#they were each other’s stepping stones to get to their true happily ever after s

[shieldwinter]

Also bi!Steve surpremacy because he loved Peggy but Bucky is his true love

#please I’m bi and he’s my comfort character and it may be a bit of projecting but I also really loved his and Peggy’s story before Marvel #ruined it with endgame. don’t invalidate who they were to each other #they were each other’s stepping stones to get to their true happily ever after s #Peggy didn’t deserve to be reduced to just a love interest when she moved on from Steve in Agent Carter #and Steve loved her #but not like he loves Bucky. you can love more than one person #stucky #bucky barnes #steve rogers #stevebucky #wintershield

[sundaysundaes]

Into the Forest of Fireflies’ Light

Lee Taeyong X Reader, feat. Haechan | Fluff, Best Friends to Lovers, Angst | Supernatural AU | 18k

Summary: You can only remember summer. Of the love you could never receive. Of the lips you could never truly taste. Of the warmth you could never take. And of a boy with smiles so soft, being consumed by the fireflies’ lights (strongly based on a beautiful Japanese animated movie called Hotarubi no Mori e)

Dear Taeyong, 

I can only remember summer

Of the taste of the dry weather on our tongues

Of the songs the cicadas chanted behind our backs

Of the sunlight that bit through our skins

Of the summer dresses and cat masks we once had

I remember that twig of an oak tree between our hands 

Separating you and me, life and death

That warm goodbye from your usually quiet lips

The way you said, “Until we meet next summer.”

And how I always truly, desperately, believed in it

You are the beautiful reality in my sleep

The blissful dream in my wake

I will see you again next summer

I miss you

***

Dear my love,

I can only love summer

Of faith that bloomed between us

Of loving smiles that shone when I glanced away 

Of the longing distance we put between us

And the fireflies’ light that will soon consume me

I will wait for our late exchange of secret words

And next time, I will take your warm goodbye from your lips

“Until we meet on the next life, Taeyong,” you said

Yes, that’s true

Until we meet on the next life, my dear

Because of you, I have truly lived

Our summer will last for eternity

I love you

“Make sure you listen to your uncle, okay?” Your mother says in her motherly way just like how she usually does. “Do you have your handkerchief? Your ticket? A nice pair of shoes. Don’t zone out and miss your stop. You’re always clumsy like that.”

You straighten up with one bag slinging around your shoulder and another one hanging around your wrist. With a casual pair of flip-flops, a white sleeveless summer dress decorated with broderie details, and your lips curving upwards in a farewell smile, you respond, “Jeez, Mom. I’ve been going there every year. I’ll be fine. I’m taking off now, okay?”

Although your mother seems unsatisfied with your words, she lets her daughter kiss her cheek and waves her hand goodbye. As you take the first step out of your house, the sun quickly showers you with light that is hot enough to leave sunburn on your skin. The trip to the nearest bus stop will be nothing but exhausting, you’re sure of it. But it’s okay. It’s summer anyway. You always love summer.

The bus comes only a few minutes later after you arrived at the stop and dropped your heavy bags next to your feet. You take a seat on the right side of the bus, near the window. There are only three passengers on the vehicle aside from you—a man with a sweaty neck on the front row, and a mother cooling her half-sleepy child with her paper fan on the back seat. You smile a little to yourself. Everything seems normal, just like always.

You lay your head on the window, randomly staring at the trees and leaves getting blown by the wind, as the bus starts moving. Taking a deep breath, you close your eyes, letting your memories come close and your thoughts fly back to him.

The first time you met Taeyong was when you were six.

***

Thirteen years ago, you were nothing but a lively little kid with short-cropped hair and choppy bangs. During a hot summer day, you got lost in the forest of the Mountain God, which was said to be where spirits lived. After running around searching for an exit, you became so tired; you couldn’t move a muscle. You ended up sitting under the shadows of the swaying tree branches and felt a little ticklish from the green grass that spread widely underneath your feet. You hugged your knees to your chest, gave your best to act strong but failing pathetically with every try. When you started crying from fear and loneliness, he appeared before you.

“Hey, Shorty!” A male’s voice resonating through the air made you gasp sharply. “Why are you crying?”

There was a boy, standing just a few meters away, with half of his body hidden behind a tree. His posture seemed a bit rigid as if he was nervous or shy for suddenly reaching out to you. The boy was noticeably taller, with a voice that sounded deeper than any boy you’d ever met before. But judging by the way he dressed—at his denim trousers that ended a few inches above his ankles, combined with a casual short-sleeved button-down white shirt and a red tee underneath it, he was probably still around eighteen.

What caught your attention was the cat mask he wore on his face. It wasn’t unusual—you had seen your friends wearing it a few times during the summer festival. The white mask had ears, whiskers, and big round black eyes that were continuously staring back at you with no emotion. The mask covered his entire face, but you could still see his hair. His hairstyle was normal—a little bit messy from the wind, with his strands ended a few centimeters above his neckline, but the color was odd. It was silvery white, almost like an old man’s.

“It’s…” You gaped, not caring about any of that fact at the moment. “It’s a person! I’m saved!” You claimed happily, standing on your feet with so much speed, it almost gave you a head rush. With your hands spreading in front of you, you frantically ran towards the boy with joyful tears in your eyes. “I’M FINALLY SAVEEEEEED!”

But with a quick reaction, the boy moved away before you could embrace him and you ended up landing face-first on the ground, with a handful of grass finding their way to stick themselves into your mouth.

“S-sorry,” the boy said apologetically but he didn’t move any closer to help you up. “You’re a human child, right? If a human touches me, I’ll disappear.”

Previously annoyed, you looked up at him with knitted eyebrows. “If a human?” You blinked twice in confusion. Your eyelashes were still a bit wet from the tears that were no longer falling. “You’re not human?”

A momentary silence came by before he formed an answer. “I’m…” He hesitated. “Something that lives in this forest.”

“Huh?” You unconsciously tilted your head before realization hit you like a train and you clapped your hands in glee. “Then, you’re one of the Spirits?” Another silence, and this time, the boy decided not to reply, so you tried again. “But… What do you mean by ‘disappear’?”

He stayed mute, his body standing still as if time just stopped. You couldn’t see the expression he had behind the mask so you wouldn’t know how he reacted. You could only see the flat emotion the cat mask was giving you as he continuously stared at you. If you weren’t a playful little girl with a naturally born cheery attitude, you would’ve found it creepy.

But instead, you found it rather amusing.

You reached out your little hand toward him, climbing back to your feet and when he moved away from your touch, you began to try harder. Every time the boy tried to escape, you laughed a bit louder, tried a bit better, and before you knew it, you ended up chasing him between the trees.

You ran after him, reaching out for him, closer, closer, closer—

Thunk!

You groaned in pain, covering your bruised forehead with both palms as you kneeled on the ground. You couldn’t believe he just hit you on the head with a twig!

“Y-you’re really not human after all…” You whimpered, rubbing your ache away. “No human would hit a child like that!”

When you began to sob a little from the pain, the boy sighed. “To disappear means to be obliterated,” he explained, slowly taking his eyes off you to face the sky instead, “That’s the spell that the Mountain God placed upon me. If I get touched by a human, then that’s the end.”

You had stopped crying by the time his sentences sank into your head. His previous action was really necessary, then, if he was truly in that condition. If you had kept on chasing him and he’d failed to avoid you, he would’ve disappeared. Now that you thought of it, you realized you nearly killed him with your antics.

“I’m…” Still sitting on the ground, you folded your knees underneath you and bowed down, overwhelmed with guilt. “I’m sorry…”

With an unreadable expression, the boy approached you and gently offered the wooden twig. “Here, Shorty,” he said, “Grab the other end.” When you gazed up at him, he was facing away. His posture seemed to give out a vibe that he was a bit embarrassed but you weren’t exactly sure of it. “You’re lost, aren’t you? I'll lead you out of the forest.”

You were surprised at first, both from his kindness and his features, because from that position, you could see the side of his face. His jawlines were sharp and prominent. The skin of his cheek was just as pale as the rest of his body. He was so white; it was almost ghastly.

You beamed at him. “You’re so nice! Thank you!” Moving by reflex, you began to run toward his arms again. The boy was screaming from being caught off guard, and you almost got him before—

Thunk!

You were stopped by another hard hit on the head.

“I’ve told you not to—” The boy was breathing hard with his body leaning forward and his hands clamped around his knees to steady his weight. “Don’t touch me.”

You were practically rolling on the grass to mute the aching you felt on your temple. “S-sorry, I wasn’t thinking.”

The two of you walked next to each other with thirty centimeters long wooden twig between your hands. With every stride he took, you had to match it by doubling your steps. Your height difference was striking. It almost looked like you two were siblings—with him being the high school student older brother and you being his elementary school sister.

You were walking down some stone steps, tightening your grip around the twig to maintain your balance. There was a temple inside the forest, and that was the only way out. You usually followed that path to come back home but that day, you were having too much fun wandering around on your own that you forgot the way to find those tracks again.

There were abandoned Buddhist statues on the side of the stairs and the steps had some cracks on them even though they were made of stone. You could tell that the place would be too scary to walk alone when the night fell and the cicadas stopped singing. But right now, you couldn’t care much about it.

“It’s just like going on a date!” You chirped happily, jumping like the little girl that you were as you climbed down the steps. You hadn’t known how a date would feel like—after all, you were only six back then—but you had imagined it happening with a boy in your school, and this one fit your imagination well.

The boy had his free hand stuck inside his pocket. With a nonchalant voice, he replied, “Not a very romantic one, though.” And when you weren’t looking, he stole secret glances at you. Of course, with the mask still on, there wouldn’t be much of a difference, even if you had been looking.

“You aren’t afraid, are you?” he asked, and although you were surprised, you grinned at him.

“Of what?”

The boy seemed a bit hesitant before he answered, “Nevermind.”

You walked a few more steps until you finally arrived at the end of the stairs. The sun in the background was already setting, splashing orange tint to the previously blue sky. “If you go straight, you’ll hit the mountain path,” the boy said, standing under the simple wooden gate with no doors that indicated the entrance to the forest. And with his usual flat tone, he said, “Goodbye.”

“Are you always going to be here?” You questioned. “If I come back here, can we meet again?”

“This is the forest where the Mountain God and the Spirits live,” he answered matter of factly. “Set foot within and you’ll lose your way and be lost forever.” The wind was blowing, caressing his silvery-white hair and that made you stare in awe, memorizing how out of this world he seemed and wondering what kind of expression he displayed behind that mask. “You shouldn’t be here,” he finished. “That’s what the villagers say, right?”

That was true. It was, and you understood that, and yet, you just couldn’t wave this meeting away as if it never happened. Facing him a little bit better, you warmly smiled and introduced yourself. “I’d love to be your friend. Can you tell me your name?”

He didn’t say a word, just continued to stand in front of you with his cat mask staring back at your face. You waited… and waited… and even a second felt so long.

Those expressionless cat’s eyes kept staring back at you, making you feel somewhat woozy and embarrassed. It was as if you just asked something too personal. Perhaps he didn’t want you to know. Perhaps he didn’t want you to be attached to him. Perhaps he just wanted you to go away.

“U-umm…” Panicking, you took a step back, putting more distance between you. “Anyway, I’ll be back tomorrow with a thank-you present!” Just that, and I won’t come back if my presence bothers you so much. “B-bye!” You shouted, turning around on your heels and proceed to run from the tension that felt like cutting your skin open.

But then—

“It’s Taeyong.”

You stopped abruptly and turned around, but the boy was no longer in sight. His voice vanished without a trace, drowned by the wind.

But you heard it loud enough to put a permanent smile on your face that night.

Taeyong.

When you were walking by the fields that seemed more familiar, you were humming to yourself. It was until you heard your name being called that you stopped singing.

Your uncle was walking toward you with tattered breathing. Perhaps, he had been running around the village searching for you all day. “Uncle!” You greeted, grinning innocently as you ran toward his arms. “Uncle, I—”

“You stupid girl!” Your uncle landed a knock on your head before you could hug him and it was the third time you felt like your head was about to explode that day. “If you go into the forest on your own and get hurt, what are you going to do?!”

You finally began to realize that possibility and ended up crying as you ran to embrace him again. Your uncle let your tiny arms wind themselves around his waist and though he was still upset, he felt more relieved than anything. He patted your back and soon after you calmed down, you began to walk with your hands holding one another.

“Hey, Uncle.”

“Hmm?”

“Is it true that there are spirits living in that forest?”

“The Mountain God’s forest, huh? Who knows. That’s what they say,” he answered in an unusually serious demeanor. But when he started again, he had a tiny smile painted upon his lips. “When I was little, I wanted to meet the spirits so my friends and I often went into the forest. In the end, I never met any but I had the feeling I’d occasionally spot something from the corner of my eye. On summer nights, you could hear the sounds of the river coming from the forest. And now that I think about it, Hyori said she and her friends went and had fun at a summer festival in the forest. But there’s no way the villagers would’ve held a festival in the forest. So then, whose festival could it have been? It started this crazy story that they must’ve snuck into a festival for the spirits.”

The old man with a scruffy beard was laughing, his eyes glistening with the reminiscence of his childhood. “Man, that takes me back!” he exclaimed. “We were so stupid back when we were kids.” Then he laughed some more. You were only busy carving his story into your mind.

That night, you had trouble sleeping. The last words that Taeyong spoke to you were echoing in your head.

This is the forest where the Mountain God and the Spirits live. Set foot within and you’ll lose your way and be lost forever.

You understood that and yet…

***

“You came back,” Taeyong said, sitting at the end of the stone stairs where you parted ways the day before. He was wearing the same clothes, with the same cat mask on his face. “I didn’t think you’d really come back.”

You blinked your eyes, mouth slightly parted. The question ‘Was he waiting for me?’ ran through your mind. “You…”

The boy tilted his head, “Huh?”

“YOU WAITED FOR MEEEEE!” You screamed in excitement, running towards him in reflex with your arms reaching forward. The boy yelped in surprised then—

Thunk!

“You just don’t learn, do you?” Taeyong sighed, holding the same wooden twig he held on the previous day. Though the pain on the top of your head was throbbing, you chuckled, feeling your heart burst in warmth and joy.

“I was so happy, I just…” you giggled again. “Sorry.”

The boy leaped forward, approaching the spot where you were squatting down due to the pain. Taeyong pocketed both of his hands and threw his face to the side. “It’s a bit hot here. Shall we go somewhere cooler?”

“Huh?”

“Don’t worry,” he assured, climbing up the stairs even though he just hopped down from there. Perhaps he wanted to walk beside you? “I’ll walk you back again.”

Your lips broke into the biggest grin you had ever made in your six years of living. “Okay!”

You went inside the forest, walking next to one another with nothing but air between you. You wondered if Taeyong had decided to trust you now, or if he was just being polite. You offered him the vanilla ice cream you’d brought from your uncle’s shop and the two of you ate your ices in silence. But the thing was, the silence was never awkward. You knew by then that Taeyong wasn’t much of a talker, and you were already too happy for being able to spend your day not with just a new friend, but also your first Spirit friend. It felt surreal and exciting at the same time.

The deeper you went inside the forest, you found out that the trees were bigger, almost taking all of the blazing sunlight to themselves and left none for you and Taeyong to bask on. The wind felt soft on your skin, the scent of grass and blooming flowers filled the air.

Your smile never receded from view when you walked behind Taeyong. It was only when you noticed that something had been following you that you began to frown. “Hmm?” You were sure something was following you, but Taeyong was walking like everything was normal.

As you were about to dismiss the thought, a shadow crept along the ground, a layer of dark mist clouded your vision, then a voice, low but thunderous, spoke. “Taeyong.”

You froze, your fingers almost gripping at the end of Taeyong’s shirt. The shadow turned colossal, darker, and somehow, somehow, you could see it grinning eerily at you.

“Is that a human child?” the shadow asked in a reverberating voice. You could practically feel its eyes on your skin. “Can I eat her?”

You hastily moved to the side with your tiny steps, hiding behind Taeyong’s legs. The boy noticed your fear and he quickly set out a hand to let his opponent know that you were off-limit. “No,” he said, “She’s my friend.”

“Is that so?” The shadow’s voice reminded you of the sound of the dark grey clouds rumbling before the storm came to wash the earth. “Human child, please don’t touch Taeyong’s skin. If you do, I’ll eat you.”

You were so scared; you started to shiver all over. By the way you were clutching to his shirt, Taeyong realized that you were, indeed, only a vulnerable little girl, barely knew anything about the world and the secrets it held. “Hey—” But then he abruptly sneezed.

The Shadow suddenly shrieked in horror then there was a blast of smoke, making you jolt on your feet, tiny hairs standing up at your nape. When you managed to look between the mist with narrowed eyes, that shadowy figure turned into a cute little golden fox with nine furry tails and a pair of sparkling ruby eyes.

“Oh!” It was so tiny, you could probably hold it with both hands. “Is that a Spirit Fox?”

The Fox’s fur was standing up, perhaps it was startled by Taeyong’s sudden sneeze. It wasn’t even that loud—to be honest, Taeyong’s sneeze was much quieter than how your uncle used to do. To be frightened only because of that…

“Yeah, he’s another one of the Spirits. He transforms to scare people away, but he’s all bark and no bite,” Taeyong said, approaching the little golden fox that was hiding behind a tree with its body cowering to the ground. “Isn’t that right?” The boy bent down, grabbing the fox with both hands, and lifted it off the ground. “Haechannie?”

Puff!

There was another kind of explosion that clouded the forest with ash grey mist, and you coughed a couple of times before you gazed back to the Fox. It was no longer a fox—it was a person.

Taeyong was holding a boy’s waist with both hands just like how he did to the animal before and your jaw grew slack at the sight. The golden fox just turned into a human—a male, nonetheless—with golden hair and the same pair of ruby eyes that matched the blush that crept through his cheeks. His skin, you noticed, had a darker complexion but it complimented his looks so much as if he was kissed by the sun, smooth skin glistening under the light. He also had a pair of dog-like ears and a nice golden Foxtail that resembled his previous form. And although the color of his hair and eyes were striking, it didn’t startle you as much as the fact that the boy was naked.

You screamed, immediately turning around from the sight of the two boys facing each other with Taeyong’s hands still holding Haechan’s bare waist as if it was the most normal thing to do. You had your hands covering your face, feeling embarrassed since it was the first time you witnessed a naked boy’s body.

“It’s because you startled me,” Haechan whined, arms flailing as he blushed a bit deeper. “Now let go of me, Hyung.”

Taeyong sighed, taking his hands off the boy that appeared to be the same age as him—just a couple of years younger, maybe. He didn’t seem to be bothered by Haechan’s bare skin at all, though he looked tired of his antics. “Don’t bother her, okay? She’s a friend.” Taeyong pointed his head toward you squatting down on the ground with your back turned, face sinking into your palms. You could hear Taeyong telling him your name but Haechan snorted in response.

“I don’t care what her name is!” Haechan shouted, looking away from the other boy. “Why are you getting all chummy with her even though you just met!” The way he whined so childishly was the complete opposite of the way he talked in his monstrous shadow form earlier. “And she’s a human! What would you do if she touches you by accident?” With a prominent pout, Haechan added under his breath, “You’re such an idiot.”

With the cat mask staring flatly at him, Taeyong replied, “I can hear you, you know.”

“Ah, damn it!” Haechan groaned, giving the other boy a shove on his shoulder. “I won’t cry if you disappear, all right?! It will all be your fault! Taeyongie, you big idiot!” He quickly turned back into his animal form, nipped Taeyong’s finger with his pointy teeth, and climbed the tree with his little paws.

Taeyong yelped a little from the bite but more because of the shock instead of pain. “Haechannie!” he called, but the fox spirit never looked back, jumping from one branch to another until he disappeared behind the trees. The cat-masked boy huffed and walked back towards you. “He’s gone now,” Taeyong said, bending down a little to match your height. “I’m sorry if he scared you.”

You slowly sneaked a glance behind you, and it was true. Haechan was nowhere to be seen. It was then that you could finally grasp what just happened.

“It was so…” You clenched your tiny fists before you jumped and punched the air. “SO AWESOME! That was the first time I’ve seen a real spirit! Not quite like I imagined, and I wasn’t prepared to see a naked boy like that but wow, they really do exist!” And as you continued jumping happily on your feet, shouting, “Amazing! Amazing! So amazing!” Taeyong muttered, “So what did you think I was?” And without waiting for you to calm down, he walked again with his hands tucked neatly inside his pockets.

You eventually followed him with your usual lively grin. “Are you a no-face or something? Why are you wearing that mask?”

“No particular reason,” Taeyong answered, making you frown. Perhaps he hadn’t trusted you that much? “Never mind me. Tell me about yourself.”

Your eyes twinkled; your grin turned mischievous. “Are you curious?”

A pause, then, “That’s why I waited for you.”

You couldn’t suppress your laughter. He was waiting for you, after all.

So you told him about yourself, from the most important things to the littlest nonsenses that went through your mind. Taeyong listened to your words in silence, no comment, no reaction, not even giving the slightest hum. And since he was always wearing that cat mask on his face, there was no way of telling how he felt when he listened to your stories. Did he even pay any attention to you? Was he bored? Was it entertaining for him? Taeyong was a mystery you didn’t know how to solve.

The next day and the day after that, you went back to the forest again and again. You kept running and playing all around the mountain, just together with the boy who was probably, at least, twice your age. You managed to break through the walls he built around you, little by little. His quiet, reserved demeanor gradually turned into something warmer, though not as lively or chaotic as you were. He began to tell you his favorite spots in the forest; crafted little ships from long leaves so you could watch them float along the river streams; and grabbed your sun hat when it got blown away by the wind before they got caught between the branches of a willow tree. 

You even got Taeyong to play tag with you. You would run away from him, and he would chase after you with a twig on his hand so he didn’t have to touch you directly when he said, “Tag, you’re it!” Taeyong’s favorite trick was pretending to fall on the ground and waited for you to come back with a worried face. You always did, but Taeyong still wouldn’t be able to catch you even after you fell for his trap because you were always much faster.

These mundane things you shared were special to both you and him. And even though they would most likely dissipate from your memories as you grow older, at that time you felt infinite.

***

One day, you were humming to yourself as you were busy collecting little flowers from the field while Taeyong was lying down on the grass with his mask-covered face facing the clouds. The sun was hot but the wind was nice. At the end of the day, it was comforting.

With a handmade bouquet between your tiny palms, you rose to your feet and ran to Taeyong’s spot, only to found the boy resting there with one hand lying idly on his stomach. You kneeled next to his head, facing him upside down. “Taeyong…” you murmured to yourself, gazing at his cat mask. “Did he fall asleep?”

Slowly, out of curiosity, you reached out a hand. You hesitated, but it would be okay if you only touched his mask, wouldn’t it? Swallowing hard, you decided to take your chance.

How does he look underneath that mask?

You placed your tiny palms on each side of his mask, and slowly, carefully, lifted it off his face. Your heart was racing, as if you were doing something sinful your heart forbid you to. You pulled it higher, and higher, until you could see his face, and for that moment, the time seemed to stop.

Despite his height, Taeyong had a young baby face with long eyelashes brushing the top of his cheeks. His eyes were closed and he looked so blissful, like a baby falling asleep in his mother’s arms. His skin was soft, flawless, but pale—almost transparent as the sun shone its light upon it. His nose was cute. He had curvy, thin lips, with two tiny moles faintly painting his lower one. His jawlines were sharper than Haechan’s, making him look mature, and the more you observed his features, the more you thought that, oh, he was indeed a boy.

A beautiful, beautiful boy.

You thought that Taeyong was unfair to hide such beauty from the world; to only let the world witness malice while he kept such purity inside the forest. 

How young… How innocent…

Then Taeyong suddenly smirked and before you knew it, a pair of deep, dark brown eyes were staring back at you.

“Ah! SORRY!” You exclaimed, startled to the point that all your breath left your lungs at once. Panicking, you unintentionally slammed the mask down onto his face harder than you intended to.

Taeyong hissed in pain, holding his face over the mask, and turned to his side. “Attacking someone while they’re asleep like this,” he said, eventually moved up and sat down cross-legged on the grass. “You surely are a scary little lady.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—” You looked away, muttering quietly. “You were pretending to sleep anyway, weren’t you?”

Taeyong paused for a second before he propped his elbow on his thigh and laid his chin on his palm. Somehow, you felt like he was smiling behind that mask. “I looked normal, didn’t I?” he asked, a bit playfully. This time, it was you who just sat quietly and stared back at him without a word.

“Taeyong… Why are you wearing that mask?”

He straightened up, voice sounding unusually soft when he spoke. “If I don’t wear this mask, I don’t look like a spirit, do I?” Surely with that mask on, Taeyong seemed less human. After all, that mask was designed after the Cat Spirit that was retold from time to time. But why? Why did he have to go that far? Was he scared that people would mistake him for a human and grabbed him accidentally without purpose?

You just sat in silence. Somehow, your chest tightened, as if you were drowning little by little. It was heartbreaking to know that Taeyong seemed like he didn’t have a choice. Maybe he wanted to throw that mask away. Maybe he wanted to be human—or at least, look like one. Maybe he wanted to be connected. To truly be alive. But then that would mean he had to risk everything…

And knowing how even days had passed by, you hadn’t seen anyone getting along with him other than you, Taeyong had probably never set a foot outside the forest either.

Is that why he seems so…

Lonely?

“You’re weird,” you said and you ended the topic just like that. Because if Taeyong didn’t want to tell, then you wouldn’t want to force the words out of his mouth.

Taeyong only chuckled.

***

“Taeyong.”

“Hmm?”

“I don’t think…” You stared sadly at your feet as you climbed down the stone steps that lead you back to the entrance gate. “I don’t think I can go back here tomorrow.”

Taeyong didn’t utter a word. Like usual, he just walked in front of you with his hands in his pockets and his mask pressed tightly against his face.

“I’ve told you before, haven’t I?” You continued. “That I’m just staying at my uncle’s place for the summer? So, I have to go home tomorrow…”

Taeyong just hummed once, to let you know that he was listening but did not intend to form a reply. You brought your head down, feeling disappointed. But why were you disappointed? You never felt like this when you said goodbye to your other friends before.

Taeyong stopped dead on his tracks. “Will you…” he said, turning his body slightly to face you but not quite. “Will you be able to come again next year?”

You stood still, your lips trembled slightly as if you were about to explode into words. Before you knew it, you felt your eyes grew a bit teary but you blinked your tears away before they fell and with a huge smile on your face, you merrily replied, “Yeah!” You had never felt so relieved.

And that was how summer became something you always looked forward to.

***

Every year, you came back and Taeyong always waited for your promised summer. You would find him sitting near the gate, on the stone stairs with his white cat mask placed upon his face. The two of you usually just did the same routines, lying lazily on the field of grass, eating ice creams as you crossed the wooden bridge, or throwing pebbles while dipping your bare feet into the water of the lake that was as clear as the sky.

“So cold!” You were turning eight that year, shouting as you plunged your bare feet into the water. Taeyong only let out a flat comment, “You’re weird. Of course the water is cold.” And although he sounded bored, you could tell that he was probably smiling behind his mask. After all, he could have just stayed silent about it, and yet he said something just to pull a reaction from you. You adored that part of him where he acted like he was fine being alone when in reality, there was nothing he craved more than someone’s attention.

Sometimes, when you walked too close to each other, a Spirit would show up in some form to revive the forgotten space between you. A lady wearing a snow-like kimono with flaming red hair once grabbed the side of his cheek and said with a pair of agonizing eyes, “Please be careful, Taeyong. We don’t want to lose you.” 

A willow tree caressed his hair with its branch, pulling him by the neckline so he would distance himself away from you. The way its thick branch was shaped into a beast’s claw, clutching at Taeyong’s entire body was almost frightening, but there was only tenderness laced with concern when it spoke, “It’s dangerous, Taeyong. That’s a human child. If she touches you, you’ll disappear.”

“Thank you,” Taeyong always said, placing a reassuring hand on the tree’s claw. “I’m fine.” He sounded so sincere and absolute, leaving the Spirit Tree with no choice but to retract its claw from him.

“Please don’t touch him, human child,” the Spirit Tree said once again before it went back to its slumber. You could only answer, “Yes,” but to you, it was more than a promise. After all, you wouldn’t want Taeyong to disappear.

You couldn’t help but notice that other Spirits could touch him normally. You tried to put aside how your heart jerked with jealousy. You wouldn’t let your selfishness be the end of him.

Haechan was the one who showed up the most, appearing in his animal form to bite the end of your skirt and pulled you away from the other boy. He persistently yelled at you how your entire existence was a threat to him, making you realize that you were a weapon, designed by God to annihilate him and yet, Taeyong still waited for your visit every year. How could someone dare to take a risk like that? 

Were you really worth all the trouble?

***

Every year, you waited for the summer to come. And before you knew it, you were already a ten-year-old girl. You grew taller, but your hair was still cut short with choppy bangs. Though you grew older, it didn’t mean your childish personality was wiped away.

“Hey,” Taeyong called, searching for you who were hiding somewhere in your sky blue summer dress through the holes of his cat-mask. “It’s dangerous to wander alone in the forest! Where are you—”

“SURPRISEEEED!” You shouted, dangling upside down from a tree branch with your legs circling it. Taeyong yelped, taking a step back in surprise from your sudden appearance. You were enjoying the moment, but before you could laugh about it, the end of your dress couldn’t fight the gravity so it fell covering your face. Your white panties were shown clearly for Taeyong’s eyes to see. “OH NO!” You quickly attempted to pull your dress back up and eventually, shifted your weight so you ended up sitting on the branch.

“What are you doing exactly?” Taeyong asked, not because you looked dumb but because he was genuinely interested in knowing. He always seemed to find your existence somewhat amusing.

You chuckled lightly. “I wanted to see your startled face but…” You forgot he was wearing his mask all the time so that was ultimately pointless. Taeyong just stared back, waiting because you looked like you wanted to say more. “You know, Taeyong… Can you at least take your mask off when I’m around? Once in a while is okay, right?”

Taeyong let a second pass. “Well, it’s fine but…” He placed his fingers at the end of his mask and slowly began to lift it off his face. “Is there a particular reason why?”

You observed him with anticipation. “Well, not really, but—” A cracking sound could be heard as the branch wasn’t strong enough to handle your weight, and with a shriek, you found yourself falling.

Calling your name, Taeyong ran towards you in reflex, arms out and ready to catch you. In a split second, as you fought to defy gravity, you could see his hands desperately trying to save you. Aside from the fear of falling, all you could think about was—

No.

Please, don’t.

Don’t touch me.

If you touch me, you’ll—

You fell head first on small bushes that were soft and safe enough for you to land on. You had landed on the ground before Taeyong could reach you and although you felt like you probably twisted your shoulder a little, you were more than fine.

“That was close…” Taeyong breathed out, his hands still hanging stiffly in the air.

“Y-yeah…” You felt slightly lightheaded as adrenaline faded away from your veins. You were in haze, body reclining against the bushes, grateful to be able to come unscathed. 

“I’m sorry,” Taeyong murmured, but from not being able to be there on time to catch you or because he had retracted his hands back in reflex when he nearly touched your skin, you weren’t sure. “Are you okay?”

You exchanged stares, letting a few seconds pass by in silence before you finally let out a weak chuckle. “Thank goodness.” When Taeyong asked you what you meant, you softly added, “No matter what happened, Taeyong, don’t ever touch me, okay?”

His lips were tightly shut as he approached your spot, but the gesture he made with his hands seemed like he wanted to comfort you. Why would he want to comfort me, you thought but soon enough, you found the answer.

Because when you spoke again, your words are tainted with your tears.

“Did you hear me?” You forced yourself to smile but once the first tear broke, the rest of them were unstoppable. You cried again, and again, and again, until your whole body trembled, chest suffocating. You tried to laugh it off, shakily saying, “No matter what, okay?” but the more you tried to pretend that it didn’t faze you when you almost erased his entire existence over your negligence, you sobbed even harder.

You finally understood why the Spirits didn’t want you to be close to him. It wasn’t because they didn’t trust you. It was because Taeyong was just too kind. Even if it meant he would be wiped off the earth, he wouldn’t mind as long as you were safe. The way he had run toward you with his arms reaching out to you was a proof of that. The Spirits probably thought that Taeyong would be obliterated someday not because you touched him, but because he tried to save you when something like this happened again.

No. I can’t afford that.

No matter what, please don’t touch me.

You didn’t want him to see this side of you. You didn’t want him to know that in a human world, sometimes pain could be so unbearable that all you could do was just fall to your knees and wish that someday you could stop crying and stand up again. 

This ugly side of humanity… You didn’t want Taeyong to know…

But Taeyong never said a word.

***

The next summer and the summer after that, you continued to visit the forest to meet him.

“Taeyong! I’m here again this year!” You greeted, wearing your junior high school uniform with your skirt ending a few inches above your knees. Taeyong, dressed in the same way like he always did, was already there at the spot where he usually waited for you to arrive. “Ta-daa!” You twirled once for him, making your skirt flutter and your longer hair sway above your neckline. “I’ve become a seventh-grader now!”

As always, you couldn’t tell what kind of expression he had behind that mask, but Taeyong was indeed staring at you for a few seconds. “Somehow…” he began saying, “You’re starting to look like a girl.”

“I am a girl,” you replied, unconsciously pouting and Taeyong laughed a little in response. Even the way he laughed felt like summer to you—radiant and hot enough to light a spark of fire to your chest. Standing up, he stuck his hands inside his pockets, and climbed up the stairs. “Shall we go?”

“Yeah.” You smiled, then as you saw his figure, you began to realize. “Oh…”

“Hmm?”

“Nothing.” 

You just noticed that your ages were gradually getting closer. Unlike you, Taeyong didn’t age normally as any human would. Somehow, he aged much slower, maintaining his youth to stay perfectly the same from season to season. Your height was almost on the same par as Taeyong’s shoulders now. As the years went by, your appearance began to change, but Taeyong almost looked the same as the day you first met.

If this keeps on going… Maybe…

You stopped walking when you realized Taeyong wasn’t walking beside you anymore. You looked back, facing the sun that was setting behind the hill and the boy who stood with his face lifted to perceive the sky. There was a butterfly on Taeyong’s mask, just right on the cat’s nose and slowly, he began to take it off. Underneath the shadow of the mask, Taeyong was smiling, softly, gently, and he eventually brought his mask down to stare at the butterflies that flew through the branches of the trees.

He closed his eyes.

From where you were standing, Taeyong merely appeared like a silhouette but in your eyes, he was a painting worth being praised. A beautiful portrayal of a man who only knew bliss in his life with a pure smile that even God wouldn’t be able to resist its beauty.

It was probably the day when you realized the reason behind the ache in your chest.

Someday, I will be older than him, won’t I?

You didn’t know what would be more dreadful to face: Taeyong leaving you over an accidental touch, or you leaving Taeyong because of old age. After all, time is cruel. Time is responsible for the summers that come and go, for the leaves in autumn that shrivel, for the long and cold winters that made your teeth jittery. It’s amazing how you can fall asleep by listening to the sound of the rain and when you wake up, the sun is blazing once again and the roads are dry. It would be as if it never rained.

What if I become like that? You questioned yourself. What if for Taeyong, I’m just nothing more than a fleeting summer day?

With the two of you being bound by the chains of time, you knew that there would come a day where time would become your enemy.

You buried your thoughts deep inside your mind, and promised him, “I’ll come back here again tomorrow, okay?”

Taeyong opened his eyes, gazing back at you, and smiled that one breathtakingly beautiful smile. “Then I’ll be waiting as always.”

***

“Before our summer vacation started, a boy in my class asked me out,” you said, now fourteen, as you hugged your knees to your chest, making sure that your sky blue sleeveless summer dress was not showing the polkadot panties you wore underneath. “I didn’t know what to do.”

Taeyong didn’t respond, wasn’t sure how to. He just stared at you—blankly, by the look of his cat mask, and you curled your toes in the uncomfortable silence.

“Say something, will you?” you mumbled after a while, heat rushing to your cheeks.

“I don’t even know what that means.”

“Well, that—” You opened your mouth but then nothing came out. What did that mean exactly? ‘To go out’? “Well, I mean, I think he wants me to date him… or something,” you finished terribly.

Taeyong hummed, lying down on the grass and folding his hands underneath his head to use them as his pillow. The leaves of the trees above him were doing a great job in providing the shades he needed. “Date, huh?”

There was something annoying about how Taeyong behave so nonchalantly like this, as if you were conversing about what you had for breakfast. But you noticed that it was weird of you to feel that way. Did you even have the right to be upset?

“What do you suppose they do?” Taeyong suddenly asked, snapping you out of your reverie.

“They?”

“People who are dating,” he explained further, his hands now moving to lay on his sides. “What do you think they do?”

You thought about it, looking up at the pillowy white clouds and feeling the wind that caressed your strands. “I don’t know,” you answered, throwing yourself to the grass again, next to Taeyong but remembering to put a safe distance between you. “Maybe go somewhere together, hold hands and stuff?”

Taeyong fell into another silence.

You couldn’t help but let your eyes linger on the small gap between your pinky finger and his. You almost moved your hand closer, just a little bit, but then he lifted his arm and you nearly yelped in shock.

