was the boy in front of her. The boy with the disheveled hair, and the relaxed stance.

Many of the older students shot them bewildered looks as they made their way onto the train, whispers going around about how Sol A, who wouldn’t give Joon hwi the time of day, was seen spending time with him, willingly.

She underestimated how easy it was to be friends with him, to enjoy his companionship. Conversation flowed so naturally with him, but there was never a pressure to be entertaining as she felt with so many others. With him, Sol could be herself, tell him about the mundane things that happened in her life, as well as the big moments.

The prefects’ meeting in the head compartment of the train went smoother than ever, with many of the students left confused as to when Joon hwi and Sol A changed their tune about each other. Especially after notable incidents where Joon hwi started her infamous ‘Lady Justice’ nickname and she told him to go snog the giant squid.

Still, this added a complication to her initial plan to avoid him at all costs, but she thought it wasn’t too much of an issue to plan around. Kang Sol A knew that it just meant that she would have to patrol, make rounds schedules, and plan the annual dances for Hogwarts with him. They’d have plenty of time apart where she could get over this little crush of hers, right?

It wasn’t until she was stepping off the train and onto the school grounds that she realized that she was set to share the head dorms with him. Which meant that she would see him every time she stepped outside of her room. He'll be there in the common room practically every day, studying or goofing around, and she’ll have to share a bathroom with him.

Essentially, it would become impossible to avoid him.

When she expressed her catastrophic situation to her friends, who she had assumed were loyal to her, they were not sympathetic to her cause. Kang Sol B had let out a bark of laughter, followed by a smug look that had all but taunted her. The usual sympathetic and caring Ye-Seul had settled on gently teasing her, making her face turn red with embarrassment.

Of course, Ji ho had smirked and murmured something about how this spared them from seeing the sexual tension they had with each other every day which Sol had swiftly responded with a rude gesture. And when Sol suggested that she all but move into her friend’s shared dorm, both of them rolled their eyes and told her to stop being so dramatic.

But after seeing the state in which Joon hwi would walk in after Quidditch practice, she had severely underestimated how dire her situation truly was.

He had mentioned that he had Quidditch practice when she ran into him in the common room as she was making her way to do the rounds for tonight, but assumed she wouldn’t see him since her rounds ran later than the practices. But Sol’s plan to run patrols with Bok-gi ended earlier than usual since it was almost the weekend. And since both of her close friends were out hanging out with their boyfriends, she had no choice but to write her Potions essay.

Well, she did contemplate annoying Sol B and Ji ho but only god knows what Ji ho and Sol B were up to in the library tonight, so she settled on just working.

(’Studying’ was the excuse Sol B gave when Sol asked what exactly they were doing. Of course, she never specified whether she was studying for exams or studying his body.)

So Sol reluctantly tucked in for the night on the sofa of the common room, stretching her legs out after the rounds, absentmindedly playing with her quill as she came up with topic ideas for her essay. She sat there working until her mind turned into mush before the door slid open, and Joon hwi walked through the threshold with his practice jersey on.

Correction: A very sweaty Joon hwi, clad in his jersey that was sticking to his body in a sinful way, chest heaving from exertion, walked in with his broom in one hand.

If her brain was mush before, it was absolutely melted at the sight of him. Sol knew she was staring, her jaw almost on the ground as she looked at the man.

Sol was a sensible woman. She liked quiet boys, ones that were smart and passionate. Ones that were calm and didn’t pull pranks at the great hall whenever given the opportunity. Boys who would spend their nights cooped up in libraries and bookstores.

It was simply unfortunate for her poor heart that Joon hwi all of that (minus the pranking streak), AND had the athleticism of a full Olympian.

Merlin, there was just something about Joon hwi after he played Quidditch that drove her crazy. There was something about the competitive glint in his eyes, the effortless way he ran and flew on the field, the hint of arrogance as he caught the snitch that made Sol’s heart race. The way his eyebrow would quirk up and all the bravado he held on the field. It was maddening.

Sol bit her lip slightly, her breath firmly lodged in her throat as she looked at him and her mind drifted away to imagine how he would look, running across the field doing practice drills, chest heaving, and watching his muscles flex and ripple as he exerted himself.

She cleared her throat as he approached, trying to appear as if she was focusing on her studies and not his body.

“How was practice?” she asked, cursing the breathless quality of her voice, as she sat up in her seat and set the quill down.

“It was pretty good,” Joon hwi cracked a grin at her as he made his way to her, and by merlin, he was more attractive up close. Sol thought her poor heart might give out, the slight sheen of sweat covering his tan skin making him glow in the light of the fire. His hair was slightly damp from the sweat and the humidity, gently tousled from the wind.

“Try out any new strategies this week?” she asked, trying to keep him in front of her as long as possible so she could stare at him for a little longer. He launched into an explanation of everything he was trying out with the team, his eyes animated, but her eyes were roaming around his body.

She would say she was embarrassed about how she wasn’t even paying attention to what he was saying, but then she noticed how his arms would flex and move as he stretched, and all the embarrassment was thrown out the window. Whoever made the quidditch uniforms sleeveless needed an award, and Sol was ready to personally deliver it to them.

Trying to appear like she was paying attention, she absentmindedly nodded along with whatever he was saying when in reality her mind was anywhere but near quidditch.

Sol had liked boys before but never before had she felt so hazy and unhinged in her desire. She desperately wanted to take that jersey off of him, run her hands down his arms, and spend all her time admiring it.

All she could think of was how it would feel to have his arms around her, the way his fingers would grip her waist. She wanted to throw him on the couch and sit on his lap; grind her hips in circles until he begged to be inside her. She wanted to drag her nails along his muscles, along his back, feel it ripple as he moved over her. Her thighs clenched instinctively thinking about the way his deft fingers would feel against her inner thighs, teasing her until she begged him to touch her.

She had to force herself to remember how to breathe as want built in her stomach, trying her best to not let the desired show to him. It’s just what she needs, for him to know how badly she wanted him.

Then, as though it couldn’t get worse, he lifted up the corner of his jersey to dab off the sweat from his face, revealing his perfectly toned stomach.

Sol felt her face heat up, as she gawked at the way his abs tensed slightly, and she was sure that he could tell just how much it affected her, seeing him in this state. She felt frozen in desire, want, and need taking over her body and she wanted to throw caution to the wind, have him on the sofa here and now.

“Sorry, I feel disgusting right now, I’ll talk to you after I shower,” he flashed a smirk, breaking away from his monologue with mischief in his eyes, as though he knew exactly what effect it had on her and god, the confidence made her swoon. If she had less resolve, she would volunteer to join him.

Merlin, she wished she had less resolve.

She dumbly nodded at him as she watched him walk towards their shared bathroom, not trusting her voice. Her eyes were on his figure as he made his way to their shared bathroom, tracing his body with her eyes. And then she watched as he peeled the jersey off himself, his back gloriously rippling as his arms stretched.

Sol swallowed hard, feeling herself gasp involuntarily as she watched every single muscle move in his back, still sweaty and glistening off the light. From that moment on, she vowed never to have scheduled rounds on Mondays and Fridays lest she misses out on all that gloriousness.

This became routine for her for the next month, claiming she had to study in their shared common room every time Joon hwi had quidditch practice. Of course, when she saw him come in to take a shower, she would distract him by asking him questions about Quidditch and his practice strategies just to get more time with him.

Of course, Joon hwi had the audacity to invite her to his practices after a couple weeks, apparently impressed with her newfound interests in sports. It was as though he was purposely making it worse for her.

As if watching him come in after practice was torture, watching him at practice was practically killing her. Every Monday and Friday she would drag herself to the pitch, with a bag full of homework that would never get done because her focus was more on the bright boy jogging across the field, instructing his players on drills and strategies.

Just watching him exert himself was alluring, but it was even worse when he took charge of the team. The cadence of his voice as he instructed them where to go, his voice almost commanding just did something to Sol. Worse were the moments he had the audacity to look up at her and flash that bright grin of his, oblivious to all the thoughts crossing her mind as she looked at him.

Needless to say, the number of times she touched herself to the thought of him only increased from then, trying to stifle her moans as she thought of him panting and moving his body in tandem with hers.

At the end of each practice, of course, he always had her wait outside the locker rooms near the pitch, where she would try desperately to avoid Ji ho’s teasing smile or the sarcastic remark he would make before Joon hwi came out. Joon hwi insisted on accompanying her back to their shared dorms, and the conversations were always more than pleasant.

There was something different to the mundanity of the conversations they shared. Despite only growing close this year, Sol was already so familiar with his mannerisms and habits that it felt like they were best friends for years. Sol could guess exactly what Joon hwi would say or do before he even did it, and the same went for Joon hwi.

To any outsider, their conversations seemed so mundane, but for them, there was nothing more to be said when they both knew each other so well. There was a lot more joy in sharing the smallest decisions and happenings with each other, because well, they already knew about every monumental event in each other's lives. It was a familiarity that Sol knew was special, and it didn’t take very long for her to realize that she loved him much, much deeper than just romantically.

Yet the need to confess to him wasn’t something insatiable that poured out of her. It was residing underneath her skin, lurking every time he looked at her for a beat too long or gave her a smile that just made her melt. It was something that she carried with her everywhere she went, filling up her body, but never enough to burst through the seams of her skin, always held in place by her fears and their future.

It was no secret that Joon hwi was the son of one of the oldest pureblood families and being so popular, there’s no doubt that he felt pressure to continue the pureblood line, even if he didn’t believe in any of it. And Sol? She was the daughter of a muggle-born family, her mother with barely enough money to make ends meet for her sister, and Sol was always scrambling to find her place after Kang Dan disappeared in their second year. Not to mention their lives were highly surveilled after going after the Ministry of Magic.

Whatever future they could have together, it was marred by a thousand different obstacles and risks. She knew, almost intrinsically, that Joon hwi loved her just the same. But taking the leap? Allowing herself to fall for him with no inhibitions was a luxury, so she stayed content having her as a best friend.

Her conversations about him with Sol B and Ye Seul, of course, reached a record high, as the two girls would roll their eyes. They made their way into Potions, the one class that the girls and the Marauders happened to share, trying to get there before Slughorn started class.

“I can’t decide if it was better when she hated him,” Kang Sol B deadpanned, clutching her book bag to the side as she strode confidently into class, speaking as though Sol A wasn’t right beside her.

“Hey, you brought this on yourself,” Sol A chirped back, “If you hadn’t locked us in that cupboard, we would have just hated each other.”

“Maybe we should lock you in that cupboard again, hope that you two snog each other, and get rid of this tension,” Ye-seul snorted, setting her books down beside Sol A.

Sol simply scoffed, taking her seat. “It’s not that bad,” she tried to justify, but of course Ji ho found that moment to chime in.

“Au contraire, my friend in deep denial, I’m pretty sure you were drooling when Joon hwi caught the snitch at practice last week,” Ji ho smirked as he walked by Sol A, his eyes glued to her best friend.

“I was not!” Sol denied her cheeks in flames.

“Oh? Let’s ask Joon hwi then?” Ji ho smirked as he slid into his seat, before twisting towards the doorway. “Oi, Prongs! Would you say Sol was— mmph!”

Before Sol processed, her wand was in hand, stood out of her seat and she had hexed Ji ho’s mouth shut before a word could leave his mouth. Ji ho quickly twisted to glare at Sol, but Joon hwi’s towered presence blocked her line of sight.

“Five points from Gryffindor,” Joon hwi announced, his eyes filled with mirth as he looked down at Sol. “Can’t believe the head girl would act with such misconduct.”

He looked especially handsome in the morning light, his brown hair tinged gold as the light filtering through the windows glinted off. He had a soft smirk on his face, and her breath was already lodged in her throat as she looked up at him.

“Shut it, or you can be next,” Sol warned, trying to not let his effect on her cloud her threat. “Should I reverse it?” she asked as she peeked behind Joon hwi to look at Ji ho’s annoyed expression.

“Mmph!” Ji ho nodded his head in the affirmative, as Ye-seul held back laughter.

“I don’t know... It is quite peaceful without his voice,” Joon hwi mused, smirking as he twisted to look at his best friend’s pleading figure.

“Alright that’s enough,” Sol B chimed in, pulling out her wand to undo the hex.

“Thank you,” Ji ho sighed, as he shot Sol B a thankful look, which the stone-faced girl smiled at.

“Traitor,” Ji ho muttered as he turned to glare at Joon hwi, who slid into the bench next to him. “Can’t believe you’d abandon me for a girl,” he scoffed.

“Sorry mate, it’s not my fault that Sol is way better looking than you are.”

“Lies. Ignorant and a blatant lie,” Ji ho replied. “I’m the prettiest one here, we can all agree.”

“I agree,” Sol B chimed in.

“You don’t count,” Joon hwi said. “Besides I’m pretty sure you locked us in that cupboard so you can get more time with Sol B in our dorm anyways.”

“No, we locked you in there for the noble cause of saving our ears from listening to you two complain about each other,” Ji ho replied, pushing up his wire-rimmed glasses.

“I mean it’s not any better now,” Ye seul mumbled, which Sol A quickly shot a glare at in reply. Before she could formulate a proper response, Slughorn cleared his throat, signaling the start of the class.

“Alright, alright, settle down please,” Slughorn’s voice carried through the room, as everyone scrambled to take their seat next to their partner. “As all of you are aware, one of the integral potions we will brew in your final year is Amortentia. Now, why is this potion considered dangerous? Yes, Ms. Kang,” he called out to the poised girl.

“It is considered the most powerful love potion in existence, and ingestion causes powerful infatuation and obsession. But, the scent of it is safe to inhale,” she answered.

“Good. Five points to Slytherin,” Slughorn nodded. “Now, what are the characteristics of Amortentia? Yes, Mr. Ko,” he pointed to Yeong-chang’s raised.

“It has a distinctive mother-of-pearl shine and spiraling steam, but the scent varies depending on the person. Generally, the scent is personalized to what or who the person loves,” he chimed in, but it was clear his eyes were flashing down to the textbook.

Sol A let out a small scoff. Cheater.

“And Yeong-chang will probably smell his girlfriend, the giant squid,” Ji ho sneered, and Joon hwi laughed alongside him, much to Yeong-chang’s glare.

“Five points from both Gryffindor and Slytherin,” Slughorn announced, disapproval tinging his words. “Mr. Han, Mr. Seo, I expect more from the two of you. And as this is your last strike, please switch partners with the bench next to you.”

Unbelievable. Slughorn was a favorite professor of Sol’s, but he was always unfair towards Joon hwi and Ji ho just because they didn’t excel at potions the way Yeong-chang did. Of course, the dear professor wasn’t aware that Yeong-chang cheated and faked his way through the class.

Joon hwi frowned as he slid in the seat next to Sol A, Ye-seul taking his place next to Ji ho.

“He’s being unfair,” Sol A mumbled as Slughorn continued his lecture. She could feel Joon hwi’s eyes on her as she gazed ahead, trying to put on the facade of paying attention to the lecture when all she could think of was the boy beside her.

“You can’t do much about it. Assemblyman Ko was one of Slughorn’s old sponsors and you know how he likes feeling like he’s in control of the powerful,” Joon hwi replied with a shrug. Silence fell over them once more as they listened to Slughorn instruct them on the process, but a part of Sol’s mind was always aware of his presence.

The warmth radiated off of him as Sol sat, side by side with her arm not even a breath away from his, and she noted every rise and fall of his chest as the boy trained his eyes on their professor. She could hear every inhale, see every expression and thought that crossed his face.

Honestly, it was a little annoying how aware she was of him. It was as though a part of her mind would always be occupied by him, what he was doing, what he was saying, what he was wearing. It was frustrating that so much of her life was consumed by him, but what could she do except to love him?

“With that, I’ll set you free to brew your own. Please be careful as this is a very advanced potion, and be diligent. Do not ingest the potion in any way,” Slughorn's voice was firm as he set them free.

Immediately the bustle of students erupted through the classroom, the sound of flipping textbook pages and the shuffling of feet towards the shelves of ingredients as students got busy brewing.

“I’ll get the ingredients?” Joon hwi asked.

“I’ll set up the cauldron,” Sol nodded in agreement as they split up, Joon hwi leaving their bench to gather their ingredients. Slowly, Sol prepped the cauldron to brew the potion, taking extra care to make sure that nothing spilled or touched their skin.

The process to make amortentia was slow and methodical, with both Joon hwi and Sol working in tandem to be careful as they added the ingredients. A blanket of silence fell over them as they worked together, trying to monitor the potion closely to add the correct ingredients at the right times.

Slughorn slowly made his rounds around the classroom, watching as students made their potions, and commenting on advice when needed. He passed by Sol’s bench almost twice, only nodding wordlessly as he looked over the potion, which usually meant approval. If Sol wasn’t working with Joon hwi, she might have even received a comment or two, but it seems Slughorn’s disdain for Joon hwi ended up extending to her as she worked with him.

“God, Joon hwi, did you roll around in the Quidditch Pitch before you came here?” Sol asked, wrinkling her nose as she stirred the cauldron. She tried to keep the potion from spilling as the potion glinted against the light, the pearl shine mesmerizing as the spiral steam wafted from it.

“Clearly, you decided to douse yourself with your perfume this morning. I think it’s going to give me a headache,” he laughed, as he stood behind her, looking over the potion. If she stepped even an inch backward, her back would be against his chest, his body lurching close as he watched over the potion.

“But my perfume bottle broke yesterday,” Sol said, her body tensing as she twisted her head to look up at him. Confusion was etched across her face as Joon hwi’s face drained of color slightly, as he avoided her gaze.

“I haven’t been down to the pitch since last week,” Joon hwi whispered.

Their eyes locked, and the breath knocked out of both of them. She simply stared at him, wide-eyed as her mind scrambled to process what just happened. They were smelling each other in the Amortentia. Sol blinked, trying to take in the shocking features of Joon hwi’s face as her heart raced, threatening to beat out of her chest.

She knew she was in love with him, it was always there within her heart, but to be called out on it, in front of him? It was too much. Sol wanted to say she felt mortified that Joon hwi was aware of her feelings, but she couldn’t help but find relief in some odd confirmation of his feelings for her, even though they couldn’t be together.

“Well, congratulations to Mr. Han and Ms. Kang, for successfully brewing the first batch of amortentia for this year! The two of you can clean up and dispose of the potion properly, before leaving class,” Slughorn informed them as he passed by their bench, looking over their cauldron, before passing by to the next bench, but she couldn’t care less.

Her feet were firmly planted on the ground, still looking up at the shocked boy, looking as though he didn’t see it coming, as though he wasn’t even aware. His shoulders were tense with a breath he was holding, as he looked down at Sol, eyes wide and starstruck.

And all she could do was stare.

Her eyes were almost glazed over, trying to just process what happened, what she smelled, what he smelled. It was too much for her mind to handle at once, only made worse by his gaze set on her, making her feel as though she was on fire.

“You two can leave, you know?” Ye-seul’s soft voice broke their concentration as her arm reached out to touch Sol’s shoulder, jolting her from her trance. Her best friend’s eyes were kind, sympathetic to her as Sol nodded slowly. Her movements felt as though they were on autopilot, robotically gathering her textbook and parchments spread across the bench.

As though Joon hwi’s body just restarted, his movements frantically joined Sol to clean up their mess. A heavily uncomfortable silence fell over the two as their friends looked at the two of them with glances of pity and a knowing expression that infuriated her slightly.

She didn’t even utter a word of goodbye when she was finally done, forcing herself to pretend as though he wasn’t present. She walked out trying her best to pretend nothing was wrong, her back straight and her eyes fixed on some distant place as she tried to rush her way out and back to her dorm.

Except she couldn’t even avoid Joon hwi at her dorm.

Oh god, how am I going to face him now?

It’s been a week since the amortentia incident. Turns out that spending all her time with Joon hwi for the past year made her well versed in his schedule, which was particularly useful to make sure she avoided him at all costs.

Yes, contrary to her branding as a Gryffindor, she avoided him. While she had the bravery to confront Assemblyman Ko and the Ministry of Magic, confessing to her crush was where she drew the line.

She would disappear the moment she spotted him within a one-mile radius of her, which meant leaving breakfast early and dipping out of any gatherings. The only class she shared with him was potions, and luckily she was allowed to take her rightful seat with Ye-Seul.

Her friends, of course, thought the idea was stupid.

“Where’s your Gryffindor spirit?” questioned Sol B when Sol had asked her to be her personal shield until Joon hwi left the room. Even the gentle, loyal Ye-Seul had expressed concern with her behavior, warning her that putting off talking with him would only end up in hurt and confusion.

Sol would hear none of it. It was painful, knowing that Joon hwi was aware of her feelings and worse, that he returned them in full force. It was the universe's cruel joke, to make sure that her feelings were requited and then forbid her from pursuing a relationship with him.

On some level, she was aware that she was just preventing herself from enjoying true happiness, knowing that there was a sliver of a chance that it would be okay A large part of her hoped to love him, to hold him in her arms, to have him fully and without inhibitions. But the rational part, the level-headed side that she had grown to resent, told her that it would only end in pain and heartache.

There were simply too many barriers between them, she argued. He was a rich pureblood witch that was set for so much greatness ahead of him. He was destined for it, and it only made sense that whoever his partner was, would match his skills. She was the poor muggle-born witch, struggling to hold her own against the brightest at Hogwarts. She would only drag him down, she reasoned.

So, whatever fantasies of romance she had with Joon hwi would pass. It would have to pass. She will watch Joon hwi fall in love with someone else, someone better, someone worthy of him, and she will be happy for them. It didn’t matter that Joon hwi was the end for her, that she wouldn’t love anyone like she loved him. All that mattered was that he would get the person he deserved.

And all she could do was live out her life, sequestered to wishing that the person was her.

Sol checked her watch as she sat on the common room couch. 8:00 PM. Crap. It was almost the end of quidditch practice. She hurried as she grabbed some parchment and quills into her bag, trying to move fast so she can leave before he returned for his nightly shower.

Sol walked quickly towards the entrance, fiddling with the strap of her satchel as her feet propelled her forward, only to run into a warm figure. Momentarily frozen, she took a deep breath. Grass. Rain. Joon hwi.

Her head snapped up to meet the gaze of the boy, his hair dripping wet. Unlike most nights, he was showered, no longer sweating and panting from his practice. Her eyes roamed his figure as she cleared her throat.

“Hi,” she stuttered out as she looked up at him, stumbling back to put some distance between them.

“Hi,” he let a breath out as he stared down at her, his gaze piercing into her. Her body felt as though it was lit on fire, his eyes peeling her apart against her will.

“Have a good practice?” she asked, a pitiful attempt at going back to whatever amalgamation of friendship and love they had before.

“Uh, yeah,” he answered, hesitant. He pursed his lips as he continued to look at her, as though he was trying to figure out a puzzle or a mystery.

“Good then,” she concluded, tearing her gaze away from him and stepping aside, trying to move around him. Only he mirrored her movements, using his body to block her path.

She tried again, this time in the other direction, only to be met with him blocking her, and she let out a frustrated huff. Just let me move Joon hwi, and we can be passed this.

“Let me leave, Joon hwi,” she ground out, looking up at him with irritation.

“We have to talk about it at some point,” his voice firm. “You can’t ignore it forever.”

“Talk about what?” she feigned ignorance, gritting her teeth.

“Potions. Last week. The amortentia?”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” she pursed her lips as she looked down at her feet, his expression too much for her to handle. One more look into his warm eyes, and the guilt would come crashing through her body.

Now was not the time to be weak and give in Sol. This is for his own good. She tried to convince herself, weakly.

“You can ignore it all you want, but I know what you smelled in that cauldron Kang Sol,” he took a step closer to her, forcing her back. Her eyes blurred as they stared into his red and golden Quidditch jersey, the colors blurring out as she noted the steady rhythm of his chest.

“So what, I smelled you in the cauldron,” she replied, her hands gripping tightly on the strap of her bag. She moved her head to meet his eyes, steeling herself. “No big deal.”

