#Help why is 2 minute low effort drawings so fun
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the boys art dump
they’re keeping me sane
#Help why is 2 minute low effort drawings so fun#Like I keep drawing these guys#Help me I nee#inazuma#Ina11#kiyama hirito#midorikawa ryuuji#fubuki shirou#kazemaru ichirouta#i need study bye#Bye bye#sobaart
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(Un)Wanted: Part 2
Read on Ao3
(Un)Wanted Masterlist
A child that sees demons in every dark corner is not a child that is wanted.
A child that cries and freezes and mumbles of terrible things is not a child that is wanted.
A child that jumps and startles and hisses is not a child that is wanted.
Unwanted things are purged from the Earth.
So Virgil runs.
In other words: Virgil is an outcast, ostracized and shunned for how he was born, forced to flee an angry mob only to stumble right into a fae garden.
Pairings: LAMP, DLAMP, DLAMPR, can be platonic or romantic you decide
Warnings: Implied/Referenced torture, child abuse, and self-harm, nothing super explicit. Sympathetic Deceit and Remus. Panic attacks, anxiety attacks.
Word Count: 10,227
Mortals have always been fascinating creatures for Patton.
They have so many…quaint little ideas about what they can do about things and such interesting ways of thinking about it. Some of them believe that they float in this strange grey area, using that to defend choices that harm or hurt other people. Some of them believe they were sent here with a purpose and they must fulfill it. Some of them don’t think at all.
It’s fascinating, but then…when your life is confined to a mere century, Patton supposes everything must seem so…heavy.
A shriek interrupts his thinking and he barely has time to step aside before a blast of magic swirls past him.
“Watch where you’re pointing that thing!” He puts his hands on his hips. “Now, who threw that?”
He rolls his eyes fondly when the prince and the duke point at each other.
“Kiddos, not that I don’t appreciate your enthusiasm,” he says, creating a quick shield between them and the portal so anymore, um, ‘misfires’ don’t accidentally get through, “but do you even know what you’re doing?”
“You ask as if they ever know what they’re doing,” L mutters.
“Oh, please,” the prince huffs, “I am always in complete control.”
“Falsehood.”
“That’s right,” the duke grins, “sometimes it’s my turn.”
“We are not making the mortal live at the bottom of the lake!” The prince smacks his forehead with his hand. “The furniture would be absolutely positively destroyed!”
“And mortals cannot breathe underwater.”
“That too!”
“Ugh, you guys are so boring,” the duke huffs, “that’s the point! Then no one else would be able to get him! Plus,” he adds with a grin, “we could have so much more fun.”
“I find it highly unlikely that the mortal’s definition of ‘fun’ and your definition have significant overlap,” L says.
“Well, then we’ll just have to change that.” The duke claps. “The bottom of the lake it is!”
“It is not!”
“Is too!”
Patton and L quickly step back as the twins start squabbling again. L shakes his head disparagingly as the prince summons a sword. “We aren’t going to let them do this, are we?”
“No,” Patton agrees, “but they’ve got a point.”
“Well, the prince does make an effort to sharpen his blade on a regular schedule.” When Patton opens his mouth to clarify, L continues. “But I do not believe we have a grasp of how to create a residence for a mortal either.”
“I know.” Patton absentmindedly rubs his wrists, still feeling the aftershocks of the visions pushed into their bond.
It hurt. It had burned in a way that nothing ever had for a long time. And for a fae, that can be a very long time indeed.
Dropping his work to clutch at his chest, hunched over from the weight of what he’d felt had been agony on its own, and he’d dashed out to find the others, needing to know what hurts, what happened, please, tell me so I can fix it, only to find none of them, fearing the worst. Having to walk into the garden to see the others already huddled around a mortal—a mortal, the duke wrapped around them with everything but the tentacles. Having to be the one to say no, his own heart tearing to pieces with every word he utters, the feeling of the mortal trembling in his hold, the tension and fear brimming off of their skin, almost burning Patton’s hands. Feeling the horrible sick rush of terror when the other animals bumbled into the forest.
Hearing just what they thought of V.
After that, well…Patton hadn’t cared much about the rules anymore.
And honestly, considering who it was that pushed the visions in the first place, Patton’s not sure he ever stood much of a chance.
But one of the things about breaking the rules is that, well, there are no rules. There are no guidelines now, no strict set of things to follow. And when it comes to mortals, that can be almost as dangerous.
“Look out!”
“Wait, shit—“
“Pat!”
Patton blinks and suddenly the others are tackling him out of the way of another errant magic blast. As his brain desperately tries to connect the path from standing to being on the floor, L scowls.
“You two need to stop,” he says sternly, “we only have a few minutes before V comes through and if he sees this, it’s likely he will not wish to remain.”
“Sorry,” the prince murmurs, helping everyone up, “and sorry to you too, Duke.”
“Eh,” the duke says, brushing himself off, “we’ve done worse.”
“Yes,” L mumbles, “yes, you have.”
“L,” Patton says once everyone’s righted themselves, “did you manage to get a good grasp of the place?”
L nods. “It seems to be the small village in the northwest corner of the forest. The population is around two hundred. It is…unlikely that the land holds any significant powers.”
“Hmph,” the prince grumbles, lifting his hand obediently, “such a lack of creativity.”
In front of them, a village forms. Several houses line a small street, each with a slightly different size and shape. Behind them are ramshackle sheds, worn fences, and in the middle, a slightly larger building. Patton isn’t sure what the mortals use this one for, but it is considerably…shinier than the others.
“I suppose it is quite…” L struggles for the right word. “…plain.”
“That’s one way of putting it,” the duke sniffs, “where are you supposed to do anything?”
“Now, kiddos,” Patton says, “this isn’t about what we want, it’s about what V wants.”
“And you think he wants something blander than a piece of dead wood?”
“Hey!” The duke smacks the prince upside the head. “Dead wood is great, thank you very much.”
“I said blander than a piece of dead wood, you bumbling buffoon.”
“It’s what he’s used to,” Patton says quickly before they can dissolve into another squabble, “it’s better to go slow, right?”
“We have already seen that V can be overwhelmed very easily,” L agrees, “it might be best to…start blander.”
“Fine.”
And not a moment too soon, it seems, because the portal begins to glow. Patton turns around to see V step through, followed closely by J.
“Glad you made it, kiddo,” Patton smiles, “we’ve been waiting for you!”
His eyes widen and his chest clenches when V’s body seizes with terror and he freezes, still halfway out of the portal. J nudges him gently and V whimpers, wrapping his arms tightly around himself and baring his teeth in a snarl.
“Hey, hey, kiddo,” Patton murmurs quickly, starting towards him, only to freeze when V shrinks back, “okay, okay, I’m stopping. I’m right here, okay? I’m not gonna get any closer.”
He crouches down, keeping his hands raised, feeling the others adopt similar positions of surrender. V’s gaze is still fixed on the houses, his body seemingly torn between wanting to turn and flee and never wanting to move again. Patton’s heart clenches when V’s breaths start to get faster and faster, the air whining in protest as it whips in and out of his lungs.
“V,” J murmurs, “V, listen to me.”
V’s head barely jerks.
“Come on, little one, just listen to me, you can close your eyes if you have to.”
Patton watches, a strange cocktail of relief and envy as J bends closer, whispering into V’s ear too low for the rest of them to possibly hear, one of his hands hovering just over V’s opposite shoulder. V’s eyes squeeze shut and slowly, slowly, he relaxes, his chin dropping to his chest. J continues to murmur soft words until finally V draws in a deep, slow breath and his arms finally loosen their death grip.
J looks at V with such a look of concern that it makes Patton wince in sympathy, only soothed when V gives him a tight nod. J straightens, still hovering protectively around V, and turns his attention to the others, the soft look of worry quickly morphing into stone.
“Explain.”
“We attempted to recreate the village,” L says, “in order to…not overwhelm V so quickly.”
J glances down at V then back up. “Yes, and I can see that worked out stunningly.”
“I don’t understand.” L looks back and forth between the village and the still-shaken V. “If…if the environment is familiar, it should elicit feelings of comfort.”
“Oh, no,” Patton murmurs, closing his eyes for a moment, “I messed up.”
“Don’t worry,” the prince says quickly, “it’s okay, we’ll—we’ll figure it out.”
“I think I understand.” Patton opens his eyes and looks up at V. “You thought this was a trick, didn’t you? That we’d pretended to take you in and then…brought you back.”
The very idea coils hot and heavy in his gut, settling there like a horrible sickly weight. It only draws itself deeper when V nods, his mouth drawn tight.
“What?” The prince’s cry shakes Patton’s core. “Why would—“
Patton holds up a hand, cutting him off, even though he can feel the anguish of the others burning through the bond. Even J isn’t immune; the hand on V’s shoulder flexes in the glove and he steps a little closer.
“And even if we didn’t,” Patton says brokenly, “even if we didn’t you—these…the only feelings you have about this place aren’t good ones.”
V lowers his head in shame, his fingers flexing in the fabric of his tunic. The urge to run and wrap him up in a tight embrace makes Patton’s limbs tremble.
“Get rid of it.”
“What?”
“Get rid of it,” Patton murmurs firmly to the prince, “bring us back to the field.”
“N-no!”
Patton’s eyes widen in surprise, and judging by J’s confused head tilt, he’s not the only one. Yet there V is, staring at him with a fierce look of determination, fire burning in his gaze despite the way he’s still curled around himself.
“…’no,’ kiddo?”
Patton knows he’s made another mistake the instant V’s eyes widen again. “W-wait, I didn’t mean—you don’t—that was a s-suggestion, not a—I didn’t mean to—I don’t want—“
V’s hands shoot to his hair, tangling in the strands and pulling.
“I didn’t mean to tell you what to do,” he manages finally, “please don’t be angry.”
Oh, kiddo…
“V,” Patton calls softly, “kiddo, we’re not angry.”
He smiles kindly when V peeks out at him from a little gap in his fingers. “Y-you’re not?”
“No, V, we’re not angry.” Patton places one hand flat against his chest. “You have my word.”
It seems to do the trick, though not nearly as well as he would’ve liked. V’s hands slowly inch away from his face, twisting themselves back into his tunic. Patton smiles encouragingly.
“I didn’t mean to scare you,” he assures, “I’m just a little curious why you didn’t want the village gone. If it’s…if it’s bothering you, then…”
Patton shrugs. “Wouldn’t it be better?”
“But you already…made it,” V mumbles, “so…”
The prince huffs. “Please. It took barely a moment. I do hope you don’t think so lowly of my skills, sweetheart.”
The corner of V’s mouth tugs up and oh, it’s the best thing Patton’s seen all day!
“It’s no trouble,” the prince assures, “plus…I must confess I am not a fan. I mean honestly, the utter lack of craftsmanship, it’s truly astonishing.”
“The point of this,” L says, making V look at him, “was to create somewhere you would feel more comfortable. This place—“ he gestures around— “was not exactly designed for mortals.”
“But we shouldn’t have tried to anticipate what you want,” Patton adds, “and so there’s nothing wrong with getting rid of the village.”
“Y-you mean this one…right?”
“Well,” the duke mutters darkly. Patton can’t find it in his heart to scold him more than half-heartedly.
“P-please don’t,” V stammers, “I…”
“We won’t,” Patton assures, far more concerned about making V feel comfortable than any sort of retribution—however rightly deserved—for the denizens of the village.
“Even if the duke does have a point, little mouse.”
Patton glances exasperatedly at J, only to be met with an expression of innocent bewilderment. He raises an eyebrow. J simply shrugs. Patton’s gaze gets caught by V, still shifting a little and sending quick glances at the village.
More pressing matters.
“V,” he murmurs, smiling again when V’s gaze jumps to his, “is it alright if I come a little closer?”
J’s brow quirks as V stiffens.
“It’s okay, I’m not gonna hurt you. You’re gonna be okay. I promise.”
V doesn't move, still wrapping his arms tightly around himself.
“I’m sorry I scared you, that we scared you with this,” he continues, looking behind him to see agreeing nods from the others. He looks back to see V’s gaze losing a little of its frenzied edge. He smiles and gives a little wave. “Hey there.”
V doesn’t wave back or smile, but he doesn’t flinch either. Patton takes that as a good sign.
“You’re allowed to say no, V,” he assures, “that’s okay too.”
Nothing. Patton’s gaze flicks to J and J nods.
“What about this,” Patton says softly, “why don’t I move real slow, just a little, just so you can see how it feels, and then we go from there?”
V nods.
“I’m stepping a little closer, okay?” V lets him move a step closer. He crouches down again, keeping his hands in sight, still a good few feet away. “How are you doing, kiddo?”
Patton laughs when V’s able to convey his annoyance with the question with a subtle change of expression. “Okay, so, bad question. Can I…” He hesitates. “Can come a little closer? Is that okay?”
V nods carefully. “Y-you can—“ He cuts himself off.
“Say it,” Patton coaxes, “go on, V, you can say it.”
“You can…come all the way over,” V mumbles, “i-if you want.”
Patton fights down the urge to jump up and race over, instead confining himself to a small smile.
“Okay. I’m going to stand up and walk over to you. I’ll go slow so I won’t scare you. Okay?” V nods. “Okay. I’m going to stand up now.”
He keeps his hands raised and slowly stands up, keeping himself slightly hunched over to make himself seem like less of a threat. To his dismay, but not his surprise, it isn’t very effective. Even hunched over, Patton still looms quite large, his shadow blocking the light from the forest. When he notices V flinching, he stops, letting him get used to the fact that he’s standing now.
“Easy, easy, it’s okay.” He keeps up the constant litany of reassurances until he reaches V, carefully positioning himself so that V can look at him, just him, and not the village. It seems to do the trick, interrupting whatever feedback loop kept darting V’s gaze around the buildings, instead directing it at the various patched on Patton’s cloak.
“You’re doing great, kiddo,” Patton murmurs, “thank you for letting me come over.”
V shuffles again, sniffing and dropping his head. A moment later his shoulders shake and Patton can’t help the wounded noise that escapes his throat. J isn’t much better off, sliding neatly behind V to prevent anything from getting through the portal, even though they both know nothing will touch this one ever again.
“Sweetheart,” Patton says softly, “oh, sweetie, are…is this still too much?”
“S-sorry.”
“Don’t apologize, sweetie, you haven’t done anything wrong.”
“And please,” L calls, “do not be ashamed of crying. It is the mortal way of handling anything overwhelming, you need not feel embarrassed about dealing with it in a healthy way.”
“Told you,” J murmurs.
“Can I touch you, sweetie,” Patton asks softly, “can I touch you?”
V nods shakily and Patton reaches out, resting a hand on his shoulder. “Here you are. Shh, you’re okay.” He moves his hand from her shoulder to his cheeks, wiping away a tear as it rolls down. “I’m here, it’s okay.”
V hiccups a sob, barely stifled. Each one settles like a dead weight in his chest as V’s chin drives deeper and deeper into his chest.
“You’re going to hurt yourself,” Patton says, gently cupping V’s chin in his hand and raising it, only to be dismayed to see his eyes glazed over and each breath sending him hurtling towards another panic attack. He takes his hands and places them on either side of V’s face, turning his head so he makes eye contact with him. “Hey, hey. Look at me, kiddo. Breathe.”
The forest is quiet.
“Shh, that’s it, just breathe for me.” He slides his hands down from V’s face to his neck, giving him a little less restriction.
“Good job,” he murmurs, smiling at V as he begins to go limp. “Come here.”
He coaxes V into his arms, letting his head fall against his collar as he shifts back to support his weight. He’s so…there. Not just in his body, a physical weight, but there’s such a layer of feeling that surrounds him that it presses down on Patton like another weight. He relaxes into Patton’s grip as he guides V to rest comfortably against him. He rubs V’s arms when he shivers, frowning at how cold he is. Steadying V with his hands and glancing up at J, he balances V against him before pulling away enough to shrug off his cloak, hushing him when V lets out a tiny whine. “Shh, kiddo, I’m not going anywhere. He’ll keep you upright.”
He wriggles out of his cloak and drapes it carefully over V’s shoulders, smiling as it draws a sigh out of him and he shrinks under it. Wrapping his arms back around V, Patton lays his chin on top of V’s head and concentrates, trying to feel around for the sources of the fear and pull them away. V tucks his head against Patton’s collarbone. A damp patch grows on Patton’s shirt as he rocks V gently back and forth, shushing his cries.
“Shh, don’t worry kiddo, we’re here for you,” he murmurs, “it’s okay.”
He closes his eyes. Concentrates.
There.
“What are these,” he whispers, mostly to himself but to V as well, “these awful little things that are buzzing around you?”
They really are awful. They’re these fuzzy little black things that hurt if you stare at them too long, always vibrating, strobing at horrible frequencies that create a sort of whine in the back of your ears. On their own, they really aren’t so bad, at least when he can catch one of them by itself, but V…
V has thousands.
Thousands of horrible black whiny clouds buzzing around his head, around his whole body, swallowing him in a storm. Patton’s seen them before, not nearly to this quantity mind you, but he has seen them, flitting about behind mortals. Wretched little beasties.
“Are these…fears?” He freezes one in place, watching as it squirms in place. “Worries?”
Concentrate.
The cloud whines and dissolves. V’s breath catches.
“There’s no need for these,” Patton murmurs, catching another one and dissolving it, “you have no use for them.”
One by one he catches them, and one by one he makes them stop hurting V. They don’t want to go; they cling to each other, to V, to him in protest, yowling about whatever they want V to be so desperately afraid of, and it never makes Patton bat an eye. They’re hurting V, that’s all that matters. And Patton doesn’t like seeing V hurt.
With each one he vanishes, V grows lighter and lighter in his arms, his sobs trailing off until his breath evens, only hitching ever so slightly. When he’s finished, V pulls away, looking up at him with wide eyes.
“W-what did you do?”
Patton smiles, gently giving V a squeeze. “Just cleaned you up a bit, kiddo.”
“H-how?”
“I can sense emotions and feelings,” Patton explains, “it’s kinda my job.”
“…you’re the Heart.”
“I am, good job.” He bumps his forehead lightly against V’s. “That means I can sense things that you feel and…help you along.”
V chews on his lip. “…but I’m still scared.”
“Oh, kiddo, I can’t fix that sort of thing. Well, I can, but that’s…invasive,” Patton says, “and I’d run the risk of hurting you more. No, no, I didn’t do anything like that. I’m not trying to take your feelings away. I just…”
He brushes a thumb tenderly across V’s cheek.