Taeyong took off his mask and placed it over his chest. His hand was now nowhere close to your smaller one. He had his eyes closed and from where you were lying on his side, you could see how long his eyelashes were, how they fluttered against his cheeks. Taeyong still looked so young, like a pure little boy with no idea how to sin, and perhaps that was because he never stepped a foot outside the forest. You envied his naivety but you also questioned how he truly felt for living a life monotonously like that. Even though he had Haechan and the rest of his Spirit friends here, was it really better for him to have no contact with humans?

Because sometimes… Taeyong looked so lonely.

The boy parted his lips. “Do you think they would kiss?”

If you had been drinking, you would’ve sprayed all of it on Taeyong’s face. “What?!”

“Those couples,” Taeyong elucidated, as if you were asking because you didn’t understand, when in reality you were just utterly embarrassed by it. “Do you think they kiss a lot?”

“What—” You almost bit your tongue. “Who even told you this stuff?! I thought you were supposed to live inside the forest!”

“I do, but it doesn’t mean I’m raised like Tarzan, you know.”

He even knows Tarzan! You wanted to scream. “Let me guess, Haechan?”

“Yeah.”

That perverted little fox! Of course he told him this stuff! 

“Yeah, well, I think they do,” you sighed, lying down on the grass again with another huff. “I remember having this conversation with a friend. See, she has a boyfriend, and she told me that they were kissing the other day. I, just like now, didn’t know what to say.”

“You never kissed anyone before?”

Your face was aflame and it had nothing to do with the sun. “N-no…” Of course not! If I had done it, then—

“Why not?” Taeyong asked, staring at you with genuine curiosity. You promptly looked away, ignoring the question.

Because then you’d disappear, you idiot. But how could you tell Taeyong that? You didn't even know why you wanted to kiss him. When exactly did you start wanting it? When did you start looking at him differently?

“I just…” You absentmindedly played with the tip of the grass underneath your fingers. “…haven’t found the right person yet.” Actually, I have, but if I touch him, he’ll disappear so… “And there’s a difference, you know, between kissing someone because they’re attractive and kissing someone because, umm, w-words can no longer express the intense feelings you have for them.” You clear your throat, feeling a bit nauseous all of a sudden. “Even if I did go out with him, I can’t just kiss him because he’s cute. It’s not right.”

Taeyong’s eyes were following the clouds, which were somehow changing shapes from one to another. “A kiss, huh…” he mumbled, reaching out a hand toward the sky and spread his fingers widely as if he was about to seize the sun. “I wonder if humans are as warm as this.”

“As the sun?” You asked, laughing quietly. “I certainly hope not. That’d be scary.”

Taeyong only smiled, slowly averting his eyes to lock them with yours. But you’re already burning as bright though…

“What?” You asked when you saw him looking at you without saying anything. “Did Haechan draw something on my face again? I swear to God, it’s like I can’t even let my guard down for one sec—”

“Don’t kiss him,” Taeyong suddenly said, abruptly cutting the rest of your sentence short and leaving you gaping, loss for words. When silence came to fill the space, he tried to break through the tension. “I mean…” He scratched his cheek awkwardly. “Well, it’s your choice, but…”

Your heart warmed. “But…?”

Taeyong’s tongue laid heavy in his mouth and he quickly put his cat mask back on. “We’re too far inside the forest. We should be getting back now before it’s too late,” he sternly said, sitting up. “Come on, I’ll walk you to the gate.” And he stood up, placed his hands inside his pockets as always, and walked away without even waiting for you to get up.

You followed with a blissful smile breaking on your face.

“I won’t,” you said, loud enough for him to hear. “If you don’t want me to kiss him, I won’t.” Taeyong never said anything back.

But you noticed the way the tip of his ears went red.

***

Taeyong called your name. His voice, like always, sounded a little bit muffled from the mask. “Hey, I’m back. Too bad, I can’t find the—”

The sight of you in your favorite peach summer dress, sleeping soundly on the grass as if nothing could attack you at that moment, made him grow speechless. You had one arm lying down on your stomach, your lips were slightly parted  as you fell deep into slumber, and Taeyong could see your chest heaving up and down slowly every time you breathed.

“Goodness,” he muttered, sighing. “This is a forest, you know? Moreover, it’s the forest where Spirits live. What would you do if they attack you?” Not that Taeyong actually thought that would happen—except for Haechan. That devilish fox could be pretty childish when he got jealous. Taeyong wouldn’t be surprised if he found him biting the edge of your dress again.

But, of course, you didn’t hear him. You had always been a heavy sleeper, even a clap of thunder could barely wake you up.

Taeyong huffed once more before he sat down next to you, taking a glance at the beauty marks on your face, at your bangs that had grown longer since your first visit two months ago, and at the lovely shape of your mouth. The way your lips seemed so soft and rosy, sparked curiosity and something within him that he couldn’t properly name, as he didn’t quite understand the feeling just yet.

Pressing one palm to the grass to prop his weight, Taeyong took off his mask. His silvery-white hair fell covering his hooded eyes but the soft wind blew it away. He leaned over, almost hovering above you by the time he laid his other palm on the other side of your head. Releasing a shaky breath, he brought his face down to yours.

I’m… Towards you, I’ve been…

Close. So close. Taeyong could even count your eyelashes if he wanted. You were breathing softly, warm air flowing from your slightly parted lips. Taeyong wanted to seal them with his own.

“Taeyong?”

Taeyong blinked, freezing on the spot. You were awake, staring at him with your eyes still slightly red from sleep. “Taeyong, what are you doing…?”

Taeyong only stared at you, eyes to eyes with such close proximity. He could tell how nervous you were, no matter how hard you tried to keep your face composed.

“I couldn’t find the flower you wanted,” he said, with a voice so calm as if he was speaking in a safe distance. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s…” You swallowed, still locking your gaze together although your heart was screaming like a beating drum. “It’s all right…”

Taeyong spent another two seconds being in that position before he finally pulled away, just to press his mask to your face. You let out an ‘oof’ sound of surprise but you didn’t take it off. You just laid there, completely still, with his mask covering your face. It smelled just like him—the dry air of summer, with a hidden scent of fresh green grass and sunray.

“Your face’s red,” Taeyong said. “Go back to sleep.”

You wondered whether the sun managed to bite through your skin and warm your face like this. But how would that explain your racing heartbeat?

“Okay…” you murmured and the sounds of birds chirping suddenly became louder as you both fell mute, unsure of what to say.

Not far from there, a golden fox scrunched his nose in annoyance. With a small puff of smoke, Haechan returned to his human form.

“Is he an idiot?” Haechan growled in his human voice, sneaking around behind the bushes with no clothes on like usual. “What would he have done if she didn’t wake up? Did he want to die?! I should’ve knocked some sense into his head! Stupid Taeyongie!” But despite the venom in his words, Haechan could only look away and do nothing. After all…

Taeyong had looked so happy.

There was only this little smile displayed on his lips, yet somehow he looked more alive than Haechan had ever seen him before. It was the first time Haechan ever witnessed that kind of expression on him.

Haechan gritted his teeth and clenched his fists. “That idiot,” he said again, grumbling but instead of running back and throwing a fist at the other man, Haechan kept walking away and bit his lower lip until it grew white. Stop looking that happy. You know how this would end, don’t you? She can’t give you the happy ending you want. 

Don’t start something that will only hurt you, Hyung…

***

On the last day of your eighth summer together, you bought Taeyong a scarf. When he asked the reason why, you simply explained with, “My uncle said the winter will be freezing this year, so be sure to wear it, okay?”

“I don’t get cold, though.”

“Just wear it.”

Taeyong hummed, taking a detailed look at the maroon knitted scarf in his hands. The cuts that appeared on your fingers when you tried to knit it three months earlier had disappeared, and just by seeing him holding it already made you feel like it worth every effort you’d given.

“Oh, and here.” You took a small music player from your summer dress’s pocket. It had earphones and batteries that would definitely last for at least a month if it was only used once a while. “I’ll give you this.”

“You’re giving me a lot of things today,” Taeyong commented. “And what’s this?”

“An mp3 player,” you said as you sat next to him on the stone stairs. “Here, I’ll show you how it works. First, you press here to turn it on, then you pick the song from the playlist.” You demonstrated every word and Taeyong stared intently at the mp3 screen from the holes of his mask. “I already put some songs in it. I’m not sure what kind of music you like, so I kind of put every genre I could find. You can skip it by pressing here if you hate the song.”

“How can I hate it when I can’t even hear it?” he innocently asked and you laughed.

“That’s why they invented these earphones, silly,” you giggled, and without waiting for his permission, you plugged in one earphone to his ear while you pressed the other one to your own. You moved a bit closer toward him and Taeyong fidgeted a bit from the distance. “Don’t worry, I won’t touch you,” you said and you wondered since when did it begin to hurt you so much when you said those words? “But be very still, okay?”

“Oh, it’s playing.” Taeyong was astonished when the song started playing in his ear. It was a piece from Beethoven, a sound of violin combined with piano and cello. You explained everything to him, from the instruments, to the harmony, to the genius composers in the music industry. It was all new to him. “And what’s that sound?”

“That’s the sound of timpani,” you explained and when you glanced to the side, you realized how close you were to him. One wrong move and you could hurt him. You needed to be extra careful. It was probably best to move away, Haechan would’ve certainly told you so but just for one more second…

Let me be this close to you for one more second before I go…

“Wait, don’t change the song,” Taeyong said, snatching you away from your thoughts. Your finger stopped moving around the playlist. “I want to hear this one to the end.”

You grew quiet. There were over a hundred songs you had put into the music player and out of all of them, Taeyong had to choose this song. This one song that took you an entire night contemplating whether you should put it inside the device or not.

“This is the sound of a violin, right?” Taeyong asked, looking serious because of his mask but you dared to think that he was smiling underneath it. “It’s nice. It’s not as rich as the other piece that had timpani in it, but… It’s beautiful. I like this one.”

You stood up abruptly, your earphone detaching itself from your ear. “I—I have to go. It’s getting late.”

“Huh?” Taeyong was a bit startled. “Oh. Yeah…”

You stepped forward, not looking back at him or waved him goodbye like usual. Instead, you rushed forward with your head hanging low.

To think that he would like your song.

To think that he would say that your violin playing was nice.

To think that he would prefer your song better than any other ones there.

“Hey,” Taeyong called, and you froze before you slowly peered back at him. If he could see the blush on your cheeks and ask about it, you would lie and say that the lights were playing tricks on him.

“Thanks for these,” Taeyong said and the boy had taken off his mask. With that warm smile that almost matched the warmth of the sun drowning behind him, he waved his hand goodbye. “Until we meet next summer.”

***

“Why doesn’t he wear clothes?” You exasperatedly asked one day, in the middle of a blazing summer. It was your ninth summer together. You were fifteen-years-old, and Taeyong… Well, you never actually knew what his real age was but he still looked like he was around eighteen as always.

“Who, Haechan?” Taeyong asked, and the little golden fox lounging on his lap perked his ears at the question. Taeyong smiled a little and you, once again, whispered gratitude toward whatever it was that made him take off his mask that day. The boy placed his palm on the Fox’s head and stroke its fur. Haechan purred and leaned into the touch, his tails swaying happily behind him. “Haechan doesn’t like human clothes. He said they’re uncomfortable.”

“Well, I’m uncomfortable seeing a grown man walking around naked and clinging to you like a possessive girlfriend—” Your sentence shortly ended with a shriek when a cloud of smoke exploded around you and you knew perfectly well what caused it.

“I’m not his girlfriend, you ugly monkey, but Taeyong-Hyung is mine!” Haechan, already standing in all of his naked glorious human form, shouted as he hugged him from behind, having one arm around Taeyong’s neck, and his chin being annoyingly close to the other boy’s shoulder. “And I’m not clingy because I want to. He’s just warmer than any other Spirits here and I happen to like warmth.”

“It’s summer.” You squinted your eyes menacingly, sounding remarkably irritated but still trying your best to hide the flustered look on your face because no matter annoying Haechan was, he was still a fully naked boy. “It’s like forty degrees out here, how much hotter do you want?”

Haechan actually had the knack to ignore you with a “Hmph!” while puffing out his cheeks and nuzzled his head against Taeyong’s palm. “You don’t find me annoying, do you, Taeyongie?”

Taeyong smiled and patted his head. “I’m already used to you being like this.” Haechan’s golden tail wagged excitedly in delight. “But you should put some clothes on, Haechannie. You’re making her feel uneasy.”

“I don’t care about that monkey girl!”

“What did you say, you stupid fox?!”

Both you and Haechan gritted your teeth, facing one on one in a glaring battle before your head nearly burst from being unable to contain the shame. Haechan was so naked, you couldn’t handle staring at him for a second longer than that. Haechan was cackling proudly for achieving victory.

“That’s not nice,” Taeyong scolded and Haechan only huffed, curling on the ground and laying his head on Taeyong’s lap.

“Of course,” Haechan grumbled quietly, plump lips turning into a pout. “Why should I be nice to a girl who can make you disappear anytime she wants? That’s ridiculous.”

You froze, heart dropping to your stomach, before you hugged your knees to your chest and half-buried your face in them. Taeyong was glancing at you for a second before he brought his eyes back to the boy on his lap and pinched Haechan’s nose.

“Hey, ouch!” Haechan batted his hand away, snarling. “What the hell was that for?!”

Taeyong didn’t utter a word but there was something… Some kind of tension that made Haechan pout angrily and mutter harshly in your direction. “Well, I’m sorry, okay?” Haechan heaved the loudest sigh. His ears went down dejectedly as he laid on his side. Taeyong’s hand had stopped long from stroking his golden hair. “I know you don’t mean any harm to Taeyong-hyung, but… I mean, I… I…”

You waited in silence as Haechan tried to form his words. He looked rather cute, trying desperately to draw the right sentence to apologize when he would pretty much prefer dying instead of doing so. Eventually, Haechan sat up, pointing rudely at you with his finger, and shouted, “All right, fine! You’re allowed to stay with my Taeyongie for now, but if you pull some kind of trick like trying to kiss him in his sleep again, I won’t forgive you, OKAY?!”

Both you and Taeyong jolted, hearts thumping loudly behind your ribcages.

He was watching?! But wait, Taeyong thought, he said she was trying to kiss me. So he wasn’t watching me when I tried to kiss her. But when did she…

Taeyong turned his head toward you at the same time you were averting your gaze from Haechan’s to his. Both of you blushed and immediately brought your eyes away.

“I—I should go.” You abruptly stood up, your knees wobbling under your weight. This is so embarrassing, I could die! “I’ll c-come back tomorrow, okay?”

“Huh?” Taeyong was not being himself, losing his composure. “Yeah, s-sure. I’ll—”

But you had already walked away from your spot, mentally slapping yourself in the face because oh God, no, now he knows. What should I do? How can I face him now?

“What’s up with that girl?” Haechan asked, raising an eyebrow as he draped his bare arms all over Taeyong’s body again. “I know she’s weird, but that was too weird, right?”

“Haechannie.”

Taeyong’s voice startled him a bit. “Y-yeah?”

“When you said…” Taeyong swallowed, the thought of him trying to kiss you in your sleep started to overwhelm him once more. Did she really do the same thing to me? When? “What you said before… Was it true? Did she really try to kiss me?”

It was saddening for him that Taeyong was paying more attention to you than to him again. Ever since you came into his life, all Taeyong could ever talk about was you. You were the reason behind his smiles, when it was used to be Haechan who brought warmth to Taeyong’s cold demeanor. “Well,” Haechan sighed in defeat. “To tell you the truth…”

With a dandelion flower tucked between his fox teeth, Haechan ran with all of his power to where Taeyong was. He moved his four legs as fast as he could, his golden tail swinging behind him. Being a small fox had its perks. He could easily jump from one tree to another, he could slip through narrow spaces, and Taeyong once said that he had soft fur that was nice to touch. Haechan truly adored that boy so as a token of his gratitude; he wanted to give him a dandelion flower—one that Taeyong loved the most.

Taeyongie! Taeyongie! I want to meet him! I want to give this to him!

So he ran faster, and faster, looking for him until Haechan saw his figure sitting next to a tree with his spine pressed against the thick trunk. From where he was, Haechan could only see his back.

Ah, there he is! Taeyongie!

He ran faster, crossing the field of grass to get to that spot, but only to find Taeyong sleeping with his bangs covering his eyes and his mask tossed to his side. Then there was you—the girl who always hung around him—kneeling in front of him with… 

Haechan blinked. What kind of expression is that?

Your eyes were soft, your lips parted forming Taeyong’s name, and even from where Haechan was hiding behind the tree, he could tell that you were nervous. There was something different with the way you looked. Haechan usually saw you as an annoying, little clumsy girl who posed nothing but a threat to his dearest friend. But that day, he noticed how feminine you really were.

Has she… Haechan unconsciously thought, his heart racing a little. Has she always been that pretty?

“Please don’t wake up,” you whispered, your cheeks heating up. Then you leaned forward, pressing your palm to the grass next to his waist to prop your weight.

Wait! Haechan shouted in his head but he couldn’t will himself to move. Wait, what do you think you’re doing—

Then you closed your eyes and filled the spaces between you. Haechan wasn’t breathing at that moment. He couldn’t even think.

You were kissing Taeyong.

That girl! Haechan yelled in anger. If Taeyong disappears, I am going to kill—

“Hmm?” Taeyong’s voice came through his hearing. “Oh sorry, seems like I fell asleep. You came back already, huh?”

“Yeah,” you replied, smiling at him before you stood up. “I was just going to drop this for you and leave since I thought you were sleeping.” 

Haechan crawled a bit closer to take a look at what you were referring to. It was a handful of dandelion flowers—just like what he wanted to give him—with a white paper card laid upon them. 

The paper! Haechan realized. Of course! She was using that when she kissed him!

You took the small paper card and laughed. “I was going to write something like ‘Make a wish for me’ or something but you already woke up.”

When Haechan looked back at Taeyong, the boy was staring at you in the same way you’d looked at him before. Those soft, gentle eyes. That adoring gaze. That longing stare.

Taeyong stood up, taking the dandelions off his lap and offered them back to you. “Why don’t we make a wish together?” he asked, smiling so tenderly that even you got startled for a moment.

“Okay!” you chirped merrily and you walked next to each other as you blew the dandelions one by one.

“What did you wish for?”

“World peace,” you answered with a grin. “You?”

Taeyong sneaked a glance toward the small gap that separated your hands from one another. “An ice cream,” he said, smiling back. 

You tittered, oblivious about the actual thing he desired the most. “You’re so weird.”

Haechan watched from afar, hiding behind the shades of the tree before he eventually transformed into his human form, laid his back against the trunk and blew his own dandelion flower away. The seeds were swaying together with the wind, leaving him alone as Taeyong’s chatter began to wash away from his ears.

“Idiot,” Haechan muttered. “Stop being so obvious. You’re even making me embarrassed.”

“Haechannie?” Taeyong’s soft voice woke him from his reverie. Noticing how the boy hadn’t spoken for a while, he asked, “What’s wrong?”

Haechan glared at him, shouting. “Nothing’s wrong! Just go die, you idiot!” Then he morphed back to his animal form, bit him in the nose and scurried off.

Taeyong hissed in pain, rubbing his nose. “Why is everybody leaving so suddenly today?” he sighed before throwing himself back to the ground, lying on the grass with the sun showering him with its light.

Ah, I want to see her again already.

***

Seasons changed and what was once warm air caressing your strands, had turned into soft snow prickling against your skin and coating your spine with shivers. You began to realize that the world became a little dull as you grew older. You stared at the glassy window in front of you with lifeless eyes, close enough to make the glass hazy with your warm breath. The school’s bell rang, indicating that your next class was about to begin but you kept standing still in the hallway, just staring at the cloudy weather.

A boy called your name—Mark Lee, you remembered well, from his big doe eyes and his messy raven hair. “Shouldn’t you be heading to the lab? Everyone already left.”

“Huh?” You blinked, still somewhat dazed until you noticed that Mark was already carrying his textbook, ready to move to the biology lab. “Ah, right!” You sputtered, turning on your heels to run toward your classroom but Mark caught you by the wrist.

“Here,” he said, giving you the note and the textbook you wanted to grab. “We’re going to be late, so I’ve brought your stuff with me. Let’s go.”

And if your thoughts weren’t so distraught, you would’ve noticed how Mark had been paying more attention to you than anybody else for the past few weeks.

But that was the problem. You had been having trouble focusing these days. Everything just seemed to pass by like a blur. During your next class, you didn’t pay any attention at all. It wasn’t like you were busy chatting or drawing random doodles on your note. You were just staring blankly at your textbook. Your eyes were half-lidded, your thoughts scattering all over the places.

At home, you hardly finished your dinner. Your mother scolded you as she thought her daughter was snacking before they shared sukiyaki at the dining table. You could only pout before you took your leave. You didn’t tell your mother that you had hardly eaten anything all day.

When the lights were off and you were settling down under your blanket in bed, you couldn’t sleep. You kept staring at your ceiling, part of your soul going somewhere else. Somewhere where it was warmer, brighter, with a stupid-looking cat mask in sight.

You eventually closed your eyes with the thought of gentle brown eyes staring at you behind silvery white strands.

Six more months left until I can see you again.

***

“Good morning.”

You exhaled from your mouth, creating visible puffs of air in the chilly weather. Your coat and scarf were clinging tightly to your body and yet you still felt cold. You never enjoyed the winter season. Or, any other seasons, for that matter.

“I said, good morning.”

You blinked. Your brain finally could process that someone had been calling you since a moment ago. “Oh,” you said, smiling politely. “Good morning, Mark.”

“Dozing off already?” Mark said, fixing the strap of his bag that was about to fall off his shoulder. “Isn’t it still too early for that?”

You could only laugh but even the sound of it felt empty to your ears.

“There’s frozen ice underneath your feet,” he warned, his voice sounded a bit muffled. Half of his face was covered with his checkered navy blue scarf. “Be careful.”

You stopped walking and noticed that you were indeed standing on asphalt-covered with black ice. It made a soft creaking sound when you tried to walk on it. It was too slippery.

“You’ll slip. It’s dangerous.” Mark took out his hand from the pocket of his brown duffle coat. “Come here,” he called, offering his hand. There were clouds of breath when he spoke.

Appalled, but only for a second, you then smiled gratefully. “Thank you.” You took his hand, but Mark was the one who held it tighter. He was warm and the texture of his palm was rough. You never knew that a boy’s hand could feel like this.

You were no longer walking on the frozen ice but Mark never let go of your hand. He just continued walking in front of you, dragging you gently by the hand. “It’s cold today, isn’t it?” he said and you wondered whether you should reply to a rhetorical question like that. You ended up saying nothing.

“Haven’t you been a little out of it lately?” Mark asked after the small awkward silence. “Actually, you’ve always been that way, but…” 

His grip around your hand wasn’t exactly too tight or too loose, and it somehow felt nice so you were confused. Why weren’t you affected by it? Why didn’t you feel anything at all? Some other students who were passing you were staring, and both you and Mark would probably need to get ready to clarify dating rumors the second you arrived at class but you felt nothing. Nothing at all, except…

Mark’s mouth was moving but you couldn’t hear him over the loudness of your thoughts.

I want to see Taeyong.

I want to touch him.

I want to feel his hand on mine.

I miss him.

But you still had six months left before summer came.

It didn’t use to be a problem. But at that particular moment, as Mark began to lace his fingers more comfortably around yours, you thought that it hurt. Not seeing Taeyong was more than painful.

It was suffocating.

***

“Is that your new uniform?” Taeyong asked, leaning his shoulder to the tree near the stone stairs where you usually met. That was his first line after nine months of separation. 

You timidly smiled, nodding with your fingers interlacing behind your back. You were wearing a white and dark blue uniform, indicating that you had become a high school student that year. You wore a hairpin to clip your bangs from falling over your face. Taeyong didn’t comment on it but he noticed how your hair had grown longer, and how he loved it now as much as he’d loved it then.

“Time really flies, doesn’t it?” Taeyong marveled, as you climbed up the stone stairs, walking to a deeper part of the forest. “You’re already in high school, huh?”

The cicadas were singing loud behind your backs. They always sang the loudest when it was hot. “Yup.”

You sat on the carpet of green grass near the pond. Pink lotuses were growing, blooming underneath the sun. Taeyong sat cross-legged, and you sat next to him with your legs folded carefully to guard your skirt against blowing because of the wind.

“You don’t come running at me anymore these days,” Taeyong chuckled “You were so clingy when you were a kid.”

“Of course not.” You scoffed. “I’ve learned my lesson after all the beatings you did.”

Taeyong stayed in silence so you eventually looked away and diverted your gaze toward the sky. “I’m really looking forward to it,” you said. “In three years, when I graduate, I plan on looking for a job here. Then, I can be with you more. In winter, in autumn, in spring… We’ll always be together.” Your voice became softer, just like the sheepish smile you displayed on your face. “Always, okay?”

Taeyong glanced back at you through the holes of his mask. You seemed so optimistic and bright; it was almost painful.

Because what were you doing exactly? You both knew this wouldn’t last. You weren’t supposed to be together. There was no way for you to be together without you hurting each other in the end.

It was just… Impossible…

When Taeyong called your name, his voice had lost its cheeriness. “Let me tell you about myself.”

You blinked. “Eh?”

“I’m not a spirit,” Taeyong said, sitting up better on the ground. “But I’m also no longer human. It seems like I was once a human, but when I was a baby, I was abandoned in this forest.”

Taeyong could no longer recall the memory back when he was a baby, being left all alone in a wooden basket in the middle of a haunted forest. “I’d only just been abandoned, so I cried helplessly, as if to call back the parents who left me.”

But Taeyong’s tone was no longer painted with agony. You wondered how many years had truly passed since the day he was abandoned for him to feel nothing when he spoke about it.

“They said I didn’t stop crying for a long time,” Taeyong said, and you noticed that he must have been talking about the Spirits. “It was until they placed this cat mask on my face that I began to laugh. I should’ve died then, but the Mountain God appeared and cast a spell that allowed me to continue living so that I never move on.”

Taeyong never once looked at you when he retold his story. “I’m like a ghost,” he said, and finally turned his mask-covered face toward you. “So, it’s okay if you forget about me.” You couldn’t find anything to say. Your mind was busy processing all the information you'd just received. “A body that’s maintained by magic is very weak,” Taeyong continued nonetheless as he stared at his own palm. “If it touches a real human body, the spell will break and the body will disappear. It’s such a fragile thing…” There was an obvious pain in his voice now. “Just how long can you—”

“Something that disappears when touched,” you immediately said, not wanting to hear the question escaping his lips. “It’s just like snow, isn’t it?”

This time, it was Taeyong who went speechless.

“You know, Taeyong…” You embraced your knees to your chest, staring at the pond. The light cast its reflection on your face, which to Taeyong only added more sparks to your beauty. “I thought of you during winter. And fall… And spring… I thought of you all the time, so...” You locked their gazes together as you smiled. “Don’t forget about me, okay? Don’t forget. Time might separate us one day, but still, until then, let’s stay together.”

Taeyong never once discussed it again. He decided that you were worth it. He would allow himself to be selfish. Whether he would disappear from your touch, or whether you would pass away on your deathbed even when he was still in his twenties, no one could ever know. But if he could spend that time with you, no matter how short it would be, no matter how much it would hurt, he would endure the pain. If it meant that he would stay together with you, he would crush his own happy ending. Because you had decided to let yours go.

And there was no way he would let you go down that road on your own.

***

“A spirit festival?” You asked, as you sat next to each other near the lake with your feet dipped into the water. Now eighteen, you felt closer to him more than ever. You secretly wondered if someone saw you walking together side-by-side, would they think of you as a couple?

“No, a summer festival held by the spirits,” Taeyong corrected.

“There’s not much of a difference.”

“The nuance is completely different.”

“Nuance?”

“When you were little, I thought you might get scared so I didn’t invite you. But tonight,” Taeyong stopped to showcase his grin. “Can you sneak out of your house? I’ve wanted to go with you for a long time…”

As if you could decline that tempting offer. “I—I want to go!” You exclaimed, jumping up to both of your feet.

“Then meet me at eight at our usual place.”

“But when you think about it,” you muttered, hand propping your chin as you ran through your mind. “A festival filled with Spirits sounds a little unnerving. On top of that, it’s at night.”

Taeyong took off his mask and you could see the sincerity behind his brown eyes. “Don’t worry,” he said, smiling handsomely. “On the outside, it’s not very different from a human festival. It’s supposed to mimic human festivals after all.” And at that time, his smile turned a bit sheepish. “And I will protect you, so…”

You felt like something just lit a fire behind your chest. “W-when you say things like that,” you said, eyes glancing away from embarrassment, “it makes me want to jump at you.” You wanted it to be a joke. You both knew that there was no way you would touch him underneath your conscience.

“Then do it,” Taeyong, in all of his seriousness, said, “I’m serious.”

You could only look at him with conflicted feelings.

***

The summer festival that was held by the Spirits inside the forest was indeed similar to the ones in the living world. Lanterns were lit up, surrounding the place with orange-colored lights that seemed normal enough for your eyes. But when you took a closer look, the fireballs behind the paper lantern were actually dancing. Spirits were everywhere around the place and this time, they didn’t look like ghosts or monsters. They were all disguised as humans, even wearing yukatas and wooden sandals but with masks over their faces—just like Taeyong. Not every Spirit managed to do well with their disguises, though. You could still spot some children with pig noses and cat tails, and you could see Haechan’s fluffy golden tails and matching fox’s ears on his head as he waved a hand and ran toward Taeyong with all of his strength.

Taeyong was wearing a dark grey yukata with his usual cat mask placed on his face, and the Fox boy jumped into his arms, winding his long limbs so naturally around his neck.

“Taeyongie!” Haechan chirped as he nuzzled his nose against Taeyong’s neck, despite them being full-grown men. The other boy pushed him away with one palm.

“Y-you’re wearing clothes,” you stammered, gaping at the sight that Haechan wasn’t actually naked at that moment. Instead, the boy was wearing a white yukata with golden obi around his waist. It matched his blond hair and golden ears perfectly.

Haechan groaned, “Oh man, don’t tell me that monkey girl is here with you to—” The rest of his words died on his tongue the second he checked your appearance. No longer wearing your summer dress, that night you were wrapped in a sky blue kimono with falling cherry blossoms painted around it. You had a salmon-colored obi around your waist, curving your body perfectly and you had your bangs clipped to the side, showing more of your face for them to admire. 

“Hmm?” you asked, tilting your head slightly when you noticed that Haechan was staring without saying a word. “What is it?”

“You…” Haechan gulped before he took a step back and pointed a finger at you. Taeyong could blatantly see the blush on his face but you never paid attention to anyone besides Taeyong. “You’re so ugly, you almost made me puke!” Haechan screamed.

“Excuse me?!” You shouted back and Taeyong laughed when Haechan turned into his animal form, sending a small kick to her face—it wasn’t as painful as it was surprising—before he ran away like a scared little rodent.

“Why are you laughing?” You pouted, rubbing your slightly bruised cheek from Haechan’s attack. “God, he must have hated me so much. What’s his problem? And is he leaving his clothes just like this?!”

Taeyong couldn’t understand why you were so oblivious of Haechan’s feelings. But if it meant he could stare at your adorable confused face longer then he wouldn’t say a word to explain.

“Hey,” Taeyong called, bringing out a thin white scarf from his sleeves. “Tie this around your wrist. You’ll get lost if you don’t.” You obeyed right away, even humming happily as you did it. Taeyong tied the other end around his wrist as well. With that, you were connected to each other.

“It’s just like going on a date,” you said, giggling. Taeyong had brought his mask to the side of his head, so most of his face was shown when he smiled beautifully.

“It is a date,” he said, successfully sending your heart thrumming wildly against your ribcages. When you weren’t as flushed, you mirrored his little smile, wishing for your heart to beat at a slower pace so you could focus more on his beautiful features instead. Taeyong was so close and so handsome; it felt almost surreal for you to witness. “Shall we go?”

You shortly nodded and let him lead the way, a thin white scarf bridging the small gap between you. It’s funny how you weren’t exactly holding hands, but it felt just the same way. Your heart was racing, your thoughts were filled with him, and your never-ending smile, brighter than all the lanterns combined, was the proof of the joy you shared with him.

It was perfect. He was perfect.

There were fireworks, music, and dances. Everything looked so fun. Taeyong bought you cotton candy, but when you tried to take a bite, it flew towards the sky, morphing into clouds between the shining stars. Every time you laughed, Taeyong was grateful to be able to witness the beauty of it. It was so easy for your happiness to be his.

You walked around, checking some food stalls from one place to another, with him trying to match his steps with yours without you knowing. You wanted to buy a mask as well, perhaps one that looked similar to Taeyong’s. When a mask finally caught your interest—a tanned person’s face with his eyes crossed, you touched it to try it on but it turned out that it was an actual Spirit’s face, not a mask. Flustered, you had no choice but to run away, shouting “I’M SO SORRY!” and forcing Taeyong to follow you with chuckles reverberating from his chest.

Taeyong laughed more frequently that night than he had been the entire summer and you loved it. You loved the way he laughed without care. It was like firewood in the cold, darkest night—warming, bright, and beautiful.

“Ah, I had so much fun!” You cheered, still laughing slightly as you walked away from the festival. It was getting late and knowing how your uncle must have been worried for your well-being, Taeyong took you home. “Everyone really went all out with their disguises, didn’t they?” Your voice echoed through the night. “It was like a mimicking competition. You weren’t kidding when you said it’s supposed to imitate human’s festival.” No wonder his uncle’s friend Hyori had managed to sneak inside back then. “Is it like this every year?”

“Yeah, every time summer comes around…” But Taeyong’s voice suddenly lost its liveliness. And as you walked further away from the festival, the forest became dark once more, with only the moon and the stars illuminating your faces.

When Taeyong called your name, it was a mix of a longing sigh and a hushed whisper. Little frogs and insects were making sounds in the background and you could hear your steps matching his as you stepped on the grass, near your usual private pond. “I can no longer wait for summer to come around,” he softly murmured.

You turned your head toward him, glancing at the face of the boy you’d spent your entire summer with. Taeyong was wearing his mask again, and you wished he didn’t. You wanted to see his expression when he said those words.

“When I’m away from you,” Taeyong confessed, “even though I can’t be around the crowds, I want to go see you. Even though I knew it would’ve killed me, I was ready to step a foot outside this forest and run to you. Nine months are too long for me to wait for you.”

You almost reached out a hand to touch his, but you stopped before you got your wish. Instead, you sank your fingernails to your palm, hard enough to tear your skin apart so you could focus on the pain on your skin instead of the one in your chest.

Why does he have to be so close and yet so far away?

Then Taeyong suddenly stopped walking, lifting one hand to take off his mask and pressed it to your face. Before you could understand what was happening, Taeyong bent his head down and kissed the other side of the mask, right where your lips would be if there were no barriers between you. The thin mask was the only thing separating your lips from touching one another.

You froze, seeing Taeyong’s close-up face from the holes of the mask. As you’d guessed, Taeyong had long eyelashes. And he was so beautiful, so gentle, so young but with the expression of a man who spent hundreds of years in silence, yearning for other people’s touch.

Taeyong wasn’t really kissing you and yet, you still couldn’t breathe.

He pulled away after a few seconds had passed; smiling at you in the way it was almost breaking you apart but not quite.

Why does this feel like a goodbye?

“That mask,” he said, gazing straight at you. His smile never faltered from his lips, which only broke your heart even more. “You can have it.” And with him taking another step forward, you began to walk side by side again without uttering any other words.

He probably won’t come back to the place where we usually meet next summer. You pondered, hiding your face behind his mask. This is definitely our last…

“Hey, wait for me!” Two children passed by, running with their little feet and roaring into the night. The first boy managed to get a few steps ahead and his little sister was trying to catch up to him but she fumbled and slipped on her feet.

“Careful!” Taeyong shouted in reflex and reached out a hand to help her. With a hold around her wrist, he managed to prevent her from falling. The little girl smiled, showcasing her teeth and thanked him before she ran away chasing her brother again.

“Be careful, you guys!” You said and the two children waved their hands at you. You chuckled to yourself. I wonder if I was like that when I was a—

Taeyong’s sudden call of your name made you jolt. You hastily turned around, hoping to see him smile from the holes of the mask you had on your face, but instead what you saw was something more.

It was your nightmare.

Taeyong had his hand—the one he used to touch the little girl—stretched out in the air, staring at it with parted lips and wide eyes as his fingertips started to glow and slowly disappearing into thin air like fireflies vanishing in the night.

“Ta…” Your throat, your chest, it felt like fire was consuming every inch of you. “Taeyong..?”

You couldn’t believe what was happening. You wished you were dreaming. You prayed for it to be a dream. But Taeyong was really there, disappearing little by little in front of you and you couldn’t do it. You couldn’t live without him in your life. How could just one touch of a hand do something like this?

“That girl was a human?!” You panicked, head throbbing loudly but the pain didn’t even come close to the aching you felt in your heart. What should I do? What should I do now?! I can’t lose him—I don’t want to lose him—

Taeyong!

The glow started to spread to his wrist, passing his elbow, to his chest and you wanted to scream stop! Don’t take him away from me! Please, stop! But Taeyong was smiling, so widely and beautifully and this time there was no trace of loneliness or secrets he tried to keep to himself like his usual smile. This time, he really did smile with all of his heart.