“Not a big deal? Yeah no, it’s definitely not a big deal when the girl I’ve been in love with since the first year smelled me in amortentia,” he scoffed, his familiar face confused and frustrated.

“So you agree,” she quirked an eyebrow. “It’s not a big deal.” Sol swallowed, trying not to let her traitorous heart dance at the confession that he loved her since the moment he met her. Every breath felt heavy, as though the action hurt every molecule in her body.

“It’s certainly a big deal. Sol...” he sighed. His eyes scrunched with pain, with desperation as his voice dipped into distress. “You know I love you.”

She drew a sharp breath at the admission, a pain and suffocation unfurling in her chest. Her throat closed at the admission, her eyes welling up with tears as she told herself that this was necessary. Why did you have to make it so hard?

“You shouldn’t.” she clenched her jaw, desperate to make him see how much it pained her to do this. So much regret and agony welled up in her body that she clenched her fists, trying so hard to steel herself. To tell herself that this is simply momentary.

“You don’t mean that,” he pleaded, his voice almost raw with emotion.

“I do. It’s a mistake Joon hwi,” Sol said stiffly.

Quickly, Joon hwi grew very, very still. It was as though he wasn’t even breathing as he looked down at her, his eyes filled with pain, with anger. A simple silence stretched between them, the tension filling the air as his eyes bored into her, making her skin itch with heat.

The way he looked at her was suffocating, an eternal reminder of what she was doing seared into her mind. In the back of her head, the hopeful Sol clawed her way through, desperately arguing to stay, to allow herself to love him fully. But all her fears, every insecurity shoved her down, telling her that this is for the best.

“Why?” Joon hwi asked, his voice hollow.

“What?”

“Why is it a mistake?”

“Because... Because it will only end up bad for both of us. You know that Joon hwi,” she pleaded. “You... you deserve more. Someone at your level, who can love you and keep up. Whatever this is... It’ll pass.”

Joon hwi stood in simple silence, his eyes roaming her face with a flash of irritation. “Who are you to determine what I deserve?”

Sol opened her mouth to reply, but he cut her off.

“More than that, how could you say that you aren’t deserving of this love Sol? How can you not even take a chance on this?” Joon hwi questioned her. “Why can’t we just love each other and that be enough?”

“Because—”

“No. There is no reason you could come up with that is logical enough for you to do this,” he begged her. Joon hwi’s hand was trembling as he brought it up to her face, as though it would burn him to touch her. Softly, slowly, his hand cupped her cheek and in a moment of desperation, Sol leaned into it.

“I love you. And if I know you well enough... you love me. And that’s all I need Sol-ah,” he whispered, “Being loved by you is a lot more than I deserve.”

His touch was so soft against her skin that it lulled her into a peaceful trance. All she could do was look into his eyes, helplessly at his mercy of him. Her hands moved up naturally to rest on his jersey, pulling him closer to her on instinct.

“But—” she weakly attempted at an argument, her hands still clenched in his shirt, her body contrary to her mind. Everything in her craved more of him, for him to push back and tell her this is a good idea, that this is right.

“Please,” he stepped closer to her, both his hands cupping her face to tilt it up to his. “Let me love you,” he whispered to her, his lips a breath away from hers.

His lips were soft as they pressed against hers, hesitant and scared. Sol’s eyes fluttered shut, and as though something clicked into place, she moved her mouth against his slowly. Their kiss was passionate, deliberate as his hands drew her face closer to his, bringing her desperately close.

She dropped her bag as she pulled him close again, forgetting every bit of her surroundings as she was consumed by him. She was lost in the feeling of him, the way his fingers held her so carefully, the warmth of his body bleeding into hers as she stepped closer.

Their tongues moved against each other, exploring each other's mouths with such deliberation, as though they would never enjoy the feeling of kissing each other again. It was filled with every confession, every moment of love that she had suppressed from showing as her hands tugged at his jersey trying to pull his body as close as she could.

They drew away slowly, panting to gather their breath, but crashed into each other once more, the kiss frantic and desperate. This was heated, messy as their mouths slotted against each other, desperate to get as close to each other as they could. Her hands traced the edges of his jersey, before dipping underneath to feel the planes of his stomach, the way his abs tensed as she dragged her nails up.

Joon hwi shivered slightly, before parting slightly, allowing her to drag his jersey off his body in a smooth motion. She gasped slightly at the sight of his body, being able to see, touch, and feel the body she had fantasized about for months, before throwing herself at him once more. The feel of his skin made her desperate to get out of her own clothes, but luckily Joon hwi’s hands traced across the edge of her school shirt, pulling it out of the confines of her skirt.

His deft fingers made quick work of her shirt buttons, parting once only to discard them before they were joined again. The feeling of her naked skin against his was stronger than any alcohol she had ever had, her mind clouded with the way his skin felt. It was so powerful, the way he made her feel that she was sure she would never feel anything like this, for anyone ever again.

Joon hwi dropped his hands from her face, hooking them under her thighs and using his strength to carry her. Sol’s legs wrapped around his waist instinctively, still not parting from their kiss as her arms curled around his neck. Her fingers went to play with the hairs at the nape of his neck, before running her hands lightly in his hair, trying to draw him closer to her.

There was something crazed at the way their hands roamed around each other's bodies, desperate to memorize the feel of his body with her hands, her body, her lips. Sol felt heady in her desire, pure lust for the boy that she loves, that she craves. She felt drunk off the feeling of his lips, breaking away from their kiss to press frantic, messy kisses against her neck.

Carefully, he set her down on the sofa, before climbing over her. The weight of his body was delicious against hers, and feeling every inch of his body pressed against hers felt like a luxury. It was hard for her to breathe, her lust and love for him suffocating and his hands roaming her skin making her mind feel lost.

She could feel her mind lose focus as Joon hwi’s attention turned down her neck and her collarbones, taking his sweet time exploring every inch of her body with his hands, his lips, his teeth. Her hands once more sought anchor in his hair, when she realized just how damp it was.

“Wait,” she said, her voice throaty from disuse. “Did you take a shower already?”

“Mhm,” he hummed against her skin, pressing kisses into her stomach as he continued his track down her body. “The quidditch pitch has showers.”

“So,” she paused, letting out a gasp when he nipped at her skin, “Why did you come up here to take a shower after practice?”

At that, Joon hwi lifted his head, a mischievous smirk across his face. “That, my love, was just a show for you,” he winked as she gasped.

“You minx! I can’t believe you,” her eyes narrowed.

“Too late. It was your choice to love a Marauder,” he laughed. “I will always be up to no good.”

“Promise?” she asked.

“Promise, Sol-ah,” he smiled, before they got drunk in each other's presence once more.

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wpdariacutnes · 10 months

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me: let me tell you that this creppypasta is more of a dream so if there is something like peskoki then sorry it was a dream in 2014 and also these darkgroup scandals that they are supposedly making their own mini rooms (yes censorship of darkwep because maybe they don't want to)

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I'll just say I'm not a chummy dude, I can call myself an older guwnage because my story starts when I was little I'm 24 yes I know old horse I'm a boy you this darkgroup but almost other friend of the leader of this group so onesly

it started like this, my wife went to the store with her children, she was taking care of them because there was a job and I, as a 24-year-old, don't like children very much, because I'm healthy and medication for insanity in a red box something on the Bull side after one act of taking a dog and another celebrity pays the female because they are only small golden dogs and that was the general hunt I already thought that another friend *cezura because the real name is O* but not of course the oil that my side bites me very much under the dog's bite skriming face but fine like in home whatever me do it's small somehow, so pale male gender and 15 years old some blond guy with green eyes and sports pants and rubber boots these shoes and T-shirts probably for the worse of a rock band because it was like CAHA or something I don't know

others get hurt because of some wounds so I guessed that blondes like such childish pearls instead of saying hello how was it on łapu capu but you can see that it's not the one that few years in total flash drugs gave me, is it really the one that I sent the photo to the boss was it the one who told me that it was the one because he showed me that it was for hunting that's what I said that it's not the type of guwniazy for zwioksi it's easy to play you are supposed to beat your friends and then take it and knows note a gimi money and yara yara

it's normal as it was on the plan no wine talks when I say hello what kind of things or what he likes I went for coffee "sorry don't drink acochol with this job because it will be a disaster right away" actually, the young man wasn't very talkative, he was more busy, it was almost all work then, but he turned around because I didn't tell him what my clothes looked like and I didn't even tell him what I am very rarely and I was next to him I almost missed that I had to click something to send I used to wear my old turym outfit but it wasn't that bad

yes... he's already playing with me that he's supposedly hunting for the naive it was so odd about me that I twisted my eyes and he twisted you and suddenly god damn the dog's urination hurt like hell how to pour acid like that I didn't wake up right now I used herbal medicine for pain but it didn't occur to me that blue and green turned out to be some bolus poisoning I read it, I didn't, I threw the latop on the floor, there was noise but it didn't work, it wasn't January, but something was closing, that's for sure I was breathing too fast and then the bub was pissing and breathing better but still slightly not what and he that kid was unonline I preferred to take care of the floor and went to sleep because my wife comes back after 4 days anyway but it took longer because I was writing to her before I fell (it's either the life of the sitter and this phone could be beating you this poloka place or maybe he wanted too fast =/)

3 days were cool because there was no contact either stim or I ordered this wound near the stomach only the 4th day I don't like the number 4 because it's bad or typical people play these songs outside the window but the older out a dogs to come out and the dog just barks like a moron idiot but I didn't know that the young man would record this video for me when I turn right out of bulu and he himself "ha ha but it's funny tower I'm small tower's birthday how to talk" I ignored it at all because of course you would say something similar and then say it was me only pront flashes once once no and so circle as I tried, of course I ignored it because the reason is that they were still repairing hotel failures and it could be checking because some of them did not have a TV set And all in all I had an installment because the pront came back permanently only at 12am or the sum of the sun's rays I didn't connect any face video at all and the child himself freaked out when I looked at the sunset because I heard a noise so I thought I moved from this impression with this product but some sirens went I lifted him with seriousness on his face because I wasn't interested in how he rode a bike or something like that but no I wasn't wrong some pejechanny 15-year-old was around that time there were cars the police didn't understand how it could not be the whole chest peiehana peiehana and still convex but the face was torn off the skin on the L side, it was very red without the skin wogule himself, this video got to his face and he himself is a child, it's not enough to beat the child "but fast oh ho?" he himself sent a photo of some room looks normal that he is modestly prepared for 15 years nice villa of peace but he himself was like the video face the same only better light I'm already scared myself and such a "dude for calling the police" he gave me someone's number and himself "if you want to call on this one, you don't have to send dogs beybey ×_×" I called to see oco hodzi total I was totally tired of it so I shouted at the top of my voice "WHAT!?! DO YOU ENOUGH!?!?" another voice came out " emmm hello or good morning at the time of day" I'm already on medication face pale " it's sunburn again I'm sorry " I was about to settle down but I had a small question " what are you doing son" so quickly this person "unfortunately, but my son has been dead for almost 8 months but it's cool I understand" I felt something as if something was hurting my side and I fell it happened by itself because you could see the legs the guy himself asked "hello are happened sowing are you here?" something the child was chewing keys And started kicking me you this wound Near the belly And so I went to the hospital, but the doctor himself said that it was good that the composition of my side of the body was not yet opchite, the excess of this other sumstaciture was glass just like the police and another colleague from darkgroups probably took me because the police themselves said that he gave me a ride there I was excited just looking at the police max 2 people were there and the same guy from this supposedly child was also proud I thought he would help me and it turned out that he only heard a bang and something went wrong I thought it was relief and I'll fix something but then I asked the question "someone was there" they the police look straight at me then at mestyzne without expression "not only that something hit and some keys but no person was like entering" the police just gave me a card this card to call like there was a burglar again or something and they gave me hats as a compliment for their time and they left and said have a nice day

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#creppypastcomunity #youtube #art 2023 #wpexpleing #parents take rule

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shittinggold · 3 years

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I love Lannister POV chapters. Every single one is like "dear diary. woke up today angry and horny. drank eight glasses of wine for breakfast. a peasant came to court and asked for bread. gods they were so whiny, i could barely finish my lunch of swan and caviar. can't believe I'm so hated for no reason. better drink more wine. thinkin bout helping one(1) person today. i'm so sexy. I am repulsed when I look at my body however. my childhood hero came to visit in the afternoon - told me I was a massive disappointment. I threw a baby at them. gods I really am so sexy. why doesn't my dad love me."

#i must be clear this is a complementary post #golden disaster morons #House Lannister #cersei lannister #jaime Lannister #tyrion lannister #asoiaf

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ourloveisforthelovely · 3 years

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Teenagers Part 2

Harry Potter Marauders Era

Link to Part 1

Pairings: Regulus Black x Reader

Rating: M

______

Getting out of potions didn’t come fast enough! As soon as the bell rang, Regulus was on his feet and out of the room. You let out a sigh and sat back in your chair.

I can’t believe that I told him that I wasn’t dating his brother…

You thought miserably before standing up and picking up your bag. The clear embarrassment of your action was finally hitting home. Instead of asking Regulus how his day was or some other nice comment you instead told him that you weren't dating his brother. Putting your hand over your face, you big Slughorn a good day. Why would Regulus care if you were dating Sirius or not? It wasn’t like he liked you or anything. Just because he was looking at you didn’t mean that he liked you.

I’m an idiot.

Walking into the Gryffindor common room, you were thankful to see Remus sitting by himself. There was no sign of James nor Sirius and you were thankful. You needed to whine to Remus and he of all people would be sympathetic.

“Remus.”

You whined his name before sitting down and smashing your face into his upper arm.

“Bad day?”

Remus questioned. You nodded and decided to bury yourself in his robes.

“It must have been a bad day. You haven’t done this in a long time.”

You groaned.

“I am never coming out again. I can’t show my face in the great hall or any class that Regulus Black is in ever again.”

Remus chuckled. While he was surprised to hear Regulus’ name come out of your mouth, he wasn’t about to give you a hard time like your brother would.

“Now, Y/n, you will have to come out from under my robes. I can’t go to class with you attached to me like a baby koala. People will ask questions.”

You whined again.

“Come on, Remus. It was a horribly embarrassing moment that I don’t think that I will ever live down. Just tell Sirius that I have taken up residence with you and he will have to get used to it or keep his shirt on.”

Remus patted your back.

“Now you know that Sirius isn’t the most patient of people and it will be hard to talk to Regulus if you’re attached to me. I don’t think he will be too interested if you are with me.”

“It doesn’t matter. I can never talk to him again.”

Remus looked up as Marlene and Lily walked in. Both girls stopped at the sight of you hiding inside of Remus’ robes. Remus gave them a small shrug.

“She’s had a super dinosaur-sized embarrassing moment that involves Regulus and won't come out.

“Oh god, Remus who are you talking to?”

You asked. Marlene gave Lily a smirk before both girls came to sit on the couch.

“Just Marlene and I.”

Lily softly replied before gently reaching out and pulling you away from Remus.

“Y/n, we know that you want to use Remus as a security blanket but you know that Sirius won’t be too happy with that.”

You sighed.

“It's horrible. I made the biggest fool out of myself. Regulus probably thinks that I’m an idiot. It's no wonder that he ran out of that class so fast.”

Marlene gave you a confused expression.

“Sweetie, what happened? You’re killing us.”

You stood up and ran a hand through your hair.

“He’s my partner in potions. We were talking and he asked if I was friends with Sirius. Do you want to know what my comment was? Instead of saying yes like a normal person I automatically said we aren’t dating. Like who does that?”

Lily gave you her warm motherly smile.

“What did he say?”

You groaned.

“His exact words were...I wasn’t asking. He also called me sassy.”

Remus’ comforting smile took over his face.

“Regulus doesn’t know half of that.”

Remus was pleased when you finally smiled. You took a breath before sitting back down in between Remus and Lily as Marlene took her turn to laugh.

“That really isn’t that bad, Y/n. You didn’t scream at him or step on his feet or anything...I understand your embarrassment but it's going to be okay. You kind of have to throw that disclaimer about Sirius and yourself out there. If people didn’t know the two of you better they would think that the both of you were a couple.”

“The same could be said about us too.”

Remus added. You dramatically groaned again.

“I should just date you and Sirius...it would be easier.”

“What would be easier?”

The conversation instantly stopped when James and Sirius stepped into the room. James looked between Remus and yourself.

“So back to my question...what would be easier?”

“Bashing my face into the floor.”

You commented. James grinned before wiggling his way between Lily and yourself.

“Having a bad day, sissy?”

You nodded and laid your head on his shoulder.

“Just made a fool out of myself...nothing new.”

James laughed.

“In front of who.”

Your mouth immediately dropped remembering just whom you were speaking to. James would have a cow if he knew that you were crushing on the one boy that James seemed to despise more than Severus Snape.

“Does it really matter? I’m just going to be a cat lady.”

Sirius started laughing at that one.

“I don’t get along with cats, love.”

You looked up.

“I will just live in the basement of the home that you purchase with Remus.”

Sirius chuckled before kneeling down in front of you.

“Come on now, you are a very pretty girl, Y/n. There are a lot of boys out there that would love to date you.”

“I can name one!”

Dorcas added. James’ eyes were on Dorcas at that one.

“Who? Who is he? I need to know.”

Dorcas grinned, ignoring how you were silently pleading with her to stop.

“Regulus.”

Both James and Sirius’ mouths dropped.

“Like my brother? He doesn’t like anyone but himself.”

James jumped up and shook his head. It would be a cold day in hell before he was okay with you dating Regulus. The kid was a punk...a snarky sarcastic little punk that cared way too much about his headful of curly hair.

“I’ll light him on fire before that happens. There are a lot of other girls out there. Regulus can go find another dude’s sister...not mine.”

Sirius too was laughing.

“Prongs, you really don’t have to worry about that. 1st off, Regulus doesn’t know how to talk to a woman. 2nd, no woman would put up with my mother as a mother-in-law. I prefer to call her a monster-in-law. 3rd, Regulus would just scare Y/n off with his less than sunny disposition.”

James grinned.

“I don’t think that the boy knows how to smile.”

You leaned back further against the couch forcing yourself to be quiet. As much as you wanted to defend Regulus, you knew that it would be a bad idea.

“He did smile at me today.”

Both James and Sirius turned to look at you like an overprotective mother hen.

“Why was he smiling at you?”

James snapped.

“Well, he is my potions partner.”

You commented while mentally smacking yourself for even providing that information. Sirius tilted his head to the side.

“What were the two of you talking about?”

“Potions stuff. I answered a question that he didn’t think that I would know...it wasn’t anything major so before you two form an angry lynch mob just stop.”

James did as you asked but internally made a note to himself to keep an eye on you anytime that you were near Regulus Black.

“Okay, that is understandable.”

(meanwhile)

Regulus stormed into the Slytherin common room and tossed his potions book on the couch beside Evan.

“Bad day, star shine?”

Regulus scowled at his friend as Barty sat down clearly interested in whatever was bugging Regulus.

“Not bad...I just made a fool out of myself...I don’t think that I can go back to potions again.”

“And why is that?”

Evan questioned. Regulus sat down and started playing with the golden snitch that was in his pocket.

“Y/n Potter is in my class.”

“And?”

Barty questioned, reminding Regulus of a housewife that spied on their neighbors whenever there was the slightest bit of drama.

“She’s my potions partner for the semester. It was a disaster. First I asked her if she knew how to talk then I called her sassy.”

A smile was already playing on Evan's lips. Regulus knew that he was about to be torn apart by his friends.

Can I just die already?

Regulus muttered before grabbing at the golden snitch again.

“She wasn’t mad. She didn’t even seem the least bit bothered by it. The girl actually responded with you don’t know the half of it. That just intrigued me more and my stupid ass self asked if she was friends with my brother. She immediately told me that she wasn’t dating him. It was awkward for both of us. She probably thinks that I’m a dick because I said I wasn’t asking instead of something...nicer. Ugh...she probably thinks that I am living up to my fucking reputation that I have to have with the Potters.”

Evan started laughing.

“Good one, Reg. Next time compliment her on her eyes or something.”

“Yeah, I wish that I did that this time.”

Regulus muttered as Barty hopped up.

“You should go talk to her now. What does she like?”

Regulus frowned.

“Hell if I know. There is another problem. It's something that we already discussed...her big-headed brother.”

Evan rolled his eyes.

“We can deal with Potter. He isn’t hovering over his sister all of the time anyway. The boy needs to go play quidditch or develop another hobby. The girl will never get a boyfriend with him scaring every guy away.”

“I’m not scared of him if that is what you are implying.”

Regulus added with a dark glare. Evan held a hand up.

“Did those words leave my mouth?”

Regulus quickly jumped up.

“I need to go clear my head. Later.”

Regulus’ mind was still a pretzel of emotions when dinner time came. He was mentally trying to sort out his feelings. On one hand, dating you wouldn’t be easy. His parents probably wouldn’t be happy. Granted, he could use the “she’s a pureblood” excuse but Walburga would probably accuse you of being a blood traitor. Regulus could also argue that he wanted to be with you and liked you. After Sirius left, Walburga’s scathing nature seemed to cool a bit, and whenever Regulus said that he wanted something he pretty much got it. Regulus was afraid that he would turn into one of those girl-crazy morons who lost themselves in their girlfriends. The last thing that he wanted to do was be tending to someone's every displeasure.

On the other hand, Regulus wouldn’t be so alone. With Evan dating a new girl every other week, the only company that Regulus had was Barty and that got old fast. It would also be nice to have someone to kiss and cuddle with. The physical parts of a relationship sounded nice too. Regulus played his part of “disinterested in love” so well but deep down he wanted to have a girl to love on. Evan made that part look “fun.”

Regulus glanced across the room to where you sat talking to Lily Evans and that god awful Dorcas Meadowes. Everything about you seemed perfect. Regulus sighed as he looked at your hands that were twirling your hair around your finger.

Those would fit perfectly with mine...and those lips…

Regulus sighed. Was he that pathetic that he was drooling over you from afar? It wasn’ that he hadn’t had the opportunity to find a lover. There were plenty of opportunities. He could count at least five girls that were desperate for his attention.

They aren’t Y/n.

(meanwhile)

“Why do seagulls fly over the sea? Because if they flew over the bay, they would be bagels!”

You smirked at the joke that Dorcas had just told hoping to beat one that Sirius just told.

“That’s the best that you’ve got? You are the dad joke person. Mine are actually funny.”

Sirius questioned. Dorcas picked up a dinner roll and tossed it at Sirius’ face as you sat laughing quietly.

“I thought it was amusing.”

You said, politely. Dorcas grinned.

“See Sirius, at least someone here has manners.”

Sirius shrugged and went back to his conversation with James leaving the conversation. Dorcas sighed.

“So much for that. Are you feeling any better?”

You shrugged.

“I don’t know. I am still slightly embarrassed.”

Dorcas glanced at the Slytherin table where Regulus sat with his eyes locked on you. She gave Lily a wink as Lily too noticed the boy’s eyes. Grinning, Dorcas elbowed you in the side.

“Don’t look super quick but Regulus has been staring at you for a good few minutes.”

You quickly looked up and sure enough, Regulus’ gaze was right on you.

Oh Merlin, don’t do anything stupid….don’t make a fool out of yourself...just don’t...smile...smile like a normal human.

You took a breath before smiling. Regulus watched you for a moment longer before giving you a one-sided smile that slowly spread a little wider. It wasn’t a smile like his brother would give but perfect for Regulus. You didn’t foresee him being a big “I’m going to smile all of the time” person. He seemed much more serious than that...and you were fine with it. If you could put a smile on his face...just once...you have been happy.

The cute moment was ruined when Barty Crouch Jr hit Regulus' hand that was holding his drink knocking the liquid all over his lap. Regulus’ gaze was gone as he smacked Barty in the back of the head. You knew that you had lost him at that point, he was too busy fussing at Barty who had turned around to defend himself.