“…dusted you off a little.”
The fluffy little bubble of relief that drifts along the path his thumb leaves is enough to make his whole chest glow.
“Feel better?”
“Yeah,” V mumbles, “um…thank you.”
Patton kisses his forehead. “Of course, kiddo. Now…can we talk about what just happened?”
V tenses.
“You can say no,” J reminds.
“…no, please?”
Patton nods. “Okay. Can I then ask you something?”
V nods, shifting a little in Patton’s grip. Patton opens his arms a little, enough for V to know if he wants to pull away he can, if he doesn’t, he needn’t. V takes a step back, wrapping his arms around himself.
“We wanted to make the village for you so that you would have somewhere you wanted to stay,” he says softly, “and it’s okay that we got it wrong. Could you tell us what you do want?”
“I’d be happy to make it,” the prince calls from over his shoulder—right, he’d somehow forgotten the others were still here— “just say the word.”
“Me too!”
“You guys,” V mumbles, “are the weirdest fucking fae I’ve ever heard of.”
Patton giggles. “Thanks, kiddo. That’s an honor.”
“…is it?”
Patton softens, waiting for V to look at him to smile kindly. “It isn’t bad to be different or weird, sweetie.”
“…oh.”
“So,” the prince calls cheerfully, “what will it be? Castle? Tower? Cavernous ballrooms?”
“Prince,” L chides lightly.
“Take your time,” Patton soothes when V’s eyes blink vacantly, “you take all the time you need kiddo, to tell us what you want.”
And oh, the unsure look on V’s face breaks his heart all over again. He looks so lost, like he’s been confronted with something he can’t hope to understand.
“It’s alright if you don’t know,” he says softly, “it’s a lot to ask. But if it would be easier, you can tell us what you don’t want.”
“…I don’t want to go back,” V mumbles, “please don’t make me go back.”
“We won’t,” Patton promises, “we won’t.”
Sure enough, by the time he’s stepped aside and turned around, the village is gone.
The prince waves his hand again, dimming the natural light of the forest to something more tolerable for mortal eyes. Patton smiles. He does prefer their forest to any manufactured illusions, the prince or the duke make, if simply because it feels so alive.
V seems to relax a little bit too; when Patton looks back, V’s shoulders aren’t pressed up against his ears anymore, his gaze tracing the little sparks of light that flit between the flowering trees. One of them flickers closer, darting past his face quickly, only for him to tentatively try and reach for it.
“…what is this?”
“It’s the forest, V,” Patton says softly, “this is where we live.”
“How is it so…” V seems to struggle for the word he wants. “…alive?”
“Magic,” the prince says with a wink. “No, really. That’s…that’s it.”
“But it’s so…so…” V mutters in frustration. “I hate words.”
“You’re not the only one, little mouse,” J murmurs, his hand still lingering on V’s shoulder, “words can be…difficult. You don’t have to use them if you don’t want to.”
“That being said,” Patton says quickly, “you don’t have to be afraid to say things, kiddo. We won’t get mad.”
V nods hesitantly. “Wait, so you all live here?”
“Yep.”
“H-how does that work? Do you, like…have separate…trees?”
The duke immediately perks up. “I told you guys we should make treehouses!”
“You have a treehouse,” L sighs, “that doesn’t mean the rest of us want one.”
“Why not? It’s so much easier to defend!”
“Only when we can’t fly.”
“You guys can fly?” Patton hears V mumble to J. “What is going on?”
“The others are getting excited again,” he hears J murmur back, “but I’m sure if you’d like to just ask Pat, we’d be happy to tell you.”
Patton gives L a look that says ‘try not to let them destroy everything, please,’ and turns back to V, gently asking if he’d repeat his question.
“We have different…rooms,” he decides on eventually, “even though they’re not as simple as your mortal conception of them. It’s more like…like…”
Patton huffs, putting his hands on his hips. “Wow, words really are hard.”
“Here here,” V mumbles.
“Let me try,” J says softly, “it’s as if you have a picture, yes? And the picture is drawn over several sheets of paper. You can only view the complete picture by stacking all of them on top of each other, but you can take each piece of paper separately.”
Patton blinks at him. V does too. J rolls his eyes. “Perhaps L would be able to explain it better. And quickly,” he says, glancing over Patton’s shoulder, it looks like they’re about to start fighting again.”
“Guys!” Patton chooses to ignore the duke tucking a rather large weapon behind his back. “How do we explain how our rooms work?”
L adjusts his glasses and holds out his hand. “V? Will you come here, please?”
V hesitates.
“I won’t hurt you,” L assures, “I won’t even touch you if you don’t want. I simply think this will be the best way to explain it.”
“You’re not—you won’t—you won’t just take me there, will you?”
L smiles at V’s nervous question. “You have my word I won’t.”
V crosses the forest slowly, stopping just in front of L’s outstretched hand. Slowly, L raises his hand to face his palm toward V. “Can you hold your hand up to mine, please?”
“W-what’re you going to do to me?”
“Not a thing,” L says softly, “I’m going to explain how the rooms work by cycling through different layers of reality by aligning our hands.”
Patton watches V slowly raise his hand to match L’s, smiling at how he presses his palm to L’s firmly.
“Now,” L says, “just hold it still for me?” V nods. “Good. Reality as you understand it is one layer. It is one of the multiple worlds that exist in the same space. In this forest, we can move between them.”
“How?”
“Each one of us—“ L gestures to the other fae— “are linked with one of the layers. By drawing on that power, we can move between them.”
L turns his hand slightly, his index finger pressing up against V’s middle finger. “This would be a different layer.”
He turns it again, replacing his index finger with his thumb. “And this, another.”
“S-so,” V murmurs, squinting at their hands, “which one is this?”
“It’s not quite as…linear as this example,” L says, “there isn’t a set ‘right’ layer, nor must you travel through the other layers to get to the one you want.”
“But then—“
“Go on,” L encourages when V cuts himself off, “then…?”
V swallows, his voice so low Patton has to strain to hear it. “Then how do I know which one’s the right one?”
J tenses beside Patton at the uncertainty in V’s voice.
“There isn’t a universal ‘right’ one, V, and there won’t be,” L says, quickly shushing V when he seems to react poorly to such a revelation, “but you don’t have to think of it that way.”
Judging by the defiant hunch of V’s shoulders, he isn’t pleased by this answer. L seems to realize that and takes a tiny step closer.
“V? Can you do something else for me?”
V nods.
“Interlace your fingers with mine.”
V raises his head, confused, but does as L asks.
“This,” L murmurs, indicating their hands, “is the layer we’re currently in. Your layer. The mortal layer. This is the one that will be most comfortable for you. You can go to the other layers, but it won’t always be as comfortable. That doesn’t mean you can’t go,” he assures quickly, “but if it helps, this one is the ‘right’ one, so to speak.”
V stares at their clasped hands, giving L’s hand an experimental squeeze. L squeezes back.
“C-can I see your rooms?”
“Of course,” L says, “but perhaps not today, hm? This has already been a lot for you, hasn’t it?”
V nods nervously. “S-sorry.”
“Don’t fret,” L soothes, giving V’s hand one last squeeze, “we’re not angry. It’s perfectly understandable.”
“Absolutely.” Patton glances around. Hmm…what’s the best way to do this? “Are you hungry, V?”
Another nervous nod.
“What kind of food do you like?”
“Maybe not that question,” J murmurs when V seems to stutter again.
L gently gets V’s attention. “When was the last time you ate?” When V can’t answer, he continues. “Your system won’t take well to eating large quantities of food right now, in that case. It would be better if you ate something small, easy on yourself, and then work up to larger meals, does that sound alright?”
“Why don’t we do this, then,” Patton suggests when V nods, “J, you and the duke and I will start on the food. L, Prince, why don’t you help V make his room?”
L gently takes V’s hand again, leading him toward the prince. The prince gives them a nod before speaking softly to V. Patton sinks into his room, only to lean on the nearest surface and sigh heavily.
“Why are we not killing them?”
“By all means,” J huffs, “do knock over absolutely everything, Duke.”
“They starved him, they tortured him, they made him afraid of everything,” the duke growls, “they made him dependent on the sense of right and wrong.”
“Yes, and right now you’re currently about to be dependent on your ability to not knock over everything.”
“Pat agrees with me,” the duke defends, “don’t you Pat?”
Patton busies himself with making a simple bread. Easy, like L said, nothing that will cause V’s system to freak out. He keeps his mouth closed because he knows if he opens it, he won’t be able to stop himself going feral either.
“Of course I agree,” he says quietly after the bread’s almost done, “but I want to take care of V more than I want to raze that village to the ground.”
“But—!”
“Patton’s right,” J interrupts, “V wants everything to stop. If we go out and do that, it could make him even worse.”
“Or it could make him better!”
“We can’t afford to take that risk,” Patton says, kneading the bread with perhaps slightly more force than necessary, “especially not with a mortal.”
The duke grumbles. “I don’t like this.”
“I know.” Patton dusts his hands off. “Neither do we.”
“If it’s any consolation,” J says, smirking, “I think it’s the first time V’s had anyone be so outraged at the thought of him hurt.”
“Well,” the duke huffs, “good. I’m not stopping.”
“I have no intention of asking you to.”
“Good.”
“Good.”
Patton chuckles, rolling his eyes fondly. “Enough, you two.”
“You need help?” The duke grins. “Get it? Knead?”
“No, I dough-n’t,” Patton replies as J groans, “I’m all good here, kiddo. Thanks for asking though.”
J eyes the small loaf of bread and the few fruits next to it. “Is that really all we’re going to give him?”
“I’m going to make sure the food is available, but…” Patton sighs. “L’s right. You know he is. Too much and…”
J fiddles with his gloves. “I don’t like this.”
“Join the fucking club,” the duke huffs, draping himself over J’s shoulders. “We gotta wait here until Princey and L’re done with him, right?”
Patton nods.
“Great. Help me think of more ways to fuck up the assholes who did this to V.”
“Duke!”
Luckily for everyone, not a few moments later, a door appears to Patton’s left along with three quick knocks.
“Come in?”
The door opens, revealing L and the prince, leading V into Patton’s ‘room.’ V looks around, spotting the duke still draped over J.
“Oh, they do that all the time,” the prince says, “you’ll get used to it.”
“You say as if you don’t do it as well, bro,” the duke sings.
“Did you get everything set up, V?” Patton asks quietly, ignoring the others.
V nods. “Thank you.”
Patton tilts his head. “For what?”
“F-for…” V stammers, his eyes widening. L quickly gets his attention.
“You’re welcome,” he says softly, “we’re happy to help.” He gives Patton a look that says he’ll explain later.
Patton pushes it aside, reaching for the food and setting it carefully in front of V. To his surprise, V doesn’t reach out for it right away, instead eyeing it warily.
“Wrap it up, Pat,” the prince says, clapping Patton on the shoulder, “so V can take it with him.”
“Wait, what?” Patton stares at him in confusion. “Where’re we going?”
“You expect us to welcome this little darling into our forest and not give him the grand tour?” The prince holds an offended hand to his chest. “How dare you.”
Patton’s about to open his mouth to argue that V should be resting, that’s the whole point of this, but something in the prince’s gaze tells him to leave it. So Patton carefully packs the food into a small bag, before handing it to V. And he can’t deny it sends a rush of warmth through him when V’s shoulders slump and he holds the bag securely.
“So,” the prince says, sweeping across back to V’s side, “shall we begin? Duke, Pat, if you please.”
L gives him a nod, quickly joining J and starting a hushed conversation. Patton simply shrugs and follows the duke and the prince out the door. He quickly realizes it’s not the only one; there are five doors in the forest near a small house. It’s very basic, nothing more than four walls and a roof with a simple door. That must be the place they made for V. Glancing at his own door as it closes behind him, he notes that each one is a different color. Pale blue for his own, a rich gold for J’s, bright red for the prince, deep green for the duke, dark blue for L. V seems more at ease now that he’s back in the forest. Pat smiles. Good, it’s good to see V already getting used to being here.
J was right, the garden really did want him.
He also realizes the prince has been very clever about their little party as they make their way around the forest, from the clearing, to the lake, back to the garden. The prince and the duke provide wonderfully distracting arguments and Patton is well-prepared to ask all the dumb questions so V has all the information he needs. Plus, it’s nice for him to stay close to V while the prince and the duke dash around in an effort to be so overly ridiculous there’s low amounts of pressure to take them seriously.
At one point, they actually get V to laugh.
They’re at the lake; it’s one of Patton’s favorite places in the forest. The prince has control of the area around the lake and the surface of the lake, the duke has free rein below. Sometimes, Patton will sit on one of the big lily pads and just let one of the duke’s creatures push him around. The surface of the lake is like a giant mirror, almost glass-like, with a few delicate ripples on its veneer. The prince, of course, has a small violet bird perched on his shoulder, a fawn nuzzling his hand. The duke, by contrast, doesn’t hesitate before diving into the lake, sending sparkling showers of water droplets every which way before re-emerging, grinning, held aloft by something Patton couldn’t hope to describe.
There isn’t a doubt that V’s adorable little awestruck expression is the best thing Patton’s seen in a while. The way his fingers loosen their death grip on his bag of food, reaching out almost involuntarily to let the fawn sniff his hand, trying to hide to subtle hitch in his breath when a little pink tongue darts out and licks his fingers.
“She likes you,” the prince says quietly, smiling at the fawn as it tries to get closer to V.
“Is that why she licked me?”
“I think so.”
A second later, there’s a massive arc of water as something huge heaves its way onto the shore.
“Duke!” The prince snaps away the water as quickly as he can. “Keep your slimy pets where they belong!”
“Don’t be mean,” the duke says, patting the head of the massive tentacled beast with its head flopped onto the shore, “he’s just saying hi!”
Patton looks at V, who…isn’t afraid of the massive head now lying beside him. Instead, he looks almost…curious?
As the prince and the duke continue to bicker, V slowly reaches out his hand toward the creature. The creature inclines its head, letting V stroke along the strange bumps. Then it huffs loudly, spraying all of them with a viscous green goo.
“Ah!” The prince cries out in horror as he’s splattered. “Duke!”
The duke is too busy laughing to answer. Patton sighs, taking off his glasses to snap away the gunk. He puts them back on his face to chide the duke when he sees V.
V’s laughing.
It’s a quiet laugh, more of a slight hum than anything else, but V’s smiling and it sounds warm and rumbly and amazing and Patton can’t help muffling his happy noise at seeing V laugh. The prince seems to have the same reaction, stopping midway through his tirade and smiling softly at V.
The duke promptly falls off the back of the creature in shock. Then his head pops back above water and he grins.
“That means he likes you!”
“I like him too,” V mumbles, still smiling as he examines the gunk on his hands, “…not so much this.”
“Everyone’s got their opinions,” the duke shrugs, getting out of the water and shaking himself off like a dog, much to V’s amusement and the prince’s dismay, “but we should probably get you cleaned up, hmm?”
“I-if—“ V’s gaze darts around to Patton— “is that okay?”
“Of course it’s okay, V,” Patton smiles, “why don’t we go back to your room?”
The prince leads them back, stopping once they’re in front of V’s four walls. He taps V’s less gooey shoulder gently. “Do you remember what L and I said about your room?”
V nods hesitantly.
“Would you like any help?”
V glances around at them and Patton smiles encouragingly.
“N-no.”
The prince smiles and gives his shoulder a gentle pat. “Okay. That’s perfectly okay. If you change your mind, which is also okay, just knock on whoever’s door you want, okay? We’ll know it’s you and we’ll come.”
“…thank you.”
“Of course, V.” The prince deliberately turns around, snagging the duke by his shoulder and taking Patton’s hand. Patton gives V one last wave over his shoulder before the prince pulls him back through his door.
L and J look up when they enter, standing from their seats. J’s hands are still worrying themselves a little and L adjusts his tie.
“What did you tell him?” The prince’s tone makes Patton’s ‘paying attention’ glasses snap on real quick.
“Not everything,” L says, “I was waiting for you.”
“Can someone tell me what’s going on, please?” The duke nods enthusiastically.
The prince and L exchange a glance before the prince gestures to L. L motions for them to take a seat.
“I’m sure it will not come as a surprise to you that the…mortals who were unkind to V controlled his access to food and water very rigorously,” L begins, “nor will it shock you to learn that V is not used to any modicum of privacy.”
It doesn’t, that doesn’t mean it’s any easier to hear.
“We—“ L gestures between himself and the prince— “did our best to assure him that his room is his own space; none of us will enter it without permission and he reserves the right to send us out at any point he wishes.”
The prince nods sharply. “And that he’s always allowed to say ‘no’ to things if we ask him.”
J raises an eyebrow. “Please tell me you gave him access to food.”
“Of course we did!” L nods in agreement. “He’s got a small garden and a tiny cupboard that connects to the pantry.”
“So I can refill it from here?”
“Or he can refill it himself.”
Patton nods in approval.
“That’s also what happens to his clothes,” L says, motioning to the other part of Patton’s space, “they’ll get deposited here when he wants them cleaned. We gave him some other clothes too.”
“I’m sure you explained all this to him too, right?”
L and the prince exchange a soft smile. “He asked for some of it,” L says, still smiling, “or at least brought up his concerns.”
Patton claps happily. “Oh, good for him!”
“Yes,” the prince murmurs, quickly sobering them with his low tone, “especially considering…”
“Right.” L takes a deep breath. “Surely you know this will not be as easy as simply giving him these things and expecting everything to work out.”
Patton tilts his head to the side. “It…it won’t?”
“No,” J says smoothly, “it won’t. It will take time. Mortals can be…remarkably hard to alter once they’ve been so used to something.”
A horrible sick feeling settles in Patton’s stomach again. He knows mortals are fragile, he knows that V has been hurt very, very badly, but the thought of it staying that way? When he doesn’t need to?
“He doesn’t know that yet,” J says patiently when Patton expresses as much, “and it’s going to take time for him to realize that. You said it yourself, we can’t just go in and fix everything. We need to let V do that himself.”
“At the very least,” L adds, “we’ve been trying to give him the tools to start.”
A soft thump makes them turn. Patton spots a small heap of dirty cloth on a nearby surface. He walks over and picks it up, fingering the worn stitches and the holes in the fabric.
The duke peers over his shoulder. “It’s V’s clothes.”
“He must be having a wash,” the prince says, “good. You absolutely drenched him.”
“That wasn’t me! It was Oliver!”