“Come here!” He called your name between his smiles, throwing his arms out for you to jump into. “I can finally touch you now.”

And you didn’t let a second to waste. You pushed the mask away from your face, facing him with a smile because that was what he deserved and then you hugged him, embraced him tightly with all of your strength, and you never wanted to let go. Taeyong looked so happy so you held your tears to yourself, no matter how much they burned behind your eyelids, and when Taeyong lifted your face and pressed a kiss to your lips, you curled your fingers on the back of his yukata.

Taeyong was so warm. And soft. And…

Gone.

You fell to your knees with his yukata held tightly against your chest. Your shoulders shuddered. Your chest felt like a thousand ice blades striking you at the same time. The clothing still smelled like him and yet, Taeyong was nowhere to be seen. He was consumed by the fireflies’ light and now there was no trace of him left.

I love you, you heard him said just a split second before he vanished. Faintly. Lovingly. Awaking every memory of the summers you’d spent together. That twig of oak bridging the distance between you. Those flowers you picked from the fields for him. That time when he ran to save you from falling. How lonely he’d looked from time to time. And how lonely you were when he wasn’t around. When Taeyong wasn’t there to spread happiness to your life.

And now he’s gone…

“Me too,” you sobbed as you held onto the piece of fabric he left from his final moment as if you were hanging on a thread that separated life from death. “I love you too.”

I love you so much, Taeyong.

And you let yourself cry, just this once, just for tonight. You would cry your heart out, screaming his name, telling him how much you loved him, just for this time only. Taeyong was the source of your happiness. Not even his death should change that.

When there were no more tears to cry, you got back to your feet and the first step felt so heavy. It was easier to just be drowned in silence, never have to get up again, never have to see the light of day now that his light had been taken away. But Taeyong wouldn’t wish for that to happen. He wanted you to be happy, with or without him.

So you picked his mask off the ground and embraced it tightly to your chest. There were murmurs of the Spirits around you, thanking you for being with Taeyong until the last moment of his life. They said Taeyong could only truly smile when he was with you.

Haechan appeared in front of you, wearing his previous white yukata with golden obi around his waist. His fox’s ears were down and his tails were no longer wagging behind him like always. His eyes were red and puffy, though he wasn’t crying.

“Taeyong-hyung wanted nothing more but to feel a touch of a human,” he said when you’d lost your voice to speak. “Being hugged by you before he vanished like that… I guess he wouldn’t have preferred anything else.”

You weakly smiled and reached up to stroke Haechan’s hair. The Fox boy seemed somewhat startled but didn’t move away. “He must have been happy,” you said, smiling with tears brimming in your eyes, “to have someone like you paying so much attention to him.”

Haechan brought his head down and you could hear soft sobs as he began to break down once again. He was biting his lip until it grew white, just to muffle his whimpers. You told him that it was all right for him to cry as hard as he could. After all, it was only normal. The pain of being left by someone you love… Taeyong must have understood it well.

I probably won’t be able to look forward to summer for a long time.

My chest will hurt. 

My tears will be overflowing. 

But this warmth in my hands and these summer memories will live forever in my heart. 

I wouldn’t ask for anything more.

You smiled, kissing the temple of the mask and whispered, “Until we meet on the next life, Taeyong.”

***

It takes bravery to show up at the gate of the forest in your sleeveless white summer dress and you can feel your knees trembling underneath your weight but your resolve doesn’t dissipate. It’s been one year since Taeyong has vanished without a trace. Your heart still bleeds, but your tears are dry. And although it kills you to know that Taeyong is no longer there, waiting on the stone stairs like usual, you keep your smile intact, taking a seat close enough to the spot where Taeyong used to sit waiting for you.

“I’m here this year too, Taeyong,” you whispers, one hand being placed on the stone steps as if it was out for him to touch. “How are you?”

A soft wind blows, caressing your now longer hair and swiping warmth to your cheek. Lonely. You feel so alone. The cicadas are singing loudly as always but they don’t sound the same without the sound of Taeyong’s soft chuckles. You can no longer share stories with him, can no longer try to close the forbidden gap between you little by little. There’s nobody you can show your uniform to.

Don’t cry, you will yourself, hugging your knees tightly to your chest. Don’t cry. Taeyong wouldn’t want you to cry. You said you could do this, remember?

But it still hurts.

So you quickly open your bag and retract his cat mask from it. Placing it upon your face, you bask in what’s left of Taeyong’s scent as you close your eyes. This way, even if you end up crying, no one will see. If Taeyong is still here, or if he somehow stares down from heaven, he won’t be able to see you breaking apart.

“If you want to cry, just cry,” a boy suddenly sits down next to you, your shoulders brushing one another. “Idiot.”

You look to your side, feeling your breath stutter a little. “Haechan-ah…”

The Fox boy turns his head to face you as well but unlike Taeyong who greeted you with a gentle smile, Haechan was scowling. He has an apparent frown on his handsome human face, but although he is glaring, his nine tails betray him as they wag in elation behind him. “What are you staring at?” he says and flicks you on the forehead. It doesn’t hurt since he’s only grazing the mask, but it does make you move your gaze away.

Haechan still looks as young as always. His golden hair is still shining reflecting the sunlight, his ruby eyes are shimmering, and his sun-kissed skin still glows beautifully.

“You’re wearing clothes,” you comment, noticing the casual white shirt and the blue jeans he has on his body. He’s not wearing anything to protect his feet though.

“Of course, as if I would give you the reason to ogle at my perfect body,” Haechan spits back harshly and you don’t answer anything back. Eventually, it creates tension between you so he runs a hand through his hair and mutters, “Well, I mean… Taeyong told me it made you uncomfortable, so…” You still stay mute but for an entirely different reason.

“Thanks,” you finally say, your voice sounds a bit muffled because of the mask.

Haechan feels his face growing hot and he grits his teeth to wash it away. “You’re being gross, stop it,” he raves and yet his tail sways faster behind him as his ears perk up in joy. You can finally understand why Taeyong was fond of him. Despite his snarky attitude, Haechan is shy and he’s never honest when it comes to showing his feelings, but his body often betrays him. He has his own charm.

So you laugh—softly, quietly, unfamiliar to your own ears, but it’s a start. “I’m sorry.”

Haechan huffs and fixes his red eyes to the sky. The clouds are moving, changing shapes and he secretly wonders what would Taeyong say at times like this. “I thought you wouldn’t come this summer,” he murmurs.

“I thought I wouldn’t too,” you admit. “But I realized in the end, even though he’s gone, it doesn’t mean he can’t still live in my memory. I think when someone dies; it doesn’t really mean that they’re gone. The difference is that we can’t physically see them anymore, so as time goes by, we begin to forget. And once we forgot about them, then I guess that’s when someone truly dies.” You take off your mask, turn it around on your palm and stare at the cat’s two-round, lifeless eyes. “I can’t see Taeyong anymore but I won’t let him disappear from my thoughts. He’s now living in my memory and I will keep it that way. He’s already a part of me now—of who I have become.” Your lips curve up as you rub your thumb along the cat’s whiskers. “I’m sorry for saying such weird things. I must have bored you by now.”

But unbeknownst to you, Haechan is staring at you with admiration in his eyes. He never knew you had such a complex personality. 

Even though she’s a human. Even though she’s just a human.

“You know, for Spirits like us,” Haechan says, “Humans have always been nothing better than something to eat. It’s not worth having a relationship with them. You can’t befriend someone who will pass away in a blink of an eye. Spirits like us can live for hundreds of years. And you, people like you, can barely even reach a hundred. Becoming attached to something so fragile will only hurt us, that’s why we try to never look at humans as someone to be friends with. Just like humans in general, we’re afraid of getting hurt.”

Your eyebrows are knitted together, can barely understand why is Haechan telling you these things.

“I saw Taeyong-Hyung when he was with you,” Haechan utters, and this time he smiles at the memory of his friend. He looks much younger like this. “He was happy. Perhaps happier than I’d ever seen him. That’s probably why I decided not to eat you.”

“You wanted to eat me?”

“A few times, yeah.”

“Even though you were so startled when Taeyong suddenly sneezed and almost ran for your life like a little scaredy-cat?”

“That’s—” Haechan blushes madly. “That’s different!”

You place a hand over your mouth, covering your small laughter. “Okay, okay,” you said and Haechan feels a tweak in his heart again. Humans are such fragile beings, he wonders, maybe that’s the reason why I want to protect her so badly?

He quickly shakes the thought away, blushing even deeper. Get a grip on yourself, you idiot!

“Well, Haechannie.” You stand up from the spot you’ve been sitting on, smoothening down your dress. “I’m supposed to head over to my uncle’s house now. I don’t want to make him worry.”

“Oh…” Haechan blinks, standing up as well. “Right, of course.”

You’re appalled at how taller he is now. Even when you’re standing up straight, you can only reach a little above his shoulder line. “Are you still growing?”

“Huh?” Haechan takes a look at himself. “Oh. Yeah, maybe.” And you want to comment on that but you’re distracted by the look of Haechan’s fox ears going down. “Are you…” he looks away, somewhat hiding his lips behind the back of his hand. His cheeks are burning redder by the second. “Are you going to come back here tomorrow?”

The wind is probably playing tricks to your ears, that’s why you’re hearing some weird stuff right now. “What?”

“Ah, damn it!” He groans, his blush now expanding to the tip of his ears. “I said, are you going to come back here tomorrow or not, you stupid monkey girl! Don’t make me say this thing twice, it’s freaking embarrassing!”

It takes another two seconds for you to process before you burst out laughing. He’s so childish; it’s somewhat adorable. “If you want me to, I will,” you reply, wiping small tears away from your eyes.

Although Haechan’s ears perk up instantly at your answer, he keeps muttering rudely, “Well, don’t expect me to wait here for you or anything, okay? Today is special but I won’t do it tomorrow.”

“Huh?” You nearly break out into laughter again. “You were waiting for me today?”

By this point, Haechan’s practically combusted into flames. “SHUT UP, YOU MONKEY GIRL!” In a split second, he transforms into his animal form, creating musky grey mist all around you, and he bites your nose before he scurries away. His golden tail still wags happily behind him as he runs off.

Rubbing your nose from the itching pain, you grin with your teeth shown and waves your hand goodbye. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Haechannie!”

“It’s Donghyuck!” His voice can be heard but he’s nowhere to be seen. “My real name is Donghyuck. You better memorize that!”

Donghyuck… Somehow, you could feel your heart warming in the way it hasn’t been for a year long. “Then, I’ll see you tomorrow, Donghyuck…”

Your summer is changing. The feeling is different though something hasn’t quite changed. You still miss Taeyong, terribly so. There will probably no way you can stop missing him. After all, they said first love lasts forever, right?

But I’m doing fine, Taeyong. There are still many things for me to do so I will move on, little by little. No matter how long it would take for me to be able to remember your name without hurting; to remember your smile without regretting not being able to kiss your lips longer; or to remember the days we spent together and not crying over them—I will heal. 

Time will no longer be our enemy. It will be the one to erase my pain.

I will heal.

***

Dear Taeyong,

I miss you.

I miss you a lot.

I miss you to the point of shedding my tears.

But I will not wish for you to come back.

After all you never truly left me, did you?

I remember everything.

I still remember everything.

Even if ten years have passed, even if twenty, even if a thousand years have gone by, as long as I’m still alive, I promise you until my dying breath that I will remember you.

You are still the beautiful reality in my sleep.

The blissful dream in my wake.

I am still here, in the place where we usually meet.

I am not waiting for you—I know you wouldn’t want that.

But I am here because of you. Because you remind me of summer. Of joy. Of faith. Of love. Of a bittersweet goodbye. 

Everything about you brings smiles to my face, even if our first embrace ended without time waiting for me to keep your warmth. Even if our kiss never left an aftertaste on my lips. 

It’s all right. It’s enough. 

No matter where you are now, Taeyong… Be happy.

I will meet you again in our next life.

Maybe by then, we can set our promise not by words, but by our fingers lacing together. 

And maybe by then, you can stroke my hair when I cry. 

And every time we part, I will let you take my farewell words from my lips. 

Take my breath, if you must. After all, they’re yours. Everything about me is yours.

I love you.

I love you so much.

I love you despite everything that separated us. Time, distance, age, even a single touch—Nothing can make me tired of loving you. I love you. I have never loved anyone else but you.

I am forever yours.

***

My Love,

I miss you too.

I miss you so much.

I miss you to the point of breaking apart.

And I’m glad you don’t wish for me to come back. 

I don’t think it would’ve done us any good.

I still remember you.

I will always remember you.

Even if I no longer have a body, even if not even my ashes remain, even if the fireflies decide to abandon me, I will remember you.

Listen to me, my dear.

Even if I had the chance to choose, I still wouldn’t change a thing. 

I’d prefer not to be able to touch you, to feel your warmth, or to taste your lips, 

rather than not be able to fall in love with you.

I’d rather be consumed with these feelings I have for you, 

rather than being burned by a passion that would be over after the summer end. 

This is all right. This is enough.

So no matter what happens next… Be happy.

For I do not wish for anything else.

I have no regrets. 

You have given me everything I’d asked for. 

You have given me more than I could ever imagine.

I have never desired anything until I met you. 

I am eternally grateful for our meeting. 

Even if we had to separate for nine months each year, I have enjoyed every little second that we spent, from sunrise to sunset even if it was only three months a year.

I will see you in our next life.

And by then, I will place a ring around the finger you lace with mine. 

And by then, I will kiss the tears away from your eyes.

And we will never part, but I will seal your lips with mine from saying those farewell words.

I love you too. I wouldn’t have understood love if it wasn’t for you. My whole life wouldn’t have meant something if it wasn’t for you.

Until we meet again, my love.

I am forever yours.

***

#nctsworldfwc #taeyong fluff #haechan fluff #nct imagines #nct scenarios #taeyong x reader #haechan x reader #taeyong imagines #haechan imagines #nct angst #nct fluff #nct fanfic #taeyong scenarios #haechan scenarios #nct timestamps #nct dream fluff #nct 127 fluff #nct 127 #nct dream #nct u #donghyuck fluff #mine #sundaysundaes #shamelessly recycling and rewriting one of my old works #because the story is just too beautiful i love this movie so much #i hope i managed to convey how beautiful it was in this fic but... idk man #i just really wish i didn't ruin it #especially with the scenes i added on my own #and there was no fox spirit in the movie BUT I CAN'T HELP IT GUYS I NEED FOX BOY!HYUCK IN MY LIFE #haechan is so tsundere in this fic lol

[darlingpetao3]

House of W (Multiple!Wells x Reader, Chapter 5)

Rating: T

Summary: After having to deal with the deaths of an infinite number of Harrison Wells in the Multiverse, you, a magic-wielding meta, have a breakdown and unwittingly create a happy, fictitious sitcom life with some of your favourite men. In a world of comedy and cameos, can Team Flash and an out-of-town magician break through your powers to save you? And what if you don’t want to be saved...?

Tag List: @fandomdancer @bluesclues-1234 @crissymadlock @firstofficer-tilly @disneyoncerlover815 @marvel-lady10 @thecaptainsgingersnap @noctvrnalmoth @alexxlynn @dontbedumb3 @heyl0lwhatsup @ryou-cosmos @arianalilyblack @sonnensplitter @imagine-yourself-happy @stuckysdaughter​

PROLOGUE | CHAPTER 1 | CHAPTER 2 | CHAPTER 3 | CHAPTER 4

“Honeyyyyyyys…?” you call out in the house. Naturally, four handsome men come running.

“What’s happening?” Nash, in his jean shorts and Hawaiian themed shirt, asks you urgently.

“What’s happening is I am the worst mother ever!” you yell. Cue four sweet and simultaneous denials of your belief. “But I am—I can’t find the twins!”

How can someone lose two tiny babies? You had only looked away for thirty seconds and poof—Liberty and Belle were gone! They couldn’t even so much as crawl yet!

“Everyone, spread out,” a suspenders-wearing H.R. conducts the family, “they can’t have gone far.”

Harry moves closer to you to rub your back with small circles. “It’s going to be okay. You’re a wonderful mother. We just have a couple of troublemakers on our hands, it seems.”

You give a slight nod and begin to scour every place you haven’t already checked in the house. Everything is going to be fine, everything is going to be fine…

A pair of foreign giggles come from the closet by the alcove. How strange. You follow the sounds, and sometimes you’ll hear a “Shhhhh!” followed by more snickering. When you open the door to the closet, you’re entirely shocked to find two little girls who look to be five years old—one in overalls and the other in a dress.

“Libby, Libby, Libby! I told you to be quiet!” Belle scolds her sister.

“But your hair was tickling my face!” Liberty tries to explain.

Meanwhile, you’re still stunned to see your babies have grown in such a short amount of time. It really should be such a surprise considering the shortness of the pregnancy, but still!

You try to find your voice by beckoning your husbands. “I-I found them!”

“Hi, mommyyyyy,” they say in such adorable unison. Their perfect little faces look up at you and you feel like you’re staring into a mirror-time-portal. You crouch down and open your arms.

“I was so worried,” you tell the girls. “I thought I’d lost you.”

Sherloque, H.R., Harry, and Nash soon appear behind you and gawk at their rapidly aged daughters.

“How are they five?” H.R. whispers his question to no one and anyone.

“A very good question…” Sherloque, in his white trousers and blazers with a sharp purple shirt underneath, strokes his chin.

You wipe a tear from your eye and clear your throat. “Why don’t you two hooligans help your Pops with something in the garage?”

“You got it, dude!” Belle shoots you adorable finger guns before grabbing her sister’s and Nash’s hand. And then, in a flash, they’re gone. Indeed so quick that your voluminous hair flies every which way—books and papers suddenly strewn all over the house.

“Did Belle just…?” Harry starts to ask but falters.

“Run Mach one in my house? Yeah, I think she did…” you reply, figuratively and almost literally blown away. “Oh!”

H.R. holds your hand in comfort at the sound of your weepy noise. “What is it, Honey Bear?”

“I can’t believe it. I missed their first steps, their first words. So many firsts. They’re five!”

“There will be plenty more firsts that we won’t miss,” Harry soothes, “together.”

“If ma Belle ‘as the ability to run vitement,” Sherloque wonders to the rest of you, “what does this mean pour ma Liberté?”

This makes you think—remember things that you’d rather not remember. But, what if…?

You take quick strides towards the garage through the kitchen, your remaining husbands following closely behind. Peering out the window, you spot Liberty using her glowing purple hands to float a socket wrench over to Nash from his toolbox. His eyes are wide, but happily so, at the magic presented by his daughter.

“Little chips off the old block, aren’t they?” H.R. notes, putting an arm around your shoulders and Harry’s (the latter picks up and drops his doppelganger’s arm off of him).

“Yes, I suppose they are.” You sigh in contentment. “What do you three say to a little quiet time on the couch?”

The men don’t even need to voice their approval of the idea, only follow you devotedly out of the kitchen. Sherloque pulls up the rear but stops short at the refrigerator. The appliance is strangely already covered in artwork, with barely any free space available on the appliance. And then… there’s something else that sticks out amongst the vibrantly coloured scribbles.

He leans in a little closer to inspect a piece of paper. Sherloque notes the hurried scrawl of the letters:

You’re on a TV show. This isn’t real. We’re trying to help you.

The puzzled detective continues to analyze the strange message. What does this mean? he wonders.

He tries his best to remember what his life was like before he married you. What was life like? It takes every ounce of brainpower to attempt the recollection, but Sherloque unfortunately comes up short with answers.

Something he is both not known for and hates.

He checks around the room to see if anyone is watching him, but no one is in sight. Regardless of his lack of findings, he waves in the direction of one of the kitchen walls as if someone was watching. Sherloque then marches into the living room where you’re snuggled up with Harry and H.R.

“What is this?” he demands of you, flashing the note in front of your face. You, of course, have no idea and voice as such.

Harry snatches the piece of paper and proceeds to study it. “This is a joke, right?”

“I think someone must be playing a prank on you, my love,” you tell your suspicious French husband.

“And I think you are lying to us, ma petite,” he replies. Sherloque turns his attention to the other men on the couch. “Dites-moi, what is your earliest memory?”

Harry and H.R.’s foreheads scrunch in thought.

“The first thing I ever remember is showing up here for dinner a few nights ago,” H.R. says slowly. “But it feels much quicker than only a couple of nights…”

“And you, (Y/N),” Harry adds, “I feel like I’ve known you my entire life, and yet my first memory was the same as this jackwagon.”

“Aww, Harry, I feel like I’ve known you my entire life too,” you say sweetly. “All of you!”

Sherloque squints at you. “Stop that. You are hiding something. Eet is the way you swallow with difficulty and perspire. Aussi the tapping of your foot.”

“I am not hiding any-”

“-You lie!” Sherloque raises his voice. H.R. and Harry stand up from the couch and face you with crossed arms, pulling his blue plaid shirt tighter against his chest.

“Is it true?” H.R. asks you, looking ever so much like a puppy dog. It pains you to see him look so hurt. They both seem to take Sherloque’s word for it. And over yours?

“Is any of this real?” Harry finishes his opposite-self’s question, then points in the direction of the garage. “Are they real?”

“Of course our daughters are real!” you find yourself shouting at the notion otherwise. “They’re parts of us!”

“Then what have you done to our memories? You’re keeping secrets!”

At this point, Nash enters the room with Liberty and Belle, clearly not expecting an argument from their idyllic family unit. His hands on their shoulders. They must have heard the fighting…

“Listen,” you try calmly, “I did this for us. You don’t want to know what happened before our lives together here. You just don’t.”

“You do not get to choose for us,” Sherloque counters sternly.

The tension can be cut with a knife, and the proverbial knife that does the cutting comes in the form of a sound—the doorbell.

“Who is that, (Y/N)?” Harry asks you.

“I don’t know. That’s not me, I swear it,” you tell him, very much confused yourself. Each of your husbands stands with their arms still crossed, waiting. It hurts you to see them so upset with you. This was supposed to be perfect. This was supposed to be easy.

Your feet that feel like lead somehow manage to carry you over to the door. Twisting the doorknob, you open the door to reveal another extremely familiar face…

“How’s it hangin’, Miss (Y/L/N).”

What? No… It can’t be him?

Looking the epitome of cool—dressed in stone washed jeans, a yellow button-down shirt with a black leather jacket thrown over top—stands the man you never thought you’d see again. Especially in your own safe little world.

Eobard Thawne.

The man walks right in the house like he owns the place with an incredible amount of swagger.

“So, what’s a guy gotta do to get a drink around here?”

#reader insert #harrison wells x reader #harrison wells imgaine #harrison wells fanfiction #harry wells x reader #harry wells imagine #nash wells x reader #nash wells imagine #sherloque wells x reader #sherloque wells imagine #hr wells x reader #hr wells imagine #the flash imagine #the flash fanfiction

[amphxtrite]

fred weasley x fem!reader

This is for @feetoffthetable ‘s 500 follower writing challenge. Congratulations again on 500!!

hope you like it.

prompts:

“What happened to their happily ever after?”

“Not all love stories get a happily ever after, sometimes it’s just once upon a time.”

warnings: angst, spelling/ grammar mistakes.

word count: 3.1k

tag list: @cupidpoison @marvelhoesworld @wonderful-writer

enjoy<3

__________________________________________

Almost every girl can remember the days where they’d dream of their fairytale romance. Dancing, a prince charming and a kiss in the moonlight as every problem faded away; A thrilling fight between the lovers and the evil villain ending with the two wrapped in each other’s arms. Despite being muggle tales, the wizarding world had also grown to adore these stories, smiles widening on even grown witches' faces with each ‘once upon a time.’

You’d grown up reading about maidens being swept off their feet into the arms of their knight in shining armor, fate seemed to encompass every story you laid your eyes on, so when Fred Weasley entered your life, with a charming smile and a playfulness that had you wanting more, you couldn’t help but fall.

And so began the pining. Stares across the classroom at the wave of red hair, crossing your fingers when group projects were announced, peeking down corridors to see if you could catch the prankster twins in action, and daydreaming from dawn till dusk. You could barely get words past your lips if he ever smiled in your direction. You found yourself wondering what it would feel like to run your hand through his hair. Doodling his name on parchment became common, and dreams of dancing with him plagued your mind. You were young, and in love. You could almost feel your fairy godmother pushing you towards him, fairy tale magic coursing through your veins whenever your eyes would meet.

It took a couple years, but you found your voice. Starting small with congratulations after quidditch games, an occasional joke during classes, a couple more smiles here and there.

The unrequited love, became returned. Fred Weasley thought you were just the shy girl from his transfiguration class, quiet and meek. When you built up the confidence to strike up conversations and joke about Snape’s hair, he found himself hanging onto your every word.

The older twin went from not knowing your name to looking forward to even his most boring classes just to catch a glimpse of your face. Making you smile became his mission, and Godric did he love it when your face would completely light up. Not just a small smirk, but when your eyes sparkle, your lips pull up far enough to see your teeth and your cheeks go a bit pink, that was most definitely his favourite sight.

Even the most enchanting storybook couples would stare amazed at the adoration Fred Weasley and Y/n L/n shared for each other. Two best friends pining for the other without realizing the mutual warmth that had grown. Spending countless hours together, hiding their flushed cheeks, sweaty palms and loving eyes to enjoy every moment spent together.

When the Yule ball was announced Fred had fallen flat on his face running up to ask you. He’d spotted you in the clock tower courtyard with one of your friends and he knew immediately, you were the only person he’d want to go with. He sprinted up to you intending to drop to his knee and ask, but his foot got caught in the stone and he fell for you the second time. Now any other person may have lost hope and ran away, but Fred Weasley was determined to make the most of it, rebounding it with a cheesy pick up line, In true Fred fashion.

Cinderella would’ve glared in jealousy when the two of you waltzed across the dance floor. Not only was the night magical, but it was awkward, nervous, and fun. It didn’t seem like the far fetched dance at the end of a film, it felt real. You’d step on his toes and he’d shuffle his hand around your waist, but when it came down to it, you didn’t care. You really did feel like a princess dancing in the arms of her lover, swaying to the beautiful music as other students starred in awe at the two gryffindors gliding around the room, laughing happily while moving their feet in a mesmerizing waltz.

That night Fred Weasley finally asked you to be his girlfriend, he got down on his knee in the middle of the dance floor, pouring his heart out to you, his confession wiping even the soliloquies of Romeo Montague out of the water.

“Y/n, from the moment you started to talk to me in our third year, I fell. You make me smile, laugh, blush and always know how to cheer me up. Honestly, why didn’t you start talking to me sooner? I never knew how much I needed you, but my eyes have been cleared, my feelings in tune and now I’m asking you on the dance floor to maybe take this foolish man to be your prince?”

Droplets emerged from your eyes as you shook your head up and down, happy tears flowing free as you pulled the red-head up again.

The entire student body had paused to take in the scene before them, watching in surprise as Fred Weasley stood to his feet to dip the girl with tear stained cheeks into a low kiss, only standing again to catch his breath before stealing you away out the door.

You’d give anything to go back to that night. The seed of young adoration finally blossoming into a flower of love. Love so true, beautiful and pure you’d probably blind anyone who saw. You ran through the halls to Black Lake, dancing to the beats of your hearts in the embrace of your love, swaying in the moonlight as puzzle pieces of your life finally seemed to fall into place and stars aligned.

Holding your love in your arms is a feeling so surreal and fantastic, something that has an addicting property that you couldn’t help but crave. When Fred’s arms surrounded you, you didn’t feel trapped, enclosed, barricaded. You felt free, as though you could fly.

It is hard to define love, but what was between the redhead prankster and gryffindor dreamer painted a clear picture for anyone to see. Love opens the best in us, it reveals pieces of us never seen before and unlocks emotions never known. Fred grew more in love with you with each passing day and his desire to see the smile upon your face never faded.

Your love for your prince charming was something that would never be taken away from you. Everyday took your breath away and every time Fred smiled at you, your brain seemed to turn to mush, the childhood pining never seemed to leave.

Your last year at Hogwarts brought about some problems, with the monstrous pink toad and Fred’s tendencies for trouble, you could say difficulties were inevitable. Nights where Fred snuck into your dorm broken down, tired, and ready to collapse became frequent, especially after he was banned from the quidditch team. Fred was hesitant to reveal his sensitivity, but with cuts across his hands and the loss of his favourite activity, he was willing to lose it all just to rest in your arms again. Many nights he’d run to you, exhausted and restless. You’d hold him close, soothe him the best you could and heal his wounds to the best of your abilities. You didn’t know what to say, but you didn’t need to talk. Fred was content laying on your chest as you fussed over him, pressing kisses across his freckled face and mumbling rather choice words under your breath about the pink devil as you gently caressed his injured hand as light as a butterfly.

You were the first person he’d told his scheme to leave Hogwarts to, begging you to go with him and start a new life in a place he’d dreamt of since he was a child. He honestly wasn’t expecting you to agree, but how could you not? It’s not like you had much planned. Anyways, you were tired of the pain Fred had to endure during the past year, so if he was ready to leave, so were you.

You’d compare flying a broom into the sky as fireworks flashed behind you, to riding into the sunset on the back of a stallion, but yours was so much cooler. Fred had grabbed you from the floor and pulled you onto his broom, you clutched onto him for dear life as he and George flew their last victory lap and destroyed every last horrid plaque of rules that hung on the walls of the school of magic. Another feeling of freedom was evident throughout the entire building as victorious cheers sound from every window.

This was definitely better than a ride into the sunset.

Life with the twins in Weasleys’ Wizards Wheezes couldn’t be defined by just one word. It was exciting, chaotic and the most fun you’ve had in your life. Designing product boxes and using charms was more of your strong suit while the boys caused explosion after explosion, perfecting their concoctions. As weeks turned into months, you and Fred felt as though you were really living a couple’s life. Waking up wrapped in each other’s arm without the worry of being caught, making and eating breakfast to tunes on the radio, dancing to a record player as day bled into night and your feet finally got sore.

This is how fairy tale characters must feel after their story ends, you’d think every day, happy and so deeply in love, relishing every moment together and at peace.

You’d finally been introduced to Mrs. Weasley that coming Christmas, her tender love really made you feel welcome and almost moved you to tears.

“It’s nice to see Freddie finally found someone who loves him as much as you do, I can see it in your eyes darling, you’re perfect for him.”

Fred never understood why they said ‘fall’ in love, sure you may feel your senses fade at times but it was never like a fall. If it made sense he’d say he rose into love for you. You brought him to cloud nine, you raised his spirits whenever you joked with him when he was down. You raised the corners of his lips into a smile by just existing. You raised him further towards his dreams and supported him no matter what. Ironically, he dropped to his knee to propose to you, just like he had in your sixth year at the Yule Ball, once again pouring his heart out to you, this time to truly make you his.

“Here we are again, love.” He laughed as he fell to his knee behind you in a muggle park not too far from Diagon Alley.

“Darling, I love you. I love you so much and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. You push me towards my dreams, comfort me when I’m upset, and make me smile every single day. I realized how much I needed you back in our sixth year, but today I ask you to seal the deal and become, y/n Weasley?”

It is hard to define love, so many forms of it, so many ways to express it and spread it to the people around you, but when Fred Weasley proposed to you, people looked over and felt the unconditional love between two people that brought tears to their eyes. When Fred Weasley looked at you, you were his everything. His past, present and future, his calm during a storm, his brightest star.

When Y/n said yes, you could hear the love of the purest of heart. The love of a best friend and a partner.

Love opens the best in us, it reveals pieces of us never seen before and unlocks emotions never known. Fred could now ensure a smile on your face for the rest of your days, and the childhood pining could finally rest knowing you would be with this man forever.

When the war finally pulled the wizarding world into the dark, the prankster and the dreamer knew they wouldn’t be able to stand to the side. They needed to help bring back the peace, and they would fight beside the people they cared about. The wedding was postponed until further notice, but it was sworn on a pinky promise that as soon as the chaos was over, you’d pick up where you left off and walk down the aisle in your white dress.

As you stood on the Hogwarts school ground, death eaters on every side and Voldemort cackling maniacally, you reached out for your prince’s hand. Closing your eyes to regain your calm before you had to charge into the incoming fight. Fred had squeezed your hand before pressing his lips to yours in the most passionate kiss the two of you had ever shared.

Looking back, you should’ve held Fred there with you, by your side throughout the entire fight. You should have kept your hands interlocked, standing tall by each other’s side, an unbreakable force to be reckoned with.

Instead the two of you charged forward separated, fighting close, but by your friends’ sides, throwing spell after spell to inch closer to a brighter future. Pain didn’t matter, each wave of your wand could be a step closer to a happy tomorrow.

It was almost thrilling fighting by your classmate, protecting them brought a new sense of purpose to your being and drowned out everything else to focus on the task at hand. Things were turning your way, Neville slayed that dreaded snake, Harry returned, Voldemort would never win now right? Everything would turn out fine. Right?

How wrong you were.

Victory was within reach, death eaters were filtering into smaller numbers and your friends were still alive. Your head was swivelling for your love, the only thought on your mind being to find your prince, your knight, the love of your life. The flash of red hair was just ahead, the light at the end of the tunnel was right there. You called out his name and his head whipped to meet yours. Your eyes met and you could see your future, your wedding, a family, growing old with this man.

Then the rubble fell, and in a flash, everything was taken away from you.

It is hard to define love, but when witches and wizards heard the shrill cry of a heart being torn in half, they could feel the love y/n l/n held for Fred Weasley. The pure, unconditional love that would’ve withstanded the test of time and any problem life could throw her way. The love that had so much hope many people turned away, it was too much to bear. The love that had you digging even though your hands were scabbed and bleeding.

Now when you ask how Fred Weasley showed his love in this scenario, the only thing to say was he died with a smile on his face. He died knowing his last sight was the love of his life running towards him, ready to turn to the next chapter of their lives.

You dug through the rock frantically, grasping onto the hope that for some divine reason Fred could be alive.

This isn’t how the story is supposed to end, your prince was supposed to wrap you into your arms and every problem was supposed to melt away, you were supposed to marry, kiss in front of all your family and friends and live the rest of your days together.

Realization hit you like a speeding train, you were never going to walk down the aisle to see Fred’s reaction to you in a white dress, you were never going to hold your child in your arms and see Fred become the amazing father you knew he would become. You were never going to see him grey and old, still a prankster and still deeply in love. You were never going to feel his lips against yours ever again. Hear his whispers in your ear about how much he loved you, or his melodic laugh that brought butterflies to your stomach every time.

Turns out, the villain of your story wasn’t unrequited love, it wasn’t Umbridge or even Voldemort. It was something even more cruel and insufferable. Death is not something humans really understand, even the most powerful witches and wizards cannot deny that death will come upon you, it is inevitable. There is so much about death we do not understand. All we know is one minute they’re here, the next they’re gone. But you might say, this is a fairy tale, there’s bound to be a happy solution and our lovers will get their happy ending. No, this is reality and our lovers were not that lucky, and the loss of half a heart is not something to be taken lightly.

“No.”

When Fred’s body was retrieved, you were joined by the rest of the Weasley family in their grieving, and while you could never understand what it would be like to lose a brother and a son, you’d lost the man you were going to spend the rest of your days with, and that left a hole in your heart never to be repaired, never to heal.

To lose a lover, but to hold their lifeless body in your arms is a surreal feeling you wouldn’t wish on your worst enemy, it’s something that has the power to break even the strongest people and make the most positive lose hope. Every ounce of love in your being spilt through tears that held every wish and hope you’ve ever had. That day you lost your feeling of freedom, and a sick sense of being trapped plagued your every move.

This isn’t how the story was supposed to end.

“What happened to their ‘happily ever after?” A young girl asks her father.

“Well young y/n, as you may know you were named after the very girl who fell in love with my brother and lost everything. Some say she died of a broken heart, others say Freddie came back and took her away to paradise.” An older George Weasley smiles down at his young daughter, snuggled in blankets, clutching a picture frame in her small hands.

“But why couldn’t uncle Fred come back? I thought every fairy tale ends with a happily ever after, those were aunt y/n’s favourite stories right?” Young y/n’s brown eyes flash in confusion and hurt as she lowers the photo of you to her lap.

“Yes, they were her favourite. There was no doubt her and Fred had a love greater than any fairy tale, but not all love stories get a ‘happily ever after.’ Sometimes it’s just a ‘once upon a time.”

#fred weasley #fred weasley imagine #fred weasly x reader #fred weasley angst #fred weasley x gryffindor!reader #fred weasley x you #fred weasley x y/n #harry potter imagine #weasley twins #angst #weasley family #once upon a time #fairy tales #fred weasley fic #fred weasley fanfiction #writing challenge

[certifiedskywalker]

Your Gentle Touch - Dyn Jarren (The Mandalorian)

books-with-tea-with-a-record-on said:

Sorry if request aren't open but if they are may I have one with The Mandalorian with a s/o whos not a fighter but a healer/nurse and she's very sweet and motherly and one day he sees her with baby yoda and is like "crap I love her". And one day they get ambushed and he tells her to go hide but she sees baby yoda in danger and risk her life for him and gets injured and after the fight, he runs over to her and helps her up and confess how he loves her and never been so scared before.

Dyn is forgetting his old ways but, with clear eyes, he finds something he didn’t know that he was missing out on.