“Those two would be perfect for each other.”

Your head snapped up hearing James' voice.

“Who?”

James motioned to Regulus and Barty.

“Psycho and clueless over there.”

“That’s mean, James.”

You said with a displeased expression. James, in a very sassy manner, put his hand on his chest.

“Don’t tell me that you have come to care for him.”

You rolled your eyes.

“I never said that. You can just be mean.”

James brushed you off with a grin. He wasn’t sure what was going on in your head. If you thought for one moment that he would be okay with you crushing on Regulus Black then you had another thing coming.

“Calm down, I didn’t mean to insult your little boyfriend.”

“He isn't my boyfriend.”

You snapped, a little louder before picking up your book and smacking James shoulder with it before standing up. You didn’t realize that your comment was a little louder than you planned. Thankfully, most of the great hall had cleared out but Regulus and Evan were watching with matching grins.

Blushing, you quickly turned and walked from the great hall without another word.

The next morning, you sat in Potions waiting for Regulus to show up. You were absolutely a nervous wreck. For most of the morning, you had set up a mantra of,

“I will not make a fool out of myself. I will be sweet and charming...I’ll be my nice self...I won’t be weird….don't be weird.”

You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t feel Regulus sit down beside you.

“Just so you know, my friend Evan is in love with you.”

You looked up like a deer locked in a car’s headlights. Regulus was looking over at you with the same smile from the night before.

“Lord, why?”

Regulus chuckled.

“You whacked that cocky brother of yours with a book. We have been wanting to do that since 1st year.”

You nervously laughed.

“Well, I do it about once a week. Try living with him. Do me a favor and tell Evan, no. No offense but he’s a dick.”

Regulus chuckled. On the outside, he was playing cool but on the inside, he was jumping up and down with glee over the fact that you showed no interest in Evan.

“I’ve heard that a time or two.”

“He comes off as desperate and girls really don’t like that..at least I don’t.”

You commented. Regulus looked over his shoulder for Slughorn. He silently prayed the teacher wouldn't come back for some time.

“What do you like?”

Your face blushed at the question.

“Well, I suppose someone who can handle themselves without me needing to hold their hand every second of the day. A sensitive side too isn’t bad. As much as I love a good laugh...funny can’t happen all of the time. A girl wants some romance.”

Regulus nodded and thought with a smile…

I can do all of those things!

“Why do you ask?”

You choked out. Regulus shrugged.

“Just curious. Every girl seems to be different.”

“It's not like I will find anyone anyway.”

Regulus looked up at that comment.

“Why would you say something like that?”

You shrugged.

“Because that guy doesn’t exist apparently. “

You could feel Regulus’ dark eyes burning a hole right through you. He leaned back in his chair with a haughty smile that reminded you so much of his brother.

Ugh...Sirius is the last thing that I need to be thinking about right now.

You thought as Regulus finally spoke again.

“You would be surprised what you could find out there. I know that we really don’t know each other but Slughorn is having a party in a few weeks for Halloween...would you consider going with me?”

Regulus had no idea where this sudden surge of bravery came from. Internally he was panicking. What if you said no? He would have to sit beside for the rest of the semester in utter embarrassment. Of course, you were going to say no. Gryffindors didn’t date Slytherins. It just didn’t work that way…

“I’ll go with you. We may have to keep in on the down-low because of my brother...you know how he is.”

Regulus snorted.

“Like I’m really scared.”

How this conversation had gone from awkward to completely comfortable, you had no idea...but you were fine with it. Later you would probably be questioning everything but for now, you decided to go with your newfound bravery.

“I just don’t want him to give you a hard time.”

Regulus chuckled.

“Again, I’m not really concerned but if you want to keep things a little quiet for now...you know...until we figure out how we want things to go...I’m fine with that.”

“Deal.”

The following two weeks passed quickly. Unbeknownst to James and Sirius (and the rest of your friends for that matter), you had gone on two dates with Regulus. You had to congratulate yourself on James not picking up on anything. He was so busy with quidditch and getting ready for the season to start that he hadn’t noticed much of anything going on around him.

Quidditch had taken a good chunk of Regulus’ time. The two dates that you were able to have were to study together (without prying eyes) then the next one was a date on the astronomy tower. He was apologetic about not being able to give you more time but you understood. With keeping things simple there weren't a lot of expectations that either of you had to live up to. Most of the “talking” that the two of you did was through letters quietly passed in the hallways.

You were surprised at how much the two of you actually had in common. Regulus wasn’t near as cocky as Sirius. In fact, he seemed interested in most of the things that you were….the same books, songs, everything. You were thrilled that conversations between the two of you weren’t as awkward as they were the first day.

On the second date, you were convinced that Regulus was about to kiss you but he stopped. You couldn’t help but feel let down. It would have been your first kiss and damn it, you wanted it!

Calm down...it will come.

You thought over breakfast the morning of the Slytherin vs Gryffindor game. Looking over at the Slytherin table, Regulus sat in his green sweater laughing over something that Evan was saying.

Peter sitting down beside you pulled your attention away from Regulus. You reached down into your pocket for the envelope that needed to get to Regulus.

“Peter, can you do something for me?”

Peter looked up with a big smile. As much as you hated to admit it, you knew that the boy had a crush on you. You wanted to wretch at the thought. Peter had always seemed like a weakling that needed James and Sirius for protection. He definitely wasn’t a certain Slytherin who your eyes were trained on.

“Sure, what do you need, Y/n?”

You put the envelope in his hands.

“I need you to take this over to Regulus Black right now and don’t let my brother know about it. Don’t let him see you and do not tell him about it. Got it?”

Peter looked down at the envelope that had Regulus’ name written in your neat as a pin handwriting.

“Um okay. Sure.”

Peter stood up and carefully snuck his way through the groups of students. He didn’t know what was going on or what was in the envelope but it felt heavy. Why would you be sending Regulus Black something? Peter didn’t even know that the two of you were talking. The last time that he checked, James had put his foot down about Regulus.

Regulus and Evan automatically looked up when Peter came over.

“Hi, Regulus. I’m your own personal owl from over there. Y/n…”

Regulus raised an eyebrow.

“Just shut up and give me the letter, Pettigrew.”

Regulus snatched the letter out of Peter’s hand and told him to get lost. Like he was going to open whatever it was with the little rat standing in front of him. Regulus had no love lost for Peter Pettigew. Something about the boy just oozed dishonesty and Regulus wanted no part of that.

“What is it?”

Evan finally questioned. Regulus shrugged as he tore the envelope open to find no letter. Frowning, he titled it over until a locket fell out in his hand. Turning it over your initials were engraved on the front of the piece of jewelry. Regulus looked up at you with a sly smile before putting the locket on and tucking it under his sweater.

Regulus noticed Evan with a smile on his face.

“Like hell, you two have nothing going on. She sends you a locket that she always wears with her initials on it. That girl just claimed you as her property.”

Regulus couldn’t help but smile. He knew if James figured out what you did, he would be running as Regulus screaming like a maniac...but Regulus didn’t care. He didn't care what anyone had to say at the moment.

“And I am just fine with that.”

He commented before standing up. Regulus felt better about himself today than he had in a long time.

“I have a certain Gryffindor quidditch player to humiliate.”

_____

@amelie-black

@truly-insatiable

@fandomsxxregulus

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@maggioli-m

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jaskicr · 4 years

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reverse!au but geralt, eskel and lambert are all bards

(probably bardsexual) witcher!jaskier and his merry boyband of bards consisting of geralt, eskel, and lambert, featuring vesemir as their tired dad, with future additions of yen, ciri and coën (and some valdo bashing)

bard!geralt talks a little more than in the show, he’s sassy and witty in the way we only see bits of in canon, he’s slightly less emotionally stunted but he‘s still dumb

he has curly auburn hair (bc that’s adorable ok) and green eyes, he’s very squishy and pretty and adorable, also he has freckles and blushes easily

he and eskel and lambert were all orphans, taken in by vesemir, a gruff but kind-hearted professor at oxenfurt

they grew up in oxenfurt as brothers with vesemir as their father figure and now they travel the continent as a band (bard boyband that i have dubbed kaer morons courtesy of @kaermorons)

vesemir gave up his position as professor to travel alongside his sons bc they’re really chaotic and he needs to make sure they don’t get themselves killed (but also he’s a tired dad who loves his disaster sons)

ok so one day they split up because they’re competitive bastards and they’re competing to see who first writes a song that gets popular across the continent

this is when geralt travels to posada and spots a witcher in the corner of a tavern

jaskier is a witcher from the wolf school and he goes by julian of kerack

he’s not as chatty as in canon but he’s definitely chattier than a normal witcher

it’s just a normal day on the path when he meets a bard called geralt in posada

geralt is intrigued by the witcher in the corner, takes one look at jaskier’s distinctive silver hair and golden eyes and scarred face and exclaims, ‘oh, you’re julian of kerack’

jaskier is surprised - this human knows who he is, and yet chose to approach him. he doesn’t even look afraid, merely curious, so jaskier decides to see where this goes

‘my friends call me jaskier,’ jaskier returns wryly. ‘at least, they would, if i had any friends’

geralt is stunned. the witcher is funny! and he has a very cute nickname to match a very cute face (even if it is slightly intimidating. but he’s cute)

‘well, nice to meet you, jaskier. i’m sure we’ll become great friends’

then they get kidnapped by elves, and geralt is taken aback by this witcher’s surprising eloquence as he talks them out of the situation

geralt wants to know more about him

also, it’ll be a good way to get a new song, what with his witchery adventures, so geralt decides to follow this witcher for inspiration for his songs

he can easily beat eskel and lambert if he sings songs about a witcher’s adentures

it’ll also improve the reputations of witchers in the process, so it’s a win-win

but also, geralt finds this witcher deeply interesting, and what better way to get to know him than to travel with him?

jaskier is bemused at the bard who decides to follow him. he almost leaves the bard behind, but well, he’s lonely, he’s missed talking to people, and geralt is kind of adorable, so he lets geralt follow him

the bard makes good music, jaskier notes. usually, most sounds grate on his enhanced hearing, but geralt’s music is low and pleasant, and jaskier finds that he doesn’t mind

geralt’s view that all witchers are taciturn and silent is quickly overturned. while jaskier rarely starts a conversation, once geralt asks him questions, he actually talks quite a lot, rambling a bit

geralt finds it quite endearing, and jaskier’s smile when geralt engages him in conversation lights up his face, and oh the witcher is really gorgeous

geralt tells jaskier about his band with eskel and lambert, and sheepishly admits that he partly tagged along with jaskier to win the competition

jaskier isn’t mad. he’d suspected that the bard had an ulterior motive, so he shrugs it off. geralt’s been good company after years of loneliness, and jaskier isn’t about to chase him away

geralt is relieved - jaskier has grown on him, and he finds himself reluctant to leave the witcher’s side

geralt’s version of toss a coin is debuted 2 weeks later and the humans eat it up

within a month it’s spread across the continent like wildfire and geralt knows that he’s all but won the little competition against his brothers

during this time, geralt has, despite jaskier’s insistence that he stay back, joined jaskier on several hunts. there are around 3 more songs in the works, ready to be debuted with his band

a tentative friendship has grown between them, a comfortable banter unlike anything jaskier has had over the long years of his life, and geralt finds himself becoming attached to the witcher

one day, geralt asks jaskier to travel with him to meet his band

they meet up with eskel, lambert and vesemir in oxenfurt at their planned meeting time

eskel and lambert have resigned looks on their faces as geralt turns up with a smug grin and a scary witcher trailing behind him

‘you found a witcher,’ lambert grouses, ‘that should be cheating.’

‘that was never in the rules,’ geralt replies, still high on his victory. ‘suck it, lambert.’

but the wolves take a liking to jaskier very quickly after a chat over a meal, and they collectively decide to follow him

jaskier is very confused (poor bby is confused throughout this whole thing) because he’s a big bad scary witcher?? and somehow all these bards have decided that they like him and want to follow him??

but it’s not like he can stop them so they tag along on his adventures, singing his praises

whenever jaskier gets a contract, he tries to make the bards stay behind in town, but it’s 4 against 1 and jaskier can’t do anything but give in

so the bards huddle some distance away from the fight and watch

the first time, they’re tense and on edge, fearing the worst, and only geralt is relaxed, knowing that jaskier is more than capable of taking down some measly drowners

by the third time they follow jaskier into a fight, the bards are totally chill and start a running commentary about the fight

‘bet you our next meal that jaskier’s gonna run to the left’

lambert snorts. ‘please, eskel. he’ll definitely jump on its head.’

‘as if. he’s gonna roll under it and stab it,’ geralt argues

‘HOLY SHIT WHAT THE FUCK HE JUMPED INTO ITS MOUTH’

they all lose the bet

theyre panicking until jaskier casually slices his way out of the corpse, covered in guts but unharmed

their bets become wild after that

‘he’s running at it is he getting ready to do an aerial somersault’

‘he’s gonna grab onto its wings and ride on its back’

‘he’s gonna igni that nekker and toss it into the rest of the nekkers’

theyre never able to predict what jaskier does because jaskier is just a very skilled witcher and he also delights in how annoyed his bards get when they guess wrong

the bards are also very feral especially when it comes to defending their witcher

someone insults jaskier? they get assaulted by 3 snarling bards while their dad nods approvingly

someone tries to cheat jaskier out of his payment? lambert mysteriously has a knife and jaskier has to physically hold back eskel and geralt from jumping on the person

eventually word spreads around the continent that julian of kerack has 3 very feral bard protectors and a their scary father who looms at anyone who dares speak a word against julian

this is based on a post i made a few weeks ago, there are more ideas for this in the reblogs of that post - if you want to check it out, i’ll put the link in a reblog!

there are definitely more headcanons for this that i’ve already written and i will post them soon!! hopefully one day i’ll get around to writing this because i LOVE this concept a whole lot

i have more headcanons featuring witcher!jaskier disguising himself as dandelion the bard, his rivalry with cat witcher valdo marx, his friendship with pre-transformation yen and coën, and how ciri fits in with it all - thank u @brothebro for bouncing ideas with me<3

#geraskier #jaskier #witcher!jaskier #bard!geralt #geralt of rivia #eskel #lambert #vesemir #kaer morons #(this is the official tag for them now)#mine*

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eternalgoldfish · 4 years

Text

Steve wakes in Billy’s bed.

Steve never wakes in Billy’s bed.

But the sun is shining, and Steve’s eyes are crusted with sleep, and Billy’s back is warm and solid where it’s pressed against his, their legs touching, Billy’s dorm-issued twin-sized bed hardly large enough for one full-grown man, let alone two. Steve doesn’t remember getting under the covers, or Billy wishing him goodnight.

But the sun is shining, and Steve wonders what Billy would do if Steve rolled over an tucked an arm around his waist, pressed kisses into his neck. Steve wonders what Billy would do if Steve curled them together and called him baby.

They’re wearing underwear, so at some point, they got out of bed.

It’s not that Steve doesn’t remember anything. He remembers sitting in Billy’s car -- almost jerking off in Billy’s car. He remembers whining against Billy’s lips with Billy inside him -- Billy’s hot thighs between Steve’s legs, Billy’s fingernails digging into Steve’s hips.

He remembers falling on Billy, which. The universe couldn’t have let him get away with one bit of dignity in all that, huh?

Up until that point, he thought he’d been doing pretty fucking well, thank you very much.

Billy’d laughed and laughed, and pulled Steve on his side, and jerked Steve off until Steve was gasping and coming, toes curling, feeling drunk, and eager, and toomuchnotenoughpleasedon’tstop.

There’s just a gap in time there, clearly, because fucking into Billy’s fist doesn’t equate to waking up in his sheets.

So, Steve stays like that, back to back with Billy, wonders how much time he has until Billy wakes up, asks him to leave. Wonders how it could go if he pressed a kiss to Billy’s shoulder, danced his fingers over Billy’s arm hair, flicked his foot a certain way. Unlikely butterfly theory shit, and all that.

Then Billy fucking rolls over and wraps an arm around him, giving him a sleepy squeeze. “Dude, why’re you still here?” Billy asks.

And that’s a fucking mixed signal, Jesus Christ. But Steve has been thinking exactly the same thing, so, “If you didn’t want me to stay--”

“What?” Billy lets go of him and sits up, rubbing his hands over his face. His bun is a lop-sided disaster, but the pendent resting against his chest is gold. “It’s Friday,” he says. “You have economics at ten, or whatever, don’t you?”

And Steve does, but.

“Fuck,” Steve gets out of bed and scrabbles for his phone in his jeans, says, “Fuck,” because it’s nine forty-two.

“Bye?” Billy offers.

“Fuck.”

---

Steve’s skipped classes before, but the thing is, his mom has been wild lately about his grades, and he’s kind of bombing economics, so it’s kind of fucking important that he gets there on time, and that he actually fucking listens and takes notes, and behaves.

He’s five minutes late, but he gets there, which is kind of the point.

Not that his mind is on economics.

He’s too hung over, too weirdly wired. There’s something under his skin that he can’t itch, and for once it’s not his dick chubbing up in his jeans because Billy is sending him nudes before lunchtime.

(Although his phone does keep lighting up, so.)

(He thinks it’s maybe his heart chubbing up, and that’s definitely not good for his cholesterol, or the sticky notes left on Billy’s door, or what he’s supposed to tell his parents when they ask about his love life at Christmas.)

When he checks his phone, there are no nudes, just two texts that say,

found ur thong princess

goin 2 jerk off w it

And Steve has no fucking clue what he could have even left at Billy’s, but it definitely wasn’t a thong. He actually doesn’t even think it’s anything, just another one of Billy’s weird ways of making him fuck up in class, but it still twists something in Steve’s chest, something weird-bad. Like thinking about Billy’s other guys when they fuck -- and other girls, apparently, girls who wear thongs, so.

Steve texts back, Not mine, sorry, must be your mom’s.

Billy doesn’t text back a long while, so like, maybe he’s blown his load, or maybe he just thinks Steve is boring for not playing along. Whatever. Steve has like, actual things he needs to be doing.

But with half an hour left in class, Steve’s phone finally lights up, like, My mom left when I was ten.

And well. What? What? Steve didn’t know that, doesn’t even know how Billy feels about that, like, if he’s angry, or upset, or fucking like, anything. He tries to scroll up through their conversations looking for an answer, but he’s coming up with nothing, just raunchy one-liners and sweaty dick picks. Billy’s barbed wire and crucifix, sandy skin, golden hair.

He doesn’t know a fucking thing about Billy.

How Billy’s dick tastes doesn’t count.

---

Steve doesn’t know what to say, so he just doesn’t. Like a fucking coward. He slinks to the library after class like maybe things’ll just work out if he lets them cook for a while. Like maybe all the weirdness from this morning will gloss over if he pretends it didn’t happen.

No cigar.

Billy flops into the chair across the table from him like this is nothing, normal, and Steve guesses it is, because they do study together, sometimes, but not together-together, so. Billy’s not even taking out his books, just tipping his head slightly and running his tongue over his teeth.

“Sorry?” Steve offers, like a moron.

Billy scrunches up his nose. “Sorry for what?”

And Steve doesn’t really know, so.

After a pause, Billy huffs and pushes back his hair. He’s got tacky diamond studs in his ears, the kind that make Steve want to tug on them with his teeth, see what they’re really made out of. Billy crosses his arms, says, “Guess I didn’t tell you about my fucked up family, then?” and they might as well be in the fucking Twilight Zone.

“No, uh,” Steve clears his throat, winces slightly. “We haven’t really had time?” Between all fucking. Yikes.

“Well,” Billy sneers, like, “My mom flaked, my dad is an abusive asshole, my step-mom might as well be a cardboard cut-out of a human, and my step-sister is a huge fucking bitch. I don’t want to talk about it.”

The thing is, in person, Steve can’t just leave Billy on read when he doesn’t know what the fuck to say, so he’s stuck just kind of staring, mouth partly open, running through all the whats and whys and hows. Processing months knowing Billy, fucking Billy after a party, waking up in Billy’s arms, and now whatever the fuck this is.

“You know what, fuck this.”

“Wait--” Steve snaps his books shut as Billy gets to his feet. “Sorry? Just. Sorry, I guess. Fuck. I just didn’t know what to say to that earlier, you know? A thong? That text might not have even been for me.”

“Who else could it have fucking been for?”

“I don’t know? Someone else you’re--”

Billy laughs, kind of mean. “I’m not hooking up with anyone else, you idiot. What was it you said, I ‘haven’t really had time’? I could have had anyone I wanted at that party.”

And Steve knows that, even though Billy is contradicting himself. Knowing it’s not making it any fucking better. Kind of just makes Steve want to die.

“But you wanted to fuck me.”

“Yeah, I wanted to fuck you.”

They’re talking way too loud for being in the quiet study zone.

“Do you want to fuck me right now?”

“I kind of want to punch your face in.”

Steve lets out a slow breath. “Cool, so we’re just back in fucking September again.”

Billy snatches his keys from where he threw them on the table and grabs his bag from the floor. “Shut the fuck up, come on.”

But Billy doesn’t punch him when they get outside the building, like he might have in September. He crowds Steve up against the wall, pushes Steve’s shoulders until his head hits brick. With the way the stairs jut out, there is just enough space between them and the hedges that they probably won’t get seen, and Steve’s worried about no one finding his corpse for about five seconds before Billy’s lips are on his, kisses all clicking teeth and fingers digging into his sweater.

It should make him angry.

It’s kind of erotic.

(It’s kind of confusing, but Billy’s slipping his hand into his sweatpants, and they’re kind of in public, and Steve really doesn’t need a criminal history, but)

He bucks against Billy’s palm, wants his hands on Billy’s skin. Wants to think this is maybe a solution, with Billy’s teeth grazing over his neck, Billy laughing softly in his ear.

“You like to get off in public?” he asks, and Steve is pretty positive he’s shut that down about a million times, but Billy’s kissing him in earnest, playing with his cock, and well.

Steve can’t exactly hide how fucking hard he is when things are already this far gone.

“You got something to say to me, Pretty Boy?”

Steve tugs on Billy’s hair. “Like what?”

“A sorry, maybe, since I’m being so forgiving.”

“I said sorry,” but it’s shaky, kind of airy. “If the campus police--”

“Guess you better be quick, then.”

And Billy is confusing, disgusting, infuriating, gorgeous, and Steve is a complete dumbass, so he whines, “C’mon, I’ll blow you in my room--” which absolutely does not work.

“Or you could blow me here.”

Which Steve is definitely not going to do, but the idea makes his breath catch, has him moaning softly as Billy tugs on his bottom lip. Faintly, he realizes he had more resolve when he was drunk than he does now, and that’s not something he really wants to investigate, not when he’s unzipping Billy’s jeans and jerking Billy in return, heart thumping and skin tingling each time the library door opens and slams shut.

Billy’s teeth are on his cheek, breathing hot in his ear, murmuring, “Someone is going to hear you,” like Billy isn’t also making noise with every breath, fucking into Steve’s hand like they’re on a clock. Like he’s trying to get Steve’s hand fucking pregnant.

“Sorry,” Steve says, mostly a gasp. “Sorry, sorry.”

Meaningless. Billy doesn’t need it, can’t with how smug he is when Steve comes first, with how he almost breaks their cover laughing when he wipes Steve’s come on the inside of Steve’s sweatpants. He comes with his nose in Steve’s neck, hands gripping Steve’s hips, and it’s.

Well, it’s kind of mortifying.

But Billy is laughing again, knocking away Steve’s hand so he can fix himself back in his jeans, and Steve should be angry, but.

“What was that about blowing me on your rich boy sheets?” Billy asks.

They have to change their pants now anyway.