“What did you give him to wash with,” Patton interrupts. The prince shrugs.
“Modified version of the basins we use. Plenty of water, hot and cold, soap, things to clean with. Towels. Drains by itself too, right into the garden.”
“We gave him a proper room,” L assures, “a proper bed, a proper space.”
“You should’ve seen him,” the prince mumbles, “I never thought I’d see someone get so worried about being told they were allowed their own space. Especially a mortal, all the ones I’ve known have been so obsessed with taking.”
“You remember why, though.” As L speaks, the prince’s face darkens. Patton glances worriedly between them.
“What?”
L sighs. “It appears that…the mortals somehow convinced V that they were doing him…favors.”
Patton barely has time to blink before the duke is feral again. He reaches out and wraps his arms around the writhing mass of tentacles, joined quickly by the prince and J, muttering softly to the duke until the tentacles retreat.
L adjusts his glasses. “Quite.”
“That’s why he freaked out when Pat asked what he was thanking him for,” the duke growls, “the sick fucks probably made him be specific too.”
“Our priority,” L interrupts before the duke can convince the rest of them to go feral too—honestly, Patton’s already halfway there— “is to help V feel safe.”
Patton nods, only partly listening as L keeps talking, turning the tunic over in his hands. It’s worn, very worn, and so thin that Patton can feel his fingers grind together when he rubs the fabric between them. Is this all V had? For how long? It looks so old…
Wait. Is that…
Patton lifts the tunic a little, rubbing at a dark stain. His eyes widen. J catches sight of it.
“That better be blood.”
At the mention of the word ‘blood,’ L stops. Slowly, he walks over, holding out his hand. Wordlessly, Patton hands it over. L takes it in his hands and if Patton looks very, very closely, his hands tremble.
L takes a deep breath and hands the tunic back to Patton.
“We cannot push,” he repeats with practiced calm, “we must make V feel safe first. And that means we must trust him.”
Patton doesn’t like it. None of them do. But they know L is right.
“And…with any luck,” L adds, “a good sleep and a regular meal should start helping him some more.”
It should.
It doesn’t.
For a while, almost nothing changes. V still holds his food in a bag when Patton gives it to him. His eyes still dart around wildly whenever he goes on a walk with the prince or the duke. He still prefers to hide away in his room, coming out when they request, denying them access with a tinge of fear.
His clothes still come back with stains.
Patton would be lying if he said he wasn’t worried. This isn’t how mortals should be, they should be sleeping, they should be eating. But V seems to doggedly stay the same, still as tired and fearful as the day he stumbled into the garden. When Patton confronts L about it, L says that if he didn’t know any better, he’d say V wasn’t sleeping.
Patton doesn’t want to push, doesn’t want to shatter this tenuous bond, not now, not ever. But he’s worried.
There’s always a faint buzz in Patton’s chest that tells him where V is. He tries not to pay attention to it, give the kiddo his privacy, make sure he feels like he can come to Patton when he wants to, not when Patton wants him to. He takes care to watch how he talks around V, moves around V, is as gentle as he can be. The faint buzz seems to settle a little better whenever V’s around him.
Then one day it spikes. Horribly.
Patton doubles over, pressing a hand hard to his own chest as the whine sharpens, pushes, threatens to snatch his breath away. Instantly, he looks for it, trying to find it, comfort it, come on, kiddo, tell me what’s wrong—
V.
Where’s V?
Patton rushes out of his door, only to see V’s door wide open. With trembling footsteps, he slowly approaches, his heart in his throat, one hand still pressed firmly to his chest.
“V?” He calls softly, over and over, not wanting to intrude, but getting no response. “V, kiddo?”
He hesitates at the threshold. This is V’s space. They promised. He closes his eyes. Concentrates.
The pain isn’t coming from here.
He opens his eyes and focuses. There.
It’s one of those horrid little black clouds, buzzing away from a path leading deeper into the forest. Patton follows the noise until he’s wading through the clouds, pushing them out of the way, swatting the ones he can, until he sees V.
His heart aches as he takes in the absolute swarm threatening to choke the poor thing, curled up as he is at the base of a big tree. Patton gets a little closer, then crouches down and carefully, oh so carefully, pushes.
“V?”
V’s head jerks up, his eyes as wide as a startled fawn’s, his head jerking around until his gaze lands on Patton. Patton holds up his hands, smiling softly.
“Hey, kiddo,” Patton murmurs, still pushing at the swarm, “it’s okay. You just look at me, okay? That’s all you gotta do, just look at me.”
V looks. The swarm rushes in, trying to get between Patton and V but Patton focuses, the few clouds that come in between them disappearing into quick plumes of smoke. With each one that vanishes, the others seem wary, leaving V free to stare at Patton.
“Good,” Patton murmurs, “you’re doing really good, kiddo. Can you take a deep breath for me? In…and out…in…and out…good job, kiddo, just like that.”
The whine in Patton’s chest starts to die down, the rest of him aching to reach out and take V in his arms. The poor thing looks so scared…
“P-Pat?”
“Yeah, V,” Patton says instantly, “I’m right here, you want me closer?”
V reaches out a trembling hand and Patton doesn’t hesitate.
V clings to his cloak like a lifeline, still curled up in a ball, just his one hand sticking out. Patton lets V tug him close, huddling around him at the base of the tree, softly murmuring to him.
“Shh, shh, kiddo,” he says, trying to center his shield to keep the worst of the swarm out, “you’re doing so good, you just keep breathing for me, okay?”
It takes a long time. Much longer than Patton would like. But eventually, when the last of the whining has faded to a confused buzz, V’s hand relaxes, the fabric still all bunched up from the force of his grip.
“S-sorry,” he mumbles.
“You don’t have to apologize, kiddo,” Patton soothes immediately, “you did the right thing.”
V looks up at him, eyes wide and rimmed red. “…I did?”
Patton smiles. “You did. You did so well, you breathed, you asked for what you wanted. You did so well, kiddo.”
And oh does it hurt to see how much just that one little piece of praise means to V, and how little he must’ve received.
Patton knows he’s not supposed to push. But then V reaches for him again with trembling hands and he can’t help himself.
“Come here, sweetie,” he murmurs, pulling V into a gentle hug, “there you go…you just breathe for me, okay? You don’t have to talk, you don’t have to worry, you don’t even have to think if you don’t want to. You just breathe…”
As he rocks V gently back and forth, he runs his hand down V’s head, across his shoulders, down to his back. V hisses and tenses when Patton’s hand touches something.
“…V?”
“Don’t be mad,” V stammers instantly, pulling away, “d-don’t be mad.”
Patton raises his hands. “I’m not mad, kiddo, I promise. I’m not mad and I’m not going to hurt you.”
The whine sharpens again as V tugs the tunic tightly around himself. Patton watches, concern written plainly across his features. He waits. Waits. Waits. Until…
“…I need help,” V whispers, his head almost buried in his arms, “please.”
“Of course,” Patton coos instantly, “of course, V, I’ll help you, what do you need?”
“C-can we go to m-my room?”
“Yes, sweetheart, we can go to your room. Do you feel up to walking?”
V clutches himself tighter. “…in a minute.”
“Take your time, kiddo, I’m not going anywhere.”
In a moment, V lets his head fall back against the tree and takes a deep breath. In another, he pushes himself to his feet. A few more and they’re standing outside V’s door.
“You can change your mind, kiddo,” Patton says gently when V hesitates, “I won’t be mad.”
For a moment, he thinks V’s going to say no, Patton can leave, please, then he clenches his jaw and reaches out to take Patton’s hand. He grips it firmly and lets V pull him into the house.
“…can you shut the door?”
Patton does as bid, having a quick glance around, making a note to commend the prince and L for their job. It’s a very simple house, but it’s cozy. He refocuses on V, who has his back to him, clutching the sides of his tunic.
V’s shoulders shake. “…it hurts, Pat.”
“Where,” Patton murmurs, “where does it hurt?”
“My…my back.”
“Your back, kiddo? Can I come look?” V nods, bowing his head. “Thank you, V.”
Patton walks over slowly, making his footsteps loud and obvious, so that he won’t surprise V. “Can I touch you, kiddo?”
“…please don’t hurt me.”
“I won’t, sweetie,” Patton murmurs, “I promise. Can I lift up the back of your tunic?”
“Y-yeah.”
“Thank you.” Taking the material gently in hand, Patton starts to lift it up slowly.
“W-wait!”
Patton freezes. V’s breaths grow ragged, clutching himself tighter.
“I can leave if you—“
“No!”
V breathes. Breathes. Patton’s heart stays in his throat, holding still, trying to project as much safety as he can. It takes a few more heart-wrenching seconds before V shudders.
“O-okay. You can lift it up now.”
“Thank you,” Patton murmurs, starting to move again. He manages to tuck the end of the tunic around V’s collar, exposing his back.
And the scars.
Patton knew some whipped other mortals, knew that cruel mortals used their horsewhips liberally, but never had he seen the end result. Certainly not like this. Gruesome comets streak across V’s back of red and silvered white. The skin wheezes and stretches as he breathes. Some looked old. Some still wept, crying sluggish and lumpy tears of blood.
“S-sorry,” he hears V mumble, “I’m sorry.”
“V,” Patton says quietly, “V, I need you to listen to me for a moment.”
V nods.
“You don’t have to apologize,” Patton says firmly, “not for this. Never for this. This is not your fault, it will never be your fault. And I will never be angry at you for it.”
V’s back shudders with the weight of Patton’s words. Then his hands slowly drop to his sides. Patton lets out a breath he didn’t even know he’d been holding.
“I can’t reach them,” V mumbles, “I…I need help.”
“Thank you for letting me help,” Patton says, lifting his hand and letting it glow, “these won’t take a moment to heal, you won’t be able to—“
“No, don’t!” Patton pauses as V cries out. “Don’t heal them, please, not completely, I need—I need to have them.”
Patton’s blood runs cold. “Why do you need to have them, V?”
“I—I—“
Patton glances around, spotting a stool. “Here,” he murmurs, summoning it quickly, “sit down, honey, you’re shaking.”
V sits, hunching over, bearing his back for all to see, the scars wincing horribly as he does so. Patton stays close, resting a hand lightly on his shoulder, just so V knows he’s there, that nothing will startle him.
“You don’t have to explain in detail if you don’t want,” Patton assures, “but…I would like to know why you don’t want them healed all the way.”
V mumbles something. Patton squeezes his shoulder.
“I can’t quite hear you, is it okay if I come a little closer?” At V’s nod, Patton crouches next to his head. “Thank you. Can you say it again for me?”
“If…if I don’t have them,” V whispers, “it’s like—it’s like it didn’t happen. It’s like I’m—I’m crazy, I’m wrong, I don’t—I can’t—“
Oh. Patton swallows. “You need them to remember,” he says softly, “to remind yourself that you survived.”
V nods.
“Oh, sweetie, thank you for telling me. I won’t make them go away, I promise. Would you like to at least make them stop hurting you?”
V nods again. “I…I can’t sleep. They hurt.”
Patton, who had stood up and begun lightly running his hand to close the wounds, frowns. “What about sleeping on your stomach or your side?”
V shakes his head quickly. “Can’t. It’s bad. I can’t—can’t do anything then.”
Right. Being on his stomach would put him in such a vulnerable position…and if he doesn’t want to…
“V,” Patton says, gently stroking an unmarred patch of skin with his thumb as he works, “do you not feel safe enough to sleep here?”
V’s back tenses under his hand and Patton rubs a soothing circle into it.
“It’s okay if you don’t, kiddo,” he says softly, “I’m not angry, I’m just curious.”
“…sorry.”
“Don’t apologize, sweetie, you haven’t done anything wrong. This is still new to you, you’re still coming to terms with the fact that you’re safe now, you’re somewhere else, away from them.”
“B-but…” V shudders again. “Y-you’ve been so nice and you haven’t hurt me at all but I can’t help feeling like—like—“
“…it’s only a matter of time?”
“…yeah.”
Patton hums, thinking as he finishes. He takes a damp towel and softly asks V if he can clean him off a little. As he rubs the soft towel in soothing motions, he says, “I can’t make all your fears go away, kiddo, nor can I tell you you shouldn’t be afraid. It’s okay that you’re afraid, really. We’ll be here to help you.”
“Y-you will?”
Patton gives him one last pat before he gently lowers the tunic and lays the towel aside. He walks around to the front and crouches, tucking a hand under V’s chin and gently encouraging him to make eye contact.
“Yes, V,” he promises, “we’ll be here.”
V’s gaze, so horribly unsure and scared, has just the smallest bit of hope in it, and that’s enough for Patton. He smiles, only grinning wider when V hesitantly smiles back.
“You also don’t have to sleep here,” Patton says, “you can sleep anywhere you like.”
An adorable wrinkle forms between V’s brows. “Really?”
“Yeah, kiddo.” Patton gestures around. “We made this so you could have your own space, but it’s okay if you don’t feel like sleeping here. It’s okay if you never want to sleep here.”
He reaches up and gently rubs at V’s chest, right over his heart.
“You sleep wherever you feel safest, okay, kiddo?”
“Okay.”
Patton smiles. “Good. Good job, kiddo, you did so well. I’m so proud of you.”
He stands, guiding V’s chin up too until he can lean down and lightly kiss his forehead. “Do you want anything else?”
“N-no,” V mumbles, “I’m good. Thank you.”
“Always.”
Patton leaves V’s room, carefully shutting the door behind him, before opening the door to his own and going inside. As he goes, he finds the latest bloody tunic and washes it personally.
Slowly, he dips the fabric into the water, scrubbing persistently at the stain. No more. No more. Never again. Never again.
No one will touch V again. Nothing will ever make those wounds on his back bleed. Not on his watch.
“Pat?”
“In here,” Patton calls, hanging up the tunic and going to meet the others. L stands in the corner, J by his side. The prince swings around quickly when he enters, pulling up the duke by his shoulder. “Thank you for coming so quick.”
“Of course,” L says instantly, “it was important.”
Patton tells them what he’s learned, leaving out any parts that V confessed to him personally. He won’t tell V’s story for him, just tells the others about things he learns to take care of him. As to be expected, they’re not happy about it.
“What else can we do,” the prince cries, “to make him feel safe? Are we not—are we not doing enough?”
“We’re doing all that we can,” L says, even as he nervously adjusts his tie, “but…it will take time. The fact that V feels comfortable enough to tell us this already speaks volumes. We must…simply continue being patient.”
“But if he’s not sleeping,” the duke argues, then—
“L is right,” Patton says, even as the duke grumbles, “we just have to…be patient.”
J reaches out, taking one of their hands in one of his. He squeezes, draws them closer. They wrap their arms around each other, buzzing gently. Patton knocks his head lightly against the duke’s and rests his head on J’s shoulder.
They knew this wasn’t going to be easy. He’s not sure they realized just how hard it would be. But they’ll figure it out. They will. For V.
As it turns out, maybe they’ve made more progress than they thought.
The prince sends out a call the next morning, saying V’s not in his room. The duke tears off around the forest, J heads for the garden. L makes for the lake, Patton stays behind in case he comes back. But just as he’s grabbing a sack of food to give to V just in case they find him, he hears something soft in the pile of clean, dry clothes. He frowns, walking over, only to see—
Patton’s breath catches in his throat and he smiles so wide his cheeks ache.
V is curled up in the warm pile, clinging to one of J’s cloaks and one of Patton’s shirts draped around his shoulders. For the first time since Patton’s seen him, his face is slack, free of any stress or tension. He looks young, peaceful.
It’s the most adorable thing he’s ever seen.
Yeah, he thinks as he lets the others know he’s found V, everything’s okay, we’ll figure it out.
#sanders sides#virgil sanders#patton sanders#remus sanders#roman sanders#janus sanders#deceit sanders#logan sanders#fic#dragonbabbles#fae au#lamp#dlamp#dlampr#platonic lamp#platonic dlamp#platonic dlampr#sympathetic deceit#sympathetic remus#sympathetic light sides
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IMPORTANT NOTICE
[Please read this, it’s important.]
//Hey everyone, it’s the mod here.
//In case it wasn’t already obvious, I need to make a very relevant announcement, because it relates to the future of this blog.
//I did mention beforehand that I would be making this announcement, and whether or not it’s good or bad remains to be seen.
//I will say outright that I don’t plan on stopping the blog. I am determined to see this series all the way to the end, even if it takes me ages. And I know there have been many times that I’ve had to delay, or cut short posts because of personal reasons, and I cannot thank the people who follow this blog enough for continuing to read my stuff, despite all of this.
//Hence why today’s announcement is so important. I don’t know exactly how long ago it was, but between a few weeks and a month ago, I said I was going to delay the start of the current arc because of a personal thing I was dealing with. I then had to delay it longer because I got sick with COVID-19.
//I didn’t really shed any details about what that was, because I didn’t think it relevant, and thought it quite personal, but now that I’m officially in this phase, my situation is now going to affect my writing, so I’d rather make clear what it is to the followers of the story, so that we can all be on the same page.
//Tomorrow, I will be starting university.
//This is a big deal. My life is transitioning into a new phase, and with it comes many more challenges, but also many more opportunities.
//I’ll be studying animation for those who are curious. Perhaps I may be able to use some of the things I’ve learned on the blog? Who knows?
//Anyhow, the point is that I received my timetable, and in case it wasn’t already obvious, I am going to be very busy and jam-packed with assignments right from Day 1.
//So in order to make time for the blog, I have to rearrange some things relating to the schedule, and I would like to very quickly talk about this. I will be implementing some new rules for the followers and askers.
//THESE ARE SUBJECT TO CHANGE. Since I have yet to start Uni, I don’t actually know the full proceedings of my timetable, or what times I have available to myself. But for now, let’s go with it.
1: IT’S LIKELY I WILL NEED TO TAKE THURSDAY’S OFF AS WELL.
//As most of you know, I don’t do anything relating to the blog on Tuesday’s. The reason was because I started this blog back when I was in college, and Tuesday’s were days where I got home late in the evening, and couldn’t write because I didn’t have the energy.
//My current university timetable tells me that BOTH Tuesday’s AND Thursday’s will be the same case. My classes supposedly end at 9pm on those days, which I think is extraordinarily late to get out of class, but all the same, it’s usually the time that I write things for the blog.
//I simply won’t be able to make time for blog stuff on these days, so unless I get any further notice about my timetable, I won’t be able to do anything for the blog on Tuesday and Thursday.
2: CHANGES ARE GOING TO BE MADE TO SPRITE EDIT REQUESTS.