Dyn Jarren was not a true-born Mandalorian despite living the earliest days of his young life within the Mandalore system. He had lived on the outskirts, on a planet tuck behind an atmosphere of Imperial pollution and asteroids. Once the Trade Federation brought the war to his home, Dyn fell into the Mandalorian’s arms. They took him in without hesitation. They raised him; they trained him; they even tried to teach him their native tongue, Mando’a. While most of the intricate sounds and words of the language were lost to him, Dyn was pleased to have been taught.

Above all, the Mandalorians gave Dyn a semblance of belonging to something greater when he had virtually nothing. 

As grateful as he was to the Mandalorians for giving him shelter, Dyn had found something better. He had found a family. Family was something he thought he had lost, something that he could never truly build for himself. The last time he had a family, they died. His mother and father had been cannon fodder towards the war. His parents, his innocence, had been an easy price to pay for cruelty; but, now, looking at the sight before him, Dyn Jarren was pleased he wasn’t a full-blooded Mandalorian.

If he had been born into their warrior culture, Dyn imagined that he would have never found this his new family. That thought alone was enough to make the bounty hunter shudder.

“Not all at once! Take little bites!”

Dyn cocked his head to the side as you instructed the Child. His small green hands were wrapped tightly around the hunk of ration bread you had given him. Part of the portion was already in his small mouth. Happily, the Child gurgled and bits of bread flew from its lips. Dyn heard your laugh, in all of its pure lightness, and smiled from beneath his helmet.

“You might choke,” you managed to get out through giggles. 

The Child, seemingly unaware at the possibility, proceeded to swallow the rest of the ration bread. The creature swallowed, a horribly loud sound, and let out a little belch. 

“Feel better?” Dyn felt his chest ache at the teasing in your voice and he wasn’t the one you were talking to. The Child gurgled and you, with more grace than Dyn had ever seen in his entire lifetime, scooped the creature up in your arms. “I bet you do!”

Dyn watched as you made your way towards him. There was a tender smile on your lips that made that ache in his chest return. The dull pain grew worse when you looked up from the Child and met Dyn’s gaze. In your eyes, the bounty hunter saw everything he ever wanted.

“I don’t think we need a trash compactor with this one around,” you joked. Your path had landed you standing right in front of Dyn. Even through the beskar, he could feel your warmth.

“Good to know,” Dyn said softly, almost as if the words were a passing thought. In reality, that was exactly what they were. He was so completely enraptured by you in that moment that everything, including his own body, ceased to exist. 

“We could save on some credits with him,” you continued, “but they might go into feeding costs.” The Child chirped and you smiled, turning your gaze back to the green being cradled in your arms. “He likes the sound of that.”

A stint of silence passed with Dyn watching you watch the Child. The tender slope of your cheeks pulled him in. He had to force his hand to be still; he kept his arm at his side despite wanting to reach out to you. It was then when you looked up at him. It was then when you both realized how close you were to each other. 

You cleared your throat and took a step back. “He seems healthy; no wounds or bruises. You did a good job getting him out of there.”

Dyn nodded silently, still too caught up in your presence to speak up. He watched you place the Child in the seat he had made while you were checking on the creature’s vitals. It was an ugly thing; the cradle was made of a few boxes and sheets of metal he had bent into shape. The structure would do for now and, for the most part, the Child was safe.

“There we go,” you pet the Child’s head soothingly. “Get some rest. You’ve had a long day.”

The Child, trying to speak in its own language of chitters and chirps, made a series of sounds. Dyn watched as you smiled down at the creature before turning away. The Child’s big, dark eyes followed you as you walked back over towards Dyn. 

“You too,” you said as you stood before the bounty hunter. Dyn shifted trying to not lean in close as he had before.

“What?”

“You’ve had a long day too.” Your hands lifted to Dyn’s shoulders and you pressed down on the plates of beskar fastened there. “Now it’s your turn.”

“I’m fine,” Dyn began to protest. It was a feeble, half-hearted attempt to stop you; and when you continued to push Dyn into the nearby chair, he didn’t fight back. You were right, after all. It had been a long day and there wasn’t enough strength left in him to combat his longing.

Once he was seated, you wandered back to the cot where you had checked on the Child’s life signatures. Dyn watched as you gathered your medical supplies. When you had all the bacta patches you could carry, you started to make your way back to him. Quietly, you set to work sorting your tools and preparing gauze. After you spread out a large section of heavy fabric, you turned back to Dyn.

A silent question, a question Dyn had heard you ask before, was balanced on your lips. Knowing well what it was, Dyn began to unfasten pieces of his armor. Even within the context of a medical check-up, removing the beskar was an intimate process. Carefully, you would take each portion of armor and set it on top of the heavy fabric you had laid out. The process continued as Dyn removed more and more hunks of metal from his body.

Dyn felt truly exposed. He was left in only his clothing and his helmet, the latter of which he never took off. At least, he never took his helmet off in front of you. No, that would be too much. That would be crossing a line carved in stone; a step that Dyn could not come back from.

To distract himself from the temptation, Dyn watched you as you pulled a seat up for yourself. You were now sitting at his side, careful hands already reaching for his arm. When you hands gripped loosely at his wrist and elbow, Dyn fought the urge to melt under your fingers.

“You fell on this side, right?”

“Y-Yeah.” Dyn had hoped his reply would come out steady. Instead, much like his heart, his voice faltered with you so close in proximity. 

“Your arm feels fine,” you gave Dyn’s arm a slight squeeze. “That hurt?”

“No.”

Dyn watched you carefully as you set his arm down to his lap. Each touch was tender, laced with a softness that he had never felt outside of your presence. Nothing had ever felt so comforting to him before. When he met you, when he offered you a spot on the Razor Crest, it was like a new world had been opened to him. A world outside of the Mandalorians training and cold shoulders of the bounty hunting realm.

“May I?” 

Your question broke Dyn from his thoughts. His eyes focused on your face than your hand which hovered above his abdomen. Heat emanated from your open palm, warming the flesh of his side even under the shirt. It was as if some unseen force was melding you both to each other; though that wasn’t rational and Dyn blamed his lack of sleep.

He nodded wordlessly and your fingers hooked under the hem of his shirt. Your gentle touch, the barely-there brushing of your fingertips stirred something up in Dyn’s chest. It wasn’t ache from before; no, this was something entirely different.

“It looks like,” you lifted Dyn’s shirt a little higher, “that when you fell...the beskar bruised your side.”

“So much for protection,” Dyn muttered. As he spoke, your hand splayed across his stomach and Dyn had to keep his breath from hitching. Your palm was warm against his skin, soothing in a way his brain failed to comprehend. 

“You’re not dead,” you said as you pulled away. “I would rather have you bruised than not have you at all.”

Dyn cocked his head as you lifted yours to meet his gaze. That feeling returned in his chest; that feeling he could not describe. There was not a word in the common language that could label the tickling in his chest and the twisting in his gut. Almost like an echo, a word in Mando’a resounded in his mind: chaab.

Chaab, fear.

“Here’s a cooling bacta for that.” You raised Dyn’s shirt once more and pressed the cold patch against his skin. He watched you work, watched every little movement of your fingers as they hovered above his skin. 

Yes, it was chaab. He was feeling fear and it’s tightening grip on his body. Dyn let out a shaking breath as the cold bacta soaked into his skin; at least that was what he blamed it on. He knew it was fear...but what was he afraid of?

“Just rest now,” you sighed. You stood up and wiped your hands on your pants. Dyn’s eyes never left your face. He was still trying to figure it out. Dyn wasn’t scared of you.

“Thank you,” he murmured, the helmet altering his voice in such a way that hid his confusion. You smiled at him and reached to squeeze his shoulder.

“Wouldn’t want you to disappear, would we?” 

The feeling returned with a new vengeance. That was what he was afraid of and that was a world without you.

“Well, look who’s callin’ the shots now, Mando!” Toro’s threat fell on deaf ears. All Dyn was focused on was the Child caught in Toro’s arms and you, kneeling on the ground before him. Your cheek was red and swollen, the beginning of a bruise blooming on the side of your face. On pure instinct, Dyn curled his gloved hands into fists. 

“Let them go.” Dyn’s voice was steady, much to his own surprise.

“Do you know how much is on your head? I could fund my membership into the Guild and then some!” Toro pointed the blaster in his hand to the Child’s head. Dyn’s heart lurched in his chest and, as he found himself stepping towards them, he saw you. At first, it was a blur. Dyn saw your face then your hair, then a blast.

“Y/N!”

You crumpled to the ground, unmoving and all Dyn felt was that twisting in his gut, how it mingled with a dizzying lightness in his chest. Fear had planted itself firmly in Dyn’s heart when he watched you hit the ground. Everything after that was pure anger. 

Dyn didn’t feel himself throw the phaser. The blinding, blinking light did little to hinder his movement. He strode through the light, guided by his instinct and his yearning to find you, to save you; to protect you. But he saw Toro as the younger man regained his vision. Without hesitation, Dyn raised his blaster, aimed at his chest, and fired.

Then, Dyn found you. Smoke, in a small plume, rose up from your chest. Dyn fell to his knees, seemingly not seeing Peli, the engineer working on the Razor Crest, holding the Child in her arms. His sole focus was you; it had been since he met you.

“Y/N.” Carefully, Dyn reached out for your shoulder and turned you on your back. Your body was mostly limp but still warm as your arm fell into his lap. Toro’s blaster bolt had shot through your right shoulder, dangerously close to your neck. “Y/N?”

Your eyes were pressed closed and the rest of your face horribly relaxed, too peaceful for his liking. Fear told Dyn that it was too late for you but some primal part of him, a hopeless ache in his heart, drove him to try. He reached for a pouch attached to his belt and pulled out what medical supplies he had on him. It wasn’t a lot and he was not trained in the art of healing as you were but Dyn tried. He lifted you up, cradled you in his lap and pressed a bacta patch to your wound. 

“Y/N...” 

Peli had never met a Mandalorian before. She had only heard that they were fearsome warriors, Hell-bent on killing whatever stands in their way. Peli would have never guessed that Mandalorians were capable of such softness as the one before her now. The way he said your name made Peli hurt; the Child seemed to sense that too and let out a whimper.

“Y/N, I need you.” 

His voice was trembling as he spoke. Chaab, fear, it gripped Dyn so tightly it was squeezing the air from his lungs. His family was slipping through his fingertips. Dyn did not want to be alone again, he couldn’t. Not after he had a taste of what family could be.

Dyn lifted a hand, trying to be as gentle as you were with him, and traced the side of your face. He began to shift, preparing himself to a new harsh reality that entailed leaving you behind. As he moved, your arm lifted. Weakly, your fingers wrapped around Dyn’s wrist and held his hand to your cheek. 

“You need me? Never thought you would admit that.” Despite your teasing, your words came out hoarse. When you fell, the wind had been knocked out of you and your following breaths were incredibly shallow. Dyn tenderly brushed his thumb along your cheek, the on side of your face that wasn’t bruised and battered. Although the sight of your wounds renewed the sense of rage buried in his chest.

“Yeah,” his voice broke but he was too overwhelmed to care.

“Where is he?”

“Dead.” At Dyn’s reply, your eyes widened. “Toro, the Child is fine.”

“Thank the Maker,” you sighed. Wordlessly, Dyn tucked one of his arms under your legs and the other beneath your neck. He scooped you up in his embrace and turned to face Peli. The moment you saw the Child, it was like you had found a second wind. “There you are.”

The Child cooed at the sight of you, reaching out from Peli’s arms and toward your face. The fizzy haired engineer smiled and gingerly set the green creature on your lap. Dyn, whose blood was still pumping wildly, did not flinch at the added weight. If anything, he felt stronger with his new, little family in his arms.

“You take them inside,” Peli began, “pay me later.”

“Thank you,” Dyn said quietly before walking up the ramp and into the Razor Crest. 

With each step, the anger left him and he was suddenly tired. Shock and adrenaline were wearing off, leaving Dyn with you in his arms. He would have held you longer if it weren’t for the discomfort spread along your features. Carefully, he set you on top of a storage box. The Child gurgled excitedly with the motion and wiggled in your lap.

When you were sat and steady, Dyn kneeled down in front of you. Still giddy, the Child reached out and slapped his small hands against his helmet. Dyn watched as you pulled the Child back in a restraining manner. Yet, you never scolded the creature. 

“We should give Peli more than we owe,” you said seriously, looking into the eyes of Dyn’s helmet. He nodded in agreement, bringing up on of his hands to rest on your knee.

“I will, but you need to tell me what to do.”

“What to do?” Your brows furrowed in confusion and you shook your head. “I’ll be alright, Dyn. It just needs time to heal.”

“I….” 

Dyn trailed off, lost in his tangled thoughts. There was too much he wanted to say, too much he needed to tell you. He wanted to speak but the feeling of wetness, tears falling from his eyes, drove him into silence. It was only when you set your hand on top of his that he found a grip in reality for himself.

“What is it?”

Dyn let out a shaking breath, “I was scared….I thought I lost you.”

The words were as unfamiliar to him as the feeling of dread. In his time with the Mandalorians, Dyn had grown around a code that barred the intimacy his words implied. He had taken the title of bounty hunter, as gunslinger, and worn both with pride. Now, he was a mess. His composure, his mask, was failing him and it was all because of you.

“You didn’t,” you whispered, your hand moving to the side of his helmet. “I’m still here. I’m still with you. Bruised, but not dead.”

“Bruised, but not dead,” Dyn echoed. You gave him a half-smile and he felt his chaab melt-away. He would not be scared anymore.

Slowly, he lifted his hands from below his helmet. Your eyes widened and you lips parted, ready to protest. But there was no stopping Dyn when he set his mind to something. Even when that something was blasphemous to others. Before your words could find purchase on your tongue, Dyn’s helmet was on the ground.

There was no hiding, not anymore. He wanted you to see him. He didn’t want fear to control him any longer; Mandalorian customs be damned. You were his family and he needed you to know that he was there for you.

Dyn didn’t care that showing you meant you seeing his red-rimmed eyes or his tear-stained cheeks. You didn’t care either. Instead, you reached and let your trembling hand rest against his cheek. You took in the sight of his messy, dark hair; you met his sharp gaze and deep brown eyes. There was something in his eyes that you had known for years.

“I love you.”

Those were the first words you heard that were said in Dyn’s true voice. Each syllable rang in your ears like a small chime. Dyn did not feel chaab, all he felt was love looking into your eyes for the first time, unhindered by his helmet.

“I love you too,” you replied. Dyn felt his lips pull up in the smallest of smiles and, as if he could sense the joy in the air, the Child chittered. “So does he.”

Dyn looked into the Child’s wide, dark eyes and sighed. “Little womp rat.”

The hand you had rested on his cheek moved and brushed through his dark hair. At your gentle touch, Dyn lifted his gaze to yours once more. In that moment, there was just the three of you, safe and together. Dyn found, in that same moment, that this family was all he would ever need.

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian imagine #the mandalorian imagines #the mandalorian fanfic #the mandalorian fanfiction #mandalorian fanfic #mandalorian fanfiction #mandalorian imagine #mandalorian imagines #dyn jarren #the mandalorian x reader #mandalorian x reader #dyn jarren imagine #dyn jarren imagines #dyn jarren x reader #dyn jarren fanfic #dyn jarren fanfiction #sw #star wars #star wars imagine #star wars imagines #star war fanfic #star wars fanfiction

[omgrachwrites]

True Love’s Kiss - Sirius Black

Sirius Black x Reader

Summary: Lily and James are tired of their best friends not admitting that they’re in love with each other so they take matters into their own hands.

Warnings: none, just fluff!!!

Words: 1306

A/N: This is for @wreckofawriter​‘s cliche writing challenge, my trope was bodyswap! I hope you guys enjoy this, I love you all! xxx

You felt your eyes droop as you sat back against the plush couch, the common room fire was warming your face comfortably. You were exhausted from studying for your stupid NEWT exams – you were glad that it was Saturday tomorrow – and Sirius had been playing with your hair, braiding little pressed flowers into it. It was very soothing. Stretching, you stood up and smiled at Sirius and Remus.

“I’m gonna head to bed, goodnight guys.”

“Goodnight Y/N,” both Remus and Sirius chorused, Remus gave you a boyish smile while Siriis winked at you.

Sirius was so handsome sometimes that it physically hurt. You wished that you could tell him how you felt, you had been in love with him for the longest time. But, you never felt like you were good enough for him, but everyone knew that you were. Everyone thought that you were amazing, and that included Sirius.

Lily and James broke away from each other, for the past hour they had been talking about something, with their heads pressed together. It must have been secret because nobody knew what it was, “night, Y/N. I hope you sleep well, see you in the morning,” Lily smirked while James was holding back a snicker.

You gave them both a weird look as you bade them goodnight as you climbed the stone steps to the dormitories. You decided that you didn’t want to know why they were acting so weirdly. When you woke up in the morning, you felt different but you just couldn’t place what it was, well, that was until you looked in the mirror.

You let out a sharp gasp when you saw that it wasn’t your face that you saw reflected in the glass. It was Sirius’ face, that devastatingly beautiful face of the boy you loved. As your, no Sirius’ hands reached up you could feel the scratchy stubble on his chin.

Looking around the dormitory you discovered that you were actually in the boy’s dormitory, that ruled out the possibility that you had been spiked with Polyjuice Potion. You had actually swapped bodies with Sirius, this must have been his idea of a joke. You were going to kill him.

There came a rustling from James’ bed and he poked his head from beneath the covers, his hair sticking up in all directions, “you alright mate?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, hesitating when it was obviously Sirius’ voice that spoke instead of yours, “I’m fine,” you turned back to the mirror. Sirius’ hair was a tangled mess, and you sighed as you picked up a comb, you weren’t looking forward to untangling it.

Finally, after you had finished gazing at the handsome face you saw in the mirror and after you had finished brushing the long tangled hair – you had broken two combs – you were walking down to breakfast with James, Remus and Peter. You kept your mouth shut as Sirius’ long legs carried you along the corridor, the boys hadn’t seemed to notice that anything was wrong. You vaguely wondered whether they were in on it.

On the walk down to the Great Hall, you felt very self conscious being in Sirius’ body, you knew him extremely well but it was like your mind had gone blank today, you didn’t know how to act. What made it worse was the many flirtatious looks that were being thrown your way, you didn’t know how Sirius could stand it, it was very annoying.

It was when you were halfway through your bowl of cornflakes that you had a real cause to be angry. All of a sudden, the Great Hall erupted with wolf whistles and James smirked, “Y/N is looking good today! Damn!”

Wincing, you turned to face the door, you wanted to curl up into a ball and wait till this whole thing was over. You saw Sirius – in your body – walking in with Lily and Marlene. He had opted for dressing your body in a pretty white blouse that was one of your favourites, and the shortest skirt that you had ever seen, you didn’t even realised that you owned it. As they walked towards the table, many boys that you didn’t know whistled and jeered.

Sirius had a smirk plastered on his, your face, as he reached the table. You scowled at him as you pushed your bowl of cornflakes away from you, “couldn’t you at least put some clothes on?” you hissed and Sirius shrugged, unbuttoning the first button of the blouse.

“Why did you have to brush your hair?” he then spoke in an undertone, “I leave it tangled for a reason Y/N. Though, you’re still a handsome bastard,” he winked and Remus who had been watching this whole exchange shook his head.

“You guys are acting so weird this morning.”

Later on that day, you and Sirius were sitting in The Three Broomsticks, drinking Butterbeer with James and Lily, Lily finally shed some light on your predicament. Lily and James glanced at each other before James spoke up.

“There’s a way to break the spell you know, you just have to admit it to each other, and then you know what comes after,” he smirked and looked over at his girlfriend.

Lily nodded in agreement and she addressed you, “you know what to do, Y/N. You know the only way to break any spell or curse. Every muggleborn does,” your blood ran cold at Lily’s words, you knew exactly what she mean. The couple then stood from the table and snickered as they ran out of the pub, looking back with a smirk.

Sirius sighed as he took a sip of his Butterbeer, “so that’s why James wanted to know about body swap spells. I’m going to kill him! And, what was Lily talking about? What will break any curse or spell?” Sirius asked, your eyes narrowed in confusion.

It was so weird to be in someone else’s body and it was even weirder to see him in yours, you hoped that Sirius had looked away when he had gotten dressed because you had. You downed the rest of your Butterbeer as you gained the courage, “in the old muggle fairy tales, true love’s kiss could break any curse or spell,” you hesitated before just coming clean, “Lily knows that I love you, have done since second year.”

“James knows that I love you,” Sirius laughed and you couldn’t believe your ears. He felt the same way? “Though, as handsome as I am, I don’t fancy kissing myself.”

You grinned, “I thought that given the chance you would love to kiss yourself, you’re such a narcissist,” you teased, “we need to get on with the show, I love you but I don’t want to be stuck in your body forever,” you leaned forward and connected your lips. It did feel very weird but you were technically kissing Sirius, he was just using your body.

When you pulled away, you were looking into Sirius’ gorgeous grey eyes, his handsome face lighting up with a grin, “I think that worked, I think that we’re back in our own bodies,” he chuckled before leaning forward to kiss you again.

You sighed happily as you felt his chapped lips on yours, you were overjoyed at this outcome but there were definitely better way that Lily and James could have tricked you into admitting your feelings to one another.

When you were walking back to the school, you spoke up about something that had been bothering you, “Sirius? When you dressed me this morning, did you look away?” you asked and he smirked.

“What kind of question is that? Of course I did,” you weren’t sure if you believed him, “it’s okay if you didn’t, I know how beautiful I am,” you rolled your eyes and giggled as you pushed his shoulder.

#sirius black #sirius #sirius orion black #pads #padfoot #sirius black fluff #sirius fluff #sirius imagine #sirius x reader #sirius black x reader #sirius x reader insert #sirius black x reader insert #sirius x you #sirius black x you #sirius x y/n #sirius black x y/n #you x sirius #you x sirius black #bodyswap au #bodyswap #ben barnes #moony wormtail padfoot and prongs #james potter #lily evans #jily #one shot #fantasy #cliche #cliche writing challenge #writing challenge

[halothenthehorns]

All in the Family

Chapter 26: The Deathday Party

Frank lay there for several moments before the screeching noise finally roused him from the stone cold floor. Shivering with every twitch of hands, he pushed himself into a sitting position and lethargically looked around to see who was being tortured. They turned out to be musical saws, and Frank counted his blessings when he banged his head on something and uttered a curse on the far side of the room, rather than being in the younger Black's condition of landing right next to these still going while no one was playing. Considering this only mild compensation for the way he'd acted in the last room, Frank rolled himself out from under the table just for the movement, as he was sure he was already turning blue from the cold, but stopped in surprise when he saw the papers he'd been holding from Lockhart's office had come along.

Eager and always willing to go find her, he hurried over to Alice's side, who was huddled up next to the door with a very put out expression in place. "Normally I love the cold," she happily told him. "'S my favorite time of year, with the beautiful snow and warm mugs, but I think I can pass on whatever this place is."

"A Deathday Party," Potter informed them, having not landed too far away, rubbing his hands together for warmth as well but looking quite pleased with himself as he quickly snatched up the book. "This is brilliant, can't believe Harry's going to one of these!"

"Must be Nick's, he usually makes a thing out of his," the more tolerable Black for now agreed as he came wondering over, hardly looking as if the cold was bothering him at all.

Potter was already flipping through pages to find his place as the two went near their other friends, while Frank eagerly turned to Alice and explained what he found.

"It's a good thing you weren't made Prefect," she couldn't help but laugh when he was done. "Going through a teacher's desk like that, what's come over you!" She happily teased.

"Don't let my mother hear you saying that," he tragically informed her. "She wouldn't stop going on about it all summer, rest of my life most likely."

Alice's smile lit up the whole room as far as he was concerned, hardly even noticing the puffs of air still visible for the warmth of her smile. "So you finally mention her, and that's what you come up with. We've been dating nearly ten months now, how is that the first time you've mentioned your family to me? I've all but introduced you to mine."

Frank just shrugged without comment for now, and as always Alice happily stepped off the topic with good grace. "Well, our theory of objects going into motion with us seems confirmed then, you keep hold of these papers and maybe when we finally stop spinning through this kids life they might just come back with us all together."

"You think that's possible?" He asked eagerly, looking around again and thinking of several advantages they could have of this. It would be quite something to find magic beyond their years, even books not even published yet, and take them back to the past of all things!

"I don't see why not at this rate, with all we've done," she sighed, looking far less encouraging to the idea, her mind clearly on whose timeline they could erase in all this.

Frank frowned in acknowledgment of that, and quickly kept on track. "Right then, I'll leave them in here when we leave and hopefully they'll go back to him."

"Best hurry up and let me read them then," she agreed, holding out her hand. Potter was already up to the explanation of why Harry was going to this Deathday Party, though neither of them had given much care at all for Filch haranguing another student about filth in the castle.

Lily had paused in surprise of hearing Filch was a Squibb, but apparently she'd been the only one not to be enlightened of this news. Must be a mudblood thing, her mind scathingly informed her as she went back to braiding her hair and pacing restlessly along the black crepe paper nearest the instruments. It wasn't at all pleasant, the sound harming her eardrums so much she hardly caught a word of what Potter was now saying in regards to Harry's own dissent coming down here. It was still better than the rest of the room. That younger Black had moved away from this area at once and had instead located over to the rotting food table with a blanket look of disgust, as well he deserved, she hoped the smell was atrocious. The Marauders were all located more in the center of the room, as if hoping to avoid all repellent things around them, while Alice and Frank stayed near the door and continued whatever they were chatting about. She had no wish to join them this time, she just wanted to be alone.

That wasn't even true though, she wanted Severus. Alice's defense for her had been heartwarming, she'd even grudgingly acknowledge under duress she admired the extreme reaction from Potter in his shout she be apologized to. At the very least though both were just pacing acquaintances in all this, at most Alice was turning into a genuine friend and Potter slightly more tolerable if he could stop bothering to hex the one person missing. She wanted her best friend here for her, to have him be the one to tell Regulus off for that, to offer her to tag-team the little whelp in retaliation for that remark. She could so easily envision what Sev would have done for her in that moment of need of a true friend she was almost smiling despite the circumstances.

"-Prongs, would you bloody pay attention! You'd be done by now if you'd quit gawking at her every other line," Sirius groused beside him.

"Eh?" He muttered, turning to him in surprise, before Sirius was proven right the very next second by his eyes again flickering to her. He loved it when she played with that long red hair, though he preferred it down than the tight braid she was putting it in. He could almost imagine it, that long mane sweeping around them between the pearly figures that should have been surrounding this place, possibly passing through several without a care, eyes only for each other. They'd sway to the tune of this awful music around them, but it wouldn't be so awful with her in his arms, the two keeping each other warm in this freezing room.

"J-J-James! I am b-b-begging you t-t-to-" Peter couldn't even get the full sentence out he was stuttering so bad from the cold, and Remus wasn't even trying, pressing himself so close to Sirius he looked like he was trying to jump right into his arms for any warmth. James released a gusting sigh, yet more visible air puffing out of him, as he grudgingly turned back once more to his lad having a miserable time at this party. He did suppose those two weren't as used to the cold, they didn't have to go out in Quidditch practices during it but instead spent their times up in the warm fires while he and Sirius became accustomed to this. Course on nights during these weathers they all had fur coats, so that wasn't a problem either.

"Oh yes, alright," he huffed as he went back to seeing Peeves taunt Myrtle, that was nothing new. He honestly would have skipped right past the Headless Hunt being such ponces to Nick, as they were every time he invited them. They'd only heard of his Deathday Parties once before, tried to sneak down here last year but been caught, but from what he'd heard inside the room before then had been similar. This bit was turning out to be nothing of interest at all, and his mind was just starting to wander back to clever ways he was sure he could convince Evans to just have one dance with him in here when Harry finally excused himself from this place, and heard it again.

His breath caught in his throat, he swore his friends even stopped shivering in surprise and went for their wands with nothing but a steady hand as they all again strained to hear a thing, but it was just too noisy in this room with that horrid background sound. He wasn't even sure if he'd caught anyone else's attention besides his friends, but he certainly did when he swore at the top of his lungs.

"What do you mean Harry went after that voice!" Sirius agreed while looking faint. "Prongs, I think your kid may well have a death wish!"

James did not disagree, reading on in a complete panic Harry would catch up to whomever this was!

Regulus was quite grateful he didn't, not even he wanted to hear of the murder of a twelve year old, but he did come across something just as intriguing as an icy voice in Hogwarts.

"Chamber of Secrets?" Alice murmured for herself. "I've heard of that, I think my cousin Flora mentioned it, but I hardly listen to a thing she ever says." She already wished she could go back to reading more pages of that strange interview Lockhart had given a man regarding a werewolf attack, it had certainly been better reading material than this tale.

"Me mum might have mentioned it once as well, more like an old wives tale surrounding Hogwarts and when it was founded," Frank agreed, scratching at the back of his neck as he tried to recall.

"Twice in one day, I'm flattered," she happily told him.

"Don't get used to it," he chuckled, wrapping an arm around her to draw her in as her shivers continued to increase.

The two froze, almost literally in these conditions, and it wasn't all for the cold anymore. "What's happened to Mrs. Norris?" She whispered so quietly beside him it was as if she feared whatever, or whomever, had done that were in here now.

Frank had no answer. Of all the things he'd seen the kids in this school do to each other, maiming a cat like that still ranked pretty high on his list.

Even now that the voice had gone, Potter clearly wasn't in any better of a mood. He seemed genuinely distraught at the arrival of someone, only to deliver another insult. No one got a chance to react again to that word being spoken as they were pulled once more from this room.

#Harry Potter #fanfiction #reading the books #CoS #Alice Smith #Frank Longbottom #James Potter #Sirius Black #Remus Lupin #Regulus Black #Peter Pettigrew #Marauders #Wolfstar #Jilly

[docholligay]

A Crack in Everything

For @yamadara87‘s fic, I combined two things I know she loves: Michiru, and Michiru being warm to Usagi. I hope everyone enjoys this nice MaS fic! 

Whether she was atoning for her own sins or for Mamoru’s, even Michiru did not know. The divorce had gone through quickly, thanks to the application of good lawyers and the lack of fighting. Usagi had surrendered, after a few awkward weeks of her claiming that she could love Mamoru enough for the both of them, and a dinner out with Rei where anything might have explained, but Michiru imagined was along the lines of, “Usagi, some people are the homosexual kind of gay.” 

Whatever frustrations Michiru might have with Rei in the day to day, there was something to be said for her ability to wield, not a rapier, as Michiru did, thin and sharp and quick, but her own certain style of conversational poleaxe. 

Michiru would have told anyone, not even four years ago, that she knew herself entirely. She knew her own mind, and her own heart, and what she wanted and did not want. Michiru knew who she loved, and how, and she knew what she would do in any given situation. It might have been true, when she said it, but at that time, Michiru knew, she was a much simpler creature. 

The stories are lies, she often thought. Love does not simplify things, it complicates them. The more love one holds, the more complicated everything becomes. It was easy to live solely for Haruka. It was more complicated to live for the intricate web of love she had formed in the rubble of that last battle. It had softened her in places she had not expected, lime dripping on the stone of her garden walls until they began to disintegrate in places. They would never come down--Michiru had built them too well--but there would be spaces where birds and squirrels could slip in and out, spaces where bees and butterflies could bring it to life, and bloom. 

And so it was that she found herself having a sleepover with Usagi Tsukino. 

They had been working furiously on her new place, a lovely apartment in a nice enough district that she had purchased as part of the settlement with Mamoru, his own brand of atonement. Usagi had been shockingly prudent, Michiru had first thought, and then remembered that Rei was ever at her side, and had likely reminded Usagi that it was only her now, and anything more than a small one bedroom was a bit of a stretch. 

Michiru Kaioh had hated Sailor Moon, Princess Serenity, and, by extension, Usagi Tsukino, for so many years that she had quite forgotten she had ever felt any other way. The Moon had bound her, the Moon had conscripted her into some ridiculous holy war, the Moon had taken the person she loved most in the world and bent those lovely qualities of chivalry and courage in her into weapons against herself. The Moon had chewed them all up and left them spat upon the sidewalk, and Michiru had hated, hated so deeply she felt it poison the soil. 

“Michiru!” Usagi popped cheerfully into her view, “Do you want some popcorn? I think we’re going to watch Spice World first, but if there’s something you want to watch, I’ll put it in the stack, for sure. I’m so happy you came!” 

She went to hug Michiru, and then didn’t, and Michiru smiled softly. She wasn’t the only one who had grown, it seemed, with the passage of years. 

“Usagi, this is rather meant to be a party for you, and so my selection is whatever would give you the most pleasure.”

Usagi nodded, sat on the floor in her bright pink pajamas. “But you did so much!” 

“Oh, I made a few phone calls,” she waved her hand, “let’s don’t pretend I’ve done anything too onerous.” 

It was true that Michiru had volunteered her greatest skills: Her connections, and her wealth, to spoil Usagi a bit in her new home. A couch in bright turquoise, seeming almost as a living pillow with its fluff, something she never would have afforded for herself, but of course Michiru knew someone who knew someone, and the fine  handmade couch was delivered to Usagi’s door. She had brought the food for tonight’s event, as well, a catering company setting up a table that took up her tiny kitchenlet, with pizzas and chicken nuggets and takoyaki and all manner of junk food. 

The walls had holes in them, and it was through these holes she had begun to see Usagi. They were kin, of a kind, both a bit out of step in Japan. Michiru in her own continental way, and Usagi in a way she hardly seemed to recognize as different. There was nothing expected in her new living space, a bright pink wall and lime green and silver sequined pillows on that new couch. She was too loud, and too bright, and overly familiar, but she could not see, or perhaps she refused to see, how she differed so from her place and the people in it. This was the most winning thing about her, Michiru thought: Usagi and she were both different from others, but Usagi would not assist in any separation. Michiru used her differences as a fence, but Usagi used them as a glue. 

If you wanted to be rid of her, you would have to try. 

“Everyone!” Usagi stood at the front of the room, clapping her hands together joyfully, eyes sparkling with the sheer delight of having her beloved former soldiers, now only her friends, in the room with her. 

Rei and Mina sat on the floor, sharing a soda between them, Rei trying to hide the newlywed sparkle in her cloudy eyes, like stars through a stormy night. Mako chattered happily to Pluto over the baked goods she’d brought--Michiru had not been so foolish as to deny her the pleasure of contributing that--and turned her head to Usagi’s voice. Haruka was nestled into the corner of the soft and lofty couch next to Michiru, a plate of food on her lap and a soda in her hand, relaxed and happy. 

“This is the first time we’ve all been together since…” Usagi looked around at everyone, and her eyes misted with tears, “since things…”

“Since Haruka had to worry about quality footwear!” Mina toasted the moment with her slice of pizza, and Haruka laughed, playfully calling Mina a bitch, and it seemed to break the spell of sadness over Usagi. 

She nodded her head, and grinned. “And we’re all finally together! Again!” 

They looked at each other for a moment, astounded both by the truth of the matter, and the fact that Usagi had been keeping track. Haruka and Michiru had not attended Usagi’s wedding. Pluto had been unable to attend Mina and Rei’s wedding, trapped as she was in her duties from time to time, hoping always that she would not be called back permanently. 

“Except…” and the sadness returned to her voice again, oh Usagi, so mercurial, able to feel everything at once and oh so deeply. 

She did not have to say the rest. Ami and Hotaru would never return, and so the group would never be complete except in it own shattered way, a chipped vase that still retained some form of loveliness. 

“And how very fortunate we are to be gathered here,” Michiru lifted her glass of seltzer, “with you.” 

I’m sorry, a note had said, slipped into their mailbox. She sent a note every week, since Michiru had sent her own notifying Usagi that Michiru had served her tour of duty, and was disinclined to continue any sort of relationship now that she had fulfilled her obligation. She returned them to Usagi, for the first year. Michiru returned the gift Usagi had purchased for M.A., a striped cotton onesie and a few French baby books with a glittering card telling her she’d ordered these specially, because she thought no one else would get them and she remembered Michiru was half-French. She rejected flowers, and closed the door on a pizza boy once, to Haruka’s horror. 

Then a card had said, I’m sorry. It had not been in any envelope and so Michiru had no choice but to read it. There were small spots on it where she must have cried, and Michiru tried to stop reading but she could not. There were words about how she loved Michiru, how she loved Haruka, and how she felt guilty every day that something she had never asked for had ruined their lives. It had killed Ami. It had killed Hotaru. It had hurt the rest, except Minako, even Usagi not able to see Minako had been hurt worst of all. Usagi wrote that she was sorry, and sorry again, that anyone had done it for her. 

Usagi wrote that she hated the Moon, for hurting her friends. That Michiru never had to talk to her again.

Atonement. 

Michiru had sat there a long time, when she read it, her daughter burbling happily in Haruka’s arms in the next room. She hadn’t forgiven Usagi, not in that exact moment, but for the first time, she began to see a chubby little blonde woman, with bright eyes and a crisp pepper of a voice, and saw that she looked nothing like Princess Serenity. That the Moon had used her, as well, and tried to impose its will upon her. She remembered that day in the cathedral, when Usagi had barely known them and saved their lives. Usagi had done that, and she had stolen power from the moon to do that. 

And so a stone had slipped out of her wall, a hole through which she could begin to see. 