#harringrove #steve harrington #billy hargrove #stranger things #fanfiction #stranger things fanficton #my fic #does anyone even remember that i WRITE THESE i am sorry

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amedetoiles · 4 years

Note

Jiang Cheng for the Give Me A Character thing

[All gifs are mine. No stealing or reposting, thank you. ♥��]

★ How I feel about this character

I love (1) fashionable angry grape!!!! But he also frustrates the fucking hell out of me. sTOP TALKING TO PEOPLE’S BACKS U STUBBORN FUCK I don’t know why I always pick the trashfire characters. Like he has a very demeaning view on the worth of people’s lives when they are not directly under his responsibility, and we know he makes some Choices on this. He’s sharp-tongued, prone to anger and putting his foot in his mouth, and has an intense fear of failure/low self-worth. A truly perfect (horrible) storm when you toss him into this oppressive hierarchical society with an impending war and shitty abusive parents. BUT his earnestness in wanting his family to be safe and together is very moving and heartbreaking. He tries really, really hard through it all actually. It would have been very easy to side with his mother, but instead, he nopes the fuck outta that disaster, takes his sworn brother, and goes to their sister instead. However bitter he is that he’s never good enough for his father, he for the most part makes a rather concerted effort to not let that be Wei Wuxian’s fault. He is (grudgingly) proud of his brother and proud to be Wei Wuxian’s brother. Jiang Cheng is a person who loves and feels so intensely that he doesn’t know what to do with that tornado of emotions, and oh man, is it a journey watching him try suffer.

★ All the people I ship romantically with this character

Zero..? I’m not super interested in romantic ships for Jiang Cheng. I ship my guy with therapy, recovery, and emotional growth with his family. However, I do have a soft spot for meaningful courting combs being kept safe in a handkerchief hidden somewhere in the back corner of a drawer that he never looks at and pretends doesn’t exist but is always acutely aware of.

★ My non-romantic OTP for this character

YUNMENG SHUANGJIE. Need anybody even ask? *screams and screams about it in the corner* Look, they deserve happiness after all the massive fuckery they and the rest of the world put each other and themselves through. I have read excellent meta about letting go and moving forward from unfixable relationships. But– I call bullshit. They’re brothers. Not only that, they want to be brothers. They want to reconcile. They just don’t know how for a lot of traumatic childhood reasons. But they should be allowed the chance to try, now, without all the distractions of war and imminent death. Like sure, they could be have a version of happiness and at peace without each other, but I don’t think they could ever be whole without this relationship. You can’t be Jiang Cheng without Wei Wuxian, and you can’t be Wei Wuxian without Jiang Cheng. Their happy endings include each other, so why not watch them bloom together?

★ My unpopular opinion about this character

Jiang Cheng was Right™ to be upset about the golden core transfer. (Is this an unpopular opinion? I have no idea what’s popular and unpopular.) He wasn’t being an ungrateful whiny little weasel or other what-have-you reasons that I’ve stumbled upon in the, uh, not-so-nice side of fandom. I say this even though Wei Wuxian is hands-down my absolute favorite character whom I will die on this hill defending. But Jiang Cheng was being rightfully angry over being forced to undergo a life-threatening operation without his consent that left his brother crippled, then lied to about it for 13/16 years. Was his sacrifice very noble and heartbreaking? Yes! Did he do it because he loved his brother? Yes!! Was it still selfish as fuck? You betcha son!!! I don’t know how anyone can look at the utter devastation on Jiang Cheng’s face during the golden core reveal and think “stop crying and be grateful.” That shit hurts.

I’m not judging here. For an orphan, who just lost his second family and was wrongfully blamed for it, to then have to hear his little brother say he wants to die, Wei Wuxian would’ve done anything to save him. But it doesn’t make it any less selfish. While we as an audience knew exactly the kind of sacrifice and pain that Wei Wuxian endured, Jiang Cheng didn’t. To him, his sworn brother and best friend simply decided very abruptly without explanation to fuck off to demonic cultivation and then more or less abandoned him after Jiang Cheng sacrificed his core to save him. Of course, that’s not Wei Wuxian’s fault because he didn’t know (funny how that works), but as you can see, we have, before you, the Twin Idiots of Yunmeng.

★ One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon.

OCTOPUS HUG HIS BROTHER AGAIN GDI!! I will forever be mad about Jiang Cheng’s loud ass pining from across the courtyard in full view of like everyone, followed by his stubborn unshed tear and bittersweet smile whispering, “Take Care.” Meanwhile, Wei Wuxian in his pretend post-resurrection zen of “that was all in my past life” only to have the most heartbroken face as soon as Jiang Cheng looks way.

Please gtfo with this goddamn bullshit, and go fucking hug each other, you absolute mORONS.

#the untamed #jiang cheng #wei wuxian #mdzs #cqlwuji #ask meme #陈情令 #!mine #!meta #!gifs #yunmeng shuangjie #i love (1) fashionable angry grape #long post #woot thanks for sending so i could ramble about my grape and play around with photoshop #this creative block of mine has been the wORST #this got very long because i am verbose as usual i apologize

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gra-sonas · 3 years

Note

Ok thank you to Danny for all that info!!!! I also hope that gives some comfort. I saw after s4 got announced some worried the show would then put off malex longer. And while I didn’t think they’d do that no matter what, now it’s even more clear that they’ve been done with the writing of the season for a while. Maybe final editing sure, but this season has been done being planned out (and written) for a while.

It’s nice that we finally got some kind of explanation why the RNM Writers Room account on Twitter’s pretty much dead atm. Although it doesn’t explain why they stopped posting in November already.

At the time the writers were not on hiatus yet. I get that they are all very busy people, but you can’t tell me that out of the 10,080 minutes a week has, none of them found even one minute every two weeks to tweet a pic of a new script??? Initially it was also Chris’s assistant who tweeted stuff.

Oh well, at least I won’t expect more coming from that account any time soon.

As for Malex in S3 vs dragging Malex out until S4

If the writers had never talked to any of the actors EVER (esp. Jeanine, Vlam and Tyler), and would actually be that clueless and incapable of “reading a room” [during and after S2] that they’d delay Malex until S4, then the show’d deserve to tank and never be heard of after S3. Bc that’s what would happen if it’d be yet another entire season of them getting nowhere.

Ratings (live TV ratings anyway, 3+ and 7+ streaming ratings will hopefully improve the numbers at least a little bit) this season will be abysmal either way bc airing new episodes during the summer months is just the most ungrateful thing, but fandom would most certainly be dead after another “fruitless” season.

Bc lbr, it’s not “casual viewers” who have made Vlamburn’s MalexForever merch the most successful drop yet. It’s not “casual viewers” who tweet or post about the show on Tumblr or IG Every. Damn. Day. It’s not “casual viewers” who interact with the cast and the occasional official social media posts.

WE are the people who keep that tiny flickering-for-dear-life RNM spark alive during an endless hiatus. WE are keeping fellow fans entertained and rope in new fans by creating gif sets, drawing fanart, or writing fanfic.

I know, we’re a laughably small group of people (compared to many other fandoms), but man, we’re drumming up interest and we are the people engaging with the content for longer than just 42 minutes a week while the show’s on air. They can’t afford to completely ignore us.

And we’ve been VOCAL about being TIRED and FED UP with all of this BULLSHIT. S2 was a disaster (and not just in regards to Malex), and they know it.

There’s also Tyler, who’s been VERY clear about what he wants to see in S3, and there’s Vlamis, who’s BURNING to see Malex happen (and who’s also a writer himself and clearly sees that Malex are the Golden Goose of RNM - no offense to Echo, they are great, but lbr, they don’t create the same kind of “buzz”).

He wasn’t kidding here. Not really.

Since I don’t deem the writers (and especially Chris) morons, I doubt that they will ignore ALL of the above. Maybe The CW or some higher ups at WB would’ve wanted to drag things out, but I’m like 99.999999999% certain that we will get Malex this season.

Not right away, but around halfway through the season. That’s my prediction at least. Maybe not full on relationship yet, but there’ll be something, and I’m fairly certain, that they’ve already kissed at least once.

I mean, could I be absolutely and completely wrong about this? Sure. I just don’t think I am. Maybe I’m wrong about the “halfway through” thing. Maybe I’m wrong about the kiss (at this point). I’m still convinced that we’ll definitely get Malex this season.

The misery driven show runner’s gone and the dude with a romantic heart the size of New Mexico’s taken over. There’s a bunch of queer people in the writers room, one of the actors portraying half of the ship is queer. Jeanine is ROOTING for Malex, the entire cast is rooting for Malex.

Dragging this out any further would cost them so much more than it would gain them.

Nah, I believe in Malex happening in S3 (and I say this without any 🤡 make up or costume on).

#rnm speculation #rnm spoilers #nonnie asks

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sssrha · 3 years

Text

clambered down the gibbet tree

As the juniors leave, Wei Wuxian beckons Lan Sizhui to say. “A-Yuan,” he asks vaguely, “do you remember those days before I died?”

Because Wen Qing and Wen Ning gave themselves up three months before Wei Wuxian’s death. Because the rest of the Wen Remnants died a week before Wei Wuxian’s death, the same day Wei Wuxian had destroyed the Stygian Tiger Seal. Wei Wuxian had whisked A-Yuan away with him, deeper into the Burial Mounds than he should have gone, all to buy a precious few days of time.

Because there is a week where there was only Wei Wuxian, A-Yuan, and the yawning eternity of the Burial Mounds, and Wei Wuxian doesn’t remember most of it. The few things he does remember, the few memories that he has managed to dredge up…

Or: Lan Sizhui, Lan Jingyi, and Jin Ling decide to ask Wei Wuxian about why everyone used to be so scared of him, and they get the truth, along with a few laughs. Wei Wuxian, on the other hand, gets memories, and he isn’t sure that he likes them.

[part one of dead man’s fate. read it below or on ao3]

“They were terrified of you.”

Wei Wuxian stops humming, pausing his work on whatever talisman he’d been working on at that moment. “What are you talking about?” he asks Lan Jingyi.

Lan Jingyi, Lan Sizhui, and Jin Ling have all crowded into the Jingshi, enjoying the honor of being one of the few people that Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian trust enough to enter their personal living space. They all share a glance, as if they’re steeling themselves to the monumental task of continuing the conversation.

“The entire cultivational world,” Lan Sizhui eventually finishes. “They were scared of you. We grew up hearing stories about various atrocities you had supposedly committed. They say that it took all of the Sects three months to finally manage to wear you down to death, that they all had hundreds of disciples but you single-handedly fought them all off. How?”

Jin Ling snorts. “Yeah. No offense, but your performance with Xue Yang wasn’t exactly impressive.”

Wei Wuxian’s expression morphs into one of faux outrage. “How rude!” he sniffs. I will have you know, I was not in the best shape during that whole disaster!” And then, sobering just slightly, he admits, “And don’t let Xue Yang’s demeanor fool you—he may have been…unhinged, but he was certainly powerful. He managed to recreate half of my Seal and almost all of the power that would have entailed.” Really, Xue Yang was a genius—why, if he’d found himself coreless in the Burial Mounds for three months, Wei Wuxian suspects that he would have been able to discover a good bit of the things that Wei Wuxian had managed to. Luckily for everyone, that’s now how it turned out.

Lan Jingyi scrunches his nose. “That man was crazy and…and horrible!” Jin Ling snorts, nodding along, as Lan Sizhui puts up his arms to calm them.

“Ah,” Lan Sizhui says, “let’s not talk ill of the dead. What’s done is done.”

“That doesn’t make his actions okay,” Jin Ling points out.

“Well, no, they don’t, but we can curse him all we want and it will never make a difference.”

Wei Wuxian snickers. “Aiyah, Sizhui, if everyone had your mindset, then I wouldn’t have become the boogey-man. Imagine, everyone just choosing not to talk about me, not to acknowledge me—it would have been a peaceful existence!” But then he glances down at his arm, considering. “But then Mo Xuanyu may not have summoned me, and I wouldn’t get to be here with you three and Lan Zhan. Ah, it’s a good thing, after all.”

“You weren’t…peaceful?” Lan Jingyi asks. “When you were dead, I mean.”

Jin Ling immediately smacks him over the head, screeching, “What kind of question is that, you moron?”

Lan Sizhui was already attempting to calm them down when Wei Wuxian waved him away. “No, no, it’s fine. And…no, I don’t think I was. I certainly wasn’t a ghost or monster of any sort, but…well, I’ve heard the Sects spent years trying to summon me. I’ve seen the monuments they’ve placed in the Burial Mounds. None of that helped me have any sort of peaceful rest.”

“But they really did try to summon you for years,” Jin Ling says. “Uncle says that every sect would send fifty disciples, at least, to help.”

This makes Wei Wuxian pause. “…really? That much?” He had no way of knowing, back when he was dead. It had all washed over him—and the summoning attempts all washed away Lan Wangji’s Inquiry, a trickle against a ferocious river. It makes sense when there were so many people, he supposes, but still. “Fifty each?”

“They were terrified of you,” Lan Jingyi repeats.

Wei Wuxian makes a vague sound in the back of his throat. “Well, you’re right. They really were, weren’t they?” He absentmindedly traces the brushstrokes on the talisman he’d been working on. “I was strong back then, I guess. Stronger than I ever was in Mo Xuanyu’s body…even in those last days, I’m pretty sure. And I do mean physically. Mo Xuanyu, bless his soul, can’t seem to lift anything stronger than a medium-ish rock.” He sighs, forlorn. “I swam laps in Yunmengs lakes every day when I was younger. I was very muscular as a teenager, you see. Nearly as tall as your Hanguang-jun! And my shoulders…well, I spent much more time looking at my Lan Zhan than at myself, but I think our shoulder-width was comparable. Maybe mine was even wider, actually? I can’t recall.”

“Nearly as tall as Hanguang-jun?” Lan Jingyi demands. “No way! You couldn’t be that tall, you’re…” He doesn’t seem to know how to continue his sentence.

“What?” Wei Wuxian says slyly, leaning forward on his table. “I’m small? Petit? So cute and tiny for your Hanguang-jun!” Even as he says such shameless things, he’s restraining laughter.

The three disciples go red and Wei Wuxian finally gives in. “You three!” he says, laughing and wheezing all at once. “Are you saying that my personality didn’t suit my body? How rude! I don’t need to be this small to be shameless! And given the chance, I would have let Hanguang-jun manhandle me all he wanted, even in that body!”

“Senior Wei…” Lan Sizhui says, beet-red. “Let’s talk about something else?”

“No, no, this is too precious—but, ah, I will admit, I didn’t act the same for those last few years.” He finally manages to calm down. “It was…well. Demonic cultivation harmed both my body and my temperament, and that’s not even touching on how much demonic cultivation I used, and the lack of a golden core to fall back on properly when I finally noticed it eating away at me. I would have been fine, I think, if I also had my core. Well, theoretically, anyway.” He pauses. “…though, I will admit that trauma most definitely played a large role in it.” He doesn’t elaborate and they don’t ask him to.

“Well, I don’t know exactly what happened,” Lan Jingyi says suddenly, looking painfully earnest, “but I think Senior Wei was great! You helped the Wen Remnants—and Senior Wen!”

“And you helped win the war, didn’t you?” Jin Ling points out.

Wei Wuxian considers. “Yes,” he says finally, “I guess I did. I’m sure that the sects would have been fine without me, but…I’m proud to say that I helped them win the war in a substantial way.” As the teenagers smile encouragingly at him, Wei Wuxian makes sure to smile back, and keep his own thoughts to himself: he may be proud that he helped in the war, but he’s certainly not proud of how he did it.

Lan Sizhui, taking control of the conversation, decides to steer it into safer territory. “Senior Wei,” he says, “can you tell us about your time in the Jiang Sect?”

Wei Wuxian’s smile turns mischievous. “Oh, can I ever? Come closer, come closer—I have a few tales that Jiang Cheng will kill me for telling anyone, so, of course, I’ll tell them to you three.” Naturally! As Jiang Cheng’s (former) Shixiong, it’s simply his duty to embarrass him!

The evening wears away like that, with laughter from both sides. But—well, Wei Wuxian is a genius. He can do two things at once. So, while he laughs and laughs and laughs, he remembers.

His memories are…not complete, not in any sense of the word. Some things he remembers so vividly, and others have been ripped away, leaving behind only an empty abyss, spaces where he knows life took place, but the only evidence of it seems to be the stories of others. How many times had Lan Wangji brought something up—something sweet and kind that Wei Wuxian had done for him, back when nothing had gone wrong—only for Wei Wuxian to have no memory of it at all? Numerous, countless.

But Wei Wuxian does remember those days in the Burial Mounds the first time around. He remembers why he’d only set up the Wen Remnants in the hinterlands instead of venturing further inward, where they would have been safer from the sects. He remembers the bloody path he carved during the war, the way he once single-handedly slaughtered so many Wen soldiers that no one could take a single step without staining their boots in blood. He remembers the satisfaction of reaching into Wen Zhuliu’s abdomen and ripping out his golden core, of smashing it to dust with three fingers and laughing as the man fell.

He remembers all of this, and he remembers the only emotion that he felt at those moments: complete and utter satisfaction.

One thing he doesn’t remember is Lan Wangji—during the war, at least. He’s heard stories about the fights he and Lan Wangji had, about their rivalry, ones that Lan Wangji himself had reluctantly confirmed. They used to fight a lot. Lan Wangji doesn’t talk about it often, but sometimes, in the dead of night, when everything feels safe and warm and far away, Lan Wangji will admit things to him: the way Wei Wuxian’s laughter used to send chills down his spine, the way Wei Wuxian’s actions bleached his world black and white, the way Wei Wuxian’s touch seemed so warm—with blood that wasn’t his own.

He cries when he admits these things, when he tells Wei Wuxian that he wasn’t just scared for him, but also scared of him. All Wei Wuxian can do is hold him close and whisper assurances into his ear. ‘It’s fine,’ he says into the dead of the night, ‘you did nothing wrong. You still loved me, Lan Zhan, even after all of that. I don’t deserve you, you’re too good.’

Because, no matter what Lan Wangji tells him…Wei Wuxian knows he was a bad person. He knows he caused pain and he delighted in it. Wen Qing was lucky to find him only after the war, because if she had come to him during it…Wei Wuxian isn’t completely sure that he would have let her say a word before he took action, and that knowledge horrifies him.

As for his last days…Well.

As the juniors leave, Wei Wuxian beckons Lan Sizhui to say. “A-Yuan,” he asks vaguely, “do you remember those days before I died?”

Lan Sizhui looks at him in confusion, then realization, and then…if someone were to ask Wei Wuxian, he would describe Lan Sizhui’s next expression as appraisal. But the smile is back quickly, as warm as ever. “Ah, Senior Wei, I’ve only remembered bits and pieces—most of my memories from before I came to the Cloud Recesses are gone.”

That is not an answer. He lets Lan Sizhui go, anyway, and as he watches his form disappear out the door of the Jingshi, all he can think about is that stare. So familiar. He can’t quite put his finger on it.

But then Lan Wangji returns and all of Wei Wuxian’s worries are swept away.

Ah, he’ll think more about it later, then. For now, for now, he’ll be happy with his husband in their home.

(Until the other shoe drops.)

#ok so this is supposed to give off horror vibes #the next installments are gonna be very horror-heavy #hopefully i actually write them at some point lol #wei wuxian #lan sizhui #lan jingyi #jin ling #yiling patriarch wei wuxian #lan wangji #wangxian #mdzs #mdzs fanfic #cql #the untamed #sssrha fics

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queensdivas · 3 years

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Peonies Chapter 5

This took me a little longer than expected because school has me wrapped up in papers and research projects. Someone do this work for me so I can sleep since I haven’t slept well in nights!!!!!!

But anyway. This chapter was interesting to write and I hope that y’all enjoy!!!

Next Chapter

Previous Chapter

Masterlist

Damn him. Damn him damn him! Grabbing the closest random vase to chuck it against the wall. Me! Sleeping with Peter? I would rather die in a pile of shit that had smallpox than sleep with that moron! It’s been a day and I still find those words making my stomach curl! Maybe another vase? Ah these this naked porcelain statue. Chucking it against the wall as it finally made me feel a little better.

How did I allow one man to have such control over my emotions! To flood my mind, body, and soul as if he is a flash flood in the valley! I don’t even..I’m going to drive myself into a pit of never ending darkness. That damn man with those...beautiful blue pools of his eyes that sparkle in the sunlight. I’ve never seen such beautiful eyes in my life. Those strong cheekbones that could cut someone with a knife.

FUCK!

Maybe write a letter..I imagine the family is missing me and I’ve only written two letters so far here. Father is probably worried that I’ve been converted to the Orthodox ways. (Well I’ve been breaking the laws of the catholic church but luckily these people are too busy with themselves). I sat down at my desk to begin thinking on how to send back a positive message when I’m dying on the inside.

Dear Father.

Remind me to never make allies with Russia if I ever become Queen of Italy. These people are uncultured, disgusting horny toads! It feels like I have walked into a brothel except they’re not a bunch of dirty poor people. Now it’s a vast amount of extremely broad people on the court.

I’m not asking for you to save me or come galavanting from the homeland to come save me. Catherine still needs a lot of help and it’s getting worse before it gets better. To think that I gave the Russians the benefit of the doubt because I knew Catherine would be a little sensitive to the whole situation. But this is just horrible. I literally witnessed the Emperor laying with someone in the middle of the hall!

This is definitely a reminder of what not to do when I become Duchess at least. No wild parties at court more than once a week, and no.

My chamber doors bursted open to see Marial storming in, closing the doors behind her. She turned her back and leaned against the door. A panic expression was written on her face as I was waiting for an explanation.

“Yes Marial?” Asking as I continued to work on my letter.

“We’ve got a problem?” I took a sip of my wine that I had sitting out with me.

“Don’t we always?”

“It’s Catherine.” Putting down the quill as I turned around in my chair to stare at her.

“Is Catherine alright?”

“Now that she's Leo , yes. But the ladies..they did something bad. Not extremely bad but bad.” Is this a situation where I should be extremely worried? Worried? Or just a pat on the shoulder should make her feel better.

“After we passed out the eggs to the ladies of the court, Lady Svenska invited her to the tea party she threw, they were in a dance and one of the ladies punched her in the noise and caused her nose blood.” No. NO! NOT WHILE I’M AROUND!

“Are they still at their dance?” Popping up from the chair as I walked over to my trunk.

“Yes. They will be for another hour or two.” Which means pastries and tea will be required. Did I bring it? I really thought I brought it YES!

“Please let Catherine know that I will be handling these women the way they should’ve been. Tossed back down to the station they truly belong in, not what they thought.” Ordering Marial as I rang my bell for Fernanda. She came in as I placed the bottle on the end of the desk.

“Yes M’Lady.”

“Did we bring tea dance attire?” Asking her as she nodded.

“Great. Get my full attire ready, I’m going to way these peasants.” AS before you know I hate wearing the wigs, corsets, layers of face paint, and the dress. But duty calls in this situation because no one lays a hand on my cousin!

Taking off my boots as I heard someone come running into my room as I waited to see who it was. Catherine slid in as I was still sitting there taking off my boots. If she thought she could talk me out of this then she’s surely mistaken.

“Chiara please don’t!” Catherine begged as Fernanda came in with the dress as Catherine looked like she was going to explode.

“You don’t have any idea how this country works and if you do something like this then you could ruin everything I’ve worked so hard for.” Catherine stood directly in front of me as I leaned back against the chair.

“Well your last plan turned out to be a disaster and look what they did!”

“Minor setbacks tend to happen in these situations.”

“You’d call that minor?” Pointing directly as her nose as I got up from my desk.

“Please Chiara just because this works in your country doesn’t mean the same thing here. Peter will see this as an attack and were right in the middle of a war! He would be more than happy to send soldiers just because you caused half the women of the court to suffer.” Rolling my eyes as I began unbuttoning my shirt.

“Might I make a suggestion?” Marial poked her head into the bedroom as we both turned to face her.

“There’s always smacking me down.” See we wouldn’t be in this situation if Catherine would’ve just listened to Marial and I!