//As most of you probably already know, I’m not against creating sprites or sprite edits for the blog. Doing so is not only fun, but also helps enhance my drawing and ability to use programs like Photoshop.
//However, it’s become unfortunately clear to me that many people overestimate my ability, and send through requests that require me to completely change the characters outfit, hairstyle, just basically everything about it.
//To be honest, I simply do not have the time to go through all of these sprite edits I’ve been sent and make them. It’s far too much effort for something that happens way too often.
//As of such, I’m making some new rules regarding sprite edits, and that rule dictates if I deem a request for an edit too arduous, or too time consuming, I will delete it, and not answer the question.
//I know it’s not fair, and I know it’s hard to tell what edits are and aren’t low effort for me, but I am a single person with a limited range of talent and capability. I cannot handle to dubious amount of work I’m given, especially now I’m going to be crushed under assignments and everything of the like thanks to my new school.
3: TIME I SPEND ANSWERING ASKS IN THE EVENINGS WILL DECREASE.
//Usually, when I answer asks in the evenings, I tend to start at 9pm and answer asks until 10:30pm. On days where I’m tired, I usually knock that down to about 1 hour instead.
//Now, I feel the 1 hour mark will be a permanent thing I need to implement, meaning on most days I will only be doing 1 hours worth of answering.
//Emphasis however on MOST days. As I said already, Thursdays are out of the question depending on how my timetable shapes up in the end. I will probably do my regular format on Friday’s and weekends.
//This one probably matters the least, I just wanted to let people know in case they were curious.
//That’s all for now. I’ll repeat again, if it ends up being that my timetable goes through any last minute changes and we can simply go through the format we’re going through now, then I will make a future post explaining that.
//I apologize greatly if this ends up being an inconvenience for some. I know I’ve done this a lot, and I hope you can find it in you to understand that living two kinds of life is difficult.
-Mod
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“heartstrings series: intro” [wayv]
genre: fluff + LONG
ficstyle: bulletpoints + series [INTRO]
summary: everyone knew you were in love with an oblivious boy but you didn’t know that others were in love with you
songs to listen to while reading this: you call it romance - k.will ft davichi + day 1 - k.will
note: (I’M SORRY I’M JUST WRITING MY OWN STUFF RIGHT NOW, BUT I’LL TRY TO GET TO MY REQUESTS ASAP)
you were a hopeless romantic
maybe you watched too many shoujo animes and read too many romance mangas
but it made you a sentimental person; one who stay up at night to look at the stars
a forgiving person; one who believe in second chances
an observant person; one who’s always in the background
if you were a character in a romcom drama, you would be the best friend of one of the most popular girls in the school
the one that’s just there to fill in space and have a couple lines to add onto the plot
the one that all the guys overlook because the one that they are looking at is the pretty girl that’s sitting next to you
and if guys did talk to you, they treated you like you were just one of the boys
you were used to it
but you always had a feeling that there will be someone for you
so you didn’t mind waiting
also because how can any regular guy compete with your 2D boyfriends
that was until you met Lucas
he was the new transfer student; and boy, oh boy, he was STUNNING
all the girls swooned for him in an instance
even you fell victim to the boy’s visuals
you heard he had a brother that was pretty good looking too but you were too busy admiring Lucas to see what he looked like
you could say he was your first, real crush
you were playing so many scenarios in your head that you didn’t see the tall boy exiting the bathroom
you were about fall on your butt but you felt his arms wrap around you
“are you okay?”
you looked up and saw someone you didn’t recognized
but he was pretty handsome, he looked like a prince
“y-yeah.. yeah I’m okay..” you muttered as he helped you up
“hey bro, you ready for basketball tryouts!” you recognized his voice, that was Lucas
your face got more and more red, the closer and closer he got
“oh hey you..” Lucas smiled as he offered a high five
your eyes widened as you received his high five, “you know me?”
“yeah~ you’re in my class! you know Hendery?” he points to the guy who’s still standing there
“no.. I just.. bumped into him..” you muttered, you had a hard time keeping eye contact with him
Hendery saw how flustered you were, but he knew you weren’t flustered over him
“hey.. I’m Hendery, Luca’s brother..”
your jaws slightly dropped, eyes shifted back and forth between the two handsome guys, “oh.. Oh...OH....”
“yeah, we gotta go to tryouts.. see ya later Y/N” Lucas waves at you before dragging Hendery
Hendery kept looking behind his shoulder at you, “you know she likes you right?”
“huh? her? nah, man.. I mean with MY face, I can see how she can be starstruck but I don’t think she’s like INTO ME, into me... hmm.. no yeah.. I don’t think so” Lucas babbles as he tries to play it off
Hendery face drops in disappointment, he can’t believe that his brother is so oblivious
he can’t believe that his brother can’t see that this beautiful girl has completely fallen for him.. like he fell for her
Hendery shoved his feelings aside for his brother
why?
because he was never strong enough show his feelings; that’s his weakness
you were looking for after school clubs that ended at the same time basketball practice
this is your last year of high school, maybe you should join a low effort club
so you thought it was a good chance to wait for Lucas; a confession would be too much but just talking would be fine, right?
you came across an empty music room; empty meaning there wasn’t anyone around but there was an abundance of instruments
you sat down with the guitar and started to strum and hum
you were so into it that you didn’t notice the quiet boy standing by the door
“hey do you wanna join our band?!” he was sounded so excited, he probably forgot that the room echoed
you almost dropped the guitar, “WHO ARE YOU?”
he puts his arms up to show that he’s innocent, “I-I’m Xiaojun from class 2-B..”
“oh you’re an underclassman... you’re in a band?” you asked as you relaxed
“yeah.. we need a vocalist and you got a great voice.. a sub guitarist wouldn’t be too bad ei..ther...”
Xiaojun’s sentence draws out as he sees your face clearly
you were so pretty in his eyes and your voice was the cherry on top
you placed the guitar down and smiled at him, “what makes you think I can’t be the main guitarist?”
he shook his daydreams away and smiled back at you, “because I’M the main guitarist..so you’re gonna have to fight me for it”
he’s just thinking how he’s finally talking to his crush since his 1st year of high school
BUT making sure that you didn’t know about his feelings because he wouldn’t know how to act or what to say
“hey Y/N, ready to go home?”
you turned to see your childhood friend and your neighbor; your surprised face melted into a warm smile
which worried Xiaojun
“hey Kun~”
“oh hey Xiaojun!” Kun goes over to pat Xiaojun on the back
“you know Xiaojun?”
“yeah we’re in a band!”
you frowned at your friend, “you never told me you were in a band!”
Kun pinches your cheeks, noting how cute you look when you pout, “yeah because if I did, I would have to introduce you to my good-looking band mates..”
you swatted his hands away
“yeah yeah whatever... now I know that you’re not in that weird cooking club..”
“he’s actually in that club..” Xiaojun said with a slip of the tongue which got Kun glaring at him
“it’s not weird...” Kun murmured
“hmm what is this aroma, is it oregano? mixed with rosemary? oh it has to be rosemary,” you clowned Kun for a conversation he had with a member from the cooking club back when you two were 1st years
Kun yells through his embarrassment and tries cover your mouth
Xiaojun kind of saw this moment in slow motion; it was like a cheesy scene out of a k-drama
“you guys dating?” he thought he said it in his head but he said it
out loud
for you and Kun to hear
“WHAT?” Kun’s ears started to get red
“NO!” you said at the same time
no one could see how Kun was slightly upset by your quick rejection tinged with a little bit of disgust
“Kun is like my brother! I’ve known him since I was a baby, that would be weird to date him..” you shuddered
Xiaojun nodded in relief and started to set up the room
“wow, you’re not gonna tell him that you used to call me “my prince charming” up until middle school?”
Kun tried to brush off his disappointment by making fun of you, he ruffled your hair
before you could say anything, he started to shove you out the door, “think about joining the band, but for now you gotta go.. we got practice!”
he shut the door on your way out
you stuck your tongue out at him
you looked at your phone to look at your time
“I need to go now or I’ll miss Lucas..”
you started to dash through the empty halls
you passed another guy but you didn’t pay too much attention to him
his hair grazed his lashes, he was adorned with lots of ear piercings, airpods in his ears, phone in his hands and had a pair of drumsticks not chicken in his tote
you made eye contact with him and he gave you a smirk of a smile
which made you look away so fast and suddenly you were thinking if you were running weird and started to fast walk instead
as you made it to the end of the hall, the boy had entered the music room
“hey Ten!” the two boys greeted him
“hey..”
you continued turned to see if the boy was gone before you started to run again
you didn’t want anyone to judge the way you ran or thought of you as the weird 3rd year student who spends her time after school running halls of the school
you cursed the school for being so big
you estimated that if would talk you a whole 3 minutes, if you ran, you would make it to the basketball courthouse that was separated from the gym
being as non-athletic as you were, you were having second thoughts if this boy was really more important than your lack of air
in those second thoughts, you ran into something
Newton’s first law of motion came into play
and the external force?
was brighter than the sun itself
AND?
you were laying, in pain, on that sun
“are you hurt?” the sun said with a smile
“what? no.. are YOU hurt? I’m SO sorry!!” you frantically got off him and offered your hand to help him up
he took it as he kept on smiling
“I have to go... I’m running late..once again, I’m sorry!!” you apologized as you fast walked
he smiled as he rubbed his chest, “that kinda hurt.. but for some reason.. I don’t mind it..”
“hey YangYang! are you gonna start the meeting or what?” the student council VP said through the doors down the opposite side of the hall
“yeah yeah.. coming!”
you finally made it to the gym so the basketball courthouse would only be around the corner
you spotted a tall guy with a bag similar to Lucas so you ran up to him
“hey Lucas!” you tried not to sound out of breath
when the guy turned around, you immediately started to apologize which you have doing a lot more today
“I’m sorry, I thought you were a friend of mine-”
“you’re Kun’s friend right?” he interrupted you
your brows knitted together in confusion, “you know me?”
“yeah.. Kun talks about you all the time.. I’m WinWin, I play the bass for same band as him..” he stuck his hand out for you to shake
you shook his hand as you saw a couple of girls you recognized from the Traditional Chinese Dance team giggle as they came up to WinWin, “good luck on your solo performance, WinWin..”
he nods at them and put his hand up to acknowledge them
“you have a solo performance? how do you have time to do both dancing and being in a band?”
he smiles at you as he hoists his bass case, “when you find things you love to do, you make time for them..”
and with that he left
“Y/N?”
you turned to see Lucas waving at you with Hendery by his side
you ran all this way and Lucas was the one to find you first
“hey Lucas... Hendery..” you gave them a small smile, mind was clouded with Winwin’s words
“you okay?” Lucas asked, Hendery looked just as worried
“yeah..” you were happy that Lucas seemed worried about you but you didn’t want him to, “are you free?”
“hmm? yeah I am now.. just gonna head to get something to eat with Hendery!”
Hendery read the lines of the situation and said, “you go with Y/N, I need to go home first. I got LOTS of homework and I can scavenge the something in the fridge..”
he was getting the keys to unlock his bike out from his bag
before either you or Lucas could put in a word, Hendery waved at you too, “see you when you get home! and get me something to-go! bye Y/N!”
and with that, he took off on his bike
Lucas rubbed the back of his neck; kind of confused by the situation and nervous because this is the first time he’s talking to you, by himself
he didn’t keep anything that Hendery told him before about you in his mind
“so.. are you okay with the diner on 7th Avenue? that’s where Hendery and I were gonna go, you know... we were craving burgers... and like, saw that that place had good reviews...so.. uh, you down?”
you smiled as you tucked the hairs in your face behind your ear, “yeah.. I’m down..”
you and Lucas made small talk on your way to the diner as he dragged his bike along
your shadows slightly touching each other even though there’s some distance between you and Lucas
the golden hour made his golden skin glow even more and you never thought that you could ever fall for anyone so effortlessly
he opened the door for you as he excitedly talk about his favorite combo of sweet and salty, “Y/N! Y/N! you HAVE to try the milkshake and fries together, it’s my guilty pleasure!!”
you couldn’t help but smile over his excitement of milkshakes and fries
and you couldn’t help but fall hopelessly more and more in love with him
is it possible to fall in love with him in only a day?
and is it possible for him to fall in love with someone like you?
only time will tell
will you be the one to pluck his heartstrings?
or will it be someone else..
or, will someone unexpected pluck your heart?
Are you still watching “The Heartstrings Series?”
-Continue watching?
-Exit
[ masterlist + guidelines ]
#wayv#wayv imagines#wayv scenarios#wayv fic#wayv fanfic#wayv reactions#weishenv#wayv hendery#wayv lucas#wayv xiaojun#wayv yangyang#wayv kun#wayv winwin#wayv ten#hendery imagines#lucas imagines#xiaojun imagines#yangyang imagines#kun imagines#winwin imagines#ten imagines#qian kun#chittaphon leechaiyapornkul#dong sicheng#huang xuxi#wong yukhei#xiao dejun#wong kunhang#huang guanheng#liu yangyang
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kkyam royalty au 1
okay I have two fic ideas that are centred around a royalty au and i wanted to post both on here and see which ones ppl preferred!
here’s royalty au 1 i’ll post the second one tomorrow
(ps this is un beta’d and it is 2:40am so i have not looked over it at all. just typed and hit send)
“You come here often?” Kakashi ask sleazily.
It’s a cheap shot. He knows that, he’s sure he’s had better one liners at the tavern after one too many drinks but Kakashi can’t bring himself to care. The entire night has been occupied by stuck up nobility and empty conversations that carried across the ballroom. He’s just surprised he has managed to survive the entire night despite not coming from a royal lineage himself, it seems that all that condescending behaviour blocks all common sense and Kakashi tries not to be too smug about it. It’s a good thing he’s an excellent liar and charming if he really put his mind to it, and now he’s putting all his effort into trying to swoon this doe-eyed brunette. Kakashi hasn’t seen him before unlike the other parties of the monarchy who often were presented during ceremonies and announcements, so he assumes he is visiting from another kingdom. It’s perfect, Kakashi thinks, he’ll bag a noble for one night and never see them again.
“Yes actually,” the brunette answers frowning and it catches Kakashi by surprise. “Konoha’s been my home since I was born. I suppose you are visiting?”
Well, that’s one idea out the window so Kakashi replies dumbfoundedly, “Uh, yes.”
It seems to jerk the brunette awake. “I apologise for I have misplaced my manners, good sir.” he says before straightening his shoulders and giving a bow. “I am Yamato, nobleman of Konoha.”
Kakashi quickly dips into a bow. “Kakashi, crown prince of the Hatake kingdom.”
Yamato raises a brow. “I don’t recall the Hatake family mentioning a visit to the kingdom.”
The crown prince disguise had worked well the whole evening and if Kakashi is going to be honest with himself, it also gave his ego a small nudge but now his ego is deflating because it seems like he decided to try to court one of the only smart people in this ballroom.
“It was all very last minute, so I apologise for the short notice.”
The back of Kakashi’s neck prickles with heat and he resists the urge to ease the collar from his throat. The tavern is going to have a ball when they find out he got kicked out from the ball because he found a guy attractive.
A small, almost bashful smile encompasses Yamato’s face instead and he amicably says. “I apologise I did not mean to doubt your presence. How are you finding the ball?”
“Eh,” Kakashi says loosening up and his shoulders return to their usual hunched position. “Everyone here is on their high horse.”
For a moment, Yamato looks horrified but then he laughs. Gentle and warm, and it invites Kakashi to relax further. “You’re very honest, do they allow the crown prince of your kingdom such brash honesty?”
Kakashi returns a laugh because he is the opposite of honest. He is conning this poor man with his endless spindle of lies from the moment he had opened his mouth. “I’m only honest to people that I like,” he winks, “but I’m sure there are more honest people than me.”
Yamato shakes his head. “I’ve been attending these royal balls since I was a child. Everybody treats you like you’re below them and make you feel small over the silliest things.”
“Why do you keep attending them?” Kakashi asks and tries to ignore the sincerity that pools in his chest. “Can you not decline the invitation? It would save you from a lot of misery and hassle.”
“I seldom do,” Yamato’s eyes slide to the side and breaks their eye contact. “My aunt she—she’s very high up and it’s pertinent I attend these events to create connections with other kingdoms.”
Kakashi squashes the warmth of sincerity and replaces it with the hot rush of want. “Do you want to make a connection with me?” he offers haughtily and Yamato rewards him with a scandalised expression and a wonderful flush that disappears under his collar.
His smile is timid but Yamato’s voice is firm when he says, “I’m not opposed to the idea of making connections with you.”
“Let’s go make our connection somewhere less crowded.” Kakashi says and offers his arm.
Yamato quietly latches onto the crook of Kakashi’s elbows and Kakashi escorts him out to the courtyard. They are greeted by the cool air of the evening and the luminescent glow of the moon who casts a soft spotlight on the shrubbery below her. The roses sleep gently under the calm glow of the moon, they rest because they are tired after dancing with the sun all morning. The rest of the greenery follows suit, all the branches hang low, the leaves don’t dance as they sleep to the orchestra of chirping crickets. The courtyard is large and paves a quarter of the unending garden, its stones are smooth and even unlike the rough cobbled pavements in the centre of town. The courtyard is fenced off by a low stone wall which Kakashi hops onto and pats the space next to him, offering Yamato to do the same.
They’re both facing away from the large doors of the ballroom and Yamato tilts his head back as if he’s drinking in the light of the moon. “This is my favourite place in the palace.” He says quietly like a confession.
“I can see why. It’s peaceful out here.” Kakashi says in agreement. “What do you like to do for fun, Yamato?”
“What do you mean?” Yamato answers. His head snaps down to look at Kakashi and he almost looks baffled.
Kakashi quirks a brow. “You know, when you’re not doing these parties or your duties? What do you do in your spare time?”
Yamato bites his lip drawing Kakashi’s attention. “I like to tend this garden.” He decides after a moment.
“Is that all?” Kakashi presses. He’s not a royal but he’s sure Yamato has at least some hobbies that don’t involve standing around and looking pretty all day.
Even under the moonlight Kakashi can see the deep blush that spreads on Yamato’s face. “Well,” he starts. “I like sword fighting and I used to practice with the knights until they found—well, let’s just say nobody really liked to challenge me. The knights were all frightened they’d accidentally hurt me and then would get executed.”
Kakashi can’t help the laugh that escapes his mouth. “Really?” he says gleefully. “I never expected you to be invested in combat.”