It had only come to her recently, in how quickly she had come to Usagi’s aid when Mamoru had decided to take the tiniest bit of real courage in his life, that though she had nothing but hatred for Serenity, she did, somewhere, love Usagi. It may never be that they were close; Usagi was still very garish, and still had all the subtlety of a marching band. But she had learned that love is not an on and off switch, but instead is the light that comes through stained glass: shaded and colored and shaped, each bit making up the whole of the human heart. 

Usagi and Michiru looked at each other in that moment, the room held silent by the excitement and gravity of everything that had come before, and everything that was coming after. They were perhaps the two most different people in the room, here now, together, and not simply sharing space, for perhaps the first time in their lives. 

Usagi giggled, each titter a glimmering bit of the shattered silence carried away on the joy that overwhelmed the moment. 

“And thank you to Michiru for all the food!” She raised her pink moscato, a recommendation of Michiru’s toward the ceiling, spilling just a bit on the floor. 

Haruka scowled. ‘I helped pick it out!” 

“Oh of course, Haruka!” Usagi nodded, “You did a really wonderful job, and Mako! Mako made all the cupcakes and they’re so pretty! I love the pink glitter it’s so beautiful, and Rei helped plan the whole thing, and Mina…,” she searched for the words, not quite remembering what it was Mina might have done, ‘She’s just the best--” 

“I brought porn!” Mina brightly held the video aloft, “Pirates! Really high production values, I think even--” 

Rei snatched it out of her hand. “Did you seriously?” She held it close to her face, and then her eyes grew wide, and she looked back at Mina, “Minako!” 

“Okay, Usagi said to bring a movie that reminded us of our--” 

“Are you suggesting,” Michiru looked down at Mina, trying to hold her face serious but feeling a smile crack, “that we remind you of a group of porn stars?” 

“Michiru, they’re not porn stars they’re pirates who are just enjoying some high seas adventure, it’s called acting, you can watch like Dame Judi Whateverthefuck and be fine with--” 

Rei shoved her. “I am NOT--” 

“Okay Rei, but don’t we go into battle bravely?” She held her chin high, “And fuck just as bravely?” 

Usagi wrinkled her nose, “Mina--”

Haruka snorted. “Bravely?” 

“Bud, you tangle with the kraken, I can only imagine your courage. Respect.”

Usagi stomped her foot, “WE ARE WATCHING SPICE WORLD.” 

There were seven sleeping bags piled in the corner,  all touching one another, together because their owners had placed them there, and no accident of fate. The clamor went on, and Michiru sat watching, and through the holes of that wall inside her the sunshine streamed in, and she felt flowers she had never known lay beneath the soil beneath to bloom. 

It may have been poisoned, once. But the rain had washed it clean and dark and deep and filled it with life, and Michiru realized she was atoning for no one’s sins at all. 

She wanted to be here, with friends.

#Au of Mystery and Shadow

[scav-eng-er]

“If  Nothing Else, We Have This.” TROS Alternate Ending 3/?

AM I ASHAMED? YES. DID THIS TAKE TOO LONG? YES. BUT IS IT FINALLY DONE? YES. Part 3 of my fix-it story for our amazing sand gremlin and emo boi!! I swear writing Poe and Finn and Rose is soo stressful cause I don’t want anyone getting upset if they don’t seem like themselves. i dont know. Thank you to my beans @reylo-trash-4ever and @mojona1999 for putting up with me and my crazy schedule. I can’t wait to get more reylo and star wars memes - ILY my reylomates ❤️💙

Enjoy!

Part 1

Part 2 

The canopy of the forest whipped wildly, signaling the return of many ships. The sun filtered through the trees as hundreds of members hurried to help carry the injured, hug loved ones and celebrate in their victory. The First Order had fallen, the army of the undead defeated and the cheers of the resistance could be heard for miles. Tears were shed for those lost, never forgetting their bravery and sacrifice to save the galaxy. 

Finn scurried about looking for his friends. He prodded through, looking for any indication they made it out okay. His heart beat loudly in his ears, worry and panic starting to build as he began to imagine the worst.

Where were they?!

A familiar mop of dark locks caught his attention first.

“Poe!” 

The pilot turned, exhaustion on his face turned to relief as he enveloped Finn into his arms. 

“Guys!” The two caught Rose as she ran into their arms, sobbing into their chests. She released the emotional buildup she didn’t realize she held onto for so long, even longer than when she lost her sister. Her muffled sobs made their way into Finn and Poe’s hearts, who clutched her tighter, the emotion starting to get to them as well. Small tears trickled from their eyes into her hair. Their fight was over, and they had won.

It seemed like hours of emotional need for each other before Rose pulled away. Her eyes puffy and her lashes wet, she looked past Finn and Poe’s shoulders, scouting the base for their missing friend. 

“Whe-where’s Rey?”

~~

The two sat in the cockpit, watching the excitement take place outside. But inside, it was almost silent. The only sounds coming from each others breathing. It was like they were watching another world, unprepared but eager to step into it. Rey turned in her seat, and saw Ben gaze out behind her shoulder, as if he was looking for someone. 

“Just..wait here, okay? I’ll try and…prepare them.” She said quietly. He focused his attention back on her and nodded, a sad smile on his lips.

“Emphasis on try.” He couldn’t help joke. Rey visibly saddened at his comment, knowing that no matter what, chaos would ensue in a few moments. She didn’t want to see him get taken away, she didn’t want anyone to even touch him. A part of her knew he had to face the consequences of all the suffering he caused, but the other part defended his suffering. She wanted to take him to Leia, not as a prisoner, but as a boy returning to his mothers arms. 

Leaning in, she gave him a sweet kiss, reminding herself that this was real, he was real. 

The cockpit hissed as it opened, and Rey quietly made her way out, trying to keep attention away from herself. The emotion was full in the air, it was like Rey could taste it. Planting her feet on the ground beneath, she looked around in wonder. Everyone was too happy or excited to notice her. Pilots tossed their helmets in the air, hugging resistance members and transporting those wounded. She walked among the crowds, glancing back to the cockpit, finding him well hid and out of sight. 

Having second thoughts? He asked.

She sighed, Too late now, Solo. 

Rey wandered until she caught the small huddled group, in their own bubble, hugging with tears in their eyes.

“It’s over.” Finn whispered before engulfing Rey into a bone-crushing hug. She didn’t realize how emotional it was to hear it was actually over, causing tears to stream down her dirt covered cheeks. Rose and Poe joined in soon after and Rey felt the love of her growing family in her heart. This was the family she deserved, the one she created all by herself. It was never about blood or what name you were born with. It was about who you wanted to be around, who made you a better person, and who loved you unconditionally. Those who made Rey happy were safe and alive in her arms. 

She hadn’t realized how hard she’d been crying until she pulled away from Finn, seeing a dark stain on his vest. Rey couldn’t help but hold onto Rose even after they pulled away from one another, afraid something would still happen to her “sister.” When Rey and Rose met, the two became inseparable, noticing the bravery and determination in each other to put an end to the First Order. They spoke late at night in each others sleeping chambers, talking about Rose’s sister or Rey’s survival on Jakku. Rose always snuck more food in the mess hall for Rey, and Rey would bring back gifts from missions. She made Rey feel like she got a piece of her childhood, one she never had. She was more than a friend, she was a sister. 

Rey sensed that it was now or never. She stared back at her X-Wing, feeling Ben anxiously waiting. 

“What is it?” Rose asked, noticing Rey’s attention towards the ship.

She sighed, trying to think of the best way to elaborate how the Supreme Leader killed his abuser, cut off all connection to the dark side, was redeemed to his true self, and was now romantically involved with her. 

“There’s been something,” She tried to explain, “in the Force. Something that I was a part of before I was even born. And this piece of me, always felt half-full, like I…I was missing something..” 

The three friends leaned in, curious about where she was going with this.

“And you have to believe me that when I finally found that piece, I almost couldn’t believe it myself!”

Rose and Finn glanced at each other in confusion before listening again, Poe was beginning to tune her out, when he heard a random X-Wing cockpit hiss open. Turning his attention away, he noticed a strangely tall and dark figure climb down, his back turned to the crowd. Poe noticed the man landed in a huff, and hesitated before turning. 

Who…?

When the young man exposed his face, Poe felt his blood go cold.

“Kylo…”

In a second, Poe grabbed at his weapon attached to his hip. 

“Everyone, get back!” He screamed.

Rey gasped and turned, only to discover Poes attention on Ben, blaster in hand, aimed and ready to burn a hole in him. The crowd that was happily cheering not moments ago, now stepped back in horror at the scene before them. A general of the resistance ready to end the Supreme Leader.

“You need to get out of here!” Finn attempted to pull Rey away from the commotion, but she slipped out of his hold.

“Poe! Stop!” She hurried in front of the loaded gun, a look of fury on her face.

“What are you doing, Rey! Get back, now!” Poe ordered.

“Everyone, calm down!”

“Calm down?! Rey, it’s the Supreme Leader!” Finn screamed, shielding Rose whose eyes widened in fear at the man who had caused so much destruction.

“Soldiers ready!” Poe shouted, and more than a dozen men and women, dressed in faded green tunics rose their weapons, still as stone. They waited for the leader of the First Order to make a move. 

Rey looked over her shoulder to Ben. His eyes expressed exhaustion and the last thing he wanted to do was fight. Her heart lurched at seeing him so worn out. He looked so out of place in the bright sunlight of the forest, with his dark clothes and pale skin. His hair stuck out in all directions from his well-needed rest on the trip back and Rey couldn’t tell if his hunched shoulders was a fight response to the weapons pointed at him or not. 

She was about to explain everything, until she felt Poe’s shoulder push her away harshly, knocking her into the gripping hold of Finn. Poe took action and walked straight for Ben, his gun extended, as if it was a part of his arm. It looked ready for an execution.

“No!” Rey felt her voice crack as she screamed in her friends arms, his own uncertainty at the scene unfolding clear on his face. Rose couldn’t understand what was happening. All she could process was the pain in her friends voice as she cried out for this man. She thought she saw fresh tears come from Rey’s eyes, but if they even existed, she blinked them away. Rose gazed from behind Finn’s shoulders, seeing Rey’s fingers digging into his forearms, trying to escape. But his grip didn’t loosen. 

Before Poe could give the next command, before Rey could settle her emotions, Ben acted on the only thing he hoped would work.

She thought this would be the last thing he would ever do. A man of discipline, anger, or just plain stubbornness would fight back, defend themselves and attack their enemies. Rey remembered Kylos fighting technique; he conserved his energy unless absolutely necessary, using his saber as a defense. He had used Rey’s strength against her until she had exhausted herself. But this was Ben, not Kylo. And the resistance was no longer his enemy.

That didn’t stop her from freezing at the sight of him falling to his knees, his arms up in surrender. It felt as if the temperature of the forest had dropped, everyone confused or taken aback by the image of their sworn enemy on his knees. 

Poe stopped in his tracks, eyes widened. He didn’t lower his weapon, but Rey could already feel his confusion and conflict in his head. 

“I am not here to fight. I willingly surrender myself as a prisoner to the Resistance.” Ben’s voice was quiet, yet peaceful. Saying goodbye to his newfound freedom as his own man, he walked away from the First Orders chains, only to be strapped into the Resistance’s.

“Soldiers, arrest him!” Poe felt his leadership role take over again. 

Trying to dissipate the situation, Poe dismissed the crowd, suddenly having to take care of another problem. Finn released Rey, not comfortable entrapping her anymore. 

She watched as two large men cuff Ben, and roughly push him towards the cells. She felt rage at their misuse of handling him, purposely shouldering one, muttering “Watch it.” 

The guards said nothing after they heard Ben quietly question about his mother.

After they were out of sight, Poe walked back towards the control center, passing Finn and Rey.

“Let’s go.” He stated.