“Yes! Look if you don’t smack her down then I’ll be taking this matter into my own hand. And of course it has to be in public. And you’ll really have to say something to really piss off Catherine.” She knows that if she doesn’t do it then I’ll be doing what I do best.

“The horse fucking.”

“Cause allegedly you did. Though I don’t know how you would but maybe if you sort of..”

“Fine. Tonight Elizabeth is throwing a party in honor of the archbishop being selected so I guess we’ll do it there. Can we talk privately?” Catherine whispered as I looked at Fernanda to leave the room. Marial followed suit to close the bedroom door for me to sit back down at my desk.

“Though I appreciate you willing to avenge my attack. I think you enjoy getting ahead of yourself.”

“We’re family. No one hurts la mia famiglia.” I turned away from her to walk over to the small liquor table that sits in my bedroom. Pouring her a glass of wine then grabbing mine from my desk.

“Here. Something to make you feel a little at home.” Handing it to her then she looked at the bottle.

“Gaja Ornellaia. Dark and sweet.” Clinking glasses together as we both took a sip. Motioning her to sit as she sighed.

“How do you deal with women of the court? Sucking up to them sounds torturous and there’s no way that I can stoop to their level of living.” Catherine sat down on one of the loveseats for me to sit down at my desk.

“This court is one that I won’t be forgetting till the day I die. It’s one that has been let loose to do their own bidding. For the moment I wouldn’t suck up to them, but obviously we’re on a mission to make everyone in favor of you instead of Peter. So gifts. Not like your golden eggs but something that will truly aid them in their boring day to day lives. Maybe a better doctor for instance, or even a dentist. Lord knows how rotted their teeths are and could use at least some sort of cleaning. Though they say their modern, it’s more a barbaric modern.”

“You’re the empress Catherine. You have a lot more power at your fingertips then you realize and they’re trying to make you inferior because you’re new to the court. If you really wanted to you could strip down Svenska from her station if you truly wanted to. Lord knows I would at this point in my mind.”

“The ladies are led by Svenska with the amount of money..”

“Who's the Empress of Russia? Who rules Russia? The donkey face can’t even work up the courage to hit you she sends one of her ladies to do it. I really need to find that mean bone in your body and drag it out of you. I’d hate to say it but there is no such thing as a loving Queen. Most of us who are in royal power must rule with an iron fist but that doesn’t mean to be a monster onto the people like your moron of a husband.”

“Be truthful and fair to the people. Gain their trust in the way they need it, not you.” Close enough.

“Tell me Chiara. What exactly were you going to do with the ladies if I hadn’t come by to stop you?”

“Remember that cruise two years ago?”

“Chiara!”

“What! It worked last time, why wouldn’t it work a second time.” It really would’ve and if something like that happens again while I’m around it will work again.

Catherine put her glass of wine down to then lean a little more towards me which caused me to lean back against the seat.

“You’re a lot more bitter than usual. Is everything alright?” No. Everything is not alright! How can any of this be alright! This country! These people! Backwoods! Horny toads that just do whatever they Goddamn please without respecting..Oh it’s not even that! Fucking Grigor accusing me of sleeping with the moron Emporer who has a mind of a child! How dare he accuse me! I wouldn’t have any sort of sexual contact with him if he was the last man on this earth. If the gates of hell were open and the choice for me to go into Heaven was having sex with Peter I still wouldn’t partake in it!

“Peachy. Just absolutely peachy.” Chugging the rest of my wine to then throw my empty glass against the wall.

“You know that scared me for the first few weeks of being here. But now..” Finishing her drink to then chuck it against the wall. Shattering against it as she laid down on the love seat.

“But now it’s become a permanent sound in my mental wallpaper.” Grabbing the bottle to then walk over to where she was laying then sat down next to her. Getting comfortable as I pulled the cork out with my teeth to spit it across the room. Taking a drink to then give her the bottle.

I’ve yet to look at the top of my room since I moved in. They’re cupids that are dancing around in the clouds. Not sure who exactly designed this room but those cupids...they're so masculine..Why are they so muscular? I know no baby ever comes out this muscular no matter who the father is. Zeus himself could not ever make a baby this muscular!

“Catherine. Catherine. Lookup.” Pointing directly at them as her head tilted in curiosity.

“They’re cupids.”

“Yes they’re cupids. But have you ever noticed that they’re extremely muscular. They’re babies and have more muscles than Zeus himself. Just look!” We began laughing as the bottles continued to go back and forth between the both of us. This is exactly what I think we both needed. No men, no Government, not worrying about anything and just laughing at extremely masculine cupids.

“How is Leo? How is having a lover in your life?”

“It’s..intoxicating and confusing. When I first arrived I planned to make Peter fall in love with me as I am a romantic. Then tossed into a wheel of uncertainty. Leo says that he has fallen for me and..it feels so wrong from everything I’ve once believed in.” That’s one word to describe everything I’ve gone through so far.

“Our worlds are messy. We always think that it will be easy as those before us. But the world...people..him..it’s unclear.”

What am I doing? I’m to be a Grand Duchess in the next year or two, there’s a possibility of being a Queen and I’m in a tiny crisis on how to deal with some Russian that’s just using to get back at his wife? That didn’t even feel like the case till he brought up Peter and the accusation. But...look what he’s going through in his life as I imagine he doesn’t want his wife to be behaving like this.

Grigor...Grigor...for some reason the thought of his arms being wrapped around me is helping me fall asleep..so peacefully. He does this thing with his thumb where it glides up and down where it’s placed and it brings such comfort.

After drinking for a little longer than predicted. Catherine and I ended up sleeping directly where we were sitting for more than two hours. Alcohol is such a good night medicine. Fernanda came in to wake us as we both felt like brand new people and we had to get ready for Elizabeths party.

Per usual I truly didn’t feel like getting shoved into a dress and from what I’ve gathered about Elizabeth this party will end up becoming a clothes off party. So why not just dress the part but not get involved. Besides...I want to piss off Grigor for his accusation so why to wear as little as possible for something he’s not receiving.

My beautiful crafted corset that was pink with gold floral designs all around it. My plain white long sleeve shirt was underneath the corset with my nice pair of black pants and boots. Quite the scandal some would say. (But as you know it’s me just trying to be comfortable.)

“Boot dagger.” Fernanda tossed the sheathed knife onto the bed as I placed my boot on the bed and placed it in the boot. And now we’re set.

“Feel free to let loose tonight. I should be able to get myself ready to sleep and probably will be extremely intoxicated.” She nodded as I fixed my shirt so that my chest would be a little more exposed than most times.

Wait, something is missing. Rings yes, boot knife yes, and OH! Necklace! Walking to the desk to pull out my jewelry box to pull out my pearl necklace. The first few rows of pearls were tight around the neck itself then relaxed across my chest. Oh yes. Much better.

Walking out of my bedroom to already hear the madness going down near the end of the hallway. I really need a break from this palace. I’m in Russia and I should be going into the cities to at least see them! Maybe Catherine would be up for a trip to Moscow or Saint Petersburg sometime soon. I think that it would do her some good to go out and see the people to get a complete understanding of the country that she lives in. It does no good for a rising Empress to preach about change when she hasn’t met her own subjects. At home I would constantly go out and about to see my people. Support their businesses and make sure everything was doing okay. Yes her and I are in different situations but going out every once in a while wouldn’t hurt.

Walking into the party to see people were holding snakes, animals, and...a bird? I must admit this is one interesting party. Reminds me of when we had an animal exposition a few months back and I got to see a Tiger from China! But I imagine that would be impossible here due to the fact that the tiger would eat all of them up.

Looking around to see the ladies were sitting around the fireplace laughing as I wanted to choke the donkey face till she turned a different color. Ah and George. The Emporers would be where you had the audacity to become angry when Grigor and I were fooling around. The hypocrisy that spills from her mouth is exhausting.

Speaking of Grigor, where is he? Trying not to look suspicious as I searched the room to see him sitting with Peter and children as they drink wine? They look around 10? Mother didn’t even let me touch a drop besides communion till I turned at least 12! He looked directly at me to form a smile on his face. Maybe I over blew the whole situation. Tends to be a problem of mine which I need to fix.

“These parties..so interesting.” Catherine commented as we continued into the party. A waiter passed by with one glass as I snuck it for myself.

“Remember the plan.” Winking as we both sat down with the bitches.

“So. Tell me of your lives here.”

“All is bliss in the court of Peter.”

“Of course life is bliss here. But if tiny improvements could be made, and I could help you as Empress, that would gladden my heart to be a friend and a use to you all.”

“Why don’t you stop the war?” Why don’t you stop being a child? Impossible. They all chuckled as I wanted to scream.

“I will note it down. But it is probably beyond me at this point. Maybe more immediate things.” I can’t chime in on this because I don’t really live here full full time. (Though it feels like I’ve been living here for ages!)

“Well, the carriages are always in disrepair. They do not fix it fast enough.” George chimed in. Always being helpful in gaining her own glory.

“I see. I shall look into it. How is your son Tatyana? Boris. He was unwell?”

“Fucking Chekhow saw him, but...We need better doctors than the Chekhovs. Boris coughs blood, and the fool puts leeches on his throat. I do not know doctoring but it seems ridiculous. And my dearest Boris gets sicker.” I truly can not imagine the horror of how this country would handle an outbreak of any sort of disease. Even if precautions are made to keep them at bay.

“He basically killed Raisa.”

“Exactly.”

“Indeed. We must have the most modern medicine. We shall bring a new doctor from France.”

“What a friend you are to us. How is Leo?” Is her life so dull that she must pry her big disgusting nose into Catherines love affair? Looking over to Catherine who looked uncomfortable for just a moment then smiled.

“He makes my skin tingle and my heart gladden.” They all giggled as I wanted to scream. It’s a private affair!

“Surely more detail than that. If you really are our friend, we will need you to open up to us, if it is true and we are to feel you love us.”

“Shut up, whore!” OH SHIT! Taking a sip of my wine after Marial yelled at her. In reality I’m trying not to laugh because holy shit that’s funny!

“She cannot…”

“Apologize!” Her and Catherine exchanged a look as I was ready. C’mon Catherine! Use that mean bone!

“I will see her later. Go back to your quarters, Marial.”

“NEEEEEIGH!” Catherine stood up to slap the living shit out of her to the point she almost fell down on the ground. Everyone gasped as I was sipping my wine trying not to laugh at these dumbasses.

“Do not ever do that! That goes for all of you. Am I heard?” The ladies in the circle slightly nodded as my eyes were directly on Svenska. I know the ass face was responsible for this mess and I’ll be dealing with it even after this. Oh did you think I forgot about the whole tea dance? Far from it.

“I have spoken to my husband on this, and he sees it as a sleight on him. If it is heard again, no matter what family, what wealth, they will be a servant stripped of everything and we will slap the shit out of them on a daily basis! Am I heard?” And that is how you do it!

“Marial, wipe the blood from your nose. Pour me wine.” Catherine sat down as Marial began to pour her wine.

“Now, other things you ladies need from me? Lady Svenska, can I help you in any way?”

“No Empress. I am satisfied.”

“Mmm. Marvelous. Good day then.” Catherine got up from her seat as I stayed exactly where I was for a few minutes. I’m waiting to see if ass face will say something smart right after Catherine has left.

“What are you waiting for exactly?” Svenska commented as my focus went directly to her.

“Oh just..watching..and waiting.” Svenska turned back towards Tatyana as I noticed George was staring directly at me. What could she possibly want?

“I think we need to talk.”

“Need or want? I have absolutely nothing to say to you.”

“I find that hard to believe.” Her eyebrow was raised at me as I put my drink down.

“And I find it hard to believe that you’re a good woman of any sort. If you want to talk then talk. You have the floor and are ready to tell me all about how you’re the victim and everything you do is for status. Truthfully you enjoy every moment of it that you go out of your own way to spend all your time with him.”

I waited for a few moments for her to say something back against my statement but what does she have against me? Being a whore? She’s already got that covered in her department so what would that even do against me?

“The Emperor is about to announce the new patriarch to the court.” A servant told us as I got up from my chair to then walk away. Stupid woman.

We walked into a large sitting room as the new patriarch was wearing his garments as Peter was standing on top of the love seat. I stood next to Leo as I noticed Grigor was coming to stand next to me.

“The new Patriarch! Huzzah!”

“Huzzah!”

“Oh! To the Empress! She is finding her feet here, and her fists.” Took her a minute but we managed to get it out of her.

“Apparently she fucked a horse before she got here!” Damn it….

“For I am all for fucking and after Archie blesses us we will all begin!”

“Huzzah!” Glad to know that after everyone is blessed that they’re basically saying yeah God take it back. Didn’t need it in the first place.

“Can we talk?” Grigor whispered for me to raise my eyebrow.

“You and your wife truly love to talk don’t you?” Not looking directly at him as I kept my head straight forward.

“Please Chiara. I really….” Maybe he is sorry. I feel like this is becoming a usual song and dance for us these past few weeks. Nodding for the two of us to turn around and walk out of the room.

We started down the hallway keeping absolutely silent towards each other. Who exactly was going to start this conversation? Not me because at this moment I have nothing to say on the matter besides saying sorry for being a little over dramatic, and that’s it. He stopped walking to move in front of the fireplace to warm himself up a little. Turning towards me to let out a large sigh.

“I’m sorry...I’m sorry that I accused you of sleeping with Peter because of my own personal problems. It wasn’t right and I truly feel horrible for saying that…” I could tell that he wanted to say much more but was working on it. My hands were behind my back as I waited for him to finish his statement.

“Grigor it’s not a..

“Chiara I’ve fallen for you.” He interrupted me as I was confused by what he just said. What?

“I have fallen for you Duchess Chiara.” It sent shivers down my spine. What why? We’ve only known each other for a few weeks and now he’s fallen. Oh no...no no no.

“I am not the romantic type Grigor. I am not like my cousin who will bring you a twig to show love and unity. I..I don’t care for it.” Truth be told I’ve been avoiding the whole love marriage life ever since I was born. If I marry then I lose everything. The power will go to my husband and I am left to be nothing but a baby making device for my husband.

Yet...this feels different. I feel as if I should be comforting Grigor to hold one another. If I could keep him as a lover for eternity I might be okay with this idea. But marriage is something that I plan on never happening in my life.

“I don’t expect you to have fallen because why would you have fallen for a piece of shit like myself. You’re right about me..I’m nothing but a weakling who can’t even stand up against the moron himself..” He fell to his knees as he was beginning to have some sort of attack on the floor in front of me. Quickly approaching him as I got down on my knees.

“Grigor take a breath.” Rubbing his back as he was trying to catch his breath.

“My mind is beginning to chip away right before my eyes Chiara..” Oh no..no no. Holding him close to me as I kissed the top of his forehead. Okay so me swearing off love may just be a phase like mother said! Or is this just me feeling bad. I’ll figure that out later!

“This..this is just a rocky path in the road of life. We all go through it and eventually it becomes better. Just have to go through the rough path in order to see that beautiful green field on the other...this isn’t helping is it.” He shook his head as I thought I heard a door opening.

“A weakling… I’m such a weakling..” I’d rather the court not see Grigor falling apart in front of their eyes. Laughing was echoing from the hall as I had to get him out of here.

“Let’s go somewhere else.” Telling him as I lifted him up from the ground. We were stumbling around a little as we quickly walked through the palace till we made it to the apartments. No this isn’t meant for me to tackle him and have rough sex. Rather..rather not let the court see him breaking down when he’s the most important members of Peters court.

Opening the door to my apartment as he walked in then slamming the doors shut. Locking it as he fell onto the love seat. His breathing did calm down a little bit yet he was still in some sort of a panic state. Water.

“God how am I a man? Any man would’ve killed the other man for sleeping with his wife..you 're right..” Okay now I’m feeling horrible. I poured him a glass of water to then sit on my knees next to Grigor.

“Drink some water.” He sat up to take the glass from my hand.

“How could anyone love me...I’m such a coward. I can’t even fuck my wife...she has to go to someone else in order to fill that void...that desire that I can not fufill.” Well that’s utter bullshit because being railed by him was marvelous.

“Stop that! There is no need to bring down yourself because of your wife being a total whore. Grigor I’m sorry...I’m sorry for being such a cunt towards you. We both come from completely different worlds and I have to remember sometimes that this isn’t home..You’re not a weakling or a coward. This is just a difficult situation that probably doesn’t help that I’ve been acting so horrid towards you..” His glass was empty as I took it from him to place it down on the ground. My hands cupped his cheeks as he held onto them, he closed his eyes to put his forehead against mine.

“May I stay here for the night?” Grigor asked for me to nod.

“I can’t spend another night alone. Not another night…” Sitting up to then wrap my arms around him. He picked me up to then pull me into his lap which made me giggle a little. It’s kind of fun just being hoisted up into someone's lap.

“I don’t plan on making love with you tonight Chiara.” Oh really? This is rather shocking because I figured he would’ve found a way to seduce me into the bed.

“And why is that? Got tired of me already? We’re those three days….or five..still a little blurry with the amount of wine and food

“Never. You are the only good thing that has come from my dreadful existence here.” Somehow I think he’s right.

“I’m really wanting a glass of vodka. Care for some?” Asking as he was rubbing his eyes.

“Please.” Climbing off to walk over on my refilled liquor shelf. Two of my biggest glasses filled with vodka as I imagine it’s like water to him at this point. Just like how wine is like water, just drink it like water. Sitting back down on his lap to give him the glass, clinking out glasses as we both chugged down the vodka. HOLY SHIT THIS BURNS GOING DOWN STILL HOLY CRAP!

“Still getting used to it aren’t you?” He began to laugh as I shook my head then blinked a few times.

“Indeed. But it acts fast and my fingers are already feeling wonderful. How about another?” I’m just going to grab the glass bottle so I can stay comfortable on his lap. Skipping to the bottle as I pulled the cork off and placed it on the table.

“If you would’ve told me when we first met that I would be letting you sit on my lap after our first introduction. I would’ve thought they were mad.” Good times from a few weeks ago when I had a large stick up my ass. Sitting back down to take a swing from the bottle then hand it to him.

“Or me having some sort of relationship with you after I almost beat you with my sabre. How the world changes before our own eyes.” We both nodded to continue passing the glass bottle back and forth to one another.

I could feel it coursing through my veins like water rushing down a river after a rainstorm. It feels incredible! Vodka is truly a wondrous type of alcohol that loves to scorch my throat. Oof. As much as I would love to sit on his lap for a long time, my bed looks absolutely enticing for us to crawl in. Hopefully he wouldn’t mind crawling into bed.

“Would you mind if we got into bed? Your lap is comfortable but my bed just feels so much better. Please Grigor?” Without questioning it. He sat up as my legs wrapped around his back for us to start heading towards the bed. As much as I love not being pounded into oblivion in this position..this is fun! Wait for the corset. I can not get into my sleep mindset if I’m stuck wearing this cage.

He put me down on the bed as I sat on my knees to then begin taking off my corset. Crap Fernanda really tied the bow up high to the point I can’t reach it. His fingers began messing with the string as I felt the air entering my body once again. Tossing it across the room to untuck my shirt from my pants.

“Thank you.” Turning to face him as we leaned in to kiss one another. Softly kissing one another as he placed his hand on my cheek.

“Picnic with me tomorrow. There’s a beautiful tree that the leaves just dance with the wind that is just beautiful.” Yes. I said that I wanted to get some sort of fresh air and the timing could not be more perfect!

“It’s only been one day since I’ve been away from your bed, and I’ve missed the way it feels. Warm..comforting, can be a bit rough but eventually I become in a state of relaxation.” Grigor became comfortable down on the bed as I joined him on top of the covers. He placed his hand on my cheek as I kissed his hand.

“I know you don’t love me or have fallen for me...but thank you.” He drifted to sleep as I began to scoot closer to him. He must’ve felt me move because I was pulled closer to him and tucked into his chest.

This is nice.

Very nice.

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aveyna · 4 years

Text

The Seal of Approval

SUMMARY: In which Nuru liberates a seal, Yong gets adopted, Hugo is a gay pining disaster, and Varian is the sole voice of reason.

Alternatively, Nuru partakes in the age old tradition of toppling a monarchy.

[NOTE] Apparently the desire to see Varian get slapped by a seal was strong, judging by my last post.

AO3 LINK

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“Can I at least take him for everything he’s worth?”

“For the last time, no, Hugo. You cannot be rude to the king, you cannot antagonize him, you cannot make fun of his beard, and hell, you definitely cannot kill him.” Varian sighs. After their last run in with Donella and her goons, they had just barely made it to the kingdom of Equis. He is only so close to choking this brilliantly stupid idiot with those dumb goggles he refuses to wear like they’re intended to. “I’d like to sleep under a roof for one lousy evening.”

“Oh, come on, hairstripe. If not thievery, can’t I commit a little murder?” Hugo whines, placing his arm dramatically over his eyes. “What else do I have to live for?”

It’s during times like these that Varian almost wishes he could go back to the way he used to be, before he and the princess had made amends. His younger self would not have hesitated to kick this sorry excuse of an alchemist to the curb. He loves him, truly, he does. The same can be said for Nuru and Yong, but he has just about had it. He had left on this journey in-search of his mother, but instead, he was stuck on babysitting duty.

Distantly, he wonders if this is how Eugene felt with his past failures on the hot water boilers. He visibly shudders at the memory.

No, let’s not think about that.

“Then die.” Varian glares up at the taller man who was currently leaning on him. Scowling, he removes the other arm that he had perched on-top of his head.

“Don’t be so heartless,” Hugo laughs. He smirks at Varian, but it softens ever so slightly. It seems almost fond and gentle, but quickly, it is wiped off from his face. “Huh, you really do make for a very nice armrest.”

“Glad that’s all I’m good for,” Varian grumbles, brows furrowed in annoyance.

Yong jumps up, waving his arms erratically as if he needed to expend that much effort in garnering Varian’s attention.

“Yes, Yong?” Varian asks, smiling pleasantly at his shorter friend.

“You’re also pretty!” Yong says. The color from Hugo’s face immediately drains.

“Wha—” Varian laughs, but it does nothing to dissuade the complete awkwardness of this situation.

“That’s what Hugo always says!”

“Haha, no, my dear Yong,” Hugo exclaims, speaking a bit too fast and loud. He had rushed over to the pyromaniac, clamping his hands over him. “He’s got it completely wrong. I never said you looked pretty.”

“No, but I heard—” Yong breaks free Hugo’s grip, only to be interrupted.

“Boys, boys, as entertaining as this may be, we’re drawing a crowd,” Nuru says, lips upturned in a half smile. Her golden eyes are lit up in mirth. Clearly, Varian can tell she finds amusement in his misery.

He raises his head, and…it looks like her assessment was correct. Surprisingly, a large number of people had gathered, eyes boring into the strange group with varying degrees of confusion and judgment. Yong had immediately jumped at the chance to talk with some kids his age who were conspiratorially whispering to one another as they pointed towards Varian.

Yong nods, easily blending into the crowd. His expression is resolute as he earnestly listens before turning his eyes towards Varian.

His feet are nailed to the spot, unable to shirk away from the attention. He feels as if he is a fish out of water, but…he cannot move. His two so-called friends had an iron-clad grip on his arms. “Let’s hear what they have to say. Afterall, we wouldn’t want to disappointment Yong,” Hugo concedes in a mocking fashion.

If I must suffer, I won’t do it alone, his eyes seem to say.

“Varian, hey, Varian, guess what—!!” The pyromaniac looks towards his new friends before nodding in understanding once more. “They just told me something really cool! Apparently you’re famous!?”

Immediately, his reality comes crashing down. With Yong’s well-meaning statement, Varian stumbles back as if he were scathed by boiling water. He has done many things he wasn’t proud of over the course of his life. Varian…he had been hurt. He had hurt others, but, here, in this time and place, this family that he has found…it will all come crashing down. It hurts to look at Yong’s bright expression with the knowledge that it’ll soon morph to one of contempt or even pity. He lowers his head, bangs shrouding his downcast eyes.