Yamato looks away then. “I was interested in a lot of different things, but I had to whittle it down because it didn’t seem right, for someone like me to do them.”
Someone like Yamato? “I thought noblemen could do whatever they wanted as long as it didn’t betray the kingdom.” Kakashi frowns. He’s sure he had seen the duke wandering around doing activities that Kakashi wouldn’t crown ‘duke-ly’.
“I guess they just have high expectations,” Yamato shrugs. “Enough about me, you’re the crown prince! I’m sure you have much more exciting things to share than me.”
“Where do I start?” Kakashi says coolly as he rapidly searches through all his memories. How the hell was he going to fabricate a royal story? He had many in the town and in the countryside, but they all consisted of him working or training and neither seemed princely. He then forces himself to remember all those conversations he had with those prudish Lords and Ladies in hopes of bringing up a hobby that was vaguely plausible.
“If you don’t mind,” Yamato breaks his rapid-fire train of thought. “Can I ask how you received your scar?”
Kakashi’s fingers find the line that staggers under his eye before it disappears into his mask. “It was from an attack,” he answers honestly for the first time that evening. “My friend and I were out where we weren’t meant to be, and we had been ambushed. This was from a knife.”
He brushes his hair from his brow and slowly follows the ridge of his brow, over the curve of his eyelid and then over the soft fabric of the mask. Yamato’s eyes follow the path carefully, his eyes bright under the moonlight and his mouth slightly open in awe. “Is that why you wear the mask? For your safety?”
Kakashi nods quickly in agreement.
“You’re lucky to have survived, Prince Kakashi.” Yamato quips and hearing his name in Yamato’s mouth makes his heart jump.
“It was a fair fight.” Kakashi says easily. “I won in the end anyway.”
Yamato’s eyes widen and he sits up eagerly. “Do you get to train at your palace?”
Kakashi thinks of the field. It is by no means a training room nor the mighty barracks that housed the knights. During winter, when the ground froze over, was when he would accumulate the most bruises after a spar and during summer, the soil would be so dry that it would kick up everywhere. It ended in his eyes, his hair, under his nails and he always came home dirty. He thinks of his makeshift targets and dummy, the way they’ve been branded with marks since he was a child and how they’re worn and yellowed with age. He wonders if Yamato had managed to brandish a shiny sword at all and practice his footing on even ground.
“Yes, all the time.” Kakashi answers and he can’t look into Yamato’s eyes. “I begged my father so I could protect myself and it proved worthy.”
Suddenly his hands are engulfed with Yamato’s own warm ones. “Could you teach me something?” he asks earnestly.
Yamato is smiling so widely and Kakashi realises that Yamato may be the only genuine face he has encountered tonight. “Sure,” Kakashi says and leaps to his feet with Yamato following suit. “We have no swords, so we’ll focus on hand to hand combat.”
Kakashi begins with stances, he notes the importance of the stance and how to make sure there are no openings that make Yamato vulnerable. He then moved onto basic attacks, how to disarm your opponent and the weakest points of the human body.
“You’re a quick learner,” Kakashi comments nonchalantly and gently fixes Yamato’s arms by raising his elbow slightly.
“Can I fight now?” Yamato asks with a glint in his eyes.
Kakashi splutters. “I’m not going to fight you, Yamato.”
The nobleman drops his stance. “How am I going to learn if I don’t fight someone?”
“Your practice stances will kick in.” Kakashi lies. He had always made his students fight him.
“Don’t lie to me. The knights spar all the time!” Yamato protests and Kakashi bites back on a grin.
“I’ll go easy on you,” Kakashi offers. “I wouldn’t want to hurt your pretty face.”
The deep flush invites itself again on Yamato’s face as he enters his first stance. They both move shift around in a circle, waiting for the other to make a move, arms and hands close to their face and chests, and their eyes locked onto each other intensely. Kakashi throws the first attack to which Yamato quickly parries and it leaves his neck exposed. Kakashi hooks his arm over the crook of Yamato’s neck but Yamato grabs his arm with both hands and throws Kakashi off. He stumbles back and Yamato follows with two quick punches, Kakashi ducks and before Yamato can throw a jab, he rises quickly, years of agility drilled into him and knocks Yamato back onto the grass.
He lands with a soft ooft and leans back on his hands, he looks up at Kakashi with bright eyes, a ruddy face and a wide grin. His hair is ruffled but his shoulders are much more relaxed. “You’re very skilled, Kakashi.” Yamato compliments catching his breath.
Kakashi stretches his arm out to offer a hand and pulls Yamato up. He jumps to his feet and ends up nearer to Kakashi than he had anticipated. “You’re a quick learner,” Kakashi parrots from earlier. He’s distracted by their vicinity. “You did well.”
Their hands are still conjoined and Kakashi’s eyes drop to their clasped hands before dragging his eyes back up to Yamato’s dark gaze. Something snaps in the heavy silence between them, and Kakashi finds himself leaning in but Yamato stops him with a gentle press of his free hand to Kakashi’s chest.
“Kakashi,” he says warily but his brows furrow with determination. “I have something to tell you.”
Before either of them can get a word in the doors to the ballroom burst open and they both break apart from each other as if they’d been shocked. Queen Tsunade steps onto the courtyard and they both bow to greet her. Kakashi’s head swims as he straightens back up because Queen Tsunade is not a force to be reckoned with. He’s sure she’s caught him, she knows that he’s not a royal at all and has been parading around as a fraud all evening, and the mere thought of her punishment sends an awful bout of guttural anxiety.
“Ah, there you are Tenzo!” Queen Tsunade bellows across the courtyard and approaches the duo. “I thought you had disappeared before the ceremony and I was getting worried. Come along now, you know we can’t start it without you and the people are waiting.”
The relief that Queen Tsunade isn’t here for Kakashi doesn’t take the edge off his nerves. She’s even more powerful in person and this is the closest Kakashi has gotten to her. She’s shorter than he had expected, but her stoic glare and booming voice has commanded many rooms. Her blonde hair is loose over her shoulders, they fall gracefully frown the crown atop her head, and she places her hands on her hips, crinkling the jade green dress she’s often seen in. Kakashi is glad he no longer has Yamato’s hand in his grasp because he’s sure his hand would slip out with how much his palms are sweating.
Yamato shoots him an apologetic look. “I’m sorry I’m afraid I have to go. Where can I find you later?”
“Let’s meet here.” Kakashi says with the intention to bid Yamato goodbye before he returns to his regular civilian life. He had told enough lies tonight to last a lifetime.
“I look forward to it.” Yamato says sweetly before turning to follow Queen Tsunade back inside.
Kakashi lets out a sigh of relief and steals one long glance around the garden that Yamato had tended himself. He cranes his head to the moon, she had been the only audience to their dance, if you could call it such and turns on his heel to return to the ballroom.
Gai is easy to find in the crowded ballroom because he is impressing a small crowd with handstands. Kakashi joins the crowd in watching Gai perform and remembers when he had challenged Kakashi to see who could hold a handstand for the longest. Unfortunately, it had been winter and the ground was damp with rain that left their hands muddy, cold and unmoveable.
Towards the centre of the room, a servant calls for the audience’s attention so Kakashi steps forward. “I’m so sorry to interrupt the entertainment, but I believe there is a royal announcement.”
Gai fixes himself back onto his feet with unyielding control and the small crowd reward him with a short round of applause before they all usher each other to the centre of the room.
“Kakashi!” Gai booms. “It has been the most wonderful evening!”
“I’m glad you’ve been enjoying it,” Kakashi says while Gai swings an arm around his shoulders. “Would you like to watch the ceremony?”
“Why, of course!” Gai exclaims. “It would be of our best interest to make the most of our stay.”
Truth be told, Kakashi really could not care for the ceremony because all he can think of is Yamato’s ruddy grinning face under the moonlight. How his eyes glittered even in the dark shawl of the night sky. (How dark his gaze had been when they were all but pressed close to each other with the moon as their only witness.)
Although they are on the outskirts of the crowd, Queen Tsunade’s voice doesn’t fail to reach them from across the room. “Foremost, I would like to thank those who have attended today. It is always a pleasant sight to see, the unity of the kingdoms and our people, especially for an occasion such as this.” She pauses and the room waits with bated breath. “I am here tonight to proudly announce my heir and who will be next in line to the throne.”
Her speech sends the room to a stifled but frenzied whisper. Heir? Queen Tsunade had no children. Her husband passed away before she could bear any heirs. Who is this heir? Has she passed the lineage of Konoha to a neighbouring kingdom’s prince? How are we to trust this new heir to rule Konoha?
Queen Tsunade continues resiliently. “I apologise for hiding him from his people, he was too young to be exposed to the masses but I assure you he has been in this kingdom the entire time and I am confident that he will serve you, our people, very well. That’s why he is here today, because he has come of age and has grown into a splendid young man.” She smiles softly, pride shines in her eyes and she steps aside. “I would like to introduce my dear nephew, Prince Tenzo Senju, as your next ruler.”
The room bursts into a cacophony of applause as Tenzo emerges and joins his aunt, Queen Tsunade, at the front of the crowd. He gives an obligatory bow, back straight as if he’s rehearsed it a lifetime and just like the one he gave Kakashi earlier that night. Except it’s not exact because his hair is ruffled from their short spar. Gai is clapping wildly next to him but it seems as if Kakashi can’t move his arms. The noise is far too loud—no, it is far too quiet and Kakashi drowns in the rushing noise of his thoughts filling his head. Realisation sinks in, like the first chill of winter that sinks deep into your bones, but you’ve not prepared a coat and you’re left shivering in the early rays of the sun.
Then Tenzo turns and catches his eyes. He spares Kakashi a tight lipped smile, empty of the mirth from earlier that evening. No wonder why the knights didn’t allow Yamato to train, because they would have been fighting the crown prince of Konoha. He had little hobbies to do because he’s spent his entire life preparing to be the next ruler. With each piece that clicks into place the sinking feeling in his stomach only tightens.
“—Kakashi,” Gai says and it shakes Kakashi out of his trance. There is a firm but grounding grip on his shoulder. “What’s the matter?”
“Nothing. I’m just looking forward to meeting someone in the courtyard later tonight.”
#kakayama#my writing#WHEW this ended up longer than expected#kakashi#yamato#yamato tenzo#tenzo#kakashi hatake#naruto fic
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Shinobis of Ninjago
Episode 1: Rise of the Snakes
Prologue Pilot 1 Pilot 2 (Episode 1, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3), Next Episode
Skylor met up with her teammates a few minutes later, letting out a sharp whistle and watching Amber land beside her. Taking her portion of groceries, she opened the saddlebag, only for a scroll to tumble out, Transferring the items to the bag, she bent down and picked it up.
"This isn't mine." Skylor noted the golden drawings on the backside of the scroll, far fancier than the ones she used for lessons or most she had taken from home.
Pixal dismounted from Byte, taking a closer look at the saddlebag. "This is Master Mystake's bag. You must have accidentally taken it in the rush."
Seliel and Nya slid off their saddles, coming up behind Skylor to look at the scroll. "What's it say?" Seliel asked.
"I remember seeing a lot of scrolls like this back at the monastery." Nya said. "I never took the time to learn the language."
"It's the ancient language of our ancestors." Pixal said. "It hasn't been used in centuries, though I think I can read a little of it." Her eyes scanned over the paper and eventually she pointed to a symbol. "This means prophecy." She was quiet for a few more minutes. "One warrior will rise above the rest and become the Green Ninja. The warrior destined to defeat the Dark Lady."
"Dark Lady?" Seliel echoed. "You think it means Lady Misako?"
Skylor unrolled the parchment further, revealing a picture of four shinobis clad in different colours surrounding another in green. "Is anyone else thinking what I'm thinking..."
Nya smiled. "Like how good I'm gonna look in green."
"Isn't it obvious that I'm gonna be the Green Ninja?! I have the most history with Misako." Skylor exclaimed.
"Technically, I am the best." Pixal butted in.
"Everyone stop it!" The kishu ordered as she grabbed the scroll from Skylor. "Remember why Sensei brought us together in the first place, we're a team. We weren't meant to see this and probably for good reason." Seliel rolled up the scroll and put it in her saddlebag. Climbing onto Misty's back, she turned to the other three. "Come on, we have training to do."
—————————————————-
Harumi pulled her hood further over her head. Escaping from the Darkley's employees was like second nature to her; as soon as they drove up in the car to take her back to school, she waited until they were a reasonable distance away before jumping out of the backseat.
Currently she was making her way up a snow covered mountain, wind blowing harshly in her face. She was cold and hungry, the lollipop from the orange kunoichi had only lasted so long.
"Stupid ninja. I'll show them who they're dealing with." She muttered.
Harumi let out a grunt of pain as she ran into something. Not seeing anything in front of her, she looked down into the blanket of fresh, white snow. She began digging and soon enough she unearthed the thing that interrupted her monologuing. A metal rod stuck out of the ground, resembling a lever.
Her childlike curiosity got the best of her and she pulled it. The ground began to shake, sending the girl tumbling forward. The ground began to slide open, a crevice getting bigger by the second. Harumi tried scrambling away and was close to reaching the edge when she lost her grip. She slid down the stone slab and braced herself for the impact.
Her back touched cold ice as she somersaulted down into the ground. When she finally skidded to a halt, she lay there for a few minutes, groaning. Deciding to move, she sat up, gazing around. Harumi seemed to be in an underground ice cave, though some walls were marked with carvings.
"You are not of right mind to venture so far from home, little one."
Harumi bristled at the voice and turned around. There stood a figure with deep blue scales, ruby red eyes looking curiously at her. A long tail was draped across the ice and robes featuring ancient scrawl and symbols covered their chest. They had the head of a snake, with a hood that fanned out like a cobra.
They moved closer, Harumi crawling backwards as she eyed the golden staff in the snake-person's hand. The serpent looked down at the staff, then back to the child and smiled. "Do not worry, I will not harm you. Just as long as you give your mind to me. Look into my eyes, young one. You will obey me."
A low rattling escaped the serpent's chest and Harumi covered her eyes, her back coming in contact with a wall of ice. When Harumi opened her eyes, she looked up at the snake-person. They stood perfectly still, a dazed look in their eyes.
Harumi stood up and circled them before deciding on a conclusion: they were under her control. She smirked and crossed her arms. "I think you are mistaken. I will control you from now on."
The Serpentine bowed respectively. "What shall you have us do, mistress?"
"Us?" Harumi echoed.
Almost as if on cue, more Serpentine emerged from behind ice pillars and walls, their scales the same deep blue as the first one's. A low hissing filled the room, no doubt murmurs about the young girl, as the last experience they had with humans was not pleasant.
Harumi's smirk grew bigger as she realized what this meant. "My own army of snakes."
—————————————————
"—then we agree; the prophecy states that one o' us will become the Green Ninja, and the issue will not rest until it's decided." Nya stated, leading the team back up the stairs into the Monastery.
"May I suggest a tournament? Last shinobi standing is the best." Pixal suggested.
"And will be declared the Green Ninja and be promoted to chūnin." Skylor finished. "Sounds good to me. But I'm getting changed first, I don't want to do this soaking wet."
Minutes later the four met outside of the indoor training room, changed into training gis and warmed up from the cold weather. Nya pushed open the doors, only to pause when she saw it was occupied.
The other three peered over her shoulders, seeing Jay practicing with a punching bag. Once he noticed them, he stopped, leaning on the bag and smiling. "Hola."
Skylor stepped forward. "Are you wearing the—"
"Wrist braces? Yeah, do not worry." He paused and began to take off the braces around his wrists, reaching for his bracers and a towel. "What happened in town? Fake alarm?"
"Yeah, nothing we couldn't take care of. But, uh, we're gonna need the space."
Seliel opened one of the cabinets and pulled out four helmets and armoured vests. "Two matches, the winners of each face off for the title, armour for our own protection. It's time to see what our weapons can do."
"Hey Jay, wanna stay and watch me mop the floor with them?" Skylor offered, a confident smirk on her face as she slid on the vest.
"No thank you, I will visit Chai's in Jamanikai Village. Have fun." He turned and headed out the door, closing it behind him.
Pixal sent Skylor a look, silently asking who the Chai's were. "Old family friends." Skylor answered.
Nya squealed. "His accent is so cute. Ya have to admit that."
"I have the same accent as him."
"My point still stands. But he speaks in such a cute way. Not... like ya."
"Firstly: We've talked about this. No one is to make moves on my brother. Secondly: What's that supposed to mean?!"
"Match One: Skylor versus Nya." Seliel announced, interrupting the premature argument.
The two got into position, facing each other. They bowed and got into a ready stance. Seliel blew a whistle she had gotten out of the cabinet and she barely had enough time to jump out of the way.
The two wasted no time in drawing their weapons and lunging towards each other. Skylor caught Nya's trident between her sai and twisted it over her shoulder. With a grunt of effort, she sent her fellow ninja flying across the room. Nya got to her feet, twirling her trident around. She pointed it at Skylor, intending for it to shoot her with a water beam like she heard in legends. Instead, she found herself drenched in water and Skylor stifling her giggles from across the room.
Nya growled, running forward with her trident at the ready. Skylor sidestepped the attack and kicked Nya into the wall. She threw her sai, pinning Nya to the wall by the sleeves of her gi. Nya sighed, dropping her trident.
Skylor helped her up and the two bowed before the konran punched the air in victory. The two took a seat, kneeling as they watched the other two bow and assume a fighting stance.
Unlike the two before them, Pixal and Seliel did not advance right away. Instead, they circled each other, evaluating the other's footwork and stance. Pixal pulled out her whip and cracked it in the direction of her opponent.
Seliel brought out her staff, the thong wrapping around the shaft. Seliel twisted her staff and pulled, bring Pixal closer. She stuck out her leg, tripping the Purple Kunoichi. Pixal pulled off an impressive rotating chest stand, landing a solid kick to Seliel's chest.
Getting to her feet, Pixal pulled her whip back. Flicking her whip in a simple X pattern, she shot forward, the technique serving as a shield against Seliel's attacks. Seliel managed to get a lucky jab through the shield, the whip wrapping around her staff one more. She yanked her staff away, the handle leaving Pixal's hand and leaving her defenseless.
Seliel lunged forward, tackling Pixal to the ground. She held her staff tightly over Pixal's torso, pinning her arms to her side. Pixal glared at Seliel and then to her weapon across the room. She sighed, her body relaxing. "I yield."