Not being able to look her in the eye, Poe mumbled, “You have some explaining to do..”

~~~

It could’ve been worse, I guess. Ben thought to himself. Much worse. 

He sighed, counting the number of screws on the metal ceiling above him. The warm glow of sunset from a small window scraped along the makeshift prison. He rested in the cot, hands still bound, unable to touch, move or hold anything. He wanted to hold Rey, hold her somewhere far away. There wasn’t much she could do to help him back out in the clearing. They both knew that. Ben was surprised that pilot didn’t shoot him - or at least injure him - when he had the chance. He remembered seeing Rey, being held back by her friends, the fierce fire in her that he loved so much. She could’ve ended the whole conflict if she wanted to, but bringing the Force into a situation like that wouldn’t help anyone. He couldn’t help but smile at her rough interaction with the guards on his way here. Her strength reminded him of his mother. Mom. 

Maybe banishment could be good for me. New name. New galaxies. The Solo tried to look on the positive side, or any side that didn’t involve him thinking about his mom. When he asked the guards, they said nothing. Maybe it was because they couldn’t speak to a prisoner, but Ben couldn’t help but feel like something was off. 

I came back here for you.

Will you forgive me?

A shadow moved in the corner of his eye, and he sat up, focusing his attention on the bars of his cell door. His sight adjusted to the darkness and he saw…a very small woman.

Wasn’t she out in the clearing earlier? 

Isn’t she one of Rey’s friends?

What is she doing here?

“Hello..” Ben couldn’t think of anything else to say. 

Her gaze wasn’t friendly, but not totally heartless either. She looked at him like he was an equation or problem she was trying to solve. She twiddled with her hands, knowing she probably wasn’t supposed to be there. Ben began to feel uncomfortable at her continuous glare. 

“Can I get you something? A glass of water?” Ben joked, his Solo peeking more and more.

The woman was still silent, but slowly, pulled something out of her sleeve. She wasn’t fidgeting, she was hiding something. 

Ben curiously leaned forward in his cot. A gleam from the sunset caused his heart to leap in excitement at what she held.

A key.

#reylo #reylo fanfic #reylo fanwork #reylo fam #reylo trash #rey #ben solo #kylo ren #star wars #tros #tros fix it #ben solo deserves better #rey deserves better #scavenger writes

[nebulous-frog]

Home Sweet Home

Summary: Dan and Phil moving through the years.

Word Count: 1520

Genre: Fluff, Mild Hurt/Comfort, 3 Times 1 Time

Warnings: A couple swears

Author’s Note: This fic was written for @phloridas​, who's been having a rough couple weeks due to some *ahem* unmentionables. Claire deserves the world, but I hope this little fic can make her smile :) Special thanks to @pasteldnp​!

Link to AO3 Fics Masterlist

2011

Dan looked around the flat at the boxes littering every surface. It was an overwhelming reminder of the fact that this was real. He was really moving in with Phil, and that was terrifying.

He’d moved away from home already to go to uni, of course, so that wasn’t the scary part. He felt no concerns about moving from his parents. The fear instead came from the unknown. They had no idea how long YouTube would last or if it would be enough to sustain them at all, not to even mention that they didn’t know if they would last.

Dan had no reason to believe they’d break up, of course. They were moving in together, after all, and they loved each other deeply. But the anxiety was still there. What would happen if they broke up? Dan would have to move back out, which would be a long and difficult process.

Actually, the more Dan thought about it, the more worried he felt. What was keeping them together? Phil was way out of his league, clearly, and there was no way he wanted to deal with all of Dan’s issues, not after the intense drama of him dropping out. Dan was just a temporary fling, and now someone to help pay the rent, until somebody better came along. And when Phil realized all this, Dan would have to, what, move back home? The thought of losing Phil made Dan’s chest tighten and breathing quicken.

“Dan?” Phil’s voice broke Dan from his thoughts.

He turned around to see Phil standing in the doorway, brow wrinkled in concern but smiling softly.

“You okay?” Phil asked. “You were standing there for a while.”

Dan’s lower lip trembled against his will. “I’m-” a sob escaped.

“Bear!” Phil crossed the room in a flash, somehow avoiding all the boxes with a shocking gracefulness. He wrapped Dan in a hug with his chin resting on Dan’s head. “Sh, it’s okay, I’m here. Just breathe, okay?”

A few minutes later, Dan had calmed enough to speak.

“Sorry, I’m just scared. I love you so much and I don’t want to lose you.”

“Lose me?” Phil quietly exclaimed. “Bear, I’m not going anywhere. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I’d never give that up. It’s okay to be scared, though, this is a big step. But I’m right here with you and I’m ecstatic that I get to say that now, no more long-distance calls or taxis just to see each other. I’ll always be here to hug you, now.”

Dan sniffed. “You made me cry again, jerk,” he mumbled, but the fondness pouring out of his tone made it less than convincing. “I love you,” he said again.

“I love you, too,” Phil replied, kissing Dan’s forehead.

As frightened of the future as he was, Dan was also excited. The future was a mysterious unknown and utterly terrifying, but there before him stood the familiar, the comforting. Phil was such a solid foundation of affection and support that Dan knew everything would turn out okay and all of this was worth it.

After a few more minutes, Dan pulled away, now calm and ready for the next step in their lives together. “Let’s get these boxes unpacked, yeah?”

 2012

“Why are you lying on the floor?”

Dan groaned dramatically, wiggling so his forehead pressed more firmly against the floor. “Can’t be bothered to move.”

A snicker came from above. “We already did that, we just have to unpack now. I can’t do that if you’re lying on the floor like a beached whale.”

They’d just made the move to London to be closer to the radio show. They had absolutely no furniture assembled so far and barely anything unpacked from their unholy number of boxes. Really, who needed this much stuff?

“That sounds like work,” Dan whined. “I’m perfectly comfortable right here on the floor.”

Phil let out an exaggerated sigh. “Alright, guess I’ll assemble the bed myself and you can sleep on the floor alone…”

“Floor’s comfy,” grunted Dan into the floorboards. “And it won’t steal my blankets or put freezing feet on my calves.”

“Oi, I resent that.”

“And the floor won’t keep talking when I’m trying to ignore the world.”

Phil started walking away, calling over his shoulder, “Enjoy your new boyfriend, then, see if he lets you be the big spoon.”

Dan’s head shot up. “You’ll let me be the big spoon?”

“Eh, maybe. If you’re good.” Phil kept walking. “But if we don’t have a bed by nighttime… and look at that, it’s already evening…”

Dan would later swear he’d never successfully stood up so fast in his life.

2017

“Thank fuck for aircon,” Dan said as he faceplanted onto their new bed.

“You can say that again,” Phil agreed, following suit.

“Everything’s sore,” Dan whined. “There are too many boxes and they’re all too heavy.” He turned his head to pout at Phil. “Massage me?”

“No way, bub, I’m too tired.”

“Ugh, rude.” Dan turned his head back the other way. They’d fully unpacked their bedroom today, so it was now decorated to a perfect moon aesthetic. It was the kind of aesthetics Dan would’ve only dreamed of when he was younger.

It was simple- a nice, clean monochrome, and the room was without clutter. If only that would last; Dan had too much experience living with Phil by now to even dare to hope that their room would be anything less than a live-in sock drawer within a week. As annoyed as he made himself out to be about the socks, he could feel a fond smile creeping onto his face. Phil was ridiculous, yes, but he was Dan’s, and Dan would never get tired of that knowledge.

Suddenly, Phil flopped his arm around next to him, earning a few “Hey!”s and “Phil what the fuck are you doing”s along the way, but his hand reached its destination eventually and their fingers linked. Dan turned his head to Phil again, eyes were squinted and his lips pursed in fake annoyance.

“You hit me in the head three times when you could’ve just asked, you knob.”

Phil shrugged, eyes twinkling with affection. “Where’s the fun in that?”

Dan rolled his eyes, but he was smiling.

“C’mere,” Phil demanded, rolling onto his back and opening his arms. He tugged on their clasped hands encouragingly.

“Bossy,” Dan grumbled through his smile. Happily, Dan wiggled his way onto Phil’s chest, appreciating the familiar squish of his body.

“You love it,” Phil replied, reaching his free hand up to run his fingers through Dan’s curls.

“Hmm, I suppose so,” Dan hummed. He reached his head up to kiss Phil’s jaw, then yawned. “I’m gonna sleep on our brand new bed in our brand new flat.”

Phil sighed contentedly. “Our brand new mouse-free flat without the cracks in the ceiling or a gas leak.”

“A flat that isn’t trying to kill us, can you believe it?” Dan mumbled into Phil’s shirt. “It’s a fucking miracle.”

“And soon, it won’t be just a flat,” Phil whispered.

Dan smiled sleepily up at Phil. “Soon, it won’t be just a flat,” he agreed.

Forever Home

Standing in front of their new house, Dan felt a lot of emotions.

He hadn’t expected to cry, not really; this was a long time coming and they’d been itching for this moment for years. But he supposed all that waiting turned into relief the moment they walked up the short path and unlocked the front door.

Of course, they’d been inside the house before when they were still house hunting, but this was the first time it was actually theirs. This was the culmination of years of waiting and wanting and trying and having to step back and realize it just wasn’t time yet, but it finally was time. They were going to move in and Dan was going to spend the rest of his life with Phil in this house. They were proper adults now, with a lawn and a garden and a little stone path to the road. There was a garage and a fence out back for when they’d get a dog, and there was enough space for so much more. Every one of Dan’s dreams for the future was tied to a house like this, and now they could all come true.

They would put a pride flag out front. They had a tub big enough to actually fit their lanky limbs in the master bedroom’s ensuite. A few extra bedrooms were just down the hall from theirs, so they could host their families or friends and, one day, their kids. Settling down and starting a family was just a few packed-up boxes away, and the sheer potential of it all was overwhelming.

Phil’s hand gave Dan’s a reassuring squeeze as they stepped into what would soon be their lounge. Dan looked over at Phil to see joyful tears rolling down his cheeks, too, and even without any furniture or boxes unpacked yet, Dan knew they were finally at home, sweet home.

#phan #phan fic #phan fluff #hurt comfort #forever home

[loveforpreserumsteve]

Not Without You (Canon Divergence Stucky Fix-It-Fic)

Nineteen:

One step closer to happily ever after. Well, until he heard Scott ask, "That wasn't supposed to happen, was it?"

What made it worse was when Tony replied, "Oh, we blew it."

Steve definitely didn't like hearing that at all. Quickly, he nearly begged, "Tony, what's going on? Tell me you found the cube."

Only, he didn't get a reply. Instead, he turned the corner to find his younger, naïve self. Groaning, he complained under his breath, "Oh, you gotta be shitting me."

Talking into his own communication ear piece, 2012 Steve claimed, "I have eyes on Loki. Fourteenth floor."

"I'm not Loki," Steve corrected, cautiously setting the scepter's case down, "And I don't wanna hurt you."

Instead of answering, 2012 charged with his shield lifted to decapacitate Steve. Luckily, Steve had brought his own shield up to block the blow. Knowing most of 2012's moves and fighting style, Steve had the upper hand. Blocking shield blows with his own shield and dodging out of the way of an impressively high kick.

However, it seemed that not much of Steve's fighting style had changed over the years as he went to kick the younger version of himself, only to have 2012 block and kick him first. Effectively knocking him, not only on his ass, but a good 12 feet from where he had been standing. Even causing him to slide further back.

"I can do this all day," 2012 said.

And yeah, maybe that was annoying to hear during a fight. Or perhaps it was the whole situation because, exasperated, Steve pushed himself up and deadpanned, "Yeah, I know. I know."

Deciding enough was enough, Steve threw his shield at his younger self. Unfortunately, 2012 had a similar idea, causing the shields to bounce off each other with a loud clang. With the shields falling off the glass bridge, both star-spangled men charged at each other. Blocking and dodging punches.

When 2012 managed to land a hit along his cheek, Steve grabbed his arm, pulled him over his back and flipped him to the ground. Not that the man stayed down. Got no god damn sense, Bucky used to say and damn it if he wasn't right.

Both men grabbing each other in a lock, Steve managed to knee 2012 in his side. Going to repeat the blow, however, 2012 moved out of the way and Steve's foot knocked the case through the glass barrier of the bridge. It wasn't the first time that Steve had wondered why these glass and steel bridges were made, but he resented Tony's modern architectural flare even more in that moment.

Trying to knock 2012's feet out from under him, Steve miscalculated and the pair slipped in the broken glass. Slipping over the side of the bridge and falling. Dropping quickly through glass balcony floors. Tumbling and bouncing harshly down sets of stairs. And slipping in between the spiral staircases until landing roughly on solid ground.

Although Steve had more of a difficult time standing than the younger him, when he found 2012 holding his compass in his hand, he felt as though his knees were going to give out beneath him. He hadn't carried Peggy's picture as a cover for years, but back in 2012, he still was. Unsure of how people felt about men like him, he hadn't removed it until the following year after he witnessed his first Pride parade.

2012 was gazing at the compass, but Steve couldn't read his expression. Not with that stupid helmet on. But when his voice nearly broke, Steve knew that he was fearful and he was angry, "Where did you get this?"

Instead of answering, Steve made a fast grab for the scepter that laid out of the case on the ground. Not that it did anything as 2012 stepped on it and put Steve in a chokehold. Throwing them to the ground, 2012 had the upper hand, but that didn't stop Steve from rolling, trying to shake his younger self off.

All he had to do was reach for --

2012 harshly tugged Steve's arm back to his side and tightened his hold around his neck. Fighting for air, Steve attempted to remove the arm pressing along his neck.

Steve knew that only one thing would stop him, so he breathlessly rasped, "Bucky… is… alive!"

Immediately, 2012's hold slackened and he dropped his arms entirely as he asked, "What?"

Only, Steve got one good punch to his nose. Not seriously injuring his younger self, just enough to disorient the man long enough for him to grab the scepter. Thankfully, he was closer now and he grasped it in his hand, rolling back just in time to see 2012 moving.

Touching it to 2012's chest, the younger Steve paused. Frozen for a moment before dropping unconscious on the floor. Letting out a breath of relief, Steve rolled onto to his knees. Grabbing his compass as he stood.

Still catching his breath, he took a moment to admire his frame and agreed with Scott, "That is America's ass."

Quickly, Steve carried the scepter out of the tower and made his way back to the side street that they first materialized in. Trying not to dwell on what he overheard through the comms. Because no. They couldn't fail. Not after everything they had already done.

"Cap."

Turning, Steve found Tony and Scott sitting remorsefully in a broken car. Tony looked absolutely broken as he admitted, "Sorry, buddy. We got a… problem."

Scott humorlessly laughed at that, "Yeah, we do."

"Well, what are we gonna do now?" Steve asked, refusing to see that as the end. Because it wasn't. The only way that Steve would accept that it was the end was over his own dead body.

"You know what? Give me a break, Steve," Tony rolled his eyes, "I just got hit in the head with the Hulk."

"You said that we had one shot. This --" Scott waved his arms around theatrically, "This was our shot. We shot it. It's shot. Six stones or nothing. Six stones or nothing --"

"You're repeating yourself, you know that?" Tony interrupted, "You're repeating yourself."

Scott turned his anxious energy on Tony as he accused, "You're repeating yourself. You're repeating yourself. You know -- no."

"Dude, come on," Tony rolled his eyes.

As the pair bickered, Steve tried to keep his own growing anxiety at bay. But he was having a difficult time doing so. After all, this was their one shot. They only had enough Pym Particles for one round trip each. How could they even get another stone, if they knew where to find it?

"Are there any other options with the Tesseract?" Steve interrupted their pointless arguing.

"No, no, no. There's no other options. There's no do-overs," Scott rushed with his nerves awry, "We're not going anywhere else. We have one particle left, each. That's it, alright? We use that -- Bye, bye. You're not going home."

Gritting his teeth, Steve lowly said, "Yeah, well if we don't try, then no one else is going home, either."

"I got it," Tony took a step towards Steve, "There's another way. To retake the Tesseract and acquire new particles. We'll stroll down memory lane. Military installation, Garden State."

That little piece of hope wiggled in Steve's heart as he asked, "When were they both there?"

"They were there at a --" Tony paused as he thought. Deciding, "I've got a vaguely exact idea."

"How vague?" Steve questioned.

"What are you talking about? Where are we going?" Scott piped up, brows furrowed as he looked between the men.

Tony ignored Scott, "I know for a fact they were there --"

"Who's they?" Scott asked, "What are we doing?"

"And I know how I know," Tony continued, looking at Steve intently.

"Guys, what's up? What is it?" Scott questioned again, desperately wanting to be in the loop.

"Well, it looks like we're improvising," Tony finally answered him.

As Scott started questioning more, Steve handed the scepter to him and said, "Get this back to the compound."

"Suit up," Tony instructed, so Steve did, letting the nanobot Time Suit cover him.

As they coordinated their Time GPS, Steve's heart raced and he asked, "Are you sure?"

"Cap. Captain. Steve, sorry, America. Rogers," Scott nervously started. When Steve looked over at him, Scott reminded, "If you do this -- and this doesn't work -- you're not coming back."

Although Steve knew that was true, he didn't want it to be.

"Thanks for the pep talk, pissant," Tony sarcastically told Scott. Turning to Steve, he asked, "Do you trust me?"

Looking at Tony, Steve decided, "I do."

#not without you #stucky #steve rogers #bucky barnes #steve rogers x bucky barnes #marvel #fanfic #wattpad #ao3 #canon divergence #post infinity war #endgame au #nomad steve #angst #hurt/comfort #fix it fic #eventual happy ending #battle of new york #cap vs cap #america's ass

[wallyaxiom]

well you lit this fire, years ago.

T A G G I N G : n/a

T I M E F R A M E : april 25, 2020

L O C A T I O N :  elias, ellie frederickson park to be exact

N O T E S : i’ve had wally feels for a few days now 

More than I imagined More than I was asking for Anything can happen In a city of open doors

If you were to tell Wally at twenty-five years old this is what his life would be he would have never believed you. Although, not everything had been the sunshine and rainbows he had imagined himself to have. For someone who lived in darkness the majority of his teenage years, wally believed he had found the light at the end of the tunnel. The happily ever after he envisioned. He was genuinely happy for a while. Then it all came crashing down and Wally was left to pick his broken pieces up yet again. The only thing was he wasn’t the only one. His son was also still healing. 

He was young. Only two years old but still the absence of a parent is still heavy. Wall did his best each and every day to make sure Josh knew how loved he was. It, not the life he ever wanted to give his son but it’s the life he got. Still, there was a chance to turn this all around. Wally had hoped that brighter days were on the horizon.  

one of those brighter horizons came in the form of the solar flare Jim Hawkins. They were dating by any means but Wally had developed feelings for the other. He enjoyed his presence and being around him. Wally swore off dating after his divorce since he never wanted to get josh’s hopes up but with Jim...it felt different and that alone scared him. He was cautious still but felt happier than he had in a while thanks to the man.

happiness. it’s something that wally had always wanted in his life. for a long time, he was unhappy with how his life played out. whether it was his body image, his parents, the bnl gang, and every little thing in between. it took a while for wally to finally found true happiness from within but lately, he felt he had found it. he was finally starting to live his dream. for years he felt like he had been caged. forced to play a role he never wanted. or tied to duties that were unfairly balanced. now he was like a bird, free from the restrictions that held him back. he could do and be whoever he wanted to be. his side job at mama ode’s cafe helped put some money on the table as wally went out for auditions. the life of an aspiring actor was a long winding road that often ended in disappointment. he had been grinding for three years. He landed small gigs here and there. A few background characters and commercials. it was nothing remarkable but it gave him credits on his resume. as he was nearing twenty-sex in a few months wally feared that his chances were fleeting. the dream could only last so long and wally had the passion but at the same time, he had a kid to think about. he couldn’t still be chasing crazy dreams when it wasn’t just his life anymore. it was their life. and as a single parent, his world revolved around Josh. of course, he wouldn’t have had it any other way. 

today he had the day off from work. mama ode who owned the cafe was an eccentric lady but she understood the importance of family. She sympathized with wally’s situation and even took him under her wing. His work schedule was flexible for his son’s sake. For that, he was grateful. Elias had been more forgiving that Los Angeles had ever been. The latter still holds the key to his dreams so he couldn’t criticize too much. Walking hand in hand with his son. Wally sat on a bench as Josh stood before him. He fixed the five-year old’s clothing, smoothing out any creases and fixing the tuff of brown locks that laid upon his head. it might sound selfish and even a little harsh but wally was glad his son resembled him more so than his ex-husband. Though traces still could be found of him in small details of the young boys' face most of them had disappeared just like the man himself. Now he was all Wally and if that wasn’t symbolism wally didn’t know what was. 

“I’m going to stay right here and watch you, sweetheart. if you need anything don’t hesitate to ask okay?” Wally replied with a gentle smile.

“Okay, mom.” josh squeaked in his little voice. It was a new development, mom was. Wally never spoke to Josh like he was a child per se. He knew that his son was far more intelligent than people gave him credit for. actually, most children were. Wally never wanted to talk down to his son and use phrases like ‘i’ll tell you when you’re older’. no, instead wally educated. they taught tolerance, acceptance, and kindness. if josh ever had a question wally would do his best to help his son understand a situation. He was still a parent of course. They also made sure josh still stayed a kid and didn’t grow up to fast. He just helped his son become a little wiser each day. The topic of wally’s gender identity was bound to happen. It was sooner than later as he expected but Wally simply told josh he could call him whatever he wanted. If he wanted to stick with papa he would be happy. if he said anything else wally would be happy. It seemed as though Josh was trying different things until something stuck. one day it was papa or some variation of the word mom. it switched back and forth but it never bothered them. wally was happy to have such a beautiful soul for a child. It was still a concept Wally was teaching Josh but to learn it now meant he’d be more open and accepting in the future. At least Wally believed so.

After a kiss to the cheek and another quick run-through of his fingers through josh’s hair, Wally let his son out into the world. They sat there watching with absolute fondness in their eyes as Wally watched Josh play with the other kids. As he had gotten older josh had come out of his shell more. The boy was still terribly shy but he was a little more social than he was even a year ago. it was progress that Wally was immensely proud of but to be fair every day Josh made Wally proud even in the littlest of things. The pair had been there for about twenty minutes when Wally received a phone call. it was from an unknown caller ID but something in wally’s but told him he needed to take this call. “Hello?”

“Hello, is this Wally Axiom?” the voice asked.

“it is,” Wally replied, trying to make sure all uncertainty stayed out of his voice.

“Good afternoon Wally. I’m Jeff Cartwright, the director for Hairspray at the Fantasia theatre in Los Angeles. I wanted to let you that we are extending you an offer to play one of the nicest kids in town-”

Wally could have dropped his phone right then and there. Everything felt like it was happening in slow motion. Like this was some surreal dream. the Fantasia Theatre was the Wintergarden theatre or any of the theatres on broadway were to New york. it was a big deal to be part of a show there. Sure it was the same caliber as broadway but it was a big stepping stone in his career. 

“Thank you so much for this opportunity. I happily accept the offer.” Wally said, doing their best to remain calm and not scream to the heavens that his chance had come.

“Great, rehearsals start next Friday. Can’t wait to have to part of the team!”

The smile on wally’s face was unbreakable. After hanging up he looked at his phone for a moment still reeling from the conversation that just took place. His chance had finally come. This was what he had been working towards for three years. All his hard work had finally paid off. This was his shot. His chance to propel his dreams into reality. It was an ensemble role sure and most people would call him crazy to get so worked up over something so small but wally didn’t see it as anything small whatsoever. This was something magical. It was an opportunity of a lifetime that could turn into something more. Clutching his phone to his chest, wally’s eyelids softly closed as a shaky, yet happy breathe left his body. A huge weight lifted off him at that moment as he smiled to himself.

so this is what it feels like when dreams come true. 

#sp: wyltfya #mandy moore's new album silver landings is SUCH a wally mood

[revisionaryhistory]

Three Days ~ 16

*~*Sebastian*~*

I really should be given a lot of credit for how long I stayed away from Emma.

Day one I couldn't stop holding her hand. Day two I had to touch her. Day three all I want to do is hold her. Well, not all I want.

Since I woke up with her in my arms there's a part of my brain constantly on the look out for how to get her back there. I have to admit I’m not super confident because my brain has failed me numerous times in trying to figure out kissing her. Had it helped me out with the kissing I wouldn't be so fucking desperate to hold her. Probably wouldn't be talking so much to myself either, but that isn't really unusual. Maybe just different topics.

My mom is having fun with this. I'm not always translating everything she says. She told me Emma was beautiful and she understood why I hadn't come home. She told me I had to work for at least an hour before I could see her. Then she sent her to the opposite side of the house from me and stood guard across the hall.

When I was "allowed" to see Emma again I scared the shit out of her. It was fucking hilarious. When I grabbed her into my arms I held her head against my chest so maybe she wouldn't know I couldn't stop laughing. I couldn’t stop laughing until she ran her hands down my back. It was the same barely there sensual touch that went from my shoulder diagonally down and around to the side of my stomach. I closed my eyes to enjoy it and imagined it didn't stop there. So when she led me into the guest room, a room with a bed, it took every ounce of self-control in my body not to throw her on the bed and cover her with me.

The picture snapped me out of those thoughts. It had been years since I’d seen it. It was full of happy memories of a good time in an otherwise gray period. I wasn't old enough and I think mom shielded me from much. She tried to make whatever food we got something fun for us to build meals around. It wasn’t that we didn’t have food. We didn’t have a lot and we didn’t have choices. We played a form of bingo with what we'd get. Meat, dairy, and fruit were coveted. Except that one weird cheese that we got every six weeks or so. Nothing made it not horrible.

I can't remember telling any other girlfriend about how the beach in a communist country taught me freedom and curiosity that culminated in me being in a NASA movie. Coolest thing ever. Now I’m in the guest room telling secrets I barely remember. Frightening secrets for a kid. There's really no way to escape that without carry some things with you. I don't talk much about Romania because I don’t remember much, but what I do remember I don’t really want to talk about. I wonder if my mom planted the picture for me to share a happy memory.

I dropped Emma off at the kitchen and went back to the family room. Anthony and I headed out to the garage to find a couple of things he knew were missing from the room. Back inside we started arranging things. The kitchen wasn't far away. Every so often I'd catch words or a sentence. They were talking about winters and snow removal. I listened closer when mom asked where and how long she'd lived here. Nothing I didn't know. As Emma explained where her place was, she told mom about local shops and answered questions about the area. Very sweet.

Meanwhile in the family room we got things arranged based on where the TV hung on the wall and came to the realization it was all wrong. I yelled for mom. Emma followed her into the room. Mom looked around, "This is all wrong."

A ridiculous amount of time later we'd rearranged everything. The only thing left was for me to move the TV and rewire everything. I'd be an expert by the time we were done. Mom suggested a break and went to get beers.

I flopped onto the couch and when it looked like Emma was going to sit too far away, I grabbed her hand to pull her closer. Damn near landed her in my lap. Wouldn't have been a bad thing. I recreated the scene from the bench last night with my arm around her shoulder and her holding my hand. That left each of us with a free hand for beer. Emma turned a little where she was leaned against me and laid her head back on my shoulder. I buried my nose in her hair, breathing her in until mom brought back beer.

I doubt this was what Emma had in mind when I suggested she come with me. Mom and Anthony were talking so I gave Emma's shoulders a squeeze to get her attention. "Not much of a rest day for you. I'm feeling selfish. I wanted to spend more time with you.” I was coming clean. I wasn't going to apologize because that would be a lie.

She smiled, a sweet almost shy smile, that made my stomach flutter. "I wanted to spend more time with you too." Her smile tuned to a smirk, "So don't suggest taking me home unless you're ready for me to leave. I'm enjoying myself."

"No problem."

Mom's voice broke the moment, "Emma, have you had Romanian food? We were thinking dinner and a movie. If my son gets the TV hooked up."

"You've just given me motivation, mom."

I felt Emma laugh more than heard her. "No, I haven't and sounds great. Thank you."

Anthony stood up, "Let's get back at it."

Mom excused Emma from the kitchen after Anthony and I got the TV sorted. He went to his office. Mom stayed in the kitchen and I got an assistant for hanging shit and putting up books. There were an obscene number of books. Thankfully they were sorted into boxes in a way that made alphabetizing them by author not so much a pain in the ass. The ease with which Emma alphabetized the titles within each author was super hero like. My job was to hand them to her. By the respectful way she handled them I knew she loved books. She took a stack from me, "Do you like to read?"

I nodded, "I've read most of these. I’ve always liked to read. I do a lot of reading to research characters.”

"Like what?"

I went with the most obvious. "For the Winter Soldier and Bucky I read a lot about psychopaths and PTSD. They’re really two different characters, maybe four.. True crime procedural stuff for Destroyer. Way more space shit than I needed for the Martian. Loved the book."

"Do you prefer non-fiction to fiction?"

"Pretty equal. I'm usually reading a couple of books at a time. I switch back and forth. I love Harlan Coben from before they were making his books movies. Have you read anything of his?"

Her eyes shifted up as she thought. "The one that was a French film. His wife dies then like ten years later he gets a message."

At the same time we said, "Tell No One."

I continued, "Loved that one. He writes lots of those thriller mysteries and has a series about a detective. Lots of humor and his best friend is a millionaire sociopath. Those are fun. Always reread classics and my favorite novel is changing all the time. A lot of mindfulness, Buddhism."

Her eyes lit up, "Have you read Illusions by Richard Bach?"

"Doesn't ring a bell."

"It was written in the seventies. We passed it around in college. Once you read it you had to buy a copy, highlight some of your favorite bits and give it away. Basically, a Messiah is training his replacement. He gives him a handbook only the pages are empty, except when he opens it, he finds answers."

"I think you can do that with anything. Even a newspaper." This was turning into another one of those great conversations like music and movies. I knew it would.

She was nodding quickly, "Me too. It is full of short insights. My favorite is "You're never given a wish without the power to make it come true. You might have to work on it, however." It's a faux Christian eastern religion self-help novel."

I laughed, "That's great."

"Yeah, we'd get high at frat parties and talk in Illusion and movie quotes." She snorted laugh.

"Did you break into the pantry for snacks like we did?"

"Of course. Always cheese."

I was amused by the thought of Emma as a grunge loving stoned psuedo intellectual. Made me remember my days as an 80's music loving stoned theater major space nerd. College was fun.

Back to books. "What's your guilty pleasure reading?"

"This is my Jessie's Girl." We shared a smile. "I love paranormal romance."

"Paranormal romance? "I repeated." Ghosts and shit?"

"Oh no. Vampires, dragons, shapeshifters."

I couldn't hide my smile, "Way worse than Jessie's Girl."

She glared at me, "It's close."

Her glare turned to a smile then a laugh and I had to hug her. I wanted to hold on to the moment, take in how much fun this was. The conversation, the teasing. She felt like an old friend I'd just met. Only with a lot more sexual attraction. The kind that had me noticing how every curve of her body was pressed against me. Had me wanting to run my hands on top of her clothes before moving underneath them. Wishing she'd slide her hand under my shirt so I could feel her touch my skin.

I took a step back, "Hit me with the details."

She laughed again, "There's two series I love. Some variation of a testosterone filled alpha male who thinks he's rescuing a woman who ends up being his soulmate and saves him. One is grounded is Greek mythology and finding his mate can literally free his soul and the other creates its own mythology. One or both always have a heartbreaking past, there's something they have to go through, and then the happy ending. They're well written and incredibly satisfying."

"Do you believe in that?"

She drew her eyebrows together, "Happily ever after?"

I shook my head, "Soulmates."

Emma looked at the ceiling, screwed up her face, then looked back at me. "The chickenshit answer is people come into our lives for a reason and go away when they’ve served their purpose."

I wasn't so sure. "Not necessarily chickenshit."

"I meant the safe answer.” She bit her lip and continued, “I do believe in soulmates. But I don't think there's necessarily one person for anyone. A soulmate a twenty might be different than a soulmate at forty. People change and grow, so it makes sense your perfect partner might not stay perfect. You can grow together or grow in different directions.  I'm a hopeful romantic."

I liked that. "I think some people use the concept of soulmate to not work for it. It takes a lot of work and vulnerability to be with another person. Hell, to be with yourself. It's hard to be honest with yourself sometimes, forget about laying yourself bare to another person." I shook my head, not believing the strange direction this had gone. "I'm not always that brave."

We'd gone from laughter to this intensely intimate place. I'm talking about how difficult it can be to be vulnerable, which is a very vulnerable thing to do. Maintaining eye contact was hard.

"Everyone struggles with being brave.”

The matter of fact way she spoke reminded me of the gym when we were talking about insecurities. This was the second time I’d shared something and she didn’t try to convince me I was wrong. She accepted what I’d said as true for me. She’d accepted me. Well, now, there’s a thing. I smiled. “I think it’s about finding someone you’re ok being afraid with and is brave enough to be afraid too."

Slowly she started to smile, “Awfully deep conversation we’re having.”

“No shit! How the fuck did we get here?”  I shook my head and laughed. “I think we were talking about Jessie’s Girl.”

“Yeah, that’s it.” She joined in laughing before learning forward to lay her forehead on my shoulder.

I put my hand on the back of her neck and leaned my head against hers.

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan fanfiction #fanfiction

[vannahfanfics]

Use With Caution

Category: Friendship Fluff

Fandom: Blue Exorcist

Characters: Rin Okumura

Requested By: kyobasu (FanFiction)

Rin raised a hand to his mouth as he yawned loudly and unabashedly, his face scrunched up from its intensity as he eased himself down onto the stone rim of the campus’ fountain where he so often perched after an afternoon in Exorcist Cram School. Now that most of the student body had vacated the school campus to return to their dorms or take the public transit to the nearby city for an evening of mild revelry, he lazily pulled his demon tail out from under his uniform shirt, which he had untucked as soon as he had passed through the threshold of the exit, to let it flicker around behind him like Kuro’s tail so often did. He ought to return to the dorm himself and do some studying. Yeah, screw that! He thought with a devilish sneer. He propped his elbow on his knee to lean his cheek in his hand, his tail continuing to sway side-to-side behind him as he pondered what he could get up to besides hitting the books. After all the business in Kyoto, Rin was on significantly better terms with all of his classmates, so asking one of them to hang out with him wouldn’t be unreasonable; the question was discerning who was free.

Rin was usually the first one out of the building, making a mad dash for fresh air and sunlight like he was allergic to the academic environment, and so the rest of the exorcists-in-training often lagged behind. He saw them approaching in the near distance, strolling over the neatly arranged cobblestones towards the fountain that bubbled pleasantly behind him. Rin wasn’t sure where the rest of them wandered off to, but Renzo and Ryuuji were currently walking in his direction, Ryuuji with his bag slung over his shoulder and looking ever the rebellious degenerate, while Renzo plodded along beside him looking completely innocent but probably in the process of plotting at least ten schemes. Yukio was strolling along behind them, his nose in a book that just by observing its thickness Rin knew he didn’t want to even touch it.

“Rin, you shouldn’t have your tail out. What if someone sees?” Yukio scolded him as he came within earshot. Rin responded by childishly puffing out his cheeks.

“Don’t be such a stiff. No one’s gonna see. Do you know how uncomfortable it is to keep it wrapped around me all day? It gets itchy after a while,” he whined as he stretched out on his belly on the stone fountain. The tip of his tail traced patterns in the rippling water’s surface, then lashed like a whip, splattering droplets of water all over his brother’s face. Rin giggled as Yukio exhaled deeply and pulled off his glasses to clean them off on his uniform, obviously unappreciative of the playful banter. “Where’s Konekomaru? I figured he would be with you two,” he asked Renzo and Ryuuji.

“He had to run an errand. He’ll be back later,” Ryuuji reported casually.

“What’re you doing today, Okumura?” Renzo asked in that polite yet somehow disinterested way of his. He really was an odd guy but Rin liked that about him.

“I dunno yet. Are you guys free?”

“You should be studying,” his younger twin interjected with a scoff, to which Rin replied with a dour frown.

“Dun wanna.”

“You’re never gonna stomp Satan with that attitude,” Ryuuji sneered while crossing his arms. Ryuuji could say anything and get under Rin’s skin, but insulting him directly always got him fired up; he jumped to his feet while grating his teeth, fists already up to grapple and his tail lashing about furiously like a coiled cobra.

“You wanna go? Do ya? I’ll stomp you first!”

“Just try it! I’ll beat the shit outta you!” Ryuuji snapped back and, while still smiling in that peculiar fashion so characteristic of him, Renzo promptly locked Ryuuji’s arms behind his back and let him stamp his feet and curse out all the violent energy that Rin had stirred up in him. Irritated, Rin squatted down on the stone fountain and settled for teasing the fact that Ryuuji couldn’t square up while he was being held, highly amused that he could only make him angrier. It was all in good fun, though; Suguro could definitely get him going, but he really liked the guy and thought him capable. One couldn’t tell it by the way they were constantly at each other’s throats, though, like a couple of rabid dogs quarreling over some scraps.

“Okay, guys, that’s enough now.” Renzo, ever the diplomat. It’s not like he actually cared if Ryuuji and Rin scrapped, though; he was just tired of expending the energy to keep Ryuuji at bay. He released the aforementioned boy’s arms. Ryuuji shot him an acidic glare before managing to compose himself. “Anyway, if you’re looking for something to do, I have just the idea.” The pink-haired boy grinned to himself as he plopped down onto the fountain next to Rin and began digging in his school bag, looking mischievous. Rin liked mischievous.

“Oh, shit, not those,” Ryuuji groaned as Renzo procured a package of some ordinary-looking chocolate bon-bons from the depths of his school bag, which he casually tossed to the side after securing his prize. Rin, very interested in the chocolate simply for being food, leaning over his shoulder as he stripped away the packaging.

“What’s so special about ‘em?”

“He bought ‘em in some random shop in the city. Apparently, they’ve got some kind of love potion in ‘em.”

“And we’re gonna make Shiemi and Izumo eat them~!” Renzo squealed with delight and happily held the box of chocolates above his head. Rin’s dark eyebrows approached the roots of his hair as his eyes widened. The chocolates certainly didn’t look any different than regular chocolates, but looks could certainly be deceiving. The box did have a “use with caution” notice printed on the top. 

“Surely you don’t believe that nonsense,” Yukio sighed while pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

“Come on, have a little fun, wouldja?” Renzo’s true colors were showing now; a grin with devilish intent that could rival Satan himself painted his fine features as he lowered the unassuming box of candies. “You can’t deny that you would be overjoyed to have Shiemi doting on you a little~”

“S-stop that! That’s ludicrous!” Yukio sputtered with a face ablaze with blush. Renzo one, Yukio zero. “I’ll prove it right now. This stupid candy is just a scam you wasted your money on,” he huffed, and while Renzo squirmed and alarm and tried to prevent it, Yukio jumped forward to rip open the plastic covering, pluck one of the bon-bons from its place, and pop it into his mouth. His shoulders were hunched up to his ears as he chewed on the confection. Renzo yelped and jumped behind Rin to ensure as little as him was visible to Yukio as possible, not wishing to become the stiff young teacher’s object of affections even if temporarily.

“Asshole, you’re stepping on my tail, stop!” Rin whined and yanked it out from under his tennis shoe. When he looked back, Yukio was gazing at him blankly. “Um… Yukio, you all right, dude?”

“I feel odd.”

“Odd?”

“Yeah… My heart is beating really fast all of a sudden.”

“Ho-ly shit, it worked!” Ryuuji howled and promptly doubled over in a fit of hysterical laughter. A shiver traveled from the tips of Rin’s toes to the ends of his hair at the alarming prospect.

“Wh-what? That’s preposterous! He’s my brother! That’s disgusting!” Yukio shouted at the still cackling Ryuuji, who now had tears brewing in the corners of his eyes. His brother’s cheeks were apparently permanently dyed a shade of carnation, because every time his gaze flickered to him, it would appear. “I-it’s obviously just a side effect of whatever stupid ‘love potion’ this guy put into these chocolates! I totally don’t think my little brother is adorable and cute and I want to hug him!”

Ryuuji’s laugh abruptly hitched in his throat as he looked at Yukio incredulously. The boy apparently realized what he had said and clapped his hands over his mouth in horror, and Rin held his breath as his face turned a slight shade of green from nausea swirling around in his stomach. Renzo released a snort of laughter that he had been trying to contain behind his laced fingers over his lips, and this was the catalyst for Ryuuji to release a hoarse wheeze and begin howling with laughter all over again.

“Oh my God!”

“How do we get rid of it?!” Rin shouted and whirled around to shake Renzo, who was now blue from holding in his breath, violently by the shoulders. He exploded into a giggling fit too, and held his stomach as the package of bon-bons slipped out of his lap to fall onto the ground.

“Ahhhhhh, this is hysterical! Much better than I imagined!” the pink-haired boy sighed after calming down and wiped tears from the corners of his eyes. Ryuuji was squatted down holding his aching ribs, still quivering as snorts slipped out from time to time, and Yukio was just standing there with his fists balled up and his face redder than a tomato. “But we know they work! We gotta get Izumo and Shiemi to eat them!” he beamed, hand diving down to snatch the fallen package from the ground, before jumping up with sparkling eyes.

“Wait, wait! Don’tcha think we should invite Paku, too? Y’know, so there’s one girl for each of us!” Rin suggested.

“Oh, you’re right. Good thinking, Okumura.”

“Yeah, okay, but now we have to figure out who gets who,” Ryuuji sighed from where he was now sitting on the ground, breathless from laughing so much but seemingly recovered.

“Aren’t you forgetting about me?” Yukio snapped, irate.

“Shut up, you don’t count, you’re in love with your brother!” Renzo cried much too giddily, and even though Rin was kind of uncomfortable with it at first it was now absurdly comical, and he joined the two guys in howling at Yukio’s expense. Yukio fumed so hot that an egg could fry on his head in ten seconds flat.

“Wait, you’re gonna play along?” Rin asked Ryuuji when he was done laughing. Ryuuji wasn’t one he pinned to go along with their playful antics; normally he was much more content to study and tout that he was better than Rin for it.

“Someone has to make sure that Renzo doesn’t do something that lands him in jail.”

“Don’t say that! I’m a gentleman! A gentleman!”

“You’re a pervert and you know it.”

“He’s kinda right, you know,” Rin snickered and jabbed him repeatedly in the side with his elbow. Renzo deflated like a balloon.

“You guys suck… Anyway… How about this? Rin can have Shiemi, because he’s in love with her already,” -Rin proceeded to choke on air- “I’ll take Izumo,” -he paused to put a hand over his heart and sigh endearingly- “and Bon can have Pazu.”

“I don’t even know Pazu.”

“You can have Izumo, then! They’re all beautiful <3”

“Pervert.” Rin was too busy discreetly gushing about the fact that the gentle, adorable Shiemi would be his partner. Wait, but for how long? His brother seemingly read his mind.

“Hello? Are you forgetting about something? Is this permanent?!” his brother continued to pout.

“Nah, it only lasts a couple hours. Just tough it out,” Renzo mused while rattling the box of magical chocolates. Yukio huffed and crossed his arms to look away, but his gaze crept back to Rin no matter how much he seemed to try to prevent it. It just so happened that the girls meandered to the fountain, just in time for Renzo to put his plan into play.

“Rin! Yuki! Hello!” Shiemi called jovially with a wave of her arm. Rin sighed in contentment as her pretty blonde hair bobbed alongside her kind, round face. She’s so cute… “What are you up to?” she asked as she momentarily left Izumo and Pazu’s side to prance over.

“Go time,” Renzo whispered in his ear, stirring him into action.

“Oh, hey! Shima was just sharing these awesome candies with us, ya want one?” he grinned and plucked one from the box to hold it out to her. He tried to keep his hand from trembling as his heart thundered in his ribcage like a tumultuous symphony; sweat crawled down the side of his head as he threaded his hand back and forth through his already messy hair, trying to seem nonchalant as he flashed her a toothy grin. Shiemi blinked, tilting her head as she inspected the round little bon-bon.

“Su-“ Before she could even get the word out of her mouth, Yukio shouldered past her to snatch the chocolate from Rin’s hand, jerk him aside so that he landed in the fountain with a frantic splash, grab a very alarmed Renzo by the front of his shirt, and shove the candy into his mouth. He then shook him about so he was forced to swallow it lest he choke to death. As Rin sat up in the cold fountain water, droplets streaming down his face and dripping from the hair that was plastered there, Renzo was holding his throat and coughing violently while facing him, eyes closed.

“Ah! Shima, don’t open your-“ Too late.

“Okumura, control your twin, would you?” he growled as he shot him a glare. The panic must have been clear on Rin’s face, because no sooner had their gazes locked had Renzo’s face morph into the visage of terrible realization. “Oh no.” His face then proceeded to turn the shade of his dyed hair, and he curled up on the fountain rim while covering his face. “Ohhhhh noooooo…”

“What’s the big deal?” Izumo asked with a hand on her hip. Pazu was laughing lightly while scratching the side of her face, and Shiemi was still shell-shocked, her hand lingering in the air where she had intended to take the chocolate.

“The chocolates are apparently laced with a love potion,” Yukio answered gruffly.

“Yeah, so what the hell is your problem, Yukio?! Why didja push me into the water and why did you give it to Shima?!” Rin shouted as he surged out of the fountain, scattering the water like rain as he grabbed Yukio by the front of his collar to jerk him forward and get in his face. Yukio’s eyes went wide and his face red at the close contact, reminding Rin that he too was under the effects of the potion, and he hastily shoved him away before squatting down on the fountain rim with his face in his hands. “What the hell…”