“Hugo, didn’t Varian kidnap the Queen of Corona?”

His head immediately whips towards Nuru, eyes wide in bewilderment. What in the world—

“He sure did,” Hugo replies in a dispassionate tone. “What a hypocrite you are, goggles. You forbid me from stealing a single jewel, yet you get to commit attempted murder?”

They’re…they’re not disappointed in me?

“Way to hog all the fun for yourself,” Hugo lightly chides, glancing down at Varian in a condescending manner.

Varian’s eyes are glassy. He feels tears begin to prick at the corner of his eyes, but he hastily wipes at his face. There is so much to unpack here. Does he even deserve their understanding? Like his father and the king, he had been keeping secrets from his friends. They’d traversed across countless kingdoms and nearly died in the process. They had laughed, cried, shared good and bad moments, but for reasons unbeknownst to him, they still remain by his side.

With everything they have done by merely staying by his side, he—

Wait.

How did they find out!!?

Hugo adjusts his wire-rimmed glasses as he nonchalantly states, “Don’t shoot us that look, goggles. You’re acting like we kicked your raccoon.”

At this, Varian’s initial agitation at the infuriating man returns ten-fold.

“Why you—don’t bring Ruddiger into this!!” Varian seethes, standing up on the tips as he grabs Hugo by the goggles placed over his neck. His threat had come full-circle. Now, he is this close to murdering his fellow alchemist.

Nuru looks between her two older companions. Earlier, she had found a disconnected amusement in their bickering. She had always been alone growing up; it was hard to find someone close to her age to forge a genuine connection with. But here, with these two moronic geniuses and a kid who would most likely commit grand arson in a few years tops, she felt…included, complete…as if she were not a princess burdened with a heavy task and instead, a normal girl.

Still, it would be best to calm Varian before he gets a one-way ticket to prison. She cannot possibly understand how he thought they would never find out; the signs were obvious enough!

“You would not believe how popular books on recent Coronian news are,” Nuru articulates, thinking back to her initial surprise upon finding chapters upon chapters on Varian’s initial [clearly not one-sided] betrayal of their princess and eventual redemption. Under most circumstances she would have had him thrown out of her kingdom, but she had seen his kindness first-hand.

He had been abandoned when he was young; cast aside by those he had once admired. His problems were definitely more complicated than that, and its connections were deeply entrenched within the machinations of his kingdom and beyond, but—

If he had gone out of his way to right his wrongs, she could tell he was a good person at heart, and certainly one she would not mind to have right by her side when traversing the great unknown.

“You also talk in your sleep,” Yong mentions, eager to help out.

Varian’s jaw drops, mind reeling at their confessions. Various expressions flicker across his face, but his words…clearly do not do his thoughts justice.

“Oh, shit,” he says.

Hugo playfully goads the shorter alchemist, attempting to rile him into another argument. “I thought you said no cursing around Yong?”

The blue-eyed alchemist merely looks past the taller man and points. Curious, Hugo turns.

“Oh, shit,” Hugo hisses.

---

Underneath the sunny, brightly lit sky of Equis, Hugo…is confronted with his worst nightmare. No, even that would be too kind a word. Nothing can describe the complete loathing and disgust he feels at this very moment, not when he is face to face with the vilest person he has ever had the misfortune of encountering again. Even six years is not enough time away from this madman.

Clearly, time had not been kind to him. Not that it had ever been, if Hugo were to be honest.

Though…now he has a seal.

That’s new, Hugo offhandedly mutters, staring at the seal wearing a lavish necklace and golden crown while…still hideous, actually shoots him, unlike this man glaring daggers at him.

Nuru, however, her eyes…they are the brightest that they have ever been. She looks as if she had been struck by an arrow. Hugo looks at her, clearly disturbed at the princess’s…unusual behavior. “What. Is. That!?”

She is shaking Varian’s shoulders, eyes filled with stars as gazes at the seal in an awed reverence.

“A seal…?” Varian responds, somewhat worried by Nuru’s words, until…realization dawns on him. “Oh.”

“He’s…majestic,” she practically shouts, smile impossibly bright. “I’ve never seen anything so beautiful in my life.”

We’ve lost her, Hugo deadpans.

“What are you four miscreants doing in my kingdom?” the king of Equis, Trevor, demands as he narrows his eyes at the four friends. Quickly, he looks towards the crowd, only to have them quietly disperse, but—

Not without shooting another curious glance towards their pathetic excuse of a traveling group.

“I’m sorry about my friends, King Trevor,” Varian murmurs, casting a small glance towards Hugo and the others, as if beckoning them to remain calm and quiet. He looks at Nuru, but she has clearly lost herself to this newfound discovery.

“Clearly,” the king guffaws. “Wait, I know you from somewhere…”

His attention immediately snaps towards Varian, who is doing his best to hide behind Hugo. “Save me,” he says.

I’m sorry. You’re on your own, Varian. Hugo relents, glancing between the alchemist and king.

“You must be mistaken, I—”

“Yeah, you’re that alchemist from Corona,” King Trevor utters, voice laced in suspicion. “You’re not working for that fool, Frederic, are you? Trying to steal the secrets of my great kingdom—wanting to overthrow my rule and displace all of my people? Good, hard-working, law abiding people, might I add.”

Him? Willingly work for the king? He’d rather die.

Varian’s eyes crinkle in disgust. He may be on good terms with Rapunzel, but it doesn’t mean he wants anything to do with her father. “What, of course not!”

At his words, King Trevor marches past Hugo, red cape swishing as he levels his eyes with Varian. “You’re lying. Trevor Jr., come here—!!”

Hugo inaudibly chortles. He named his seal after himself?

“Arf,” the royal seal states, slowly moving its flippers as it waddles towards them. Its movement is so languid that anxiety begins to fester among their group until…eventually, it finally reaches the king.

“Go on,” he says, urging his pet seal towards Varian.

It turns its head towards Varian as it stares into the alchemist’s blue eyes. The alchemist cannot breathe as the seal regards him with a contemplative expression…at least, he thinks the seal is contemplating.

A moment passes, until, “Arf,” Trevor Jr. says once again.

He raises a flipper.

Yong’s hands are pressed to his face; smile impossibly wide as he awaits the royal seal’s verdict.

“Arf,” the seal barks. The flipper comes down and a resounding slap is heard.

Varian cannot believe this. Did he…

Did I just get bitch slapped by a seal!!?

“Arf arf,” Trevor Jr. huffs, head raised high as he turns away from Varian. The king’s eyes light up with a mirthless glee as he clears his throat.

“Trevor Jr. has spoken,” the king extrapolates. “He is displeased, and for this…you, Varitas, will be sentenced to death.”

“Actually, his name’s Varian,” Hugo corrects, helping Varian to his feet after he had been knocked over by the seal. He shoots a look towards Nuru, but her hands are pressed against her face, sporting the brightest grin he had ever seen on the princess.

He should be more sympathetic, but this is just too good to pass up. Sniggering, Hugo says, “Can’t believe a seal rejected you.”

Varian glares at the older alchemist, but…screw this. He is too done with this day. All he wanted was one peaceful day. Just one, but instead, here he was…public enemy number one again…and Trevor Jr.’s surprisingly hard slap certainly didn’t help.

He makes a move to retort, only for his words to be broken off by laughter.

“I think he likes me,” Yong cackles, petting the seal, eyes starry in wonder and amazement.

A whirlwind of thoughts goes off in his head; the weasel-like king seems genuinely conflicted, before casting a fond smile at the seal. He visibly sighs. “As much as it pains me to this say this, your execution…will be put off for now. Your little friend has gained the trust of Trevor Jr, so—”

No.

“He has gotten—�� Time stands to a halt as Varian stares at the king in horror.

Don’t say it, he and Hugo internally scream. Yong seems oblivious, but Nuru…she has lost herself to the cuteness of the seal.

“—The seal of approval.”

Varian cringes. “Just kill me now.”

The taller alchemist merely pats his back in understanding. He, too, is visibly shaken by…the king’s choice of words. “Only if you kill me first.”

King Trevor looks towards Yong as if he were an ant. “Feel blessed, child. I do not know why, but my Trevor Jr. has taken a liking to you.”

“Do not disappointment him,” he yells at the sky, both fists curled into balls at his sides. “He is my baby; the only person in this world that I hold near and dear to my heart. Whatever Trevor Jr. says is the law.”

“I’m Yong,” the alchemist exclaims an introduction. He looks up at the king in amazement. “Woah, are you two wearing matching clothes!? That’s. So. Cool!”

The king audibly deflates, at a loss for words.

“I like your beard; it’s fancy! Do you think I’ll get a fancy beard when I grow up?”

No, no, please don’t, Varian laments. He had gone that route once upon a time. Those fingerless gloves, fanged bandana, the goatee. Yong should not commit the same mistakes he had committed in his past.

“Oh, you do?” King Trevor says, twirling his mustache. “You never know, eh, but…probably. You look just like me in my youth. Just, nowhere near as tall. Or handsome.”

“He does?” Hugo deadpans.

“Of course he does! Can you not see the resemblance, boy?” the king barks. “We look exactly alike. Why, he’s practically the son I never wanted.”

“Does this mean I have two dads now? And a mom?” The pyromaniac tilts his head in confusion. “I don’t remember them getting a divorce.”

King Trevor pauses, contemplating Yong’s words for a moment. “I guess you do now.”

“Well, eventually, I will need a successor, and seeing that I have no children, why not?” He glances at his seal. “If Trevor Jr. approves of you, who am I to judge?”

Yong’s hands are clasped together, clearly ecstatic. The sight is so blinding that Varian almost has to shield his eyes. “Which one of my parents did you marry?”

“Eh, who cares,” King Trevor dismisses.

The pyromaniac presses his hands to his face, mouth forming a silent ‘o’. “Just wait until I tell my siblings!”

“Follow me, Yoshi,” the king says, as he walks away from the other three teens. “There’s so much you must learn about Equis if you want to rule over my kingdom with an iron fist.”

“Don’t you mean kind and just?” Yong says, eyes starry and impossibly bright.

“Oh, silly, naïve Yoro,” the king chides. “You have so much to learn.”

“Hold on, you can’t take Yong,” Varian exclaims in anger, placing himself between the Yong, the king, and Trevor Jr.

A moment passes…complete and utter silence. The king raises his hand, but—

“It’s fine, Varian!” Yong beams. “Guess this is my life now.”

“No, Yong, it’s not fine—”

“Trust me,” the shorter boy says. His expression darkens, but Varian must have been imagining it. “I need to make my father proud; I’m sure you understand.”

The alchemist makes a move to run after Yong and the king, but Trevor Jr. had gotten in the way—lethargically following after the unlikely duo, but not before casting one final look of complete loathing at Varian. He shirks back on himself, the memories from the previous grueling minutes replaying in his mind.

As he watches their retreating forms disappear into the distance, Varian makes a vow. “I’ll save you even if it’s the last thing I ever do.”

“May the moon have mercy on his soul,” Hugo snarks, slightly concerned…but not for Yong. Oh no, definitely not for him.

“I’ve met the moon,” Varian responds. “Personally, not her biggest fan.”

---

Meanwhile, Hugo is waving his hand over the dazed princess. “Goggles, I think she’s broken.”

“I’ve never seen anyone so perfect in my life,” Nuru squeals, hugging Varian as she recalls the wondrous sea creature. “We don’t have anything like him back in my kingdom.”

“Have…you seriously never seen a seal?” Varian asks, dumfounded.

“When you grow up in a kingdom constantly bombarded by meteors, you…don’t get much in the way of wildlife,” Nuru responds, an intense gaze in her eyes as she jumps up. Resolutely, she looks forward, determination laced in her voice. “I’m going to rescue Trevor Jr. from that wretched king.”

“You’ll start a war if you do that, Nuru.” Perhaps it had been the stressful day that he has had. Afterall, he was slapped by a seal, only to be nearly executed. Yong was whisked away by a king, and Nuru wants to steal a seal. Somehow, his only ally in this madness was the source of his many, many migraines. Varian leans in to Hugo, sighing as he closes his eyes in tiredness. “The king will be after our heads.”

A luminescent blush forms on his face as Varian leans against him. The alchemist had always been oblivious to his attempts at courting him. That, or downright sadistic in his dismissals. He’d rather be turned down right then and there rather than holding onto false hope. Even if he were to tell Varian directly that he liked him, the alchemist, bless his poor, oblivious heart, would merely smile and say, “I like you too, Hugo. You’re a good friend.”

But now, with Princess Nuru on the hunt for blood, and Yong somehow becoming royalty, he…can make his move. Finally, this will be his one and only chance. The perfect moment to ask the shorter alchemist out on a date.

“No fair,” Nuru says, sticking her tongue out at Varian.

Since when has she been such a brat, Varian wonders in sheer exhaustion and annoyance.

“Worry not, goggles,” Hugo laughs, glancing over at Nuru as she makes a hasty [and certainly not discrete] exit. “She’s at that age when there’s only one thing on her mind.”

“Homicide?” Varian mumbles, burying his face onto Hugo’s arm.

“No. Well, yes, but aren’t we all?” the bespectacled man replies sincerely. “She’s partaking in the age-old tradition of over-throwing the monarchy.”

“Oh.”

“Absolutely right you are, hairstripe,” Hugo responds, squinting as he gazes up at the sky. Quite some time had passed; he’s sure it’s well past lunch with the insanity that they had been pulled into. “So….”

“Sooooooo,” Varian says. “Want to grab a bite to eat?”

“Hell yes,” Hugo beams.

---

After breaking away from Varian and Hugo, Nuru had made off towards the castle. Certainly, it was not easy to miss—the sight of its gaudy walls was impossible to not see even from a distance. She was never one for physically taxing activities such as running across a large populated city, but with the powers of sheer determination and spite, she was ready as she would ever be.

With a seal to save, Nuru knew she could accomplish anything.

Sneaking into the castle was easy enough…surprisingly, or not. King Trevor did not have much in the way of military or police, but what he did have…were portraits of himself. A chill ran down her spine as she avoided the smarmy gaze of the portraits, who, while a fraction as annoying as the king…did not amount to much.

“I’ll save you, Trevor Jr.,” she promises, as she crosses past yet another seal statue.

Only the sounds of her nimble footsteps break the paper-thin stillness of the castle. For a place that should be brimming with life [especially as it is the daytime], she had not seen eye or flipper of any humans or seals. The lunar princess continues to walk in silence, but there it is. She detects movement at the corner of her eye.

It is soft, quiet, as if…someone else were sneaking around. Could this be an ally or a foe? Both outcomes were possible in a kingdom with a king like Trevor.

Nuru darts behind a seal statue, waiting quietly, anxious as to whom she will possibly see. She waits and waits…

Another moment passes, but the mystery person never arrives.

“Guess I was worried over nothing,” Nuru laughs, still feeling a bit uneasy and agitated over what could have been.

“Hiya, Nuru!!”

She certainly did not jump up in surprise at the sound of Yong’s voice. If anyone asks, she…saw a spider. Yes, that was it. That was definitely, most certainly the one and only reason.

Somehow, without her notice, he had snuck past her…and has discovered her hiding place behind the gaudy [begrudgingly cute] seal statue.

“What are you doing here?” they both simultaneously ask.

“You first,” they both say.

Yong beams up at her, hand pressed over his heart. “I want to make my father proud.”

“Oh,” Nuru responds, struggling between her emotions of rescuing Trevor Jr., destroying Equis, and not disappointing Yong…which would be an inexcusable in and of itself. She’s about to say more, but the shorter boy merely pulls at her sleeve.

“Are you planning to take Trevor Jr.?” Yong is not looking at her. Rather, his gaze is directed somewhere far ahead.

“What if I say I am?” the princess inquires, arms crossed in defiance. Her loyalty towards him is great, but the seal…it beckons to her with its smart, inquisitive ‘arf’. “What will you do then, Yong?”

He is silent. Nuru feels beads of sweat roll down her face in anticipation. Another moment passes, and then another, until…Yong beams up at her with the cheeriest expression she had yet ever seen on him or any other person. “Will it make my father proud if we release Trevor Jr. into the sea?”

She narrows her eyes at Yong, searching his face for any signs of betrayal or trickery. But…there is nothing. Only a hint of mischief in his smile. “Yes,” she concedes. “I suppose it will make him proud.”

At this, Yong cackles, hands raised to his sides as one would see on a mad scientist. Maybe…he has been spending too much time with Varian, Nuru notes, slightly disturbed and yet…impressed.

---

Honestly, Hugo does not know what to make of this situation. They had been off in-search of the perfect sandwich shop [he wanted to spend time with Varian, but he wasn’t lying. It was well past three and he was starving], but…he got neither a date nor a sandwich. Instead, he was granted the fortune of sneaking into a stupid king’s castle and no lunch. He at least had Varian by his side, but…he really wanted food. Even a cracker would do at this point.

He had originally thought the princess to be prissy and snuck-up like the nobles back home, but she had quickly gone above his expectations. Hugo could nearly cry at the proud feelings he felt as he saw her sneak into the castle.

Nuru was completely insane. She was feral in her attempts to rescue this seal through and through, and he could not get any prouder.

Truly, he was proud of her. He would very much like to shake her hand under any given circumstance and take her under his wing, but now…he is just irritated and very hungry. How long they had been wandering the corridors of this castle, he does not know. He eyes glance down towards Varian, and…yeah. The shorter alchemist definitely looks to be on edge, not that the [creepy] portraits the king had ‘decorated’ the castle with have done to help.

Hell, they…had stumbled upon one room in-which King Trevor had taped his face on top of a family portrait…which he had somehow stolen(?) from the king of Corona. It was very, very creepy. He and Varian are both convinced that he is stalking the poor queen, but…that is a disturbing problem for another day. Faces blank, they both sped walked out of that room, eyes downcast underneath the watchful gaze of the Queen Arianna and his royal travesty, King Trevor.

“Ugh, where do you think Nuru ran off to?” Hugo complains, cringing at yet another excessively ornate and gaudy portrait of the king.

Varian shoots him a quick glance. “If I knew, we wouldn’t be here.”

Their steps continue across the empty castle…really, the sight is rather eerie if Hugo were to be honest. Unfortunately, their luck had just about run out. Rounding a corner, there…are two guards sporting the official crest of Equis.

“Great, just our luck,” Varian sighs. The guards seem to have heard their voices. Quickly, the younger alchemist grabs his hand before shoving the both of them into a broom closet. It’s rather small, and uncomfortable, but…hopefully, the guards will not think to look here.

“This cannot possibly be your brilliant plan, goggles,” Hugo deadpans, trying no to stammer at how close they are.

Varian merely rolls his eyes at the taller alchemist. “Oh, just shut up and kiss me.”

Hugo locks eyes with Varian, mouth agape as the goggles he wears around his neck are grabbed until he is at eye-level with the alchemist. His mind is floundering. He cannot think, cannot speak, and Varian…his eyes had always been so blue. But, they almost seem to be glowing…or maybe it’s the theoretical sparks that he had always heard about literally igniting in his head. He had always prided himself on his persona—the suave playboy act that he had crafted for himself.

And yet, all it took was for a smart, stupid, but surprisingly kind alchemist to undo all of his hard work.

He makes a move to say something, but Varian merely glares past him.

“Do you mind?” the shorter alchemist drawls, voice as sharp and scathing as a freshly sharpened knife. Hugo inwardly protests at Varian’s withdrawal, but he is still reeling. Had…Varian finally realized his feelings for him? Were his affections finally reciprocated?

“Ahem,” a guard coughs into the crook of his arm, eyes averted from Varian’s icy gaze. “Sorry for interrupting you two. Uh, carry on……”

"Lousy teenagers,' Hugo hears them say.

Varian listens to their footsteps fade away before devolving into a fit of laughter. He wipes at his eyes, grinning brightly at Hugo as he helps him out of the broom closet. “I can’t believe that worked!”

“Yeah, I’ll say,” Hugo responds, still clearly dazed. Wait…worked? Was this a setup!?

As he listens to Varian drone on about ‘The Adventures of Flynn Rider’, his face must be undeniably crestfallen. All it takes is one look for the dark-haired alchemist to immediately shut up. Now silent, the duo continues to walk across the marble floors of the castle with only the gaudy decorations adorning its walls for company.

Varian wants to break the silence somehow, but there’s something off about Hugo. His demeanor had soured, but it’s not even just that. He seems more agreeable and not at all his usual sarcastic self. There are no taunts or joking retorts. The bespectacled man merely seems to be lost in his own thoughts. It should be a welcome change, but considering everything that they had gone through this day, he cannot help but worry. He raises his head and reaches for Hugo, only to jump up in surprise at the large cacophony of wild laughter and screams coming from down the hall.

Their senses are immediately filled with the bitter scent of smoke, and…yeah. Looks like they found Yong, and…judging by the sound of rushing water, they’d bet Nuru was there with him.

Without giving it a second thought, Varian grabs Hugo’s hand and races down the hallway with him in tow.

In other circumstances, Hugo would complain. But with Varian, he would follow him til’ the ends of the earth.

“REVOLUTION!! FREEDOM FOR ALL!” Nuru cackles as she races down the hall with not just Trevor Jr. following her, but another seal with a slightly smaller crown. “We will not stand for this tyranny any longer, isn’t that right, Yong!?”

“Stick it to the man!” Yong pumps his fists into the air. He, too, has decided to partake in this bout of teenage rebellion. The hallway is billowing gray smoke, and they can hear the angered screams of…what appears to be the king.

Varian stares at Trevor Jr.

The seal stares back.

---

Somehow, despite everything, they have finally made it out of the kingdom of Equis [relatively] unscathed. Varian is sure he may have lost a bit of his sanity, but…that would not be the first time it happened. And he is sure it most certainly will not be the last.

As he looks back towards Nuru and her new seal brethren, he is sure of it.

The kingdom of Equis may have sworn vengeance against them and their descendents for generations to come, but…Varian can live with that. But what he cannot possibly understand, however, is Yong’s toothy grin. It is unsettling with just how plain cheery this boy can be. If he could, he’d ignore it. But, Yong’s incessant wide-eyed gaze will not cease until he gets to say whatever it is in that strange, strange, terrifying mind of his.

“Yes, Yong, what is it?” Varian sighs for the umpteenth time that day.

Yong beams up at the alchemist. “Do you think my dad will finally be proud of me?”

Why, I don’t know, Yong, he murmurs to himself. He had set King Trevor’s castle on fire, lied, cheated, and stolen his royal seal… “Yeah, I guess.”

“Great,” Yong chirps. “Maybe now I’ll be the favorite child!”

At this, the three older teens stop in the tracks, staring mouths agape at the would-be arsonist.

“Dad hates King Trevor,” the short boy explains, grinning up at his friends. “Something about a fireworks deal gone wrong…”

His sentence falls into obscurity. But, these are words best left unsaid.

“Well, you’re my favorite,” Hugo quips, patting Yong on the head.

“Agreed,” Nuru replies. “You can do no wrong.”

Varian looks from Hugo to Nuru to Yong.

He shrugs.

Yeah, he can do no wrong.

#Tangled #Tangled the Series #Varian and the Seven Kingdoms #Varian #Varian Tangled #Hugo the Human #Nuru Tangled #Yong Tangled #Varigo #Fanfic

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drcrushers · 4 years

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name: in the midst of winter status: unfinished hades/persephone, angst/hurt/comfort i wrote this a while ago, and i don’t have immediate plans to finish it but thought y’all might like to read it! featuring hades in his favorite two moods: ‘i love my wife’ & ‘i will kill everyone in this room and then myself’.

Hadestown was a symphony, a loud and endless orchestra of assembly lines and pickaxes. It had lessened - slightly - and there were now voices that joined in, singing songs he couldn't recognize. The poet's doing. They were remembering, not just mindlessly working and toiling away. Trying, Hades had promised. So he was. And organizing the city into something more functional and less tyrannical had been the first step of it. The wall would come next, and so on. Dismantling everything pain-stakingly brick by single brick. Things would be better. Could be better. He just had to keep the constant mindset that his wife would come home. No more doubt - granted, his not-so-new union leader kept reminding him, as needed.