They got to their feet and bowed respectively. Pixal went to go join Nya in being a spectator. Skylor jumped to her feet, giving her teammate a high-five and bouncing on the balls of her feet, ready for a fight.
"For the prize and title of the best kunoichi, Green Ninja, and promotion to chūnin, you may begin."
Skylor rushed forward, surprising Seliel with the sudden attack. Trapping the staff with her sai, she threw it over her head. Hey, the move worked well on Nya.
The staff flew across the room, crashing into the wall between Nya and Pixal, none of whom flinched. Skylor turned back to Seliel, only to find her missing from where she had been a mere second ago. Turning around she barely had enough time before something collided with her cheek.
Sitting up, she glared at Seliel who was standing over her confidently. Growling, her grip tightened on her sai and she lunged forward, sai ahead of her. She stopped mere inches from Seliel's face, for the sai in her hands were glowing brighter than before.
Skylor dropped them in surprise and as soon as they made contact with the floor, a thick navy mist escaped them, not unlike the one the staff produced when they faced off against the dragon months ago.
The room soon became filled with the smoke, the four unable to see anything in front of them. The door to the indoor training room was opened, a figure stepping inside and gasping. They managed to find the Staff of Illusions and the mist soon disappeared.
Mystake stared down at the heap of kunoichis that was supposed to be her students; the saviours of Ninjago.
"Could someone please get their elbow out of my stomach?"
"Whoever's ass is in my face should remove it before I make sure they never walk again."
"If one of you doesn't stop kicking me I will lose it!"
"Ow, ow, ow, watch the hair!"
Ninjago was doomed.
Mystake cleared her throat, the complaints ending abruptly. The ninja slowly untangled themselves and got into a line. They knelt before her, heads hung. "What were you thinking?" Mystake snapped.
"We were trying to figure out who's the Green Ninja." Nya replied, earning a backhand to the head from Pixal. "U-Uh, did I say Green Ninja? No, I'm sorry," She cleared her throat. " What I- what I said was lean!"
"You were not supposed to see that scroll." Mystake sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.
"But Sensei, we wanna know. Which one of us is the elegido?" ('... chosen one?') Skylor asked.
"None of you if you don't unlock your full potential and earn the title of chūnin." The four lowered their heads again.
"But my sai, they were so bright and they did that thing with the smoke." Skylor said, risking a look at Mystake. "Is this what you meant by unlocking our elemental weapons?"
Mystake sighed, placing her hands behind her back. "You are only at the beginning. And the road is long and winding, but yes; this is what I meant." She paused. "If this is what it must take for you to train, then so be it. But none of you are near the level of what it takes to become the Green Ninja."
—————————————————-
After hitching a ride on a bus and one trolley ride later, Jay arrived at Jamanikai Village. He wandered the streets until he came upon a familiar store. Knocking twice, he barely had to wait before the door was opened, a young boy peeking out nervously from behind it.
"Devon," Jay greeted. "Ha sido un largo tiempo." ('It's been a long time.')
Once the boy realized who it was, he opened the door fully, jumping into Jay's arms. Jay laughed and picked up the boy, entering the warm General Store where he was greeted by more children.
He had decided to spend the night with the Chai's, calling Skylor to let her know. The Chai's were a nice family, Amelia was a single mother of four, with another on the way. Jay had been sad to hear that Mr. Chai had passed and that he and his sister couldn't attend the funeral as they were otherwise... occupied.
He was woken up at sunrise, the four kids eager to play with him. He spent the day keeping the youngest two busy while Amelia and the eldest two worked in the store.
Later in the day, Amelia asked if he could run into town and grab a few groceries that they needed and that their store did not have. When Jay agreed, Amelia gave him some cash and thanked him before having to run back to the cashier stand.
After dressing the youngest two—Devon and Claire—for the weather outside, the three set off. Minutes later, they were inside a grocery store, picking up food when they heard screams from outside.
"¿Ahora que?" ('What now?') Jay muttered. He lifted the two out of the cart and placed them on the ground. Turning to Devon he said, "Necesito que vayas a casa y lleves a tu hermana allí. ¿Puedes hacer eso?" ('I need you to go home and take your sister there. Can you do that?')
Devon nodded confidently, puffing out his chest. The two left, and Jay was thankful the direction of their house was the opposite of the screaming. Abandoning the cart, he set off, carefully making his way through the streets until he caught a glimpse of someone clad in black. Pressing himself against a wall, he peered around the corner.
A young girl was seated in a wheelbarrow, her blonde hair tied back in braids. "Take the candy! Take it all!" Jay realized this must have been the person causing the disturbance yesterday, Misako's daughter.
He covered his mouth to stop himself from shouting in surprise when he saw who was accompanying Harumi. They looked human, if it wasn't for the blue and white scales covering their body. The robes they wore were covered in markings, no doubt an ancient language, and ruby red eyes gazed over the village. Her head resembled that of a snake, a large hood starting at her neck and fanning over the crown of her head.
Serpentine. And from what he had been learning, a Hypnobrai.
"Slitheraa, tell your army to advance. I want all the candy in town." Harumi said, watching as a Hypnobrai soldier dumped an armful of candy into her wheelbarrow.
Slitheraa, the general of the army, raised the gold staff in her hand. A low hiss escaped her mouth as her tail rattled. The soldiers stopped wandering around, depositing armfuls of candy to the wagon. They started moving out in different directions in hopes of claiming more sweets for the girl.
"This makes no sense General; raiding an entire town, for sweets?" One questioned, coming up beside Slitheraa.
"You will do as I command." The general snapped. "Because I hold the staff!"
At the sound of hissing, Jay turned, spotting a Hypnobrai standing there, a bag of throwing stars attached to their waist.
Jay got into a fighting stance. "¿Quieres bailar?" ('Wanna dance?')
#Shinobis of Ninjago#Shinobis of Ninjago Au#ninjago#Ninjago au#Skylor Emilia Gaudjoso#Jayson Leonardo Gaudjoso#Nevya Eda Walker#Seliel Jordane Babic#Pixal Julien#Harumi Misaki Garmadon#Mystake Garmadon#Rise of the Serpentine#Rise of the Snakes#ninjago fanfic#Ninjago fanfiction#golden weapons#ninjago serpentine#ninjago skylor#ninjago jay#ninjago nya#ninjago seliel#ninjago pixal#ninjago harumi#ninjago mystake#Ninjago Slitheraa#ninjago Skales#Cheif General Slitheraa#Lieutenant-General Skales
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《What your fav Haikyuu!! Character says about you│Nekoma Edition》
Yo-hoo! Here’s another part to this potential(?) series! I hope you enjoy the possible call-outs in some of these lmao. Writers block been kicking my ass recently but I had a lot of fun writing these. Enjoy <3
You can find the Karasuno ver. here
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Kuroo:
Have a hand fetish and will not say no to choking.
Daddy kink™
Will not accept anything below 6 inches.
More of a dog person but would love to own a black cat.
You drool over tattoos.
Your grades are mostly B’s but you know in your heart you deserve that A, and tbh you probably do. Chase ur goals bby.
Halloween is likely your favourite holiday.
You have to resist not to carve a dick into the pumpkin EvEry GodDAmN YeAr.
You either study for 6 hours consecutively or cannot study at all and you get very frustrated at this.
Have the potential to be a good leader and command the room but probably don’t put it to use as much as you should.
Your playlist parkours from sad 3am crying into your pillow songs to aggressive punk music you could rob a store to.
You like bad boys who hang around bars and look like they would put out a cigarette on your forearm and call you a slut. Just stating facts sweaty xoxo.
Either dress very feminine and girly with a ‘smol girl uwu’ aesthetic or a hardass punk who would kick your ass for a can of beer no in between and tbh both are equally hot.
You’re a big softie at heart either way and just want to be held and told everything will be okay.
Ur a hoe for when people stroke your hair or caress your chin it’s your ultimate weakness.
Watched Rick & Morty.
Twice.
Sleeves rolled up veiny forearms and donning a silver watch are your muse and something you fantasise about frequently.
Most of your memes are shitty top text bottom texts that are somehow funny and I don’t understand why lmao.
You call someone ‘bro’ even if it’s someone you’re immensely attracted to.
Did someone say ties? No it’s just ur dirty ass thoughts thinking about that hot business dudes attire from across the street and how you wish they were tied around ur wrists.
Probably had a crush on Jeff the Killer as a tween and are relentlessly haunted by your old Wattpad library.
Tbh any dark-haired dude with bedhead that screams rugged and probably not good for you is something that draws you like a moth to a flame.
You often question why every person you’ve fallen for has been a Scorpio and curse that tendency of yours.
Dw man they’re hot so I feel u.
Kenma:
Went through a ‘I’m not like other __’ phase and it’s something that you think about a lot and wish you didn’t.
Watched dan & phil as a kid.
Any mention of Pokemon has you turning into a rabid beast you get way too excited.
It’s cute though dw bby.
Pretty antisocial but interesting to talk to.
Your family often question how you’re able to sleep in till 3pm and judge you heavily for it.
Nocturnal night owl gang rise up.
Frequently have bags under your eyes but somehow manage to pull it off.
Listen to ASMR on the down-low and will never admit it to a single soul.
Frequently go on BL binges and have many related book marks.
You pray that someone will never find your laptop bc holy fuck the amount of smut on that.
You wear scarves & beanies even when it isn’t that cold outside.
100% went through a scene hair phase/attempted to.
You dye your hair a lot or REALLY want to.
You have a voice kink low-key so anyone with a pleasant/soothing sounding voice just gets u goin’.
Cats are your favourite animal and you either do or want to own several.
Would name them after video game/anime characters u fuckin nerd lol.
Speaking of cats ,you fantasise heavily about cat-boys and have a folder dedicated to them.
Oversized hoodies are your vibe and always ball the sleeve hems in your fist as a comfort mechanism.
Shopping centres are your worst nightmare and trigger your claustrophobia or social anxiety and honestly I feel that spiritually.
Have a cute sticky note collection.
You like a lot of music consisting of guitar and slow/soothing beats.
You also fw EDM/ techno on occasions.
Honestly wouldn’t wanna anger you since you have a seething temper when pushed far enough.
It’s the kinda temper that’s eerily quiet but no less terrifying, like the other person can tell you are graphically plotting their demise.
You love sleeping to the sound of rainfall and often play those nature ambience videos while you sleep.
Never tidy your sheets and it’s just a big scrunched up heap of fabric in the centre of your mattress most of the time.
Make your fucking bed.
Lev:
Your ships are chaotic and shamelessly controversial.
Would do something just for the sake of creating mayhem lmao.
You were the fucker who stuck their chewing gum under the desk, I see you.
Your brain never stops whirring it’s a constant hurricane of crackhead energy and you have no idea how to turn it off.
Would eat a stick of pencil lead for $2
You don’t help your situation with the amount of coffee/energy drinks you consume.
The class clown who cries themselves to sleep.
Such a wholesome dumbass but somehow kinda intimidating???
Even if you’re not confident you can do something you’ll try anyway and honestly I respect that about you.
You !! use!!! a lot??!! of!! random punctuation!!! so you always??!?!? seem!!111!! excited!!!!!11!?
Every time you’ve ever tried to make a sandcastle it has failed.
You tried to eat the sand once but we don’t talk bout that.
You would also pick up slugs and snails and chase your friends around with them.
Can never tell whether people are laughing with you or at you and while you don’t let it show it high-key bothers you when you’re laying alone in your room at night.
Not one to hold grudges, you carry a ‘shit happens’ mentality which is v good but it sometimes leads to people taking advantage of it or walking all over you.
Your meme collection is both questionable and horrifying.
Like how many cursed images and heavily distorted pictures does one person need.
Never organise the files on your PC/laptop so it looks like a complete dumpster fire.
The one at sleepovers who persistently woke everyone else up with their snickering and refusal to sleep till dawn.
For the love of Asahi charge your damn phone.
I see that red bar and ‘12%’
Charge it now.
Bought a plant one time, gave it a name and talked to it frequently.
It died not long after bc u forgot to fucking water it.
No one better ever make you responsible for a pet.
Type of person that when someone asks you to tag along on an endeavour no matter how stupid it is you will agree.
2am skydiving in france? hell yeah.
Midnight shopping spree and spending over half your pay check? count you in.
Exploring an abandoned hospital and performing an Ouija board to summon the demons of hell? you’re damn right you’ll be there.
I hope you have a mum friend by your side bc if not how are you still alive.
You sometimes put the milk in before the cereal and it’s something I’ll never forgive you for.
Yaku:
Very responsible and usually make the right decisions.
You do have moments where you act like a complete dumbass though.
Like u go from 50 year old to 5 year old in the blink of an eye.
A hopeless romantic but it’s a side you don’t often reveal.
Prefer strawberry milk over any other flavour.
You’re the type of person to shower twice a day w/o fail.
Where that stank smell coming from? Not you clearly bc your skin is basically 90% The Body Shop’s rose scented soap at this point.
You get stomach aches a lot and you can’t figure out why.
Probably an allergy to everyone’s bs.
Really good at dirty talk even though you don’t seem the type so people are always taken aback.
You have to be really in the mood though otherwise it falls flatter than Oikawa’s ass, use your skill wisely.
You often call people clowns when you know you’re secretly the biggest one going.
Honk honk, hoe.
You send messages in one paragraph rather than multiple texts unless you are REALLY excited.
People underestimate you at times then are shocked when they realise you are capable of being a fire-breathing dragon from the flaming pits of hell.
You like spicy chicken wings.
Such a petty little shit at times lmao.
Enjoy the view from the top of mountains so you either hike a lot or really want to.
Way more of a cat person since it’s just much more convenient for you.
Usually pretty cheerful or calm and people are drawn to your stable/friendly aura.
Went through a phase of drinking mountain dew and your body still feels the awful effects
Fav element is probably air.
You’re 5′6″ or shorter.
Box dyed your hair brunette several times and can never get the pigment out to this day.
Yamamoto:
Whenever you smell something weird in the room you always internally freak out and think it’s you.
Head-butting walls is your hobby.
You fell off your bike as a kid and still have the scar on your knee.
Probably have tons of ear piercings.
Would tame a pigeon and call it Larry.
You get frequent nosebleeds and can never tell if it’s a medical issue or your extreme simping for fictional men/women.
Hopefully the latter.
You constantly chew your pen/pencil in class so you never lend them to anyone out of embarrassment.
I really hope no one ever lends you stationery bc 30 minutes later it’ll look like it was mauled by a rabid rottweiler.
You really want to own a dog and would call it something intimidating like Banshee or Diablo.
You bleached your hair that one time and it almost fell out so now you’re forced to stay at least 10 metres away from all at-home hair dye products.
You tried your best though bby so A for effort, even if it did look like dehydrated ramen afterwards.
Your grades are mostly C’s and you’re barely passing bc you just don’t care about your classes lol.
Still though you’re actually pretty smart so put it to good use you lazy oaf, channel that crackhead energy into something good.
Your phone screen has several cracks in it from when you dropped it on the bathroom floor while shitting and you’ll always be angry at yourself for that.
You have some really weird quirks but you make it work.
Actually a v chill person but you just kinda attract chaos/trouble wherever you go.
Carry a lighter with you even when you don’t need one.
Shy texter but once people see you irl you are the complete opposite, you just dk how to text without coming across as awkward.
One of those people that’s unintentionally funny and always get confused when you make someone laugh but it makes you feel good regardless.
Have a cool necklace collection and own at least one dog-tag/army style pendant.
Should really consider buying a rabbit you would look so cute w/ one.
You have really nice legs and people should compliment them more.
Either severely dehydrated or overly hydrated to the point you are peeing pure tap water so for the love of god please learn moderation, your kidneys and bladder will thank you for it.
Inuoka:
Your favourite character would be Hinata but you like people taller than you so your love for Inuoka spawned.
You really enjoy using the double spiderman meme.
Cannot correctly verbalise your feelings without creating a minimum of 10 misunderstandings but once people are used to it it’s kinda endearing.
You usually wake up in a good mood and people can never fathom how or why.
You either stay up till 5am or you wake up at that time no in between.
A morning person bc you love the sunrise.
Change your lock-screen very regularly bc you get bored.
Your humour consists solely of poop jokes.
When you don’t understand a joke you laugh anyway and hope they don’t ask you if you actually get it.
Happened once and you’re still traumatised from the cricket silence that fell upon the room.
Really like the taste of lemonade and drink it more often than you should.
Often think about what you would look like with a shaved head.
More of an extrovert but def have occasional introvert tendencies where you wanna be left tf alone.
Never allowed to pick up anything in stores bc the last time you did you sniffed a scented candle and it shattered to the floor.
Constantly have spontaneous ideas of what to change about your appearance.
You use a lot of hand gestures like thumbs up and peace signs.
‘Dude’ and ‘lmao’ is 90% of your vernacular.
Your nails are a disaster, some are down to the nub while others are pretty grown out bc you only bite a select few please sort it out.
Look really good in red.
Your laptop has way too many tabs open from random google searches of words you didn’t know the meaning to.
You read a lot of books but for like 10 minutes at a time bc you have the attention span of a walnut.
You are the type of person to nuke your AO3 tags with things that aren’t even relevant purely bc you found them funny.
Your Tumblr drafts are a nightmare, you have like 100+ in the works yet keep starting new projects why do you do this.
Happy sunshine but you have a LOT of mood swings like that shit comes out of nowhere.
Cry pretty often but no one ever sees and it’s usually because of said mood swings.
You always smile and pick yourself up again though which I commend you for.
TYPES IN CAPITALS IN SITUATIONS THAT DO NOT REQUIRE SAID PUNCTUATION SO YOU SEEM LIKE YOU’RE YELLING ALL THE TIME.
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aeon (6/6)
Pairing: Keith/Lance
Words: 10.5k
Rating: M
Warnings: mild violence
Tags: Post-Season/Series 07, quantum abyss, Flashbacks, Flashforwards, Prophetic Visions, Visions in dreams, Mind Control, Dimension Travel, Boys Being Boys, Falling In Love, Mutual Pining, Gay Keith (Voltron), Bisexual Lance (Voltron) when the going gets tough... the tough write fix-it fics, Allura (Voltron) Lives, because fuck you jds and lm
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Summary:
Keith does not leave the quantum abyss untouched.
“Home can be anything, you know,” Lance says in lieu of a conversation starter.