“You were going to feed me a love potion?!” Shiemi gasped at him, sounding utterly betrayed, and he looked up in alarm.

“I- no- well, technically yes, but- it was just a joke! We were gonna give ‘em to Kamiki and Pazu too!”

“What?!” the purple-haired girl instantly screeched in anger.

“Shut up! You’re making it worse!” Ryuuji snapped at him. Rin obediently clammed up. Shiemi just continued to stand there looking absolutely concerned, her lips pressed tight together with that worried-sad look she often wore. Her gaze slid to Renzo, who was sitting up beside Rin now to clap his hand on his shoulder.

“Hey, Okumura, wanna leave these clowns and go hang out together~?”

“What the hell?!” Rin yowled and leaped from the fountain to run over to Ryuuji, ducking behind his broad frame as he suffered under the shameless Renzo’s advances.

“What? No, don’t hide behind me!” he cried. This gave Izumo the perfect opportunity to force one of the bon-bons down his throat.

“That’ll teach you morons,” she laughed evilly as Ryuuji failed to cough the candy up. Rin tried to escape Ryuuji’s field of vision before the effects of the love potion activated but to no avail. Ryuuji stared at him for a second, then whirled around holding his chest like he was having a heart attack and his eyes shaking.

“Kamiki… I will kill you…”

“Why is it just me?” Rin wailed as he jerked his head back to tug violently at his head. “Yukio, Shima, and now him?! I just wanted to do something instead of study! I promise I’ll be a good student from now on, just make it end!” he wailed to the unforgiving blue sky. Izumo and Pazu were giggling, quite pleased at how it turned out. Shiemi had leaned down to pick up the box of chocolates and was inspecting the ingredients.

“If it’s a natural ingredient, maybe Nee can produce an antidote,” she reasoned. The little Greenman had already been summoned and was sitting on her shoulder, leaned over like it too was reading the packaging, but Rin was quite unsure if the little garden familiar could read.

“Yes, please, Shiemi…” he sighed wearily, drooping from head to tail. He then stiffened when he realized that Ryuuji was standing practically right next to him. “Dude, back off!”

“Shaddup, I’m standing here because I like it, not because I wanna be close to you or nothin’…”

“He’s a tsundere!” Izumo screeched in laughter. Her pigtails flopped around her shaking shoulders as she cocked her head back and pointed at him, cackling like the witch she was.

“Shaddup, Kamiki, this is all your fault!” he snapped back with his shoulders bristling like a cat’s. Rin jumped as Renzo popped up over his other shoulder, batting his lazy eyes at him.

“Go away!” Rin shoved him away by the face.

“Uwaaaaaaah, Rin doesn’t like me…” Renzo pouted and squatted down on the pavement while hugging his knees.

“Damn right! This is all your fault, Shima! I shoulda never gone along with your stupid prank!” he agreed hotly while stamping his feet repeatedly against the ground, making his sword clang around on his back. He whirled on his feet to Shiemi as he eyed his brother staring silently at him. “Shiemi, please tell me you found something!” he begged, nearly at his breaking point.

“Got it! Nee!” The little Greenman jumped up from her shoulder and an herb Rin did not recognize sprouted from his leafy green belly. Shiemi plucked a few sprigs off before distributing them to the affected individuals. “Here, this should work.” Yukio and Ryuuji swallowed it gratefully, but Renzo waved it around in his hand, lips pursed.

“But if I don’t eat it, I’ll be the only one in love with Rin now~”

“Eat it or I’ll make you!” Seeing Rin’s thunderous expression was enough to make him do as bid. The three of them coughed for a few seconds at the bitterness of the herbs before finally looking back up at Rin. “Well?”

“Never speak of this again,” Yukio ordered while again adjusting his glasses, clearly perturbed.

“Agreed,” Ryuuji nodded, then whirled around shaking his fist at Izumo. “What the hell were you thinking, you crazy bitch?! I could kill you for that stunt!” Izumo just sneered while Paku held a hand to her mouth, giggling.

“Why’s everyone so on edge? I thought it was fun!” Renzo chuckled. He reached for the box of chocolates, only to find it had been depleted of its contents. They all simultaneously glanced up to seen none other than the Headmaster perched on the fountain, pushing the last of the bon-bons into his mouth.

“What’s all the fuss?”

“Run!” they all screamed in unison and took off, leaving him in their wake and not even curious as to whom he spied first. They all blasted past Konekomaru as he was arriving back onto campus, knocking the grocery bag from his hand and sending its contents spilling across the cobblestone.

“You guys! What was that for?” Rin heard his whine rapidly fade into the distance, drowned out by the rush of the wind in his pointed ears and the sound of his laughter spilling from his grinning mouth.

“That actually was kinda fun, wasn’t it?”

“Shut up!” came the resounding reply.

Enjoy this oneshot? Feel free to peruse my Table of Contents!

#blue exorcist #rin okumura #ao no exorcist #yukio okumura #okumura rin #okumura yukio #okumura twins #ryuji suguro #suguro ryuji #bon suguro #shima renzo #renzo shima #izumo kamiki #kamiki izumo #shiemi moriyama #moriyama shiemi #pazu #mephisto #mephistopheles #mephisto pheles #konekomaru #konekomaru miwa #miwa konekomaru #fluff #friendship #fun #love potion #oneshot #oneshots #oneshot collection

[fresh-outta-jams]

Of Spells and Spinning Wheels - Part 3

Jin x Reader Author: Mo Summary: You and Jin are childhood friends, betrothed to be married, happily on the path to your happily ever after...until on his twenty-first birthday, Jin is cursed... Note: We’re getting near the end of it, folks! Thanks for being so patient! I love all of y’all. Warnings: None?  Word Count: 2k

1, 2, 3, 4, Epilogue

The clash of Eunwoo’s sword against yours was enough to shock you out of you morning drowsiness, as if a run around the castle’s perimeter hadn’t already. Jin’s birthday was steadily approaching, and this meant a tougher training regiment under Prince Hyojong, who seemed very determined to get you ready for the days ahead. After all, fighting a dragon was no easy feat, even for someone who’d been training every day for years.

Once he saw you were well-adjusted, Jungkook had gone back home to be with his brother and family, leaving you with King Jaesang and his royal court. As a guest of the king, an honorary member of his family, you did have some duties, growing as you spent more and more time in his home instead of your own.

You wrote to your parents when you had time, and you wrote to Jin whenever you could. Since Jaesang’s kingdom was so safe, Namjoon felt better about letting Jin visit from time to time, but it was never for long. You stole kisses in your dwindling minutes together, holding onto each other for as long as you could manage before he had to go back to the forest with whichever fairy guardian had accompanied him. Now, you knew your days were numbered more than ever. On his twenty-fifth birthday, he would finally be going back home, to his kingdom, and you intended on seeing him one last time before you went off to fight Callista and her dragon and break Jin’s curse once and for all.

You knew you’d have to go fight before waking your sweet prince from his slumber because if you did it in the other order, there was no way he would let you leave his side. You hadn’t trained this long to not finish the job and slay the beast. Surely, if Callista heard you broke her curse, she’d come for not only Jin, but you as well. And future you wanted to have with him was dependent on killing his wicked aunt before she could do more harm.

So, you swung your sword, taking a few bold steps forward and narrowly avoiding an attack from the handsome prince in the shining armor. He was good, but after all this time and with everything on the line, you were better. A few attacks and counters later, you held the tip of your sword next to Eunwoo’s neck. Both of you were breathing heavily, shoulders rising and falling with each intake and exhale of air.

“She’s ready.” Hyojong determined with a proud grin. Eunwoo smiled and you both lowered your weapons, putting them away so each of the other nights could give you one last hug before you started packing your things.

You could only hope he was right.

***

To say Jin woke up on the day before his twenty-fifth birthday with a certain feeling of dread was an understatement. The night before, he had finally arrived back at his castle. It was like walking into a stranger’s room when he opened the doors to his chambers. It was too clean, like no one had touched anything in years. He could hardly catch a wink of sleep in a bed that had once felt like the only safe place to him.

Though he supposed that was a lie. In all of those years in his perfect castle, his safe place was never his bed, it was in his lover’s arms. She wasn’t set to arrive to see him until the next day, and he could only hope she’d get there in time to see him before he drifted off to sleep. He had no doubt in his mind that if anyone could break the curse on him, it would be her.

The day trudged on pretty slowly. The prince tried to busy himself with reuniting with everyone in the castle, but even then, the hours seemed to drag, and as each one passed, Jin felt a dizzy haze slowly coming over him. He didn’t realize what it was, this feeling pulling and pulling at him, but he was having trouble sitting through dinner, picking at his food, but not really interested in much. By the time the meal ended, Namjoon had been watching their frazzled prince for a while, and once Jin finally excused himself, the green-clad guardian waited a few minutes before excusing himself as well and following after him, concern building in the center of his chest, heavy and growing heavier the further he wandered through the halls without sight of Seokjin.

Meanwhile, Jin wasn’t quite sure where he was going. He wasn’t entirely positive he’d ever been to this part of the castle before. The walls all had this eerie green glow, and his footsteps seemed to echo too much, bouncing off of the stone, beckoning him further and further into the depths of these twisting halls. There was something deep inside him, thorns wrapped around his soul, that kept pulling him on, no matter how much the little voice in the back of his head told him to stop.

By this point, all three of his fairy guardians had left the dining hall and were searching for their prince, distressed when they didn’t find him in his chambers or the library or the kitchens or the stables or any of the other places he frequented. They were becoming desperate, worried that the longer he was gone, the worse of a state they would find him in when someone finally located him.

They knew, deep down, that they were running out of time.

At this point, Jin was positive he had never been to this part of the castle. Never once in his years of exploring every inch of the place with his beloved and their friends on their childhood adventures had he ever seen this hallway that stretched and stretched, only seeming to get longer the further he walked down it. The light coming from the end of it was unmistakably green, and he couldn’t resist walking toward it. It called to him like a beacon, awakening the slumbering curse that had festered deep inside him for the past four years.

After what seemed like eternities, Jin finally reached the end of the hallway to find an innocent looking spinning wheel, the tip of its sharp needle gleaming bright and green. Suddenly, the prince found the tip of his index finger was unbearably itchy, burning, and throbbing. When he examined it, the skin felt rubbery to his touch, and it was discolored, tinted with the same green of the cursed needle.

Something in his fuzzy mind clicked. He stared at the sharp point with his hazy, half-lidded eyes and reached forward, finger extended.

“SEOKJIN, NO!!!” Namjoon called from the end of the hall, breaking into a sprint. Hoseok and Yoongi were quick behind him, running as fast as they could, but they weren’t fast enough, and they knew it.

Jin punctured his finger on the sharp point of the spinning wheel’s needle, a single drop of blood blossoming from the hole before the strength in Jin’s legs disappeared and he collapsed in a heap on the stone floor.

When his fairy guardians finally reached him, their hearts sank as they looked over their sleeping prince. It was too late. Now all they could do was wait for his princess in shining armor.

***

Something heavy and dark came over you the morning you were set to arrive at Jin’s castle. You’d been traveling for a few days, and this was the day you’d finally get to see him again: his birthday. And yet, the dark shadow that had cast itself over your soul told you something you were hoping wouldn’t be true: Jin had indeed fallen victim of his curse.

So, with a new determined vigor, you mounted your horse and took off towards the horizon, racing against time to get to the castle and see him for yourself.

It seemed like the forests of Jin’s kingdom would never end as your horse sprinted through them. The paths stretched on for ages, and you were certain the castle would never come into view, but eventually it did, its glistening towers and stained glass windows calling out to you like a second home. Growing up, you always knew you’d end up there, Jin’s wife and queen. Now, you weren’t sure if that fate would ever come to be. You were terrified of the things to come. There were so many ways in which they could go wrong.

You rode through the gates and up to the grand entrance, dismounting from your horse and taking off your helmet. All of the castle guards knelt down at the sight of you, your long (h/c) tresses tumbling down your shoulders. Until this moment, they hadn’t known it was you that was riding towards their castle, instead mistaking you for any other knight from King Jaesang’s kingdom. You stormed through the halls, up the stairwells, and finally, you stopped in front of Jin’s chamber doors, where Yoongi was posted, keeping out unwanted visitors while Namjoon and Hoseok were busy trying to cast a counter-curse within.

“Where is he?”

“You’re too late.” Yoongi told you, exhaustion deep in his tone. “He pricked his finger last night after dinner.”

“I knew it…” You whispered, shaking your head. You knew deep down that you wouldn’t get to see him one last time before you embarked on what would quite possibly be the last adventure of your life.

“Hoseok and Namjoon are in there now, working on Plan B.”

“And Plan A is…”

Yoongi looked up at you and you caught the knowing glimmer in his eye once again. You’d suspected things when he’d set up a loophole to the curse in the first place. You’d suspected things again when you were able to find the little cottage tucked into the woods. Though the two of you weren’t open about it, Jin’s guardian in blue had known about your secret love affair all along, and he had been pulling the strings from the beginning.

“Plan A has always been you.”

You didn’t bother opening the door to walk into his chambers. You knew what you had to do before you could wake your precious prince was as important as waking him. There was a dragon to slay, a witch to kill, and then, if you survived everything that stood in your way, you would finally, finally get your happy ending.

“Yoongi…” You smiled softly, looking at your old friend for what you hoped wouldn’t be the last time. “Keep him safe until I get back, okay?”

“Of course.” Yoongi nodded. He reached for the sword that was fastened to your belt, and you handed it to him. “Let me enchant this before you go, alright?”

“Thank you.”

Yoongi summoned a shower of blue sparks from his fingertips and let them wash over the length of your blade, changing it. The sharp edges grew sharper, the strong steel grew stronger, and the trusty hilt grew trustier. Once he was done with the sword, he pressed a hand to the center of your chestplate, letting his magic strengthen the metal there, too. There were lots of vital organs you’d need during and after the fight, and you’d be better off with them in tact.

“I believe in you.” He told you. “I’ve always believed in you. He does too. And he needs you to come home in one piece, alright?”

“I’ll do my best.” You promised, heart beating steadfast, preparing for the dark journey that laid in your wake. “The kingdom needs its prince.” Then, quieter, “and so do I...”

Yoongi offered one last supportive look before you reattached your sword to your belt and turned around, walking back down the stairs and out of the castle. You were scared, yes, but some small part of yourself, some little voice in the back of your head was determined. You were going to save Jin if it was the last thing you did.

Tagged: @iie-wakarimasen, @demonic-meatball, @backtonormalthings, @filtermono, @seokjin-the-hufflepuff, @ifntelyinspirit, @chaotic-joon

#armyofwriters #kpopwonderlandtag #btsprotectnet #jin x reader #jin imagine #seokjin x reader #seokjin imagine #disney au #bts imagine #fantasy #kim seokjin

[witchqueenofthemoon]

BODY AND SOUL Part 14 (Duncan Shepherd/Mackenzie Stone Millory AU)

BODY AND SOUL MASTERPOST

Author’s Note: I think this is the longest chapter yet; there was so much I wanted to see through Kenzie’s eyes here. For those of you who live for tiny details like I do: this is Duncan’s pepper mill. These are his glass coffee mugs. This is his beard oil. This is the dress Kenzie wears on this day. Harris is an Axeman/Danny Huston AU; mostly a Danny AU, as I promise he is not an axe murderer in this universe. I just love Danny and thought he’d make a perfect bodyguard, he’s huge and he will lay hands on anyone who tries to touch Kenzie, amen, Expect him regularly for the rest of this story. Duncan’s grandmother Adelaide is a Fiona Goode/Jessica Lange AU. Here’s WHATEVER LOLA WANTS. Here’s the photo of Carrie I based the one in Kenzie’s bathroom mirror on; her clothing is different, but that’s the expression I imagine she has in it. Golden Pothos look like this and make good indoor plants as they need very-little-to-no sunlight. Nancy Pearlstein’s boutique relish is real, but I took some creative liberties (the back room where Nancy put the rack for Kenzie is made up, and I have no idea what Nancy is like in real life; I made up a personality for her here, though her appearance is genuine) and found the model clothing for Kenzie’s shopping on Neiman Marcus’ website--her comment that Kenzie’s like a little piece of cake I borrowed from a similar line in Sofia Coppola’s Marie Antoinette. This is the dress Duncan and Kenzie ultimately decide on for the dinner with Annette (soon to come); here are the others Kenzie liked the most: 1, 2, 3, and the red one that sends Duncan over the edge (don’t worry, she’ll get a chance to wear it soon): 4.  The way Kenzie hoists herself onto the counter to reach the cabinet is the way I hoist myself onto our counter to reach the extra coffee k-cups at the top of the cabinet. Here are Duncan’s champagne coupes. Kenzie and Claire dancing to Seven Wonders is obviously a nod to Stevie’s iconic music video towards the end of Coven. I wanted to mention that I plan to upload the entire fic to AO3 when it’s finished; Tumblr’s tags algorithm is absolute shit when it comes to fics, and this one continually will not show up under them for whatever godforsaken reason, so I’ve kind of given up on reaching a wider audience for it here, but I also feel strongly that I want it to be done before I put it up there so as not to be influenced too much by other people’s thoughts or desires regarding my story; I love all the feedback I’ve gotten from those of you who are following along, but I do want to stay true to my own objectives. Those of you who continue to shower it with love: I see you. You are absolutely the best. Mackenzie and Annette will finally meet in the next chapter. 

“You should put something up on this wall,” Kenzie said, staring at the blank stretch along the corner where the boxes of her belongings were neatly stacked in Duncan’s room (my room, I can’t believe it yet, my room too), sitting cross-legged on Duncan’s bed (my bed), her back to him. Duncan’s left hand was falling along Kenzie’s back, gently rubbing, feeling the rise of her under the tee-shirt with the tips of his fingers, his face turned down to his phone’s glowing screen in his right.

“We should. You live here now, baby, this is your space too.”

Kenzie swung her legs down and went over to the boxes; she was wearing the Led Zeppelin tee again (mine now, smiling to herself), her damp hair, brushed out, over her shoulder. She leaned down and opened one, looking for the telltale greenery of her little plants and succulents; this box had some of her jewelry boxes and lots of pairs of socks and stockings in it. She moved to the next one, letting out a little delighted “aha!”, pulling out one of her falling sedum morganianum in its little terra cotta pot from the box, cradling it in her hands, standing, gazing down at it happily for a moment.

“I didn’t tell Momby I’m moving in here,” she said, glancing over her shoulder to Duncan, who was propped up against the slats of the headboard with his black pillows between his back and the wall, one of his bare legs outside of the cover up to his thigh, slightly raised, his chest bare and rising slowly, contentedly, damp hair on his forehead. He was still looking down at his slender black iPhone, smiling at something now. He looked up at her, the smile playing there still. So beautiful. Archangel. Hades. My dark Prince.

“It’s fine, baby. You’ll tell her when you feel ready to tell her. I understand. Everything is going to be fine...because we’re together, and that’s what matters.”

Kenzie smiled across the room at him; then she shivered a little, cheeks warm, remembering the flashes of thought she had imagined she heard from him before and during their passionate fucking; If I’m a Prince, you’re a Goddess, and I will go to your temple to lay down all my sorrows and my sins and my fear, and all my devotion...

How could I have heard his thoughts, though, she wondered again. Could that have been me pretending to hear his thoughts? Why would I do that? Why would I call myself a goddess?...are we really hearing each other’s thoughts? How the fuck is that even possible? I can’t even think about this right now, I don’t understand how that could happen...that’s just...impossible.

“What are you looking at, baby?” She asked him, pushing the thought away, stepping to the bed on her bare feet. She set the succulent carefully on the nightstand on her side (my side, my fucking side, my side of the bed, oh my god) of the bed, and Duncan pouted a little at her, his mouth turning down at the corners. “I want one on my side too,” he said, his voice sweet and low and tingling at the back of her head. She leaned down over the bed to kiss him; he lifted his mouth up to her, hand falling into her damp hair; then she picked the succulent up and walked around to his side, setting it carefully next to his smooth alarm clock. “There, no more whining.” He laughed a little, reaching out and brushing the succulent’s spindly, bulbous leaves gently, then lifted the screen of his phone up to her eyes.

Duncan had the Instagram app open on it, and on his profile he’d just posted a photo: oh my god, a photo of me, Kenzie gasped a little, snatching it out of his hands as he continued to grin at her with his perfect teeth, a misbehaving sheen in his blue eyes. Yep, that’s me. Duncan had clearly taken it a moment ago when she’d been looking at her succulent; her head was turned down and her damp hair fell around her face, a little smile around her mouth, her eyes gazing at the plant clutched in her hands, the big Led Zeppelin shirt falling off one of her shoulders, its hem at the middle of her thigh, bare legs stretching down out of the photo. My love @kenzielouwho and our little plant baby, he’d typed, adding the little sprouting green leaf emoji at the end and the double-pink hearts.

“Oh my god, baby,” she breathed, unable to conceal the grin that fell across her face, bringing her hand up to cover her mouth, gazing down at the photo, dazed. He’d posted it only a moment ago; it had already racked up 1,200 likes and hundreds of comments...that she dared not look at. “Everyone is gonna freak the fuck out. Your mom is gonna kill you.”

“I guess I’ll die happy, then,” he answered, and reached for her, grabbing onto the hem of the tee-shirt, pulling her against him, burying his face in the space between her little breasts through the fabric, wrapping his long arms around her. “...I just want everyone to know.” She felt his lips press against her as he murmured the last part into the fabric, his eyes closed, breathing her in, and Kenzie was filled to the brim with a delicate tenderness for him, terrible in its softness, bringing a lump into her throat. “Oh, baby,” she whispered. “I do, too.” They stayed that way for a moment, his arms around her, his face pressed into her body, her hand coming up and falling through his hair, still holding his phone in her other one; I love his hair, I love it so, like the sheen of coppery autumn leaves, the warm, dark embers of a fading fire, the way he smells, like wood and jasmine soap and musky smoke...

After the quiet stretch, Duncan lifted his eyes up to her; they were like the sky after a storm, gray shot with bursts of brilliant blue. “Should we get the rest of your things tomorrow? I can clear my schedule. I don’t want you to go to your apartment alone, bodyguard or no. I want to help.”

“Okay. I’ll email Candice I need to work from home tomorrow. My article’s done anyway. I was thinking we could have Claire over for dinner--I miss her, and I’d love for her to see the penthouse.”

“That sounds perfect.” He let go of her and she slipped his phone back into his large palm, sliding the underside of her hand against his, his eyes flickering over her face. “I already contacted the security detail service, they’re sending someone over here tomorrow morning. If you don’t like them, we’ll find someone else, okay? We’ll find the perfect person. And it’ll only be for a little while, this will calm down soon--I’m sure of it.”

“You making Instagram posts like that isn’t going to calm anyone down anytime soon, babe.” Kenzie grinned, though, feeling the smile dissolve down into her body, making her shiver; she picked her phone up from the nightstand (it was on his side) and opened her email, sending a few lines out to Candice, setting the phone down again, willing herself not to look at Instagram. “...But I do want everyone to know that you’re mine. Prince Duncan Shepherd and his pauper mistress.”

“Kenzie, no. Don’t call yourself that.” His eyes went dark, a frown creasing his beautiful face, a shadow falling across him. “You belong here. You, beside me. This is your world now, too. Everything I have is yours. Anything you want. Everything you’ve ever wanted.”

Kenzie said nothing, suddenly feeling frozen under that gaze; so sure, as definite as the expanse of some ancient wilderness, some high mountain peak, the depth of some unutterable ocean. You truly are my Dark Prince of the Underworld, she thought. You have such depth, a well of hidden light, but you can be terrible, terrible in your beauty, terrible in your resolve, terrible in your determination, and in your will. Like a King. Like a God of Hidden Places, a God of Gold, the God of a Shadowed Realm, your crown heavy, your eyes like blue flames.

“I was telling Madeline something important tonight, Kenzie, while you were in the bathroom.” Duncan planted his feet on the floor, sitting on the edge of the bed, pushing the cover off him, bringing his hands down to the edges of the mattress at his sides, looking down at the floor. His gaze floated up, to her feet, her legs, the tee-shirt covering her little body, the incline of her arms, up into her face, her eyes, down the fall of her hair. “I’m going to tell you now, too. My Uncle Bill is sick. He has terminal malignant prostate cancer, and his diagnosis at this time is six months...and that’s with chemo. When he dies, my mother is going to make me her partner in the company; I know she’s going to do this, for absolute certain, regardless of what my Uncle ultimately wants. That means all of my Uncle’s shares pass on to me. 65% of the company will be mine...billions of dollars, ten different major publications, a major television outlet, a foundation pulling in massive revenue, an accredited dance school that will soon expand into four new sectors, a public investment firm, twenty of the largest manufacturing companies in the United States…” Duncan trailed off, and Kenzie realized she’d stopped breathing.

“I plan on consulting with your mother regarding how best to proceed with this new responsibility ethically, Kenzie...and with you. I want to shift the direction and objectives of Shepherd Unlimited. And I plan on attempting to build a bridge, an understanding, between the company and President Underwood. And...I want to buy the Post, the better to protect it...and to protect you.”

“Duncan. Oh, baby. I…I--” Kenzie didn’t realize it, but her hands had come up to her mouth, covering it, her eyes wide and stunned. I knew the Shepherds were rich...I guess I didn’t really understand what that meant, though. Not really. I guess I still don’t, but I’m getting an idea.

“And I want to give you everything you’ve ever wanted. Because your joy is my joy, and your happiness is my happiness now, and...only your contentment will make me content. Only your light--”

Kenzie rushed into his arms--she stopped his mouth with an urgent kiss, not being able to bear the quivering edge in his voice. “I am happy, baby, because I found you, I found you, my dearest love--” she whispered this into his mouth, and his eyes closed, and Kenzie felt she could feel the wave of relief that flooded off him, down through her body; a wave like the slow passage of time all at once, the eons of ages condensed into the relief of one moment, and he brought his arms around her and pulled her down to him, tossing her into the bed, and his kisses rained all over her face and her neck and her hair, her eyelids, her cheeks, her mouth.

“I think we should get a mirror for this room,” Duncan whispered into her as he pressed the fervent, warm kisses into her. “I wanna see us when we fuck…you’re so beautiful, I just wanna see every inch of you, I wanna see your face when I’m fucking you from behind--”

Kenzie blushed, biting down hard on her lip, lifting her neck the better to feel his mouth there, sending little pinpricks of sensation up and down her skin. His hands (those hands) were flitting down to her thighs, pressing, hot and so soft, suggesting their desire and promising all they could do to her, I was thinking about that tonight, how did you know, I thought that when I was in your lap and I was forcing your head back and gripping your throat because telling you what to do thrilled me and I wanna do it more and I wanna be your Goddess who you lay down your devotion to, baby, I wanna see us fuck, too-- “Fuck, baby, shhhh, don’t talk that way or you’re gonna make me want you again--”

“I always want you, since I saw you standing on that balcony all I’ve wanted is you, all I can think about is you, you looked like an angel and you are an angel, Kenzie, how did I get so lucky, how am I so blessed to be near you--” Duncan brought one long-fingered hand to the side of her face, into that crook of her jaw and ear, his favorite spot, to hold me. She leaned into his fingers, closing her eyes, overwhelmed by the wildfire in his, the coiled brightness, the depth of him.

“We must have done something really good in the life before this one...or something really hard. Or something...painful. And this...is our reward for all that suffering.” Kenzie’s voice began to drift, to rise and fall--as soon as she’d closed her eyes she realized how tired she was, how sleep was pushing at the corners of her mind; and a wave washed over her, one that wanted nothing more than to sleep in the arms of her lover, held under the shadow of the night--there was a new moon tonight, the new cycle, the new beginning, a new doorway opening--a time of change, auspicious, and our new destiny falling into place, the wind of Fate pushing us on into this new life…

“Baby, let’s go to sleep,” Duncan brought his hand down her arm, to the dip of her waist, his nose pressing into her long golden-brown hair, breathing her in. “Sleep, and no alarms for tomorrow.”

“Yes, please,” Kenzie murmured, and her voice sounded tiny and far-away to her. She felt Duncan get up beside her for a moment, his hands pulling away (“come back, hold me,” she heard herself say, and he replied “I will, baby, I will”) and the lamp on his side of the bed switched off, darkness falling behind her eyelids, and they were bathed in thick shadow, only the vague glow of the city somewhere behind them giving the room any iridescence. Kenzie opened her eyes a little, and could see the outline of Duncan (tall, standing in just his black briefs, hair over his forehead, long arms reaching down), plugging her phone into the charger beside the bed (I’m always forgetting to do that, he’s so thoughtful) and he turned to her, his eyes glowing in the dark, as if they were truly made of blue flames, lighting shadowed places, like Hades on his throne of bones, staring down his dark hall.

“I keep imagining you have flowers in your hair,” he said to her softly, climbing in beside her, pulling the blanket and sheet over them, his hand coming up to tuck strands of hair behind her ear, resting his fingers in that little space again for a moment. Kenzie turned her back to him so she was nestled into the crook of his body, his form, much larger than her, enveloping her like a cocoon, his chest pressed into her, his face coming against her hair, his arm, crooked, coming to the center of her body, his hand reaching between her breasts, possessively. “So many flowers, like a crown, petals drifting down through the waves of it...I keep seeing you that way, and you look so beautiful...Kenzie, I love you...”

“I love you too, Duncan, I love you…” And Kenzie felt herself drift away, her fingers twined through his between her breasts, into the shadow of sleep.

------

Kenzie woke to soft sunlight falling over the bed, and Duncan’s spot empty beside her, her face buried in the pillow, her head foggy with the depth of her sleep. As soon as she lifted it up, though, she could hear soft strains of lo-fi electronic music coming from the kitchen and front room (call your friends, I’ll call mine...we’ll head out for a long ride...sun is coming out now...it all feels right), and smell the savory, dark sweetness of coffee and butter and fat in a frying pan. Kenzie rubbed her eyes--in her dream she’d been leaning over Claire, who was unconscious, on the white floor of some gigantic house. Claire had been choking...and Kenzie had leaned over her and opened her and pulled the piece of food out of her neck that had been choking her. What a strange dream, Kenzie thought, shaking her head back and forth, locks of golden-fawn hair falling over her shoulder. That dream didn’t make any sense. How could I open Claire’s skin that way? Ugh, weird. The dream had already begun to slip away from her, and Kenzie was glad to let it go. The dream had left her with a funny, sour feeling in the back of her throat, and she swallowed, willing the taste away.

Kenzie lifted her legs onto the floor on Duncan’s side of the bed, reaching for her phone, opening her email. Candice had replied; Everything’s all set for your article. Good luck with everything, let me know if you need my help with anything. Ben won’t stop talking about getting an interview with Duncan. Make sure he knows what he’s getting into there!

Kenzie went out of her email, to her text messages; Clairebear. Mom.

Clairebear: Oops, I was so bothered about those BPF links that I forgot to reply to your request to have me for dinner! OF COURSE I WANT TO SEE DUNCAN’S FUCKING PENTHOUSE, what should I bring tonight? How did everything go with your Mom?

Kenzie typed. Bring your beautiful self only!!! You should see how much wine Duncan has, and every bottle is probably worth hundreds of dollars. It’s insane. We’ll order takeout or something, I need to make sure Duncan eats regular human food, not just foie gras and shit like that all the time, and this is a good litmus test (I’m kidding, he loved my chicken and dumplings and ate salmon last night, but still). EVERYTHING WITH MOMBY WENT SO WELL, I honestly can’t believe it, she loved him so fucking much??? She’s ready to marry him herself, I think. She hugged him and they drank each other under the table. Clairebear, it made me so fucking happy.

Kenzie looked at the other text, this one from her mother.

Mom: I love you so much, sweet pea. I’m sorry I doubted you. Duncan is a dream, but you knew that. Your safety and your happiness are at the center of my world. Steel yourself against Annette. I worry she won’t be as easy to convince as I am. Duncan knows her; he’ll know that, too. Be the brave Kenzie I love so well. Love you to the moon and back. Give Duncan a squeeze for me.

I love you too, Momby, so much. I’ll put on my journalist poker face for her. You know the one, Kenzie typed, standing as she did, softly stepping out through the living room to the kitchen, looking up. Duncan was at his slick silver electric stove, gently pushing at two eggs sizzling in a shiny copper frying pan. He heard her; or sensed her, Kenzie wasn’t sure--he glanced over his shoulder, smiling immediately as he met her eyes.

“Good morning, baby,” he said. “Did you sleep okay?”

“Mmhmm,” she smiled back at him, clutching her phone. “Weird dreams, though. What time is it?”

“Ten after 9.”

“Wow, I can’t believe I slept so long...Momby was texting me. She said I need to give you a squeeze.” Kenzie padded to him on the balls of her bare feet, wrapping her arms around his back to his stomach, and clenched them. Duncan’s hands were still at the frying pan, but he reached his neck around to bring his face to hers, lips falling into her hair, then to her cheek, then with aching softness to her lips, lingering for a moment, then turning back to the eggs.

“Tell her I said hello, I hope her ride with Samuel went well.”

Kenzie let go of Duncan reluctantly, adding these things to the end of the text, then hitting send. She turned towards the long black obsidian island in the center of the kitchen, glancing up at the diamond-drop chandelier, glinting in the early sunlight, then back down; on the table was a carton of fresh strawberries, two coffees, and two orange juices, and two plates with slabs of crispy turkey bacon, waiting quietly for the eggs he was making. Kenzie reached out and grabbed one of the strawberries, bringing it eagerly to her mouth, biting into it so a stream of juice fell down her chin. Ugh, this is the best strawberry I have ever fucking had, she thought. Everything tastes better lately. Everything looks brighter, more beautiful, music sounds better...Kenzie sat at the island, turning back to look at Duncan at the stove, admiring the fall of his hair in the sunlight, the concentrated look in his blue eyes as he flipped one of the eggs over with a deft flick of his wrist, his tongue darting out to lick his bottom lip.

“Claire texted me too, about coming over for dinner later. I can’t wait to see her…what time should I tell her? 7?”

“7 sounds perfect, we should be done with finding your escort and coordinating with the movers by then. I’m looking forward to spending more time with her. I know she’s important to you.  ”

Duncan was still looking down at the eggs, but Kenzie could hear the tender tinge in his voice; the sweetness extending out towards her. He means it. His sweetness takes my breath away. I wonder if the other people in his life see that sweetness, or care about it.

“Thank you for being so wonderful, Duncan.” Kenzie looked up into Duncan’s face as he came around her side, sliding the eggs onto her place deftly, lifting the hot pan carefully away from her. Dark stubble rose along his cheeks; Duncan wore a soft black tee shirt and black sweatpants, and he looked far too beautiful at this early time of day to be real, his hair slightly mussed in sleep but still looking deliberately styled, somehow, his tall form leaning down to kiss her forehead. He smelled like musky sleep and coffee and the smoke from the stovetop and Kenzie wanted to pull his neck into her face and breathe deeply, like he was oxygen.

“Baby...I’d do anything for you. I told you that, and I meant it, and I’ll say it as much as I need to, I’ll do everything I can, until you believe me.” Duncan said this so matter-of-factly, one would think he had been commenting on the weather, the bright May morning, the temperature outside, the driving conditions. He was looking at her, the frying pan still in his hand, a spatula in the other. Kenzie was struck again by an enveloping tide of affection for him; she felt suddenly unable to speak, mistiness coating her eyes as they stared at each other; she grabbed a piece of the turkey bacon instead, lifting it into her mouth, lowering her gaze away from him, too overcome to stare into his piercing blue gaze any longer. It was perfect; just a little bit burnt, just how she liked it.

She could feel Duncan still staring at her for another moment, then he turned back to the stove, cracking two more eggs into the pan with one hand, carefully discarding the shells in his steel sink for now, twisting a smooth, coppery pepper mill that was sitting on the counter beside the stove over the eggs. “The service detail is sending their candidate at 10:30, baby. I know I said this already, but if you don’t like them, we’ll find someone else. We’ll find someone who makes you feel comfortable, no matter what.”

Kenzie shoved the rest of the bacon into her mouth, fighting off the urge to cry. No crying today, Kenz, she scolded herself. Today is good vibes only. “Okay, baby,” she murmured, grasping the handle of her coffee cup (it was made of glass, the most beautiful coffee cup I’ve ever seen, she thought, how did I not notice these cups the first time I drank coffee Duncan made me, that first morning, I was in a daze), sipping carefully at the steaming liquid. “I feel nervous about it.”

“I’m here. Everything is gonna be fine. These people are the best at what they do. The absolute best. They’ve been protecting my mother for decades, her mother before that. My grandmother, Adelaide Shepherd, she was an absolute force of nature, but she needed a detail, too. Once, a man tried to blow her up with a pipe-bomb he’d hidden in his sock.”

“Oh my god, really?”

“Yep. And that was in the ‘60’s, when that sort of thing was less common.”

“Was she okay?”

“Oh, yeah. She refused to cancel any of her schedule that day, so the story as told by my mother goes. And her detail was unharmed, they managed to wrestle the pipe-bomb away from him and throw it out of range of any civilians. And that’s the same service that’s sending someone for you today. They are truly the best...almost uncannily so.”

Duncan came back over to the island, sliding his own eggs onto his plate (done over medium just like mine, that’s such a stupid small little thing but I love that he likes his eggs the same way) and walking back over to the sink to place the scalding pan into it.

“When we go to your apartment, Kenz, there are going to be paps there. They’re going to shout questions at you, and you’re going to want to answer them. I know the feeling. Sometimes I reply when I really shouldn’t. Do whatever you need to to ignore them. I’ll be there right beside you. They want to get a rise out of you, piss you off enough that you’ll say something. Don’t give them the satisfaction.” Duncan had come back around behind her, his arms coming down over her shoulders, his lips pressing into her hair again, his mouth moving against her head. “It doesn’t matter what anyone thinks or says. I love you. Please remember that.”

Kenzie nodded under the pressure of his touch, still feeling too overwhelmed to speak beyond a trembling “I love you too, baby”, stabbing her fork into the eggs. She noticed her phone light up with another text; Mom. Samuel is an angel from the highest heaven, I loved him immediately.  Kenzie smiled widely and held her phone up to Duncan’s eyes so he could see. Duncan grinned. “Absolutely true.”

He sat across from her, pushing one long hand through his hair, picking up a slab of the bacon between two fingers (oh thank god, Kenzie thought, you don’t use a fork for your bacon, because that’s just wrong), ripping it hungrily with his teeth. His eyes came up to her, into hers, around the oval of her face; Kenzie was struck for what felt like the thousandth time by the beauty of his eyes, sapphiric in this light, glittering with depth and emotion. She reached her hand out, almost involuntarily, and Duncan twined his fingers around hers, his expression one of open affection and happiness. I wonder if the other people in his life get to see this Duncan, she wondered again. This open, loving soul. I want to hold it, hold him, with gentle hands.

“I love this. Eating breakfast. With you.” Kenzie bit her lip, the words drifting across the island towards him, over his skin. Duncan was silent for a moment, a little nod cascading down his head. Then he said, “I’m happier than I have ever been in my entire life, here, with you, Kenzie.” And she knew he meant it. She lifted the glass coffee cup to her mouth again, blowing carefully, too speechless to reply, so she sipped again, her eyes lifting up to him over the rim. Duncan had brought his hand to his chin, along the bottom of his lip, glancing back and forth between her and his plate now, and then over to his phone as a text lit up the screen. Kenzie peered. Mom. She couldn’t make out the message.

“Mom wants us to meet her at a bar called Plume tomorrow, around 6,” Duncan said, turning his phone over, not looking at the text. “It’s inside the Jefferson Hotel. Kenzie...Annette can be...very particular about appearances. This is a first impression, so she’s going to be particularly critical of you. You were blessed with a warm mother, but my mother is...a politician and a businesswoman, first and foremost. It’s made her inclined to be cold.”

Kenzie reached for another strawberry, pushing the hair that had fallen into her cheek behind her ear. “Mr. Shepherd, are you saying you need to approve of what I’m wearing?”

“I love your clothes, Kenzie. They’re a part of you, and I can see that. But my Mom doesn’t know you yet. She will judge you immediately, and I just want it to be fairly. I was thinking we could go to the shops after we’re done coordinating with the movers and find you a dress that will satisfy her. And I have my own selfish reasons…” Duncan turned her hand over gently, and dragged a thumb down her palm, suggestively. “I’d love to see you try things on.”

“Normally, Mr. Shepherd, if you were anyone else, I’d tell you to go fuck yourself.”

She could see Duncan trying not to smile, his thumb still pressing into her hand, achingly warm.

“But seeing as I do want to make a good impression on your mother, and you’re suggesting you’re buying me more clothes...if you insist.”

“I do insist, Miss Stone.” He pulled her hand towards him, leaning to her over the island, his energy suddenly hungry, but not for food, longing and intense. Kenzie hovered up for a moment, dipping her mouth down to him, her lips sucking at his bottom lip for the briefest moment, falling away as she leaned back into her seat. He tried to come after her, his head arching into the space where she’d been a moment before, and Kenzie giggled with delight. I could kiss him all fucking day, forever and ever, and he’d still want more. How fucking wonderful is that. Duncan went back to his seat, reluctant, eyes roving down her hair to her bare shoulder peeking from the shirt. Kenzie glanced behind her at the clock over the stovetop. “Oh, fuck, it’s 10 already, we should get dressed, baby.”

“Or I could just watch you get dressed…” Kenzie had jumped up from her seat, a strawberry clenched in her teeth, trying to skirt past him towards the bedroom, but Duncan’s hands grabbed her at the waist and pulled her against him, lips at her neck, and she yelped, hand coming up to the strawberry in her mouth and bringing her hand to his cheek, pressing it into his lips instead. Duncan bit at it and Kenzie brought her mouth against his again, loving the sweet taste of the fruit lingering there, the wetness of his mouth, his hand coming up to cup around her breast, possessive. “Or I could undress you…”

Kenzie twisted out of his arms, (fuck, I love teasing him this way), smiling at him over her shoulder as she slipped away. “I’ll just go to dinner naked, your mom will love that.”

“Fuck, baby…” Duncan stood, his eyes clouding with lust, coming after her as she ran into the bedroom, into the closet, purposefully trapping herself in the corner as he advanced on her; Hades takes Persephone down to the Underworld, she thought; it flickered through her mind, then was gone. Duncan pressed her into the corner, near where his leather jackets hung in a pristine, dark-smelling row, his arms coming down around her waist to her hips (he’s so much taller than me, fuck, I’ll never get over it) and lifted her up into his mouth, his hands coming around the back of her thighs, the shirt riding up so her bare ass pressed to the cold plaster there. “I just want to kiss you all day, all day, baby, I want to go back to bed all day with you and worship you…” His murmurs slipped between his kisses, like smoke around her mind.

“Duncan, we really do need to get dressed,” Kenzie whispered into him, elated, between his lips. “Put me down.”

“No.”

“Do as I say, baby.”

Duncan let out a little whine of protest, but lifted her down with aching softness, so she stood, trapped in his arms in the corner of his walk-in closet, her head barely reaching his shoulder, looking up into his eyes.

“Later. I promise. Later, you can worship me.”

He pressed his head down against hers, hair falling across his forehead, arms holding her with coiled, hungry strength. Kenzie’s heart fluttered wildly between her breasts; that’s all I want too, to stay in bed with you and fall into your eyes and disappear into you, the world to fade away in your arms, my beloved, the only One.

“Okay, baby. Okay.”

--------

Today Kenzie had chosen one of the dresses Duncan had retrieved from her apartment yesterday to wear; I’ll have to move everything into Duncan’s closet later, she thought, slipping the rust-colored, long-sleeve shirt-dress over her head, pulling her hair out of the collar, straightening the skirt, buttoning at the torso. The bodyguard is gonna be here soon. God, I hope they’re not horrible. Duncan was in the bathroom, and she could hear the water running, the soft sounds of him picking things up and putting them back down, using the bottles around the sink. She’d already brushed her teeth, standing next to him as he stared down at his phone, typing rapidly (Annette), his own toothbrush dangling from his mouth, his eyes concentrated. I’m sure he’ll tell me, don’t be nosy, Kenz. She ran the cold water into her hands, sucking some into her mouth, gurgling it, her eyes dancing at him. He glanced up and grinned at her; “you are so cute,” he murmured and she jiggled her eyebrows, cheeks bubbled out from the water swirling in her mouth. She spit into the sink. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah. It’s fine. Mom’s angry about the Instagram photo. She’s trying to control the access the media has to...us (me and you, baby). But the sooner everything is out, the sooner it calms down. That’s how it always works. She needs to get used to us and I’m going to do what I can to help speed that along.”

Kenzie couldn’t help but feel little waves of satisfaction; she felt them still as she had slipped on her dress, felt pinpricks of them as she went to the walk-in closet where the Tiffany moon necklace now rested on one of the rising shelves, some of her other necklaces lined carefully beside it (the quartz cluster, the inverted moon choker, memories of the past few days, like the best dreams she’d ever had). She picked it up carefully, unhooking the clasp and closing it around her neck. She gazed down at the moon pendant, fingering it affectionately, then moved to the bathroom; Duncan was rubbing some sort of balm into his jaw, and it smelled wonderful, that woodsy, cedar smell that she was beginning to tie to him so innately. Kenzie was thrilled to see he hadn’t shaved this morning, and the stubble still lined his jaw, darker than yesterday. “I love your stubble,” she said softly, rubbing her kohl pencil under her eyes, just a little, staring at him through the mirror, reaching for the square jar of her perfume, spritzing it around her neck and behind her hair, onto one wrist, rubbing them together.