He'd hoped to have a decent amount of progress done on it to show Persephone when she returned; two less than harsh winters had gone by and the world was easing back into rhythm one season at a time.

He exchanged letters with his wife while she was up top, and they were learning how to work again. They'd started sharing a bed again, those soft touches and warm looks from their early years returning now that they were both trying. The world tried with them. Things were better. The symphony had changed.

But as Hades sat in his office pouring over ledgers, something about the symphony beyond the shutters was off. He couldn’t place how or why, but something set his teeth on edge and wormed beneath his skin like an itch unscratched.

A shrill whistle in the distance.

The train was running too fast.

Since the building of the thing it had run a steady pace along the tracks, ferrying souls from one life into the next. There was never any true rush; the dead weren't going anywhere, after all. The great machine chugged and hissed and belched clouds of steam, but it had always run it's average pace and the world had continued to spin as it always did. Even when things had been out of rhythm the train had been a constant - even if Hades had the tendencies to commandeer it to his use far too early at the end of the summer.

The whistle called again, the earth shook, and the train was still going too fast. A great concern that prompted Hades to leave his office and set out for the platform to see it's arrival, eager to see just what the hell was so damned important that the machine was straining under the speed at which it hurtled toward the underworld. Not that they had ever had an issue of derailment, it seemed pointless to strain the machine; if the engine broke, it meant repairs which meant labor, time, and money. He was going to have a few words with Charon when he stepped off the thing.

The transport pulled to a halt at the platform with a great hiss of steam and smoke and noise. Hades frowned, brows drawing together in the middle of his forehead. There was only one car attached to the train, which did not bode well. The only time Charon hauled one train was when Persephone went up top or came down below, and it was the middle of (an albeit very long) summer. Something wasn't right. Something heavy and sick settled into the pit of his belly like a great stone. Voices echoed in over the din of the underworld, three of them, singing harmonies he couldn't quite hear. Gritting his teeth, he shoved them out of his mind. Damned Fates.

The heavy rock in his stomach settled further when he saw who had stepped off the train onto the platform.

"Hermes.”

It wasn’t so much as the man himself as it was his appearance. In all the time Hades had known his nephew, Hermes had nary a hair out of place. He put great care into his appearance for numerous reasons (most of which Hades never cared to know). Usually all slick and silver and sporting his usual, leisurely smile. The Hermes standing before him now, however, was anything but. He was missing his suit jacket, which was alarming at best - but he could see stains at the cuffs that were a deep, purplish-red and a rather terrifyingly large spot of gold at his breast. His hands were clenched at his sides, white-knuckled and the usual rosy pallor to Hermes’ face was completely gone.

“I’ll explain on the train.” Hermes said quietly, his voice lacking it’s usual melody and tone. He felt his chest tighten, and he knew without a second of a doubt that whatever had brought Hermes barreling into his realm had to do with Persephone. He knew.

He only hoped that the golden ichor staining Hermes’ shirt did not belong to his wife.

There was work to be done, contracts to be signed, ledgers to check - but Hades put every notion of them out of his mind and climbed onto the train. Hermes followed and he was barely in the door before the great engine lurched and was off again, cranking up to full speed before either of them could find proper footing. A rock had settled deep in his gut, heavy and weighted and almost painful.

“I knew you’d have a fit if I sent a note.” Now that he could see him closer, Hades could see the dark circles under his eyes, the set to his brow and muscle jumping in his jaw. He looked frazzled, to say the least, which did not settle the uneasy storm brewing in Hades’ gut.

“Our girl - “ Hermes pressed his lips tightly together, moving toward the bar cart that had once been Persephone’s favorite. “Ain’t good; wouldn’t have come here otherwise.”

“Tell me what happened.” Hades could feel his voice rather than hear it; his blood already seemed to pound in his ears, roaring louder than the engine in the train. His chest tightened again, watching with a furrowed brow as Hermes poured himself a drink and gestured to the bottle, trying to offer him one as well. He jerked his head. “Tell me what happened to my wife.”

“You gotta promise to keep a level head -”

“I’m going to level your head off your shoulders in a damned minute.” Hades warned lowly, his voice more gravel than anything. His chest rumbled when he spoke, a dangerous sign of impending anger and rage and anything else he could drag up from the depths. While Hades knew his marriage was strained still, Persephone was his world. Without hesitation he’d throw the whole lot of his underworld into the pits of Tartarus if it meant keeping her. He was not an overly emotional man - until it came to her. Yes, he was a disaster at showing affection as of late. Yes, they hadn’t exactly been eye to eye. Things were tense, struggling, but that melody - it had returned at the hands of a poet with a voice of the gods themselves.

A promise to try again would mean nothing if Persephone was lost to him.

Dead gods did not frequent the underworld.

If she was dead, truly, he would feel it. Wouldn’t it? They’d been married far too long, he’d grown accustomed to her presence, her essence in his life. If it suddenly disappeared - even from the world above - he knows he’d feel it. Right?

Damn, he felt sick and Hermes hadn’t even said anything - which was alarming enough.

“She’s in rough shape. She put up one hell of a fight; sure you can guess this blood ain’t exactly mine. The idiots thought she’d come with ‘em willingly and they were more than wrong. She ain’t been conscious long enough to get a full story, but we’ve got the ones responsible. She tried to make me promise not to come and get ya, uncle.”

“Someone attacked her?”

“Not at first, but it turned into that. Tried to kidnap her. Or see if she’d go off with ‘em. Two mortal men, morons that they are. She resisted, o’ course. They made to steal her and drugged her drink to do it. Tried to carry her off and tie her up - reckon they didn’t do much of a job doin’ it cause our girl wasn’t havin’ it. Knives drawn to try and force her to do - well, what mortal men usually do, and that only pissed her off more. She was out of it, but - well, I expect it wasn’t too pretty, given how those two turned out lookin’.” Hermes drained his glass, and poured another. Hades was fighting the sickening slime that felt as if it’d settled in his gut. Persephone, attacked. By mortals. Assaulted. Worse.

And he hadn’t been there to protect her. Keep her safe, as he’d promised the first day they met in the garden. He’s broken a lot of those promises and paid the price for it - but keeping her safe had been one of the last few he’d kept. Now it was shattered. By two mortals.

He didn’t want to comment on Hermes’ remark about her not wanting him to find out. To be there. His heart did an uncomfortable flip in his chest. Why wouldn’t she want him there? Persephone was his life. Everything, wrapped in the beauty of the sun and stars themselves. Why would he not come to her side if she was injured? Not to mention unleash the fires of Tartarus itself in punishment to the two responsible for it? Anger slithered through the guilt and boiled beneath his skin hotly. No one disrespected his Queen. Even if they’d been on uneven ground, he and Persephone were trying again. That had been the promise. Had she reconsidered by not wanting him at her side? Would she turn him away? Gods - the more he dwelled on it, the more the anger and guilt fought for control. Hermes had gone silent to sip at his drink and study Hades, the gaze he could feel on him even after he turned away from his nephew.

Couldn’t the damn train go any faster?

He felt the shift between realms, the invisible barrier that separated the underworld from the mortal realm. It made the hair on his arm stand on end, rippling up to the nape of his neck. Uncomfortably. He didn’t like being in the mortal realm for work or for other purposes - he’d made that clear in his time one way or the other. Most of all to his wife, which was a thought that didn’t sit well with him either. He couldn’t be assed to go up and visit her, even when she asked. Too much work, he’d cited. Can’t get away.

Wasn’t much of a realm if it couldn’t run itself for a day without him, she’d replied. Even if they’d been trying again after the saga of the poet and the songbird, it didn’t mean things were perfect. He wanted to build a better home for her to come back to in the winter. To surprise her - which is why he’d been so set on working. It was harder to disassemble a city and a wall than it was to build it. But what use was the damn place if Persephone couldn’t come home at all? Attacked. His wife had been attacked.

In all their years together, he’d never had such a feeling. Persephone had never been in danger during their marriage. How could a god be in danger with their power, their wisdom?

Hades had faced the idea of losing his wife through divorce, but at least she’d be alive. Well. Perhaps happy, unshackled from him. He’d never faced the idea of her death. It was impossible. She couldn’t die. She was the goddess of life, vibrant and beautiful and thriving in any environment.

Except, she could die. Anything living could. Wither like a flower under the worst frosts.

He leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees, his head in his hands. Hermes didn’t speak, leaving him to his terrible, twisting thoughts edged on by the harmonizing voices in his ear. With the sickness in his gut came a great and awful anger, rolling like some of his brother’s tsunamis through his boiling blood. Heat rose to his skin, fingers curling into his palms against his face and digging in until he couldn’t feel the sting of his own nails anymore. The white-hot rage burned brighter than any sun ever thought of. The fires of Tartarus itself resided in his chest, and would not be quelled.

Death would be too good for the mortals who had dared to touch his wife. Persephone was his by law and by right and by every-other-fucking-rule in the universe. Not some tiger to be taught and tamed. No, they would face fates worse than death by the time he got his hands on them.

The voices in his ear only seemed to encourage the sudden fury and ire.

They had hurt his wife. By the time he finished with the mortals, they would only wish Hades had hurt them in return. No one could or would take Persephone from him not now and not again --

And Hades stopped, thoughts stuttering for a moment.

Persephone did not belong to him. She was fierce all her own, not a bird to be caged. He had learned that - albeit begrudgingly. Capable of defending herself and any under her wing. And it was true, she was not a trophy to be displayed or a tiger to be caught and tamed, most especially by him. That, in essence, had been his downfall. Thinking Persephone belonged to him and belonged to the realm.

She chose to love him. To give up her life, at first. Would she be happy if Demeter had simply let go? Let her be happy as a permanent resident of the underworld, the dread queen for eternity? Hades wanted her to be - more than anything. Persephone brought life to the underworld in a natural way he could not. And when he tried, it looked artificial and wrong and unnatural; her voice sings out loudest above the trio of old women, harsh and critical of the world he thought he’d build for her. Coax her down from her home in the sky to roost below. Make her happy.

That’s all he wanted in the end. Persephone, happy. With him. That he would be enough for her.

How stupid he’d been in thinking that bullshit. He was enough, she’d told him so. Promised it. And he’d doubted her. Not trusted her.

Hades thought he might grovel at her feet when he saw her next, but it only dragged his mind back to the present situation at hand. The guilt returned, the fury swallowing him whole. The inside of the train was cast in a dark, shaded red through his vision.

“Uncle, you’re gonna burn a hole in that seat and cuss me when you realise it.” Hermes’ voice drew him into some fraction of reality. Hades looked down; he’d grabbed a hold of the bench cushion beneath him and the fabric was smoking vaguely beneath his palms. He released his hold with a low growl, standing swiftly in favor of pacing the aisle down the middle of the train car. Contemplating how he could so easily rip the mortal realm apart just because he could, in retribution for the sins of two morons. Raze the land and strip it all back until the earth was raw and cracked and bleeding rivers of magma.

Sometimes, Hades wondered if he was so different from his father after all.

Of course he wouldn’t destroy Gaia, Hades was better than that. So he liked to think. Fire and brimstone and all that be damned. He would if Persephone asked him to, though. He knew he’d do just about anything she asked. Try to. Assuming what she wanted had been the mistake, too. What if he’d done something so foolish? If he were his father, it wouldn’t take a second thought to level everything and rebuild it to his liking because he thought Persephone would like it.

The train finally began to slow and Hades felt the knot in his gut tighten again. He had wanted to see her sooner rather than later, but not like this. Anything but like this.

It was strange, the platform being devoid of life.

The weather was strange; a dense fog had settled near the ground, but he could tell by the way it crunched beneath his feet that a snap frost had settled in, crisping the grass and flora in a way he was only used to seeing done when Demeter threw her usual seasonal tantrum. The sky itself was overcast, dark and stormy as if it might open up and pour on them at any moment. And yet, beneath it all, the world was still steadfastly green and alive. The oxymoron wasn’t lost on him as he made quick work of the path between the platform and where he knew Demeter’s place to be - for his wife would be there, without a doubt. Hermes said nothing of his quick steps, just followed half a step behind with those lips pressed into a thin line.

Trees were in bloom, but not for long; flowers almost frozen in time among the frost and fog. The world was in a deep unbalance and it made his pace quicken.

Surely if Persephone had - if she had died, he’d know. Surely.

As Demeter’s house came into view through the hazy air, he could only imagine the state of the garden behind the place. He didn’t want to consider it, or the implications. Would Persephone have to stay up top longer to recover? To make sure the mortals didn’t starve? Would she demand it? Hades wasn’t sure he’d be able to give it to her - frankly he wasn’t keen on letting her out of his sight as soon as he set his sights on her again. To know she was certainly safe at all times; she would understand.

(Except, deep down, he knew she absolutely wouldn’t).

The porch steps didn’t even have time to creak beneath his weight as he took them two at a time. Ignoring the rust color smear of blood on the railing. The door opened before he could touch it and for the first time in a while, Hades was met with the face of his sister.

Time had changed Demeter much as it had him. She hadn’t gone full white just yet, but she’d soon be a beautiful, silvery gray. The eyes of their mother, her lips set into a thin line, and wrinkles in her brow that weren’t just an expression, but set permanently there from repeated motion. She was a head shorter than him, close to his wife’s height. He recalled her looking slightly more put together at their last face-to-face interaction compared to the dressing robe she had belted at her waist now, feet bare beneath.

“You can’t -”

“You tell me I can’t be here and we’ll have a problem.” He rumbled, cutting across her before she could finish. A mistake, the way her eyes darkened.

“You can’t see her yet you damned fool. Let me get a word in edge-wise next time and you can save that glare for someone who deserves it.” Demeter replied sharply, but stepped aside to grant him and Hermes entrance. She didn’t look pleased to do it, frankly, and Hades couldn’t blame her - though he couldn’t tell if the expression on her face was due to his appearance, or the attack on her daughter. Both, perhaps. Hades didn’t care one way or the other. His intentions were clear, and he made for the stairs the second his eyes briefly adjusted to the dim light of the interior.

“What the hell did I just say?” Demeter hissed, grabbing his sleeve sharply to stop him. “She’s in enough pain without you addin’ to it right now. She’s restin’, and doesn’t need your stubborn fool of a self bargin’ in.”

“That’s my wife.”

“And that’s my daughter. Don’t pull the relative card, ‘cause I guarantee I can match you tit for tat, brother.” Demeter said, voice sharp. An edge to it he hadn’t heard or noticed before. There was a darkness under her eyes that told him she hadn’t rested in some time. “Bad enough you been sendin’ her up here winter after winter late and her nearly in tears. I don’t know what the hell y’all are doin’ down there to hurt her --.”

“I promised to wait for her.” Hades rumbled, cutting his sister off - again, a mistake, but she didn’t immediately try and rebute. “And I did. And I will. But like hell I’m standin’ down here while she’s up there hurt. I’m gonna see her, and then I’m gonna come down here and we’re gonna talk about the ones responsible.” The last was said far more darkly - a promise, not a threat. Hades shot a look to Hermes, who had stood by silently. “And if you’re that worried ‘bout our marriage, I’m sure the old gossip here can fill ya in if he ain’t already ‘bout what’s changed. Not that it’s your business anyway.”

Demeter made a noise that wasn’t quite a word, but had lessened her grip enough on Hades’ sleeve for him to jerk free.

“I’m the one who told Hermes to come get you and you’re makin’ me regret it real bad, Hades.” Demeter gathered herself enough to speak again, voice low. Not unlike Persephone’s when she was furious with him. That did give him pause, however - to know Demeter had sent for him. Not exactly something she was known for.

“I appreciate the thought.” He ground out. He’d deal with her likely wrath later, but it wasn’t something high on his priority list even if she’d done the decent thing and made Hermes come for him. For now, Hades had one goal in mind and that was seeing his wife, ensuring she was safe and would recover. He’d been facing his sister’s wrath for centuries, and it would be no different to him now. “If she’s asleep, I won’t wake her. I just need to see her.”

I need to see she’s alive and safe with my own two eyes.

Demeter didn’t stop him this time when Hades ascended the stairs. They creaked beneath his steps too, not unlike the porch ones. The entire house was worn and old and well lived in, a far cry opposite of his home below. Before Persephone, the place had been desolate and cold and just to his tastes. After their marriage she’d attempted to breathe life into the place, make it more lived in - but it was difficult to keep houseplants alive and remember to dust when Hades had so much work on his shoulders. Realms did not run themselves. Eventually she’d stopped trying, around the time the drinking had started. He’d eventually had to hire on a few shades as household staff just to keep the place tidy so he didn’t have to hear Persephone loudly complaining when she returned home.

He shoved those thoughts from his mind.

Past. In the past. All of it had to stay in the past. They were moving forward. Winter promises to be made true in the spring. Hardest thing he’d ever fucking done, waiting for that six month mark to get there and he was still up top early anyway. That, and trying to figure out how to rip everything he’d built in the past decades. Hadestown couldn’t run the way it was, that much had been made clear. But he’d also learned a lesson - as much as he wanted to surprise his wife with something as big as factories or mines being closed down, he knew it would be far wiser to wait for her return. To build the realm into something together, a place to be something than everlasting hell for any and all.

Future thoughts. For a future when Persephone would return home, perfectly alive and well.

The door to her room was cracked, first on the left. He remembered which one because there was a great tree outside her window she used to climb down in the middle of the night to sneak away and meet him for a midnight tryst those first summers apart. For a moment, Hades felt nervous. Anxious. Afraid. For no real reason, in truth, except that he feared what might be on the other side.

He shoved that down too, and carefully slipped into the room.

Things had not changed in Persephone’s room. So he thought; he’d never actually been inside. Like the rest of the house it was well lived in, with a worn, wooden wardrobe instead of a closet where the drawers were a bit crooked and likely didn’t open easy anymore. A mirror hung above another dresser was littered with scrap of makeup, some small bits of jewelry that he only vaguely recognized, and several small plants that were so lush they were nearly spilling out of their pots. He could imagine the sun streaming in through the windows but with the strange haze outside that day, beyond the glass was simply gray. The paint on the window ledges was peeling a bit, the white chips similar but not quite the same as the wall color. Eclectic, but cozy.

In the midst of it all beneath a patterned quilt on the bed, lay his wife.

As Demeter had said, she was sleeping. Fitfully, given the small furrow to her brow. Her hair was plastered across the pillow and he could see soft flecks of gold within the ringlets - ichor, transferred from whatever wounds hiding beneath that quilt. Her face had lost some color to it, which made the purplish bruise at her temple stand out even more. Her hands were on top of the quilt and he could see the bandages that covered a good portion of her hands, wrists, and arms - knife wounds, if he had to guess without peeling back the bandages. Her lip was busted too, angry and red. The more Hades took in of her, the more fury that built into his gut like a bonfire roaring to reach the sky.

He rested a hand against the bedpost, gripping it tightly to keep himself grounded. There was something entirely unsettling about seeing her like this, to know he had failed in protecting her. Sure she’d been hurt before - small things, nothing serious except the times they’d lost their children before they’d been more than a flicker of life. Even then she had not looked nearly so . . . so . . - Hades felt his chest tighten fiercely. Painfully. Not quite in a panic, but not quite relief.

Gods.

Mindful of his steps, Hades carefully moved to the side of the bed. Persephone didn’t stir. Not that he wanted her to - she needed rest. But he couldn’t help himself to reach out and brush the back of his fingers across her cheek, desperate to feel her warmth for himself. She looked too much like a corpse without the color to her face and the rise and fall of her chest hidden by the quilt. His heart leapt into his throat when her head turned a fraction, her lids twitching before he was graced with the sight of those dark honeyed eyes. Galaxies resides in those eyes, endless and infinite and beautiful. He’d told her as much before, but not often enough.

“You’re early.” She whispers as her eyes seemed to adjust to take in his appearance. There was a strange cloud to her voice, a slight haze to her expression that reminded him of the fog outside. Then he remembered what Hermes had said - her drink had been drugged. “I missed ya.” He murmured lowly. She blinked slowly a few times and shifted slightly; he didn’t miss the way she grimaced when she tried to grab the blanket with her wrapped hands. Hades silently moved to help her, adjusting her cover in what he hoped was the way she wanted. All his words seemed to have died in his throat, heavy and sticky and unsaid.

“You didn’t have to come.” She broke the quiet silence again. “I told ‘em -.”

“I know you told ‘em, and I’m here anyway.” Hades shuffled for a moment, uncertain. Like a damned fool. He’d come all this way and he felt like a nuisance more than anything. She hadn’t wanted to see him. Hadn’t wanted him to know. Hadn’t -

“I’m glad you did.”

Hades swallowed thickly, and nodded once - business like. Then he thought better of it and sat down on the very edge of the bed. Not quite crowding her space, but close enough he could reach out and gentle cradle one of her bandaged hands in his own. He was careful, mindful that it felt like he was holding a piece of glass. Persephone never was a fragile soul, but something about the bandages made him hesitant. Worried he’d hurt her. He’d done enough of that, as of late.

“I didn’t want you to worry.” Persephone continued, cheek pressed against her pillow to look at him. Her fingers twitched in his own, and he brought them to rest in his lap. “Knew I’d find out sooner or later. Would rather be here. Make sure you’re okay.” Hades replied, brushing his thumb gentle over the roughened edges of the bandages at her hand. As a goddess it wouldn’t take long for her to heal, but seeing the injuries - well, it set his teeth on edge. Even if her wounds would only sustain a few hours, it was enough to remind him how very easily he could lose her. Something that did not sit well with him, not at all. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”

“Wasn’t asleep.” She supplied with a sigh heavier than most. “Just tired.”

“Then you oughta be restin’.”

“Suppose you’ve come to take me home to do that.”

Hades, who had been studying her hand in his lap with quiet contentment, lifted his head to meet her gaze. It was a bit clearer now, not crowded by a haze of sleep and whatever drug. His lips pressed into a thin line. He could easily say yes, and scoop her up to carry her back down below without another word. Who could stop him? Demeter, Hermes? Persephone? None of them. He’d feel better having her down below to keep an eye on, to ensure there wouldn’t be lingering effects or a second attempt by some other moron mortals who stepped out of line - shades couldn’t hurt Persephone the way their mortal counterparts could.

“No.” He said simply. “I made my promise. I’ll keep it. I just . . . I needed to see ya, after Hermes told me. I wanted . . . wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Her brows furrowed for a moment as if she didn’t understand.

“You came to visit?”

“Reckon so.” He murmured. “Should’ve done it sooner. Didn’t know if you wanted me to or not though. Wish I had - could’ve been here to protect you.”

“Don’t you start that self-blamin’ bull, Hades.” Persephone warned in a tone stronger than what he thought her currently capable of. “Ain’t your fault.”

“I promised -”

“And you kept your promise.” She huffed. “You can’t expect me not to get scraped up. I defended myself. You ain’t gotta hover over me and protect me at any given second.”

“No, but I want to. You’re . . . you’re my wife. I’m meant to keep you safe. Happy. Reckon I’ve fucked that up enough that I wanted to keep what promises I could.”

Persephone’s lips twitched.

“You really ain’t gonna take me back now?”

“I promised to wait. I will. Long . . . long as you come home when you do.”

Persephone’s expression softened.

“Don’t I always?” He felt her fingers tighten briefly in his own, a small flex that meant the world. He gently lifted her bandaged fingers to his lips to press several small kisses to them, lips lingering against her skin.

“I thought I’d lost you.” He whispered into the silence that had settled again, adjusting into a more comfortable position on the edge of the bed. Persephone shifted too, offering more room that he dare not yet take. Some part of him still assumed she’d come to any sort of sense and kick him out - but that wasn’t what they were doing. They were trying. Supposed to be.

“Can’t get rid of me that easy, husband.” Persephone gave the slightest flicker of a smile that made the rock in his chest melt. Seeing that smile meant she was okay, in his mind. She’d be just fine. Of course if he lingered for a while to make sure of it - well, that was neither here nor there.