Slivers of moonlight filter through the blinds above their heads, casting lines of truth across the sheets. Lance tilts his head forward and a band slides over his eyes, catching the ocean in them and drawing Keith into their rolling tides. And as distracted as he is, he doesn't put up a fight when a hand clasps his own, reeling them heartward.
“Home is just something you can come back to.” His knuckles brush against the soft fabric of a nightshirt, the v-neckline falling loose to reveal a sharp collarbone, and Keith feels his breath hitching. “Something that keeps you grounded.”
READ IT ON AO3
The day of the Alliance Feast comes and Keith finds himself sulking in a corner as he watches an alien chat Lance up.
Allura had stuffed them all in Altean formal wear, color-coded and high-collared, capes draped tastefully across their shoulders. The material of the suits are surprisingly breathable despite all its excess, stretching and bunching up in just the right places to cut them all into impressive figures. The princess had been very particular in how she wanted them all to look and had forced herself into more than one fitting room back at the Garrison; Shiro’s hair is slicked back, Hunk’s headband folded into the pocket of his jacket, Keith’s loose ponytail tied with a red ribbon, Lance’s waist adorned by a silver chain and Pidge’s glasses exchanged for a sleeker pair. If the star-eyed looks they’ve been receiving ever since they landed on New Altea is anything to go by then she must have succeeded.
Lance, Keith must admit, looks particularly dashing. His suit makes his shoulders look broader and it’s a problem. More so because it’s obvious that the red paladin isn’t the only one to take notice, more than one individual coming forward to introduce themselves to the friendliest member of Voltron.
Keith glares.
The alien doesn't take the hint and keeps talking, going so far as to place one of their four hands on the blue paladin’s upper arm when they laugh. Lance looks pleased.
“You should go talk to him.”
A crick forms in his neck when he jerks to attention at Allura’s voice. She fills up the once empty space next to him, having somehow snuck up on him, wearing low heels and a pale pink dress; she looks the epitome of aristocratic, with jewels dripping across her collarbone and dangling from her ears. His heart jumps at her words when they finally register, unable to help the quick glance he sends to the tables. “No,” he says immediately, turning away when he catches the unilu delegate peering at him from over the blue paladin’s shoulder. “He looks fine where he is. I don’t want to butt in.”
The princess frowns, obviously displeased at his reluctance. She crosses her arms and juts out a hip in a move that’s far too Keith-ish in nature for his liking. “You know, Lance loves to dance and—”
“Awesome,” Keith grouses.
Allura glares. “—and I’m sure he would say yes to one if someone asked.”
There’s no denying that the blue paladin has had no shortage of dance partners; ever since the band had started playing the boy had been on and off the dancefloor, spinning past him with someone new every few minutes. Some bitterness sneaks into his tone when he says, “I’ve noticed.”
“Now that’s not fair. You’ve had all evening to make your move. Don’t be upset that others are doing what you can’t.”
The words sting and Keith isn’t quick enough to hide it.
Allura’s expressions soften and he bristles a bit, less at the thought of being the recipient of someone’s pity and more knowing that he’s actively doing everything to deserve it. “Keith,” she says, and it’s soft and encouraging. “You are one of the most courageous people I know and you’ve faced things far more imposing than this.” She ducks her head to look him in the face. “It’s just Lance.”
“I know,” he says eventually, making a visible effort to relax. He sighs. “I know. It’s just… I don’t want to mess it up.”
“There’s nothing to mess up,” she assures, touching his arm. “Lance is a fellow paladin and, more importantly, your friend. You’ve been through much together and nothing could break the bond you have because of it.” She pauses, carefully manicured hands digging into his sleeve. “And if he’s the one from those visions of yours then talking to him would be the first step towards the rest of your life.”
He really regrets telling her about the flashes.
“It’s him, isn’t it.” It’s more of a fact than a question and Keith can’t even conjure up the energy to deny it.
Lance laughs again.
At his silence, Allura gasps. “I knew it! Oh! How romantic! It’s just like those books Hunk recommended to me, but better because—well, this is real, isn’t it?” Her hands clap together excitedly. “To think, the history you share is just a precursor of what is to come. It must be destiny!”
“Allura,” he warns.
“If he is from the visions, then you mustn’t just talk to him. You have to dance with Lance too! Keith, you absolutely must!”
“I don’t think that’s the best idea.”
“And why not?”
“Because, well, we’re not… it’s complicated. Plus, I don’t really dance.”
Allura tuts at him, booping him on the nose as she takes on a tone of one talking to an ignorant toddler. “Not with that attitude, you don’t. Come on. It will be fun.”
“And what if I don’t wanna have fun?”
The princess purses her lips and she tugs at his sleeve impatiently. He resists when she makes a move to drag him away from his corner, twisting away from her with a scowl. Knowing of her strength and how it outmatches his by miles, he karate chops her other hand when it reaches out for him. She gasps, offended at his defiance, and then redoubles her efforts.
“Why must you be so difficult?” she growls, circlet slipping over one pointed ear as she shoves herself in his space. Her elbow digs uncomfortably in his gut as her other hand fumbles for the wrist of his hand. “I’m only trying to help.”
“Allura, I swear—”
“Well, don’t you two look cozy.”
The two freeze and it’s almost comical, getting caught like this—the red paladin and the altean princess, important figures in their own right, mid-scuffle and cursing at each other—yet Keith doesn’t laugh. Doesn’t laugh because while they had been arguing, a figure had snuck up on them. A figure with very broad shoulders.
Allura recovers first. “Lance!”
The boy belonging to the name smiles. “Mind if I cut in?”
“Of course!” Allura gushes, letting go of Keith and all but pushing him at the blue paladin regardless of the fact that he hadn’t specified who he wanted to dance with. She takes a moment to fix her appearance, smoothing down hair and adjusting her dress, looking haughty. “I’ve gotta find Coran and make sure he’s not overdoing it on the nunvill, so you boys enjoy yourselves.”
And with that, she leaves. Leaves Keith in the middle of a party with his bonafide first and only crush.
He looks up and meets Lance’s eyes. It’s been months since he came back from the abyss and the half inch he had over the other boy is gone now, making them eye level. He knows neither of them are done growing and their heights will continue to change but Keith finds that he likes it this way for now.
“So,” Lance starts, biting his lip. “Dance?”
A quick look across the hall and his stomach flutters nervously. “I’ve never really…”
But Lance is already moving right along, grabbing his hand and tugging him in the direction of the dancefloor. Dazed, Keith lets it happen, focus torn between their clasped hands and the back of the other’s head. The crowd parts easily for them, curious looks and whispers following at their heels only to be hastily hidden when he glances away from the pinking ears of his partner. Lance must be determined to ignore their audience, expertly spinning Keith around to face him and guiding their bodies in a starting position.
The music is already in full swing and Lance takes a step to match that of the other dancers, gently tugging Keith along in a strange mix of a waltz and shuffle, confident where he is stiff.
After maybe a half a minute where they steadily avoided each other’s eye, Keith speaks up. “Is this something we do now? Dance.”
Blue eyes flicker past his face and he doesn't have to imagine the silent conversation that's happening over his shoulder. Lightning quick he looks behind him, but, much to his chagrin, Hunk has already schooled his expression from where he sits at one of the many tables and is staring back at him with all too innocent eyes.
Lance clears his throat and Keith turns back to a nervous smile. “Yeah, I thought we could try it out… See how you—er, we feel about it.”
There must have been something in the drink he had earlier of his because Keith can feel himself melting.
“It’s nice,” he says, watching as the other boy’s smile turns into something more lighthearted. “I’m not very good but, yeah, it’s… it’s nice.”
Eyes twinkle in the warm light. “I think it’s nice too.”
There’s a bit of a hitch in the music and Keith spies a few of the musicians being switched out, exchanging string instruments for ones that look like a cross between trumpets and accordions. It must be getting later in the evening because some of the dancers leave, replaced by a much younger crowd. He spots a few familiar faces, both humans—Atlas technicians, old classmates, Garrison faculty—and aliens—bounty hunters, altean colonists, royal dignitaries—all unabashedly shedding their professional appearance in exchange for a good time. The energy pulses upwards, pushing them closer together and causing the weird rumbling in Keith’s chest to give way to butterflies, transparent wings brushing along the inside of his ribs in a way that has his heart thumping madly.
When the song increases in tempo Keith accidentally steps on Lance’s foot. He cringes. “Sorry.”
“It’s fine,” Lance assures. ”Just lighten your steps and pretend it’s a training session. Move with me, not against me.”
Keith tries the step again and nearly trips over his own feet when he miscalculates how many times his partner would step back, causing a table of girls nearby to twitter with amusement at the sight of him. Lance doesn’t mock him for his clumsiness, just adjusts his hand so it presses a bit lower on his back; Keith feels the touch like a brand, barely catching onto the way his palm shifts in accordance to the next step.
It gives Keith something to focus on and, eventually, he falls in line with the steps.
“See? You’re a natural.”
Keith snorts and Lance grins, proud. “Not really—not like you anyway. How did you get to be so good?”
“I'm Cuban,” he says as a means of explanation, swinging his hips leisurely with the beat a drummer starts playing, obviously enjoying himself. It’s… distracting. Especially when the song changes to something with more bass and he lines their bodies together, starting up a heavy sway that Keith falls into after the initial jerk of surprise. Then there’s a thigh fitting between his legs and Lance is letting go of one hip to guide his gloved hand to the small of his back, casual as can be as the boy rolls back into the touch.
“This is, um.” Keith takes in a shaky breath. “I’ve never done this before.”
“Yeah, I don’t think there are many opportunities for this out in the desert. You really missed out—the Garrison dances always ended up this way. Didn’t matter how many chaperones they assigned.” Lance’s voice is level with his ear, their cheeks brushing as they move to the music, causing goosebumps when he feels the contradictory smooth-roughness of the other’s freshly shaved skin. “But we’ll count this as making up for all the ones you missed. Better late than never, right?”
Breathing is difficult but Keith manages it, if only just. “Right.”
Lance makes a noncommittal hum, pressing closer to let a couple trip pass them. Keith watches them go from his view over Lance’s shoulder, only slightly scandalized when the shorter alien unabashedly slips a hand over their date’s backside. It causes his hand to twitch, the pad of his thumb finding the indent of his partner’s lower back through his suit. With a startling clarity, Keith realizes how far his hand has fallen and tenses, waiting for Lance to notice and take offense.
But nothing happens. No one comments on how close the two paladins have gotten, probably because they aren’t the only ones to do so. The dancefloor is a mesh of bodies, all moving to whatever dance they know and hiding them from the view of the spectators sitting at the tables. He’s not pushed away in disgust, nor is he laughed at. Instead, Lance drapes his free arm over Keith’s shoulder, smoothing down the baby hairs at the back of his neck.
It gives Keith the courage to glance over; he spies half-lidded eyes and a warm flush under golden skin. Enticed by the fluttery feeling low in his gut, he settles his remaining arm over the other’s bicep, just above the edge of his elbow-length gloves. A slow inhale, followed by an even slower exhale, and the pulse under his fingers jumps.
He’s never been held like this before, as if he was the beginning of an addictive end.
The song—the fifth they had danced to and Keith deliriously wonders where the time had gone—starts to come to a climax, and Lance stirs. He looks at the band, then the other dancers and then Keith. There’s something in his eyes and it’s like taking a deep breath before diving under, adrenaline-inducing, willing to be pulled wherever the current takes him. The moment builds like a cresting wave—higher and higher, curling with seafoam and impending desire—until Keith is sure that they're going to crash together, that he’s going to lean in closer and kiss him. Involuntarily, he slips his eyes closed.
“And now, the big finish!”
His eyes fly back open. "What—"
But Lance is already twisting them around and throwing himself backwards. And Keith has no choice but to hastily lean with him, biceps flexing as he tightens his grip around Lance’s waist and hastily puts pressure between his shoulder blades. The top of his head barely misses cracking against the floor. Still, Lance cackles like it’s great fun.
“I can’t believe that worked,” Lance says too loudly when they’re back to standing normally, clapping with the rest of the crowd as the band announces their fifteen minute break. The moment officially over. “I usually drop my partners when I try to dip them.”
“That was embarrassing.”
“Eh, you liked it.”
A little called out, Keith hunches his shoulders and scowls. “I did not.”
But Lance goes on like he didn’t say anything, giving him a million-watt smile. “We did pretty well, all things considered. Probably cause we make such a good team.”
And how is Keith supposed to keep things together when he goes and says things like that? All sincere and butterfly-inducing. “Yeah,” he tells the boy, feeling brave and scared and more than himself, making it so that the back of their hands brush. “We really are.”
After that the party winds down.
The crowds thin and people start saying their goodbyes, respectful salutes paving way for hearty handshakes and more than one inebriated embrace. There seems to be a line forming in front of Allura, everyone wanting a final word with the princess before the night is officially over; Keith merely gives a wave as he and Lance pass her by towards where Hunk and Pidge dally around the buffet table, thinking nothing of the quick smile she gives in return before looking at the diplomat talking to her, knowing that he’ll see her tomorrow at their usual movie night.
Hunk is polishing off his plate of what looks to be pigs in a blanket while Pidge shoves leftover hors d'oeuvres into her shoulder pack. “I’ve got to get this recipe,” the former is saying when the pair come within hearing distance, looking up at the sound of their footsteps and doing a triple take before not-so-subtlety nudging his smaller companion with his elbow. With both gazes trained on them, Hunk gives a too-innocent smile. “Looks like you guys had fun. How was the dancefloor?”
“Crowded,” Keith replies at the same time Lance says, “Cozy.”
The yellow paladin’s eyes flicker between them. “Okay, yeah. Well, we were gonna head out soon… Are, um, you guys gonna…”
“It is getting pretty late,” Lance agrees, leaning forward to steal the last bit of the food from Hunk’s plate before slipping around Keith and draping an arm across his shoulders. He pops the finger food into his mouth and makes a show of chewing loudly when Keith frowns. “You’re going back to the Atlas, right?” he asks him, oblivious or uncaring of the two pairs of eyes that dissect the entire interaction. “Do you think I could hitch a ride with you? I’m staying with Veronica tonight and I think she already left.”
“Sure.”
“Cool.” Lance leans away far enough that he nearly topples the two of them over and Keith has to lightly brace his hand on the other’s waist to better balance them. “See you later, paladudes.”
They four exchange fist bumps and then the red and blue paladin are angling themselves towards the exit, Keith trying not to combust when their arms stay wrapped around each other. More than one eye sticks to them and even more bodies put themselves in front of them to give a deferential goodbye; Lance takes it in stride, giving a sincere wave here and an over-the-top wink there, and it more than makes up for Keith’s own stilted replies. He only blunders once and that’s when Shiro catches his eye over the brim of a champagne glass, smile smug and unbearable.
Finally, they make it to the building’s transport dock where the Black Lion sits docilely.
The forcefield dissipates before Keith even asks and there’s a low rumble in greeting when the pair walk up the ramp, which Lance reciprocates with a light pat to one of the wall panels before following Keith to the cockpit. Then it’s just a means of setting a course to the Atlas and watching the stars pass them by as the mechanical lion does the rest.
The Atlas is empty save for the night shift, all of whom pause in their work up in the control room to watch the Black Lion land and the two paladins that exit it make their way across the room. It is almost eerie how their footsteps sound like a military march in comparison to absolute quiet that reigns once the cabin pressurizer comes online but Keith doesn’t give himself any time to consider it, not when he has a preferable distraction walking alongside him. Lance fills in the silence easily, looking princely as he charms Keith with anecdotes of parties past, laughing alongside him as he recalls the time he had won the Winter Formal crown and the resulting awkward dance that had followed, set to an early century song that he attempts (and fails) to beatbox. It makes the trip up to the floor with their quarters all the more enjoyable and when it’s over, Keith wishes it wasn’t.
Lance flashes a smile at him. “Night, Samurai.”
He sighs in return. “Night, Sharpshooter.”
Then the boy is turning around, disappearing down the hallway with only one look over his shoulder. And Keith, not wanting to look more foolish than he already has by getting caught staring at the spot his crush had occupied, quickly unlocks his door and slips inside.
His mother is in the kitchen, slicing up something that looks like a blue tomato, and looks up when he lingers in the doorway. “You’re back,” she says neutrally, transferring the food to a serving platter and pointedly ignoring the cosmic wolf that watches her every move, drool starting to collect at the base of his largest molar. “How was the party?”
He shrugs. “It was alright.”
“Just alright?”
He shuffles away and into the living room, collapsing onto the couch. His neck cranes back, giving him a perfect view of the ceiling tiles. There’s a scorch mark in the top-right corner from when Kosmo had mistaken one of Krolia’s blasters for a chew toy. He squints at it, thinking, and his mind instantly snags onto the phantom brush of thighs and the strum of an alien guitar. Mouth dry and more than a little embarrassed, he squeezes his eyes shut.
The couch dips slightly and then a clawed hand is stroking his hair, pushing his bangs out of his face and behind his ear. The gesture quells the loud noise in his chest and he lets his head dip to the side, heated cheek squished against the cool felt of the couch.
“It was maybe more than alright,” he finally answers. For some reason, it’s this admission that had him blushing and curling his toes in secondhand gratification. “I had fun, more fun than I thought I would have anyway.”
“I’m glad to hear it.”
She doesn’t ask, but he knows she wants to know. Better yet, he wants to tell her.
“Everyone was there.”
She hums and continues to comb through his hair.
“Shiro, Pidge and Hunk and Allura. Lance too.” A pause where he clears his throat, far from casual. “We danced.”
“That sounds nice.”
“Yeah, it was—nice.”
They sit in silence for a bit and his mind lingers on the dance he had shared that evening. He plays it on loop, going over every detail until he could sketch it out on paper, framed and made all the more real. Eventually Krolia stops her grooming in favor of offering him a slice of the strange fruit; he takes it and plops it into his mouth without question, surprised at the sweet taste.
“It’s weird, feeling this way,” he says absently, grounded but with his head in the clouds. “Weird that this is where I am. That life’s like this now.”
“The universe works in mysterious ways,” she tells him with a hum and he would scoff at such a cliche saying if it weren’t for the way his mother says it so genuinely. “Sometimes, it takes a lifetime and a half to find your place in it. I’m glad you’ve found yours.”