“I love your perfume. I love your hair and your eyes and your mouth--” Duncan turned to her, reaching for her. She leaned into him, his head falling down against her, eyes closing, arms cradling her. Kenzie looked into the mirror for a moment; her breath caught at the reflection they cast, his much larger, much taller form encompassing her small one, his dark gray high-collared shirt pressing into her rust-colored dress, his dark hair falling into her golden waves, brushed out, falling down her back, his wildly handsome face, almost angelic in this light, leaned against her little one, his full lips next to her slender ones. We look so beautiful together, fuck. He is so beautiful, it makes me want to die right here. My One. My Prince. Beloved. How is he mine.

The bell rang at Duncan’s front door; it was a cadenced chime, a lilt of a doorbell, and it fell over them with a pointed urgency. The world is expecting you. Duncan lifted his head, opened his eyes. “That’s the service.”

“I’ll get it,” Kenzie said, slipping out of his arms, running on bare feet through the bedroom, before he could say anything. She wanted a first impression of this bodyguard without Duncan there; she needed to know how this person would behave around her when he wasn’t around. She stopped, breathless, at the door, pulling it open with a jerk. A handsome, middle-aged white man stood there; he was quite tall, taller than Duncan, Kenzie thought, and broad-shouldered, his eyes bright and sepia, with eyebrows that arched, giving him a mischievous, friendly appearance. His hair was salt-and-peppered, but he wasn’t balding at all, some falling over his forehead, and he wore an immaculate black suit with a crisply pressed white shirt and thin black tie, his long legs extending down to highly polished Oxford shoes; his hands were behind his back, and he towered over her, looking down at her expectantly. The man grinned at her; his smile was wide, open and kind, and Kenzie liked him, instantly. She could see a thin wire extending around the curve of his ear, with a black, rounded end inside his eardrum.

“Thomas Harris, a pleasure. You must be Mackenzie Stone.”

He extended a large hand (he could break my hand off with one jerk, easily, Kenzie thought) and Kenzie slipped her small one into it; his hand was cool, and she could feel the callouses that lined the inside of his palm. This man knows how to hurt someone with his hands, Kenzie knew, immediately. If he has to. But his grip on her was delicate and careful.

“I am. Are you my bodyguard, Mr. Harris?”

The man laughed a little, showing two rows of very straight, very white teeth. “I suppose I am, Miss Stone. I daresay I could easily hoist you over my shoulder and run if need be, also.”

Kenzie grinned. I really like him.

“Most people call me just Harris, Miss. Do you have a preferred title?”

“Mackenzie. Or Kenzie.”

“Very well, Miss Mackenzie.”

“Come in--please.”

Harris stepped through Duncan’s tall doorway, and Kenzie sensed Duncan coming up beside her, his arm snaking around her back for a moment, giving Harris an appraising gaze. He stepped up to the taller man and extended his hand.

“Duncan Shepherd. I heard you were an escort for Adelaide, for a time. Before she passed. I would have been only eight or nine, I’m sorry, I’m afraid I don’t remember.”

“Oh, Adelaide. A firecracker of a woman. A very fine woman, indeed. I still think of her sometimes...I miss that smile terribly some days.” Harris nodded in deep recognition. “I always thought she was far too great a woman to die. I’m still surprised she isn’t here. Thomas Harris, at your service.” The two men shook hands; Kenzie saw Duncan stretch his fingers as he lowered his hand back to his side, as if to bring feeling back into them. This man is fucking strong.

“Thank you for saying that. I feel lucky to have known her for a short time. There’s another woman in the Shepherd family now, in need of your assistance.” Duncan’s hand came around Kenzie’s arm, his fingers warm and heavy. “It would mean a great deal to me if you would consider this job your most important yet.” Oh my god, in the Shepherd family. Duncan’s phrasing made Kenzie’s heart rebound in her chest, a cool sweat break out at the back of her neck. In the Shepherd family.

“I think I can see why that’s so, Mr. Shepherd.” Harris’ warm gaze fell on Kenzie again, and she smiled at him, shyly. “What a bright soul you are, Miss Stone.”

“Mackenzie, Harris, please. What a lovely thing to say,” she replied, blushing. “I’m so grateful for your help...this is all so new to me and I have to admit, I feel strange about it. It’s comforting to me that you looked after Duncan’s grandmother, though. I wish I could’ve met her.”

“She would have liked you very much, I think, Miss Mackenzie. And it’s perfectly understandable, I think, to feel strange about needing protection in this way. But we live in strange times. I vow to do my utmost to keep you safe. I’ve been doing this job for almost thirty years, and I take great pride in it, if I do say so myself.”

Duncan’s hand was still carefully around Kenzie’s arm; she could feel him gazing at her closely, gauging her reaction to this very tall man who was meant to be her buffer between the outside world and her safety. Kenzie looked up at him, into his storm-colored eyes, and smiled, nodding. He’s good, baby. I like him. I trust him. She hadn’t said it, but somehow felt that Duncan heard her anyway; his face relaxed, and he smiled back at her.

“I understand I’ll be escorting you to work at the Post regularly, and for other activities as you and Mr. Shepherd see fit,” Harris said to Kenzie, looking down at her, attentively; “If you ever feel as though you’d rather do without my presence, I won’t take it harshly--this is your prerogative, of course. I am your escort when you have need of me, and my contract is per-day. Also, I’m required to note that only in the case of a direct threat to your physical safety am I allowed, legally, to use physical force. But I will not hesitate, Miss Mackenzie. You have my word on that.”

Duncan nodded at Harris, gratefully. “Thank you, Harris.” Kenzie bit her lip; a direct threat to your physical safety. She had to admit, the idea of having someone trailing after her constantly was unnerving, but at the same time, the idea of someone protecting her from any unwanted attention was an attractive one. Being a woman is often so scary, and nobody is gonna fuck with me with this gigantic dude next to me, I can’t deny that. And obviously; Duncan couldn’t always be with her. Not that I want that...being away from him makes me miss him, and I like that, too. Those reporters scared the shit out of me, and it would be nice to use the front entrance of my work again. Go with it, Kenzie. Fate is trying to give you a sign again. If this man looked after Duncan’s grandmother, he’ll look after you, too.

“Harris, do you need anything? Water? A coffee?” Kenzie said, moving toward Duncan’s espresso machine.

“Thank you, Miss Mackenzie, but no. I’ll wait for you outside. I see I’ve interrupted your breakfast. I look forward to this partnership, and hope my service to you, Miss Mackenzie, will be satisfactory.” Harris glanced down at the island in Duncan’s (our) kitchen, still littered with the plates and glass coffee cups and orange juice glasses. Then he nodded to them, smartly, and stepped out, the door snapping shut with a clean sound behind him.

Kenzie went to the mat by the door where she’d discarded her shoes last night (running to Momby), picking up one of the brown leather Reagan boots and pulling it onto her foot, then the other one. She felt Duncan come up behind her, his soft hands enveloping the middle of her waist, the incline of her abdomen. “I love him already, baby,” she said, righting herself, turning in his arms. “I didn’t know he was going to be one of the bodyguards your grandmother had.”

“I didn’t know either, honestly, until the detail service texted me this morning. It makes me feel so much better, especially after having met him. God, I feel so relieved.” Kenzie wrapped her arms around Duncan’s neck as he spoke into her, consumed with the tenderness that floated into his eyes as he pressed the incline of his nose and lips into her forehead, picking her up just a little, so her feet lifted off the floor and dangled in midair. “Let’s go get your other things, okay?”

“Yes,” she breathed into him. “Yes, baby, yes, I’m so happy, I’ve never been so happy--” and he spun her around in his arms and pressed his face into her neck and she could feel his smile there, feel the heat coming off his body in a wave that felt like summer sunlight.

------

Harris had sat in the front passenger seat of the BMW, next to Samuel; the two men seemed to hit it off instantly, grinning at each other and delving immediately into a mutually interested conversation about their pasts as escorts, drivers, and military servicemen. “Army,” Harris had said to Samuel as soon as he sidled in next to the Nigerian. “I bet my life on it.” “Right you are, sir, in my native Nigeria, that is. And you are Navy.” How they could tell these things about each other Kenzie had no idea, but their exchange made her smile widely; I love Samuel so much, and if he loves Harris, I know I can trust him. Duncan grasped her hand loosely, languidly, his thumb trailing down the dip of her index finger, into the crook of her skin; he was looking down at his phone, his eyes dark.

“Baby, what is it?” The partition floated up; they were alone, shielded from the eyes of Duncan’s chauffeur and Kenzie’s bodyguard.

“Someone took pictures of us last night at the restaurant,” he said, holding up the open Instagram app on his sleek black iPhone. “I guess...I’m used to people taking pictures of me, but I don’t like them taking pictures of you and Madeline that way.” Kenzie looked down at his phone; the shot was the three of them at their corner table at Busboys last night, a side-view, Madeline holding her Jack and Coke and gazing at Duncan with a bemused expression, Duncan saying something animatedly, Kenzie gazing at him with a small smirk.

“You have to admit, this is a nice picture, baby,” Kenzie said, looking up at him. I love this photo, she thought. I love him and Momby talking together this way. I love them both so much.

“It is. I had a wonderful time with you and your mother last night. I’m so glad she...I’m so glad she likes me.” Duncan’s eyes went into hers, soft, and Kenzie was overcome with the need to hold him, clutch his face in her hands. She gripped his hand, and he held hers tightly in turn. “Of course she does, baby. You’re lovely, and I love you, and I knew she would.”

“I’m sorry right now, Kenzie, if my mother isn’t as lovely to you. Please know, Mackenzie, how much I love you.” Duncan leaned over the seat to her as the BMW travelled towards Dupont Circle; his hand fell down to the moon necklace at her throat, his fingers trailing down its circular diamonds, down between the space of her breasts, to her waist, down the pleats of her long skirt, the lift of her thigh and the space behind her knee. He gripped her at that juncture; he pulled her legs softly into his lap, and Kenzie’s skin broke out into goosebumps at the force of the his gesture, the subservience and desire of it. The car was smooth, low strains of Sarah Vaughan floating through the speakers today (whatever Lola wants, Lola gets, and little man, little Lola wants you...I always get what I aim for, and your heart and soul is what I came for); Kenzie reached into the pocket at the side of her dress, pulling her phone out, opening the Instagram app as Duncan gazed at her in open lust, his hand falling up and down her smooth calf, lazily. The icons at the bottom of the tool bar flashed: 20562 new followers, thousands of new comments and mentions. She went to her most recent post, the one of she’d taken in the office in her moment of abandon, her eyes downcast, fingers on the moon necklace she now truly held her fingers against. He gave me the moon on a string. Over 15,000 likes. And now all of you know he’s mine. Kenzie raised her eyes to Duncan; his hand was on his jaw, thoughtful, pensive, his eyes unwavering from her. Somehow she knew he was thinking about putting a mirror in the bedroom again; a mirror and a hook extending from the ceiling, a hook to extend that long black velvet ribbon from, to tie her up again...

Nope, this is never getting old.

------

As Samuel pulled up to Kenzie’s apartment building, her eyes went wide with disbelief. A huge crowd of paparazzi were milling around outside the buzzer-locked entrance; there were at least ten different cameras and dozens of reporters with microphones and recorders, and they had clearly noticed the BMW coming down the drive; several of the microphones turned eagerly; a crowd of people rushed towards the car.

“Kenzie, stay calm, baby, be calm,” Duncan said to her quietly. She had pulled her legs off his lap immediately, her heart catapulting into her mouth, her phone forgotten, her eyes going wide, clutching his arm. “Duncan, fuck, what the fuck,” she breathed. “How are this many people here, holy fuck, holy fuck.” The partition rolled down. “Miss Mackenzie, I’m going to get out first and check the perimeter, and then I’ll give a nod; an okay to proceed. Is that acceptable?” Harris looked over his shoulder at her through the window, his sepia-toned eyes waiting for her go-ahead. Duncan clutched her hand softly, staring at her; you’re in charge, baby, you got this. Be calm. Kenzie took a deep, shuddering breath, staring out the window at the reporters pressed against the BMW; “okay, Harris, okay,” she said, and he opened the door; reporters immediately started to shout questions to him, “Are you with Duncan Shepherd and Mackenzie Stone? Is this Miss Stone’s current residence? Are you aware of the ongoing relationship between Shepherd and Stone? What is your relation to Miss Stone?” Kenzie noticed Harris ignored them as though they weren’t even speaking to him; his eyes scouted the sidewalk sharply, through the crowd pressing towards them, and then he nodded at the window. Time to move.

“Come on, baby, I got you,” Duncan gripped her hand, looking into her eyes; his were clouded, dark, but determined, and Kenzie felt suddenly full of determination, too; fuck all of you, she thought. Fuck you people, let me in my apartment. “Ready,” she breathed, grabbing the handle of the little black convertible bag she’d picked out a few days before, having switched to it from her Margaux satchel before they left the penthouse earlier. Ready as I’ll ever be.

Duncan opened the door, Harris standing near it, his back to the reporters as a buffer; Duncan exited the car, standing straight; the paps immediately swarmed around him, shouting, though they didn’t get too close; Harris gave one man a particularly dark look when he tried to shove a microphone under Duncan’s chin (Kenzie watched, worried, as Duncan’s head came back a little, involuntarily, his expression dazed for just a moment), and the man scurried back. Duncan leaned down, reaching a steady hand out to Kenzie where she still sat in the BMW’s backseat; Kenzie grasped his hand with tight fingers, and let him help her out of the car, their eyes locked; trust me, she knew he was thinking. “Trust me,” he mouthed, and she bit her lip, and nodded. The shouted questions around the car suddenly reached a crashing crescendo as Kenzie stepped onto the sidewalk beside him, Harris shielding her from behind; Kenzie felt as though she could no longer make out phrases, just words; “MISS STONE, DUNCAN, MISS STONE, MR. SHEPHERD, MACKENZIE STONE, YOUR RELATIONSHIP--DATING--SHEPHERD UNLIMITED--POLITICAL OPPONENTS--RESIDENCE--A STATEMENT--” and the clashing of a dozen cameras clicking at once.

“Come on,” Duncan said into her ear, and he pulled her hand gently but firmly towards the building entrance. Kenzie could feel Harris’ forearm gently pushing into her shoulder blades, his tall form hovering behind her, protecting her from the back. Kenzie couldn’t help it; she looked down at the sidewalk, her head pounding with the noise, an overwhelming nausea washing over her; a sudden claustrophobia set in as the reporters closed in around them, still shouting. “Jesus, step the fuck back,” she heard Duncan say, his voice clipped and demanding, and he pulled her through the flapping suit jackets of several reporters who had gotten unnervingly close; they dispersed as Harris came through, his arms coming up as a shield around Kenzie’s body. Then, mercifully, they were inside her apartment building; several men were standing inside the doorway, each wearing a polo shirt with Moving Unlimited sewn into the breast. Duncan nodded at them, while Kenzie stared out the glass window, dazed, at the reporters and camerapeople, still snapping pictures of her. Is all of this really for me? Harris stood at the door they’d just entered, holding it shut as paps crowded against it, attempting to get inside.

Duncan pulled the keys Kenzie had given him days ago from his pocket; the silver crescent moon charm glinted at her as he turned it in the door, snapping it open, and she suddenly felt grateful at his speed; her keys were still buried somewhere at the bottom of her bag, and she noticed her hands were shaking badly. Duncan pulled her gently, still grasping her hand tightly, into the hallway; the movers came behind her, and Harris followed them, carefully checking the door was securely shut behind them.

Duncan was at her door now; the gold moon she kept hung there was winking at her. Strange times, Kenz. He used the second silver key, this one slightly smaller, to unlock her apartment door; “Come on, baby, we’re here,” he said into her ear, softly. Kenzie stepped into her apartment (my little, shitty apartment); there were empty spots here and there where Duncan had gotten her things yesterday, her plants along the windowsill gone (now sitting in Duncan’s bedroom; they’ll go on his windowsill now, our windowsill), about half of her clothing gone off the standing rack against the wall (now hanging in a neat row beside Duncan’s--our--bed). Kenzie looked around, still feeling dazed. There was a stack of unbuilt boxes on the floor next to the front door, left from the day before. Her bed lay undisturbed, though; Kenzie remembered in a wave how she and Duncan had fucked on it after he came to her so breathlessly, after that long day, such a long day, seeing Momby, telling her; the last time she’d slept in it. What a wonderful night to be my last in this bed.

“I just remembered my lease doesn’t turn over until August,” she said aloud, as if to herself, her voice quiet, sounding like it belonged to someone else.

“That’s not important, baby, I’ll have our lawyers talk to your landlord. We’ll pay off whatever you owe for the rest of the lease.”

“Duncan, I--”

“Kenzie, please let me do that. It’s okay, baby. It’s okay.”

Duncan looked at her; his eyes were warm, soothing, open. She met his gaze for a moment, then looked behind him. The movers and Harris still stood in the hallway; the movers looked bored and impatient, but Harris was calm and collected, looking carefully back at the doorway where several paps had now gone inside the entranceway. He said something quietly, as if to himself, and Kenzie couldn’t make it out; then, she remembered the thin wire extending into his ear. He seemed like a lion to Kenzie; a lion, or a giant leopard, the predator, not the prey, not concerned about his place on the food chain. She had no doubt he wouldn’t hesitate to remove someone from her path, as he’d said to her so calmly. The paps had parted for him like he was Moses parting the Red Sea.

“All you need to do, baby, is tell them how you want them to pack up your things. Then we can go and they’ll take everything to the penthouse.” Duncan spoke to her carefully. “Are you okay? Do you need some water?”

“Yes, please,” Kenzie said in a small voice. She breathed in, deeply, and sat on the edge of her constellation bedspread. I can’t believe all of that was because of me.

“I think it would be best if we left from a back entrance, Mr Shepherd,” Harris said to him from the doorway. “There are too many people for me to properly cover Miss Stone on the way out. I’ve called for backup; they can act as a distraction if need be until we can get her back into the vehicle.”

“That sounds fine, Harris. Kenzie, is there a back entrance?”

“Y-yes. Down the hallway, another right. There’s a patio area and a gate to the side-street.”

“Very good, Miss Mackenzie. I’ll go check the perimeter.” Harris moved down the hallway briskly, his Oxford shoes quiet on the carpet. Kenzie breathed out as Duncan handed her the peony glass, half full of water. Kenzie swallowed a mouthful, reaching for his hand; he wrapped it around her fingers, and the warmth of his touch filled the pit of her stomach with a blooming flower of calm. “Baby, everything is going to be fine. I promise.” His expression was so tender; it made her cheeks hot, her lip tremble. She handed him the glass back with a shaking hand; he grasped it, his hand steady, brushing her fingers, his hair falling over his forehead as he looked down at her, patient, calm.

“Let me get something,” Kenzie said, standing, letting go of him, moving into her tiny bathroom, pushing aside the long lunar tapestry that covered the doorway. Duncan didn’t follow her; he seemed to sense that she needed a moment alone. She moved against the sink, grasping the edge tightly to steady herself; stared for a long moment at the photo of Momby, when she was young, that was tucked into the mirror; the one of her in the bell-sleeves and very short cut-off shorts and flat sandals, leaning against a brick wall, smiling at something or someone unknown to the side of the unknown cameraman, her body and face in profile, her teeth visible, her eyes sparkling, her hair falling around her shoulders and forehead. I need to keep this safe, Kenzie thought, and tucked it carefully into the little black bag at her hip. She breathed again, once, twice, three times, staring at her tiny bathroom, thinking of Duncan’s huge one, so pristine and beautiful and big, with its marble countertop and silver-gilded mirror, the clawfoot bathtub (full of roses), the shower where they’d fucked that morning after, where last night they’d held each other so tenderly. Your new bathroom, Kenz. No more balancing your speaker on the toilet. She went to the corner where she had a small shelf with toiletries stacked in its cloth drawers beneath the tiny window; on top of it was a Golden Pothos plant, its leaves climbing down around the legs of the shelf, growing wildly. “You need a bigger pot, baby,” she whispered to it, and picked it up, gently, bringing her face down to it, pressing her nose into it for a moment. Then, Kenzie turned; Kenzie, you are brave, and you can do this, you can be this brave person, this fearless person, you can pretend she is you, that you are golden, you can see yourself the way you know Duncan sees you, because you can see into his heart, somehow, you can see into his thoughts, somehow, and you know he believes in you--you know he thinks you are golden, and so you must believe in yourself, believe you are golden, too, and make it so. You have to, Kenzie. You have to be her now. You have to believe you are her. Only you can bring her to life.

Kenzie looked down at her Golden Pothos again, pressing one foot against the other; circling her foot out, pointing it from front to back. Then, gripping the plant in her arms still, she moved out of the bathroom, pushing the tapestry aside with her shoulder.

“Okay,” she said, looking up at Duncan, who had sat quietly at her little round, wooden dining table, his hand against his chin; that telltale sign of his concern. He met her gaze, and nodded. “Let’s do this.”

------

It was about an hour later when Duncan and Kenzie moved quietly through the gated backyard of her apartment complex; Kenzie still held the Golden Pothos tenderly in her arms; Duncan had offered to carry it, but she shook her head. “I want to hold it, I need to hold it right now.” He’d nodded, his hand trailing gently down her arm, protectively. The movers had almost finished packing everything into neat boxes (her clothes were kept on the rack, but they’d tucked vinyl sheeting around it, covering it from prying pap eyes as they pushed it into the moving truck on the curb--several cops and other men in dark suits had arrived about fifteen minutes after Harris had placed his discreet backup call, and they were keeping the paps quarantined a few yards from the entrance of the building); Kenzie had insisted on lifting her wind chimes down with a chair and tucking them, inside her constellation bedspread, carefully into one of them herself; she placed a few of her other plants that had been left behind yesterday on top of the spread to cushion them. Duncan had personally, carefully carried the box into the truck, writing HANDLE WITH EXTREME CARE on the side with a sharpie, ignoring the paps who shouted at him (even when one of them called out “how’s Annette feeling about you fucking Madeline Stone’s daughter, Duncan?”). Kenzie was having her furniture moved into Momby’s storage unit in Arlington, though she wondered, absently, if she’d indeed ever end up using any of it again; Duncan’s things are so much nicer, why would we use mine? She couldn’t help but feel a twinge of sadness; it’s not that I even love my furniture. The change is just...so abrupt. My life changing so quickly, so utterly. It feels so soon, and yet, it feels like the right thing. It feels like pieces of a puzzle falling into place. It feels like the new moon. Duncan was right; this is our destiny. But nobody told me finding your destiny would feel so strange.

Samuel was idling the BMW on the back stretch of the side-street, and Harris was closely behind Kenzie again, his eyes, hawk-like, scanning the backyard for any stray prying eyes. Duncan held her arm, gently, pulling the rear door open, gripping her carefully as she leaned down into the seat, the plant still clutched in her arms; Duncan slid in beside her and and Harris shut the door behind him with a firm click from the sidewalk, moving quickly to the front seat and shutting the door as he scanned the area again; he spoke low, pressing the earpiece, as he settled into the passenger seat, and Samuel accelerated, the BMW quietly leaving the curb and turning toward Georgetown. “Samuel, drop us off at relish, in Cady’s Alley, thank you,” Duncan said, reaching for Kenzie’s hand; he pressed the button for the partition. He turned to her as the privacy of the backseat enveloped them. “Baby, Kenzie, are you alright? Can I do anything?”

Kenzie turned to look at him; oh, Duncan, I love you so. His eyes had that same tender expression as when he’d handed her the water glass, the clarity of their blue like a clear sky; she felt as though she could somehow sense the drifting color of his emotions, seeping out of him and enveloping her like an embrace, golden and bronze and delicately soft, sunlight and warm sand. “I’m okay, baby. I’m going to miss my apartment. It’s the first place I ever lived alone; I lived there for three years. And I’m going to miss living so close to Emissary...I’m okay. But I am a little sad. Just a little.”

“Do you want to cry? It’s okay if you want to cry, baby.”

Kenzie shook her head, biting her lip, clutching the Pothos.

“No. I don’t want to. Kiss me, okay? Duncan. Kiss me.” She turned her head up to him and he was smiling and his lips fell on hers and his hand came around hers where they clutched the terra cotta and he felt so warm and he felt golden and in his embrace Kenzie thought I don’t want to cry, I want to laugh; you make me feel golden, I told myself I am that girl you see inside me, and I feel her there and I know she’s there, I know she’s in me, and you’re bringing her out, bringing me to myself, in you I’ve seen the reflection of my own self, and in me the reflection of you.

-----

Duncan stepped out of the BMW, reaching for Kenzie’s hand, where Samuel had pulled up in front of the stony facade of the boutique; Kenzie gazed up at it, curious. She still held the Golden Pothos in her arms; Duncan reached down to her arms, gently pulling it away from her. “Is it okay if Samuel takes this back to the penthouse, baby? You know you can trust him.”

“Yes,” Kenzie breathed. If only this dazed feeling would fade; this feeling that I’m suddenly in someone else’s story. Harris was getting out of the passenger seat, buttoning his suit jacket, his hawkish sepia eyes scanning the area carefully again. I doubt he ever misses a thing, Kenzie thought. I wonder if he ever deviates from being extremely calm. Samuel leaned down from the driver’s seat to peer at her. “I will protect this small creature with my life, Miss Mackenzie,” he said as Duncan tucked the potted plant into the seat Harris had just vacated, pulling the seatbelt around its wide pot with measured gentleness. “Thank you, Samuel,” Kenzie replied, her voice sounding small in her ears. “Can you give it a little water when you get back?” “Of course, Miss Mackenzie.” Duncan shut the door and Samuel pulled away; “I’ll text him when we’re done,” Duncan said down to her, his hand finding the small of her back, his long fingers pressing gently down to the incline of her hip. Kenzie nodded up to him and grasped his hand as he pulled her into the shop; its interior was very cool and very quiet, the walls calming white with wooden dais raised here and there, shoes and accessories carefully and meticulously arranged, minimal racks against the walls, some clothing displayed on mannequins, red summer dresses and black pea coats and crisp white blouses. Harris hung back by the door as Duncan pulled her further into the shop, his eyes lighting on a woman approaching them, and he smiled at her, brilliantly.

“Nancy, how are you? It’s wonderful to see you.”

“Duncan, darling, I’m well, and you--you look wonderful, god, absolutely luminous.” The woman was middle-aged with an open, makeup-free face, round glasses perched on her nose, frizzy curls falling around her face, her smile genuine and unpretentious. She wore a long tartan skirt that fell to her ankles in navy and gray, and a mock neck top, darker navy, with pointed sleeves that went to her elbow. A golden-yellow argyle scarf was tied around her neck. She stopped in front of them, reaching out to Duncan, pressing her cheek against his, for a moment. “You smell lovely, as to be expected.” She turned to Kenzie, her expression friendly and curious. “And you must be Mackenzie. Madeline and I have brushed shoulders at parties in the past, but I don’t think I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting you, my dear. I’m Nancy Pearlstein. Duncan tells me you’re meeting Annette tomorrow and need to look a part she’ll be...gentle with.”

Kenzie felt heat seep into her cheeks, and smiled a little. ”It’s nice to meet you.”

“What a doll,” Nancy said, eyes falling down Kenzie’s small form, from her strawberry-gold hair to the pleated dress, lingering on the moon pendant for a moment, then to her dark brown leather boots, glancing at Duncan approvingly, then back to her. “You make quite the striking couple, it’s no wonder the media is losing its collective mind; and you, my dear, you’re like a little piece of cake. We must give you the proper frosting. Come.”

Nancy led them up a smooth staircase of wooden slats; around more displays, tasteful racks, and mannequins on the second floor, and through a door marked EMPLOYEES ONLY around a corner. Here there was a wide white room, painted similarly to the rest of the store, warm light streaming in from two high windows against the far wall facing them, some empty mannequin stands in one corner and a curtain pulled over the opposite one as a makeshift dressing room, with a mirror so long against the wall to their left it reminded Kenzie of one in a dance studio; to one side of the mirror there stretched another long clothing rack, this one stocked with at least twenty different dresses of varying colors and styles.

“So, I brought together some pieces I think would suit you based on the pictures of you Duncan sent me. If you don’t like them, we can find more. Take your time. I’ll be downstairs if you need anything at all.” Nancy nodded back and forth between Duncan and Kenzie, her smile clearly delighted at the two of them; she pressed two fingers to her lips, as if lost in a private thought, then left, closing the door quietly behind her.

Duncan turned to her, smiling. “Isn’t she lovely?”

“She is. You know so many lovely people, baby.”

“She and my mother have been friends since high school. Nancy helped her dress for her first TV appearance, back in the late 80’s. Her store has been here for over twenty years. She’s the best...baby, try something on for me?” Duncan stepped close to her, his arms snaking around Kenzie’s waist, his face coming down to the side of her face, lips trailing down her neck. “I wanna see you in every single one of these. Please?”

Ugh, baby, you’re so gorgeous, you smell so fucking good, Kenzie thought, unable to stop her eyes from closing as he pressed into her, his much larger form enveloping hers in an achingly strong embrace, his hair against her mouth, its woodsy smell making her heart fall into her stomach and fly back into her mouth. I want your hands down between my legs where they belong. As if he heard her, Duncan moved one long-fingered hand over her thigh, but Kenzie pulled away, teasingly, before he could reach down further, her lips hovering achingly close to his for a moment, eliciting a moan from him that reverberated against her, his desire palpable in the quiet of the early afternoon.

“Sit down, baby,” she commanded, and his gaze was heavy with lust for a moment as he stood very still, almost touching her but not quite, his hand hovering up, fingers extended towards her. Then, he turned to where some folding chairs were stacked against the wall; he pulled one with ease over to the center of the room, opening it with a snap, setting it firmly down, and sitting, crossing one leg against the other in a lazy, low crook, hands settling into his lap, his eyes steady on her.

Kenzie turned her back to him, setting her convertible bag on the floor; she went up to the rack lined beside the mirror, and began to push through the dresses carefully, mentally selecting five or six she liked immediately, and a handful of others that struck her for one reason or another. She lifted one up to Duncan; it was black tweed with tiny, tasteful sequins and a boat-style neck, and sleeves to the middle of the lower arm with slit cuffs. “This seems like an Annette Shepherd dress to me,” she said, and he nodded, his eyes shifting over it with a confident look.

“It is. I think that might be the one. Try it on?”

“I will. Be patient, Mr. Shepherd.”

“Yes, Miss Stone.” She felt his eyes on her back, falling down her wavy hair (golden and soft as silk) along her hips and over her ass (thinking about your beauty last night, baby, fucking you with that plug, fucking you, tied up, my come dripping down your leg, riding me so hard into that oblivious ecstasy…) and Kenzie blew her breath out, trying to calm her racing nerves, am I imagining this again, or is that really what he’s thinking, but pushed it away from her mind, trying to clear it. She opened the makeshift curtain, and stepped behind it, easing her dress off over her head, slipping the first of the dresses Nancy had picked for her on; it was black and tiny, hem high on her thigh, with two dual strips of fabric that covered her breasts. A va-va voom dress, as Momby would call it. He wants a show, so I’m going to give him one.

“What do you think,” Kenzie said coyly, pushing the curtain aside. She twirled as Duncan’s eyes lit up and he leaned forward, eagerly, her gold hair tossing over her shoulder.

“We are definitely going home with that one, angel.”

Kenzie grinned and stepped up to him, leaning down, pressing her mouth eagerly down onto his, standing between his legs; Duncan tried to put his hands around her, but she pulled away before he could. “I’m busy, baby,” she said, turning her head up, swinging her hips as she walked away from him. “You need to wait.”

“Ughhh, Kenzie, baby…”

“Shhhh.” Kenzie pushed the curtain closed again, her nerves thrilling under her skin. This was fun. When she opened it again, she was wearing a long-sleeved crewneck black dress with white lines around the waist and through the flaring skirt. More of an autumn dress than summer, she thought, but definitely something I’d wear.

“I like this one,” she said. Duncan smiled and nodded. “As many as you want, baby. I think my Mom would like that one, too.” Kenzie made a little face and went back behind the curtain. She tried on several other dresses; one that was a tawny color that didn’t seem to fit her correctly around the shoulders (not this one) and another, a black mini-dress with flowers embroidered along either side. “I love that one,” Duncan said, his eyes flickering over her little breasts, the curve of waist, and the incline of her thighs in its form-fitting confines. “I love you in flowers.”

“I like this one too. It’s summery. But maybe not right for dinner with your mother.”

“Still, if you like it, we’re getting it.”

Kenzie smiled at him; fuck, baby, this is so much fun. His hand was on his jaw, trailing along his bottom lip, and his eyes glittered at her, full of affection and adoration. Just look at me, baby, she thought. Just look at me like that always and I’ll never be sad again.

Kenzie opened the curtain again a minute later; this dress made Duncan’s eyes widen and his mouth fell open, his hands coming out, resting on his knees with urgency.

“Fuck, baby, fuck me,” he whispered. The dress was long, lacy and red, with a fitted bodice and two tiny straps over her shoulders; the lace was transparent around her legs, exposing her skin, extending up to a very short flesh-colored slip around her hips, the neckline low, her back exposed, her hair brushing against her shoulder blades as she turned around for him, heart beating against the moon pendant around her neck. Kenzie smiled at him over her shoulder; I want you so fucking bad, baby, his thoughts seemed to drift towards her again, his eyes roving up and down her body, hungrily, achingly; I want you right now, I want your clit in my mouth, I want your neck under my fingers, your hair against my skin, your mouth against mine. Goddess, angel, my Kenzie, most divine--

Kenzie moved up to him, close, between his legs again, and this time, she let him press his hands into the lace around her, let him press his mouth, achingly soft, into the skin just above where the moon pendant lay against her. “Kenzie, I want you so bad, baby, you’re so beautiful, so fucking beautiful--”

“We can’t, baby, not right here--” but her mouth was opening to him and he was pressing one of his beautiful hands between her thighs, pulling her into his lap, fingers flitting under the hem of her underwear into the wetness spreading from the gathering heat there and she arched into his hand, their tongues coming against each other, and his thumb brushed up and down along her clit, making her shudder; Duncan worked his index finger up, rubbing it into her, the hardness at his crotch grinding up into the emptiness between her legs, and he said “I can make you come, though,” and he brought his finger down to the moisture at her cunt and brought it up to her clit, soaked in her arousal now, and he bit softly into her neck, once, twice, three times as he ground all of his concentrated devotion into her and she arched on his lap and he said “Kenzie, baby, fuck, I love you--” and she shuddered into his hand, her release abrupt and achingly hard and dizzying, and he brought his other hand up to her mouth and she stifled the scream of her orgasm into it, lips wet and kissing his palm.

“We are definitely getting this dress,” he murmured into her ear as she gasped against him, coming back down to earth.

Kenzie stood, wobbling a little; she could feel the wetness stuck against her panties now, and Duncan slid his finger away, still glistening with her; he pulled a tissue from his pocket, wiping her release onto it from his hand, bringing it to his nose for a moment (oh my god, baby) and tucking it back into his pocket. “Bad, bad baby,” she whispered as he grasped her hips to steady her. “Bad boy.”

“Uh huh,” Duncan said, flashing his beautiful smile at her, burying his face against her bare skin again. “I need to be punished, I guess.”

Kenzie gazed at him; he looked up into her face (blue like summer seas), mouth pressed into her with open devotion, wanton need. “Oh, you do, do you?” Kenzie whispered.

“I think so. If you want to. I think I’d like that. I think I’d like it if you tied me up.”

Oh my god, fuck yes. A shiver ran down Kenzie’s spine, cool air touching her bare shoulders in the red dress. “Okay, baby. I will. But you need to be patient.”

Duncan let go of her, but his eyes glittered still, and his smile was suggestive, a promise of things to come. “Okay, baby. I’ll be patient.”

“Good boy.” Kenzie stepped away from him, back to the curtain.

------

Kenzie tried on several other dresses, but the one they decided on for dinner with Annette was the first one Kenzie had laid eyes on; the black tweed with tiny sequins, a dress that looked like it belonged on the body of a Congresswoman having a tasteful lunch at a bistro. It’s not really a Kenzie dress, Mackenzie thought, but I’m terrified of this dinner tomorrow, and every little bit helps. I just hope she isn’t planning on dressing me all the time. Kenzie remembered the appointment she was supposed to go to with Annette on Saturday morning, to fit a dress for the Gala. Yep, 100% dreading that. In the end, they left Nancy’s boutique with five of the dresses that she’d hung on the rack for Kenzie; the tiny black one with the plunging neckline, the one with flowers embroidered along the sides, the black dress with white stripes, the lacy red dress that he made me come in with just his hands, Kenzie thought, good thing we didn’t get anything on it, her cunt twinging as Duncan grasped her fingers at the counter, and the dress she would wear to their dinner at Plume tomorrow. Kenzie dared not even look at the bill; she turned away from the register as Nancy and Duncan conversed pleasantly and nonchalantly, Nancy slipping them into vinyl hanging bags, wheeling a rack around to take to the BMW, Samuel already having driven back around to pick them up, Harris watching carefully from inside the doorway of the boutique, his expression relaxed and neutral. I guess thirty years of being a bodyguard makes you extremely patient. Kenzie felt dizzy and tired again; I can’t wait to see Claire, she thought. Claire always makes me feel like myself again, and I want her and Duncan to like each other so much.

“Sweet Mackenzie, it was lovely to meet you, I’m so glad I could help with this.” Nancy pushed the wheeled rack towards them and Duncan grasped it from her, carefully.

“Thank you for everything, Nancy,” Kenzie replied, blushing, remembering Duncan’s hands between her legs in the room upstairs, a short while ago. He looked at her, his smile sly, a promise to her that he was thinking about the same thing. Harris came up and pulled at the other end of the rack, bringing it out the door, carefully pressing the vinyl bags into the trunk of the BMW; he opened the door for Kenzie, smiling at her.

“Today has been so long,” Kenzie said, looking up at his friendly face, “But meeting you has made it wonderful. I’m so grateful…” She grasped the large man’s calloused hand for a moment as Duncan watched them from the opposite side of the car before he got in, his blue eyes full of affection as they fell over her gesture.

“Miss Mackenzie, I am grateful to have a charge who is so lovely in every way. The pleasure is mine. Today is one of many where I will be faithfully at your side. I look forward to this partnership.”

Kenzie slid into the seat, and Harris closed it behind her. Duncan laid a hand on her thigh, his face falling down to his iPhone for a moment, and Kenzie closed her eyes, tiredness washing over her; when she opened her eyes again, Kenzie noticed he’d had it raised up in front of her and was lowering it now, smiling at it. “Oh no, Duncan,” she murmured, “did you take another picture of me?”

Duncan bit his lip. “You looked so lovely.” He held it up to her; he’d already posted it on his profile. In the photo, Kenzie’s eyes were closed and her face was serene, the late afternoon sunlight falling over her cheek, the moon pendant glittering at her neck, golden waves thrown down her shoulders, a little pout at her mouth. “Oh no, ugh,” Kenzie complained. “Blackmail.” Sleepy angel. With the beating pink heart and ZZZ emojis. 800 likes and it’d only been seconds. “Fuck, people do not waste time on your photos, baby,” she murmured. But Kenzie felt too tired to care. Let them look. Her eyes drifted closed again, and her head fell onto Duncan’s shoulder, though she didn’t realize it; Kenzie felt the soft brush of Duncan’s lips in her hair, then she remembered nothing until the pulled up in front of the high-rise a few minutes later, the setting sun streaming against its glistening surface, Duncan shaking her awake, gently, his fingers on her cheek.

-----

“Let’s just get takeout for dinner,” Duncan said, and Kenzie grinned at him. Oh, thank god, you are an actual human being. “Ugh, yes, baby, definitely.” She was standing in the bedroom, surrounded by boxes, bringing her plants out one by one; Kenzie was still in the long-sleeved pleated dress, but her feet were bare, and Duncan had peeked his head into the room from where he’d been typing at his Macbook on the coffee table, deeply immersed in emails. “I’ve been dying for Chinese food, do you people eat that?”

“You people,” Duncan mimicked, making a face. “Are my horns showing again?”

“Yep, they’re glorious and terrifying. But I know I can defeat you with tickles.”

Duncan laughed. “You wouldn’t dare.”

She wiggled her fingers at him and he disappeared from the doorway in faux terror. “Oh, wouldn’t I, Mr. Shepherd.”

“Please tell me Claire likes eggrolls, because I’m ordering like, at least ten.”

“Of course Claire likes eggrolls, she’s not a monster.”

“What a relief.” Duncan appeared in the doorway again, throwing his phone lazily onto the bed; he gathered her up in his arms. “I love those little plants you put in the kitchen, it looks like you now, like you and me, together. I love it so much, baby.”

“Mmhmm,” Kenzie sighed into him; when Duncan held her, it seemed as though every ache, every drop of tiredness floated away from her; I feel alive in his arms. Truly alive. She kissed him; “I love kissing you,” he said into her mouth, their lips parting then meeting again, and she nodded up into him as he lifted her, his body enveloping her, his hands at the back of her neck, the dip under her arm, threading through her hair. “I know today was a long day for you--you were so wonderful, so kind and lovely, and you always are--”

“Not always, baby,” she whispered into him. “I’m human too, I can be a cruel mistress.”

“But I’m yours, and I will forgive you every time.” His words fell against her and Kenzie felt her heart shake; she was struck again by the heavy hand of Fate, merciful, having brought them together. Please be with us tomorrow, I beg of you, for I am fucking terrified of Annette Shepherd. She went to speak; but the doorbell chimed again, for the second time that day.

“Claire!”

Kenzie ran to the door, jerking it open, and throwing herself into the arms of her Clairebear, Claire’s blonde shag bouncing back and her mouth shrieking into Kenzie’s ear as they hugged each other tightly. “Oh my god, I’ve missed you, bitch!” Claire pulled Kenzie back to look at her, then wrapped her arm around the back of Kenzie’s neck, tightly, squeezing her again. Kenzie dragged her inside the penthouse, grinning so widely she worried her face would split. Duncan came up behind her and Claire yanked him into a hug. “Get used to this, Duncan, I’m a hugger.”

“I could use more hugs, so that’s fine.” Duncan put his arm around Claire’s back, smiling at Kenzie over her shoulder.

Claire patted his cheek, pulling back. “I brought some really fucking good weed from Colorado.”

“Fuck yes!” Kenzie hopped up and down, her bare feet bouncing against the smooth marble kitchen floor. “Get this, Claire, Duncan eats Chinese food, I’m so fucking relieved.”

“What am I, a science experiment?” Duncan was smiling, though. “What kind of wine do you like, Claire?”

“Pfft, every kind, what kind of question is that, honey.”

“Every kind it is, then,” Duncan went into the fridge (it belongs in the future with the toaster, Kenzie thought), and brought out a bottle of vintage Moet, opening it deftly, the satisfying pop of the cork reverberating off the crystal-drop chandelier. “Champagne glasses?” She asked him, her eyes falling into his with desire. 

“Right side cabinet, top shelf, but how are you gonna reach them, baby?” 

“I have my ways.” Kenzie hoisted herself up onto the counter so she was kneeling on its smooth black surface, and she reached up carefully, bringing down three beautiful Waterford champagne coupes. “A lifetime of shortness has made me crafty.”

“Kenz, be careful.”

Claire was watching them with bright eyes; Kenzie looked back at her, and Claire shook her head. “You two are so stinkin’ cute, it’s pretty disgusting.”

Kenzie lept down from the counter and brought the glasses over to the island. Duncan poured the icy champagne into the first glass, cordially handing it to Claire; she smiled, delighted. He handed the next one to Kenzie, fingers lingering on her skin; and lastly, poured one for himself.

“To all the happiness in the days to come,” he said, his eyes shining at her, raising his coupe.

“To your mother not murdering me tomorrow,” she countered.

“To this fucking great weed we’re about to smoke,” Claire added, and clinked her glass against them both.

After they’d shared a bowl, Kenzie had dragged Claire from room to room, watching her friend’s face with delight as Claire gasped at Duncan’s rooms, at The Youth of Bacchus, at the wall-long window gazing down on the city, 30 stories down and a mile away; our rooms, she corrected herself, our apartment, my apartment, my penthouse, god, so fucking weird, but get used to it, Kenz, he’s yours and so is this, so is all of this. The weed crashed through her in a wave, down the base of her skull into the pit of her body and through her limbs, and the champagne was the best she’d ever tasted, heady and bittersweet and high. Music drifted from the overhead speakers, a hard drumbeat with a playful guitar twining around it (looking out for love, in the night so still / oh I’ll build you a kingdom, in that house on the hill); Claire stared at the window in awe, coupe clutched in her hand, and Duncan was stretched out on the low leather couch, Kenzie leaning against his feet and the crook of his bent knees, her hair falling down his thighs into his crotch; Duncan’s hands fell through it, his eyes fascinated and mesmerized.

“This is the most amazing place, Duncan,” Claire said, turning back to them. “Like, wow, the energy here is special.”

“It’s because Kenzie’s here now,” Duncan replied, matter-of-factly. “She’s the gold.”

“The gold?”

“Yes. Kenzie is gold.”

Kenzie laughed a little. “You’re high, baby.”

“So what. You’re still gold, angel. Gold forever, gold divine, gold of mine...”

Another song drifted from the speakers; strains of electronic chimes, ethereal and full of magic. So long ago, certain place, certain time…

“You touched my hand, all the wayyyy, all the way down to Emmeline--” Kenzie clear voice burst out into song towards Claire, and Claire grinned.

“But if our paths never cross, well you know, I’m sorry, but--”

Kenzie jumped up, Duncan’s hands slipping out of her hair, grabbing Claire’s hand (Claire set the Waterford coupe down carefully beside Dike’s scales, laughing, “Kenzie, jesus, watch out!”), whirling her around as the music pumped out of Duncan’s speakers, and he gazed at her, a serenely happy expression in his eyes as the light faded and the city came up through the window. If I live to see the Seven Wonders, I’ll make a path to the rainbow’s end, I’ll never live to match the beauty again, the rainbow’s end...

#duncan shepherd #millory #duncan shepherd au #house of cards au #michael x mallory au #michael x mallory #duncan shepherd x mackenzie stone #cody fern x billie lourd au #collie au #collie #cody x billie #cody fern #billie lourd #cody fern x billie lourd #ahs apocalypse #mackenzie stone #duckenzie #duncan x mackenzie #body and soul #body and soul au #my fic #body and soul fanfic #body and soul fic