“Good.”

“Now you gonna get in this bed with me?”

Hades blinked. Persephone shuffled around, wincing, but continued until she had left a decent amount of space open on the bed (which, was impressive given the size of the bed). She looked expectant, and it took Hades a moment to understand her intent.

“I - d’you really want that?”

“Do it before I change my mind. I’ve had a bad damn day.”

Hades hesitated, but didn’t disobey. Shifting awkwardly, he moved to lay in the space she had offered. It was a tighter squeeze, but Persephone didn’t seem bothered. Instead, she rolled onto her side and pressed herself against his chest before he could even adjust. It had been some time since they’d shared a bed, much less been close as this. Yet, it seemed there had been no time at all that had passed in that time. Hades allowed himself the freedom of wrapping an arm gingerly around his wife - and she did not protest.

“I missed you.” She murmured, voice muffled against his chest. “You’re still on my shitlist, but I’ve missed you.”

Hades chuckled faintly, and pressed a kiss to her hair.

“Wouldn’t expect anythin’ less, lover.”

“Stay, then? I know you’re gonna go and have your meltdown at the two idiots but - stay for a while, here?”

#hadestown #unfinished fic #hades #persephone

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fairymadnessyeah · 4 years

Text

Secrets in the Dark

Shigadabi week day 1

Ao3 Link

Summary: After a job well done, the party starts their journey home. But the path is tricky and the past sneaky when memories start to show their ugly face.

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Memories / Fantasy / Bittersweet

"We'll rest here for the night," Tomura said as he watched the rest of his party drag their feet through the forest floor.

As Bounty-Hunters, their jobs were usually easy. They did what people didn't want to do. Nobody would search for a murderer or criminal and risk their life when you could hire them and let them do it for you. Nobody would go into a dungeon when they would go for the right amount of money. It didn't always go the way the client wanted, but that was their fault for trusting Bounty-Hunters.

This job was one of those examples. They had been hired to retrieve a dagger from a nearby hunted cave. The legend said it could reveal every secret someone had and, judging by the unhappy married life the lord who hired them had, he probably wanted to check if his wife had a lover. Too bad they wanted the dagger more. The quest took them two days, one to retrieve the weapon and another one to forge it.

It wouldn't be the first time they did something like this. Twice, an excellent alchemist and blacksmith, was the best at making doubles of things. The copies didn't last though, so once they were paid and started on their journey back home, the lord figured out their scheme. He sent a squadron after them, who chased them non-stop. When night fell, they had finally lost them but were too tired to continue.

"Wonderful idea, Tomura," Compress exclaims as he takes out a marble of his pocket and throws it to the ground. The marble explodes and reveals a giant tent, which they all enter.

"Ugh, I'm beat," Spinner moans and starts cracking his bones behind his scaley skin. "How far are we from Furesurbs?" he asks and collapses into the pile of cushions he slept on.

Furesurbs was the cannibal city of the continent. Only the bravest and most skilful of heroes had been able to go through it without ending dead. Or that was what the common people knew. Foresurbs was actually a lawless city. Thieves, killers, Bounty-Hunters, they all lived in peace with plenty full jobs to earn money. The hero who ever stepped foot inside was dead the moment he breathed.

"I'll track a course for tomorrow, for now just rest," he tells the others and takes out his map of the region. As a warlord, he was well-versed on many subjects. He was almost positive he was the only one who had had an education in some way. But then again, they didn't know much about Dabi or Compress.

Their group of Bounty-Hunters, The Vanguard Action, was not the usual group. If anything, their partnership shouldn't work. Why would it? A Warlord apprentice, an Alchemist with a personality disorder, a druid with a craving for blood, a known thief and con-man, a survivor from the Draco kingdom and ex-slave, a witch trapped in a man's body and a cursed runaway arsonist. Their teamwork should have been a disaster, a failure.

Yet, somehow, after half a year of travelling together, they had become such a tight group that Tomura was sure his Sensei would be disappointed of his attachment. But in an unlikely moment, the young warlock didn't care. His Sensei's approval and pride should be his drive, his greatest achievement. But his party -his friends- they meant the world to him, and he would make sure that when his time to rise came, they would get everything they wanted.

And bizarrely, he knew the feeling was mutual. From the hundreds of times they had had his back, to the quiet nights they spent comforting each other; Tomura knew his party would be there for him when it mattered. Magne, Toga and Twice repeatedly told him so, Compress, Spinner and Dabi showed it with their actions. They all said he had brought them together, that he had saved them in some way or another. That they were a family and they wouldn't let anybody come between them and their happiness.

Thought this journey would put that trust to the test.

"Stop playing with that, Crazy, it's not a toy!" Tomura was distracted from his routing by the disturbance. Toga and Twice were testing out the new dagger, passing it between them and asking questions, to which the dagger would burn if the one holding it lied. Magne was cooking while Compress and Spinner were sleeping, but were distracted by the mess.

Dabi, the one who scolded the two fools playing with the ancient and powerful tool, was up from his own nap and trying to get the dagger from the girl. "No! Wait for your turn! I'm using it now!" Toga threw her tantrum and tried to keep the artefact away from the older man.

"Yeah, don't be a party pooper, Dabi! You trying to hide something, cursed boy!? " Twice said as he helped Toga.

The three entered a tug war, with Dabi trying to get the dagger and Toga and Twice trying to keep it to continue their game. The rest of the party soon lost interest in the usual shenanigans. It was a daily occurrence that the three would argue like siblings, and they went back to what they were doing previously. That changed when Dabi screamed. The dagger clattered against the floor as the arsonist held his bleeding arm close and cursed out loud in pain. They tried to get close to him and aid him with his injury, but he stepped away and told them he was alright before stomping out of the tent. He was probably going to his horse, Licen.

"Good job, you morons," Spinner tells them once Dabi is not in the tent. "Now he is going to be even more cranky," the lizard-looking man complains.

"Don't worry, once Dabi gets some sleep and food, he'll be as happy as he can be," Magne tells Spinner and stirs the stew she is preparing. "But you two better apologize and stop playing with that thing. Dabi is right, it's not a toy," she turns to the two blondes and scolds them.

"Yes, Big Sis Mag... Why don't you make me, Old Hag!?" Twice says.

Toga, however, doesn't. She is staring at the dagger with rapt attention and holding the blade in her hand. "Hey Tomu, what does Blue blood mean?" the youngest member of their group asks him out of nowhere.

"Usually it means the person is part of a noble family," he answers her. Toga always asked him stuff out of nowhere. She had lived away from cities and society for most of her life, and she didn't understand most of the new world that surrounded her. "Why are you asking?"

"That's the blood that came out of Dabi," she tells him and shows him the blade of the dagger. It wasn't a lot, but the small amount of liquid the blade had was blue-purplish colour.

"That's impossible," Spinner comments about the implication of the blood. "Dabi hates royals and nobles more than any of us," he argues. And he was right. Even if rich families were the largest source of income for the lawless, there was no Hunter or Thief alive who didn't hate the higher society. Dabi did so with a passion and never stayed quiet about it. He could look past a lord or count that were in the rich inner circle of the kingdomes, but royals were a pest in his eyes. Tomura had noticed the small chain he had with stolen Royal rings the hunter had collected over the years. To think that somebody like that came from a noble family was ridiculous. Unthinkable even.

"Can't it be that since he is cursed, his blood is blue now?" Compress cuts in.

"No, cursed blood is purple," he tells them. "Maybe he is a bastard from a noble family, or the descendant from a dead royal house. But it is none of our business, now is it?" he asks the rest of the tent, with a clear hint of dropping the matter.

It works though, and they all go back to their tasks. Magne gets help with dinner by Twice, and Toga cleans the dagger and places it in a scabbard that doesn't fit it. When they get to Furesurbs, they can have one made. The tent is plagued with silence until Magne announces it's dinner time. Dabi still hasn't come back by that time. Tomura is not worried. If Dabi wants to be a gloom and be alone, that's his problem. He doesn't need the fire user. Even if he is a great source of heat in cold nights.

When they finish dinner and Dabi still hasn't appeared, Tomura has had enough. While the others build a fire to keep warm, he takes his hooded cape and goes looking for him. Their camp is hidden between the plants of the forest they were in. Licen was still here, but the mare also had the heart of an apple at its feet. Dabi spoiled his horse like no other, always giving her an apple even if it meant hunger for him. Licen in exchange was the most loyal horse there could be, even if she was a stubborn mare that only let a few ride on her. So if she was still here, Dabi couldn't have gone far.

Tomura found him a few feet away from the camp, near a stream. Dabi was a sight to behold. He had patches of healthy skin but most of his body was covered in deep purple scales. His curse was slowly turning him into a monster. When he lost control, the scales would start to take over his body, covering more skin, and he would become more animalistic. It scared the crap out of them the first time it happened.

They had come to a crossroad with another group. The party of teenagers because, yes, they were a bunch of teenagers along with an alchemist knight and they had unfortunately been after the same target. They were both looking for the golden scabbard of All Might's famous sword. They wanted it for the money, but the kids needed it to unlock something, they were in a quest with pointless ideals of heroism. They had ended up clashing, and Dabi lost control, though he wasn't the only one. He was in battle against The half cursed prince, Todoroki Shouto, and as the fight grew heated, both men turned into monsters. Both groups had to separate them by force before they killed one another. Dabi didn't speak for two days after that, and they didn't get the scabbard.

However, curse and all, Tomura couldn't help but find the hunter mesmerizing. It was like he was made to distract him. His strong jaw, his deep hoarse voice, his dry humour and his eyes. Oh Divus, his eyes. Tomura could drown in them. Deep, bright blue orbs that he could stare at and get lost in at any time. Even now, in a dark moonless night, he could still see them. It infuriated him.

"Did you come here to stare, creep?" Dabi asks him, turning to see him.

"You missed dinner," he tells him and sees the other roll his eyes at him. "Let me look at your wound," he orders him.

"It's fine, I cauterized with my magic," he says but still holds his hand to him.

The wound is not deep, but it's large, it starts at the bottom of his finger and ends in the middle of his forearm, cutting through the purple scales. With a simple chant, his hand lights up in a red hue, and he starts healing the hunter. He can feel Dabi's eyes on him. Those blue gems piercing his being and somehow looking into his soul. He didn't know how, but Dabi was one of the people who were able to read him like an open book.

"Stop that," he tells him as he heals him.

"Stop what?"

"You know what..."

His relationship with Dabi was weird. Sometimes he wanted to kill him. The hunter loved to rile him up. He was lazy and disrespectful. He would attract trouble wherever he went. He could count the times they had been persecuted out of an area because of the messes him, Spinner and Twice had gotten in. However, he trusted him with his life.

If something happened, he knew Dabi would be there. He was his right-hand man. He could leave the Vanguard Action with him without worrying things would collapse the moment he left. Dabi and him on some late nights, when neither of them could sleep, would be there for each other. Tomura had told the arsonist secrets he didn't even share with Kurogiri. And Dabi had told him things none of the other league members knew. They had bonded in some sort of way.

And sometimes, even when the raven was just a few centimetres apart from him, he wanted to be closer. Tomura was not afraid to say he finds the hunter attractive, scales and all. He was as hot as a fireplace and as a warlock, whose dark powers sucked all the warmth from inside him, he had many times cosied up to the fire-user to get warmed up. All of the party had. There were times he would see couples on the road and imagine it's him and Dabi. There was also the dream accident.

A few months ago Magne convinced him in trying her new sleeping potion. They had just come from a good-paying job, so using the free time they had, he accepted. The concoction was supposed to trap him in a dream for a few hours and rest his mind and body. Tomura tried it, following Magne's instruction and soon enough fell asleep. When he opened his eyes, he could tell he was not awake. The first indication was the changing background. The second hint was Dabi entering the room and kissing him without a hesitation. In that two hour nap, Tomura was caressed, worshipped and loved by Dabi. But even if it was a dream, it felt so real. When he woke up, he couldn't look at the hunter without remembering his dream. He avoided Dabi for an entire day. He still felt awkward about it.

"There, done," he tells him and quickly takes a step back from the raven. "Now come to the tent, we have a long journey tomorrow, and your food is getting cold," he turns, giving his back to his party-member, but stops when he hears the other speak.

"You're not going to say anything? About the blood?" he sounds... nervous, which is very offputting, since this is Dabi who's talking. He always talks in a monotone, leaving people guessing what he meant by his tone.

"It's none of my business," he responds. "We all have our secrets, Dabi. If you ever want to tell me, I'll listen," he heads back to the tent and hears Dabi silently walking behind him.

The rest of the party is already in their bedrolls when they arrive. They aren't asleep, just laying comfortably around the small fire. Dabi sits in between Toga and Compress and starts eating his bowl of stew. Shigaraki goes back to his maps and tracing a road, idle chatter fill the tent as they all get ready for bed, but Tomura interrupts all of that.

"We have a minor inconvenience," he announces, and they all turn their attention towards him. "If we take the easy road, it might take us a while to get to Furesurbs. But we can cut that time to three days if we don't avoid some of the more dangerous areas,"

"What areas?" Dabi asks.

"For the first day of the journey, we have options. We are surrounded by three of the most magic-hated cities, Servusurbs, Magumless and Torquecastra. If we want to avoid them, we need to go around them, but that is going to add three days to our travels. Though we could go through the Aurum Mountains, using the mines. Although I doubt we'll find a way past it without help, and that is going to cost us a lot of money," he explains.

The rest of the group is pensive for a moment. Torquecastra is a fortress, getting in they might be able to achieve, but getting out is going to be tricky. Servusurbs would be easier to get in and out, thanks to their slave business, but Spinner was not going to set foot in that place again. That left only Magumless, but the place was very strict with their magic laws. All those who possessed magical abilities had to be collared and sorted by colour, and they could only enter if they had an escort.

"I know a way we can get through Magumless," Compress says. "There are underground tunnels we can go through, used for smuggling magic-ingredients in. If Dabi doesn't show off his flames and Magne hides her potions, we would have enough escorts to get to them," he explains and looks at the ones who would have to get chained along with him, Toga and Shigaraki. They all nod, agreeing to the plan.

"What about the second day?" Magne asks.

"We have two options if we don't want to spend another three days travelling, Libidine forest or the Erat fields," Tomura explains and watches everyone groan.

Libidine forest was a death trap. The place was plagued with Succubuses and Incubusses and it was theorized to be sacred ground for them. If they caught you, you were either sacrificed or used as breeding stock. They would have to be on high alert if they went there, but that wouldn't mean they would make it out.

The Erat fields were the same. A spell was cast in the form of a mist on the place that created illusions to confuse travellers. Going alone was a sure death, but since they were a group, they might just make it. They would just have to keep each other grounded.

"What about the Nix mountain range? It would be a day more, but better than any of the other options," Dabi says.

"We are not prepared to spend two days in a frozen hell," he explains. "And it's wyvern season," Dabi grunts at his logic. "Erat is our safest option," they all nod, agreeing with him.

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The next day of their journey went well, luckily.

They arrived in pairs to the city, and once they were registered and inside, they would meet in an arranged location. Magne and Compress went first, then Toga and Twice and lastly, Tomura with Dabi and Spinner. The city of Magumless had a metal system to identified magic. Steel collars meant useful harmless magic, bronze was useful harmful magic, gold was useless harmless magic, silver was useless harmful magic, and black iron was dangerous magic. Tomura was collared with one of the laters.

They almost arrest him when he entered the city after the collaring. But Dabi, whose clothes covered his scales, stopped them, lying about a life debt he owed him. The guards luckily left them alone after that. Spinner, who was acting as his stead for the day, might have a lot to do with that. Nobody would come in between a man with a warlock and a giant lizard monster at his beck and call. Once they reunited, the trip went on smoothly. They weren't able to take out the chains until they reached the other end of the city, but below the city, they didn't have to be on constant alert.

By nightfall, they were all out of the town and camping by the side of the road. It took them another day to get to the Erat fields. They decided to wait for the next day to cross it and camped a few meters away from it. The next morning, they all woke up already dreading the journey before them.

"So what exactly are the fields going to do?" Spinner asks in his big lizard form asks as he carries Tomura, Twice and Magne. "I know it's supposed to be illusions, but what kind? Monsters? Or something like that?"

"The stories vary," Compress answers by his side, riding a magic-made horse Tomura conjured, Toga behind him. "Some say you see your past, your happiest moments, and you desire to go back keeps you in here. Others say you become delirious. You turn into a future of yourself that may never happen and get trapped inside the fantasy," As theatrical Mister Compress was, he was right. The stories were told by those who were able to survive the fields, and the only consistent theme in their tales was that they would never go back to it.

They soon got their answer, though. Magne suddenly let out a scream, scaring all of them and making some of them unsheath their swords. Luckily it was a false alarm. Magne just panicked because out of nowhere it looked as if she had been burned to death. When Shigaraki had met her, she was in Furesurbs running away from her family of witches. They didn't accept her as herself and gave her an ultimatum, be normal or die. She ran away and joined them.

One by one, they all changed. Twice suddenly looked like a teacher -(he was once offered to teach at the university of Libriratum, but he refused)-, Toga turned more druid-like (she had been raised by druids, but got kicked out when they didn't approve of her magic), chains and whip welts appeared on Spinner (he had been sold and bought as a slave until Tomura saved him), and Compress looked like he had been hanged (he had escaped from prison before they were able to do it). Tomura didn't change much. Instead of looking like a warlock in his black clothing and magical jewellery, he looked like a farmboy. His shirt turned rough and scratchy and his hair, which was a platinum and identified him as a Master of the Dark Arts, changed into its original black colour. Toga also complained about his smell, but she was the only one who noticed. Dabi was the last one to change. And boy, were they not ready...

The first hint they had that he changed was the metallic clangs and Twice's gasp. When they turned to look at Dabi, the person they knew was gone. Their cursed leather-wearing hunter with a hot temper and a cold stare was nowhere in sight. Instead of him, the dead prince of the Flame Kingdom rode beside them in his stead.

Golden armour on his legs, a white silk cape with golden trims flailing on his back, a blue regal vest with King Enji's emblem, his skin clear out of any scale, red hair sweeping with the wind and adorned with a golden crown encrusted with gems. Even his horse had a golden armour and a brand new leather seat. His crossbow was gone, as well as everything else and only his sword remained by his side. The only reason they knew it was Dabi was because of his eyes. The same blue as they ever been.

None of them dares to utter a word. They just stared at their friend as they walked. It was so weird to see the man so adorned and wearing so much expensive stuff. Especially since this was Dabi. The guy who had spent an entire job without a shirt because he wanted to cut expenses to afford some more food for his horse. He didn't cover up until Tomura bought him a new shirt.

"Stop. Staring." said guy says after a while, his eyes never leaving the path ahead. His request fell on deaf ears though. He sighs frustrated at his peers gaze. "You can ask one question each. After that we don't speak of this. Ever. Again." he grunts.

"Aren't you supposed to be dead? A GHOST!?" Twice exclaims with his usual tact.

"I never died, I just faked it and ran away," Dabi tells them.

"Why? You were living in a castle, with servants, freshwater and food and everything you could ask for, why give that up?" Spinner ask.

"I don't need much to be happy," Dabi shrugs. "'Sides, being king wasn't worth the price,"

"Do you have one of those lovely royal rings?" Compress suddenly asks, staring at his new attire with interest.

"I do. You take it, and I will cut off your fingers and feed it to Toga," Dabi warns, and it's enough to ward off the old thief.

"My turn! My turn!" Toga exclaims happily. "Let's see... Oh, were you ever betrothed?" she smiles and Tomura feels his blood heating up.

"Twice," Dabi answer with a grimace. "First to a princess who died before I could ever see her and then to the daughter of my fathers' army general as a prize after their last campaign," Tomura doesn't like this question.

"Don't you miss your family?" Magne asks softly.

"Sometimes, but they seem to be alright without me..." he answers surely remembering the last time he was his brother.

'His brother... the half cursed prince...' Tomura remembers, and his gears start turning in his head. It couldn't be a coincidence that they both were cursed. The two princes of the same kingdom, of the same family, supposed to inherit the same land? It didn't sound natural. Curses were like a string they had a start and an end, but they were also personal. Only a person could be cursed. Objects or other things could be blessed or damned, but curses were the result of a human. But who could have done that?

He had lived in the Flame kingdom for a while, and even if he didn't, it was no secret how much the people loved the heirs of the Royal family. The four siblings were praised for their selflessness, kindness and compassion. Princess Fuyumi taught how to read outside the palace to whoever passed by. Prince Natsuo was a diplomat who had given the people of their kingdom lower taxes. Prince Shouto was a brave warrior and a gentle soul. And Prince Touya, Dabi, he had had the closest relationship with the people. He was known as the Free Prince before his death. Always running from his duties and spending time with the peasants outside the castle. The kingdom had mourned his death for months. They had expected a great ruler from him, even greater than... the current... king...

"Was the king the one who cursed you?" Tomura asks, hoping to be wrong.

"Yes, he did,"

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They all turned back to normal once they were out of the field. They took a moment to rest after it, the experience draining them all. None of them had a past worth going back to, so being reminded of everything they had run away from or escaped had hit them quite strongly.

They didn't stay there for long though, and soon enough they were at Furesurbs. Toga, Twice and Magne decided to go to Kurogiri's bar to unwind when they arrived while the rest of them went to their quarters. Being Sensei's apprentice, Tomura had been able to afford a big enough place for all of his party. They were near the bar where they got their jobs, and they were able to guard each other's back while in there. Their line of work gave them more enemies than friends, and they were stronger united than separated. Not to mention it was cheaper than any other inn or place they could rent.

Dabi was laying in his bed, unable to fall asleep when he heard a small knocking in his door. Believing it was one of his drunk partners, he ignored it. They would get tired soon enough and leave. He wasn't feeling up to being with anybody at the moment. But when the knocking came again, he figured whoever was doing it wouldn't stop until he opened the door. He gets up with a groan and opens the door, ready to send whoever it was away, but his words die in his mouth when he sees who it is. On his door is his leader, Shigaraki Tomura, with a crazed look in his eyes and a scratched up neck.

The guy doesn't even wait for him to let him in he just pushes him to the side and gets in. He is only wearing a loose pair of black pants and a black shirt with a simple pair of boots. His silver hair is messed up, and he is mumbling in a low voice.

"Tell me more about your curse," he demands once Dabi closes the door.

"...What?"

"Your curse, how does it work!?" he asks again.

"Why the sudden curiosity?" Tomura had never inquired about his curse. Ever. So what could have changed?

"How does it work, Dabi? Don't make this more difficult!" he goes off again, the scratching getting worse.

"No," Dabi crosses his arms. "Why do you want to know? Do you think once I'm cured you can use me to take over the kingdom? You want to use me for your world domination!?"

"JUST TELL ME, DAMNIT!" the warlock screams.

"TELL ME WHY!?"

"I DON'T WANT YOU TO DIE!" Tomura finally snaps at him, leaving Dabi speechless. "Curses usually end in death! You can't avoid it! You either finish it, or it finishes you! Now tell me everything you know about it so I can try to stop it!"

Dabi is quiet for a few minutes as Tomura hyperventilates after his rant. "... you can't," Dabi breathes. He had given up a long time ago. "The curse is the missing half of my brothers. One day we will turn into monsters and kill each other for the throne. Once my brother is crowned king, the curse should be broken-"

"It won't work," Tomura interrupts him. "Curses are conditional, if your brother wants to be king, he needs to fight you," the warlock tells him. Dabi feels as if he was shot through the heart when he says it. He falls to his bed defeated and stares at nothing.

"It won't happen," he hears Tomura mumble under his breath as he walks to the door. "You might have given up on it, but I won't. I will find you a cure, and I'm going to remove that curse from you," he tells him and flees the room, leaving an ex-prince behind with a heart that won't stop beating, as if trying to jump out of his chest.

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