The flashes start coming faster and—
—Lance’s warm hand in his as they walk through a line of stalls selling alien wares. Merchants offering gossamer scarfs the same shade as the rising sun and jewelry that shines like they’ve been plucked straight from the night sky. Gaggles of children running through the streets, laughing as they dodge through the crowds. An ornate dagger purchased and gifted—
—fingers gently rubbing a sticky substance over the stretch of his cheek while a voice drones on about the benefits of skincare—
—his shoulder leaned against a doorway as he watches Lance address a class full of recruits, eyes twinkling when they catch sight of him hidden in the shadows. The loud trill of a bell and the shuffle of children eager for lunch, tempered by the arms wrapped around his neck and the kiss bestowed on his cheek—
—the shudder that goes through him as they rock into each other, skin sweaty and breathes loud. Hands gripping his thighs and his teeth nipping at an exposed neck, leaving marks so the world would know who they belonged to, now and to the end. Words whispered in the dark just as stars burst across his vision—
—eyes connecting over a crowd, secretive and happy—
—Keith fumbling with the black box in his pocket as he paces their room, repeating the words he wants to say to the man that he loves, nervous and excited and everything that comes after—
—he never wants them to stop.
They are hanging out in Keith’s room three days after the ball, sitting on the floor and leaning against his bed as they enjoy each other’s presence. Between them, Kosmo rolls onto his back, expecting belly rubs now that they’re no longer distracted by the show they had been watching, ending credits rolling after twenty-three minutes of terrible storytelling and bad animation. Lance is talking with the assumption that Keith will listen, going on loudly about how his character in the show is the main protagonist while delivering pats to the space wolf.
And Keith is… distracted.
Distracted in a sense that he can’t focus—or rather, he can’t stop focusing. On the energetic hand gestures and the expressive emotions that flit across Lance’s face as he speaks, pausing intermittently in order to coo at Kosmo and ask his opinion on things, always answered with a happy pant and an excited tail wag that has the blue paladin nodding sagely before continuing. He focuses on the way he feels now, in this moment, content like he’s never felt before.
A wet tongue licks a stripe up Lance’s cheek and he rears back, half disgusted, half charmed, and Keith can’t keep quiet any longer. Just blurts out, “We should do something this weekend.”
His friend blinks owlishly. “What?”
There’s fire coursing through his veins, invigorating him. It gives him courage to continue, to make so that the flashes are no longer flashes but memories. “I said we should do something this weekend. Do something together.”
“Yeah, okay.”
The casualness of the answers makes him think that the boy doesn’t quite understand the request. Assumes what he’s asking is for something they’ve always done. They hang out all the time, yes, but this is different. He wants this to be different.
“No, I mean we should go out this weekend.” Keith sends him a certain look, waiting for Lance to catch on.
He doesn’t catch on. “Huh?”
Dark eyes roll toward the ceiling and Keith shakes his head, and there’s that something again and oh, it’s fondness—it’s a look of fondness quirking his lips.
“What I’m saying is…” He takes a quick moment to shift on his hip so that their knees are almost touching and, after a moment of consideration, Keith slides his hand down and over until the tips of their pinkies bump into each other. “We should go out this weekend, like go on a ride out to town. Whatever you want, really.”
Lance’s blinks once, twice, three times, and—there. Comprehension floods and it takes only half a second before a high pitched noise scratches out of the boy’s throat. His eyes are wide, comically so, and he stares at Keith, mouth parting in an eclipse of a red moon. Then, just as Keith is committing the image to memory, he snaps his mouth shut and visibly shakes himself. “O-okay, I see. You mean like a scouting mission, right? For any lingering drones out in the desert. Well, yeah, um, as long as it’s okay with Shiro—”
“No,” he quickly cuts off, partially frustrated at the gap in communication and partially embarrassed that they would need clearance for what he has in mind. “I meant—a ride together—as in, you and me. No mission. Just us… together.”
The boy swallows loudly and Keith tracks the moment involuntarily.
"Oh.”
A lapse follows, not uncomfortable, but full. Keith buzzes in the aftertaste of his impromptu proposition and holy hell, he just asked Lance out. They’ve still yet to talk about the ball and how they had danced all night, and, despite the looks they receive from their teammates, neither of them have been brave enough to breach the silent agreement of keeping whatever feelings they had to themselves. However, now everything threatens to burst. His heart finally catches up to his words, beating in overdrive as he waits for an answer. But Lance seems not to care for the nervousness pulsing in his veins or the butterflies fluttering in the base of his stomach because he keeps up the uncharacteristic silence. It remains that way for a solid thirty seconds, until, finally, Keith can't take it anymore.
He clears his throat. “So, is that a yes?”
Lance jerks to attention, looking caught. “I, uh, what?”
“Do you want to go?”
Something incredible happens then. It’s wild and previously unthinkable, but Lance blushes.
He blinks and his vision doubles, half of it going auburn in a wash of caribbean light. He is by the waterfront, the sound of crashing waves dissolving into background noise when compared to the breathy laugh that washes over his face. Darkened cheeks lift in a smile that crinkles eyes and Keith goes a bit red himself at the image. The flash indulges him in a scene of utter bliss; velvety sand and supple lips, parting against his own.
Without thought he leans in, chasing the moment not yet passed. It causes present Lance’s eyes to go wide and it’s nothing like the cool burn of his half lidded gaze on the beach, salt drying on his lashes and sun-born freckles prickling his cheeks.
“I—ah, um. I—I’ll go.”
“Yeah?”
Lance looks away and then back. His voice is the quietest he’s ever heard. Almost shy. “Yeah.”
And it really is that easy.
The days go by slow after that, drawling in an agonizing pace. Second by second, minute by minute, hour by hour. Nearly stagnant, Keith hangs under time’s dispassionate influence, watching the clock and willing it to move. It’s a blessing when it finally hits five o’clock on the following Saturday. He stops the pacing he had been doing for the past hour and checks his reflection for the sixth time in as many minutes, tucking and untucking his shirt and running a hand in his hair in an futile attempt to tame it. When the results only further his agitation he gives up, collecting his nerves to the best of his ability making his way out the door with the intention of a quiet getaway.
Which makes him startle when he runs into Romelle outside his door, hand raised and poised to knock. “Keith! I've been sent to retrieve you!” He sees her gaze flicker down to take in his outfit—his cleanest pair of jeans, a corded necklace with a hanging Marmora pendant, and a leather jacket so new that its tag is stuffed in his back pocket—and he stops himself from turning back around and locking himself in his closet till the end of time. “Dinner is almost ready and Coran has made the most spectacular—”
“Actually,” he interrupts, unable to maintain eye contact, “I’ve got other plans.”
Romelle opens her mouth, but Keith, knowing the girl’s knack for rambling, is already speeding through the hallway.
Unfortunately for him, the living room is not as empty as he had previously thought. The yellow and green paladin are sitting on the couch, surrounded by a hurricane of blankets and pillows, the leftovers of a raid on Shiro’s candy stache sprawled across the coffee table.
“Aw, Keith, you look nice. What’s the occasion?”
Pidge looks up and over her screen, lips curling in a sly grin that instantly puts Keith on edge. “Yeah, Keith, where are you going?”
“Nowhere,” he says immediately. Then, “Out.”
“Out with Lance I bet. Isn’t your date today?”
Hunk gasps. “You guys are going on a date?”
“How did you…?” He spots his phone on the couch next to her and huffs angrily, stomping over and snatching it back. He quickly unlocks it, frowning when his last conversation with Lance immediately pops up, the other boy having sent a barrage of emojis in affirmation that their outing was still on. “Stop looking through my stuff and for the last time, we aren’t—it’s not a date. We’re just going for a ride, maybe check out the town market. It’s whatever.”
“I don’t know, that sounds a lot like a date to me. Hunk, any thoughts?”
Hunk has just one. “It’s totally a date.”
Heat flushes his cheeks. “Don’t you have your own quarters? Why are you even here?”
Pidge leans back, priggish smirk still in tact. “Matt and N-1 are having their rebel friends over and I didn’t want to third-wheel it, so Shiro said I could crash here for the night.”
Keith internally curses Shiro and his mother hen tendencies. Outwardly, he searches for the key card he’s pretty sure he left on the table the night before. His hair falls into his face as he ducks to check under the furniture and he brushes it back behind his ear, thinking maybe it would be more manageable in a ponytail.
“Look at him.” Pidge snickers. “What a schmuck.”
Hunk shushes her with a light pat of the arm. “I think it’s sweet. It means he cares. And don’t you worry Keith, I’m sure Lance will appreciate the effort you put into today. It’s also perfectly normal to be nervous for your first date— ”
“I’m not nervous and it’s not a date.”
Their response is lost when he goes to the office in the next room and searches there. But it’s all for naught because Shiro is a veritable mess when it comes to anything other than flying because there are papers scattered everywhere and it would take hours to file through even half of it.
When he comes back out, Allura has joined them. She perks up at the sight of him, but he ignores her in favor of checking in between the cushions of the armchair. However, Allura is not deterred. “Keith, Pidge and Hunk have just informed me of your date with Lance. If I may, I have some suggestions—”
“I don’t need any suggestions. I just need to leave or I’ll be late.” Pidge squawks indignantly when Keith shoves her to check her side of the couch.
“Yes, you’re right! Punctuality is very important for these types of things. Early duflax gets the wyvin, as Coran always says.” It seems pointless to mention that not once has he ever heard Coran say that. “But if I could impart some advice before you go. Now, I don’t know much about Earthen mating rituals, but Pidge tells me that courting is a common practice here— ”
“I’m not listening.”
“—gifts are imperative for a successful—”
“Can’t hear you.”
“—when you present, do so when tensions are high—”
“Allura, please, stop.”
“—and then, finally, you must lay claim—”
“I’m leaving,” Keith announces loudly, trying and failing to drown out the giggles that come from Hunk and Pidge’s side of the couch. Forget the keycard. It’s not worth this pain. “Bye. I hope you all have a terrible day.”
They are unfazed by his words, grinning like madmen as they wave. He stalks out of the room, shoulders hunched all the way to his ears as he desperately tries to block out the kissy noises Pidge is making. He can’t believe there was a time he was worried that they would be out of his life; he must have been having an existential crisis or something because this is a new level of embarrassing.
He’s so consumed in his thoughts that he nearly barrels into Shiro on his way out. It’s only the steady grip of his automated arms that Keith doesn’t crack his head against the doorframe and give himself a concussion.
“Whoa there. You okay?”
“Yeah, I’m just…”
“Looking for this?”
There, dangling from Shiro’s prosthetic fingers, is a familiar key card.
Keith lets out a deep breath, a whisper of relief cooling down the anxious fire within him by a few degrees. He sends his oldest friend a strained smile and takes them. “Yeah, thanks. Where did you find them?”
“Under the couch with one of my shoes, the holoscreen remote, Hunk’s headband, and Allura’s earrings. It seems like Kosmo’s starting a life of crime.”
He lets out a chuckle, unraveling just a little less. “I should probably put a stop to that.”
Shiro nods, patting his back in that sorta awkward, manly sort of way. It’s encouraging and he steps past the other man with a deep breath. Feeling more like himself, he secures the key card to his belt loop and turns to head down the corridor, promising himself that he’ll only start running when there’s no one to catch him doing it.
“Oh, Keith?”
Keith whips around, nerves already reinflating. “Yeah?”
Shiro fails to keep his smile in check. “Have fun on your date.”
And before he can even begin to retaliate, the door is sliding shut and he’s left there, standing in an empty hallway, red to his tips.
Lance looks nice. Really nice. Really, really, really nice. It’s actually a little distracting how nice he looks.
They had met up at the east end of the loading docks and Keith had fought to keep his cool when he had spotted the tall form of his fellow paladin casually leaning against a security rail. His white v-neck and ripped jeans contrasted with the industrial setting, his denim jacket faded and adorned with a couple of pins, sleeves rolled up to showcase the collection of beaded bracelets wrapped around his left wrist. But what had truly pulled it all together was the smile he had sent Keith upon noticing him.
“Hey,” he says.
“Hi,” Lance returns. “You clean up good, Mullet.”
The compliment flusters him a little and he nearly walks straight into a support beam, only just managing to avoid it with a side-step that brings him close enough to brush shoulders with Lance. “Thanks. You, uh, you too.”
Unsure of what to say next, he ducks his head and leads them to the area the coordinator had assigned him when he had called in the favor. Section A-26 is large and the usual aircraft that docks there is nowhere to be seen; instead, there his hoverbike sits, scavenged from the Blue Lion’s cave and restored to its previous glory. He hoists himself up into the seat with practiced ease and looks down at Lance expectantly.
Pink tints the other boy’s cheeks, but there’s this mischievous smile on his face as he asks, “Why do you get to drive?”
“Because I’m the one that knows where we’re going.”
“Wow, you actually have a plan. Um, okay, then where are we going? Or is that top secret?” He bounces where he stands, looking for all the word: giddish.
“It wasn’t until you asked.”
Lance looks pleased at the response and climbs up behind Keith.
The hoverbike dips a little at the uneven dispersion of weight and he offers his hand as a brace, blushing faintly when it’s taken. But thankfully, Lance doesn’t see, focused as he is on swinging a leg over the seat and scooting close enough to Keith that his chest brushes sparingly at his back. Then hands are wrapping around his middle, loose, and it’s embarrassing how responsive Keith’s body is to the touch, rolling in one long shiver that’s unmistakable. If Lance notices he doesn’t comment on it.
“Ready to roll,” he says, breath ghosting over the shell of his ear.
Keith puts on the goggles hidden in the front compartment and passes the extra pair he brought to his back seat passenger. Then it’s a matter of twisting the throttle and feeling the engine come to life beneath them, four hundred pounds of metal under his control. And it’s like it was just yesterday he was speeding across the desert with Shiro, tasting freedom for the first time, his hands gripping the handles like they were always meant to; the circumstance has changed but the feeling hasn’t and Keith, with the luxury knowing that he’s got time on his side, grins and drives.
“Woah!” Lance exclaims when Keith tears out of the loading docks, erupting into laughter when they take a sharp turn at the gates of the Garrison compound and startle the men stationed there.
Then it’s just the open desert road, flat and red-tinged. The torrid heat follows at their backs, rolling alongside tumbleweeds and whistling in the wind that buffets the nose of the hoverbike. Dust swirls under the speeder's anti-gravity fenders, curling over the shadowy silhouettes of cacti that they fly past. It brings the beds of the distance buttes into startling focus, massive against the clear sky and infinite horizon.
It takes twenty minutes to get to their destination.
Keith parks at the outskirts of the town nearest to the Galaxy Garrison, waiting for Lance to dismount before following. Their shoulders brush a bit as they stand side by side, Keith eyeing Lance as he eyes their surroundings curiously. The town market is already in full swing, tents set up and people bustling about, buying and selling wares; already, more than one individual behind a stand is calling out to them, offering a discount if they buy in bulk.
“I thought we could walk around a bit?” he says, hoping that the idea isn't too lame. “And after—well, there’s an arcade in the plaza a few streets down and they’ve got pizza.”
His fears are unfounded because Lance just grins. "Pizza not made out of green goo? Count me in."
Things go smoothly after that. The anxiety bubbling in Keith’s chest eases and it allows him the strength to grab Lance’s sleeve and tug him in the direction of a tent hosting a repository of wind chimes. From tent to tent, they go; browsing at board games from planets even they haven’t been to, giggling over misspelled words on shirts, daring each other to try gross-looking foods and petting every dog they see.
And it’s… fun. Keith is having fun.
Lance is great. He’s nice and funny and smart and actually seems to enjoy hanging out with Keith. He nods along when Keith speaks, insanely attentive, and offers his own input with great enthusiasm. They bicker too, playful jabs volleyed back and forth, easy and natural like it never was in the beginning but is now. And although Keith has never thought himself to be an overly funny guy, he finds that pulling a laugh out of his fellow paladin isn’t all that hard and even sort of a reward on all on its own.
It’s like they fit, slotting together like puzzle pieces—or flashes.
“Hey, Keith?” Lance’s hand finds Keith’s elbow. He had discarded his jacket just before they started eating, which is doing nothing to help the hot flush rushing to the apple of his cheeks. The corded muscles of forearms on display is near impossible to ignore and Keith’s eyes follow the dips and curves of his arm, the hard muscle leading up to his shoulder, the soft line of his neck, the defined jawline. “Your fries are getting cold.”
It’s the touch that has him pulling out of the confines of his thoughts, physically shaking his head and straightening his shoulders, not wanting to appear anything less than invested.
Naturally, the world seems to think Keith can’t have a single nice thing without a price because it’s just a few minutes into their meal that his phone starts to blow up with messages. A quick glance shows that most are from his mother, with a few from Shiro sprinkled in intermittently. All of the messages are ones of encouragement, some having been sent while they were driving and others steadily ignored when the two had browsed the stalls of the market.
Eventually all the small pings get to be enough that Keith has to silence his phone.
“You’re really popular today,” Lance notes, slathering an alarming amount of ranch onto his pizza. It’s only when he drowns the unsuspecting slice that he catches Keith’s surprised and guilty look that he elaborates, “Dude, your phone has been lighting up all day. I’d be blind not to notice.”
“Sorry.”
“It’s cool.”
Still, Keith feels the need to explain. “It’s Shiro and my mom. They’re… checking up on me.”
That gets a light laugh out of Lance. He brings out his own phone, showing Keith the mass of notifications on his lock screen. “I get that. I’ve gotten at least five texts asking if you’re secretly an axe murderer. I hope three years in space is enough time to confidently say that I wasn’t lying when I told them you weren’t. Would really put a damper on the day.”
“I don’t even own an axe.”
Lance’s grin grows and when he puts away his phone to continue eating, he doesn’t reclaim the few inches of space he had given away in order for Keith to see the screen. Their elbows knock a few times, but Keith doesn’t mind.
They leave the plaza in a good mood, making their way back to the hoverbike while they talk about nothing and everything. They only stop when they mount the vehicle and when Lance doesn’t ask Keith where they’re going he decides that he doesn’t want the day to be over quite yet, so he revs the throttle and heads toward the direction he knows his shack is. He eventually leads them to a hill that he and his father used to frequent when he was younger, an escape from the world long before the stars were something to shoot for.
It’s an easy hike up the hill and when they settle by the edge, their pinkies are touching.
“You can’t do that,” he says on their fourth game of tic-tac-toe when Lance brushes the dirt and erases his wobbly X, shifting it over a spot so that it blocks Keith’s next move. “That’s cheating.”
“No, Keithy boy, that’s what I call winning.”
“This isn’t a competition.”
“Isn’t it?” Que pursed lips and a sly side-eye. “If it’s not, then why did you dress up for today, huh? Trying to one up me in style too?”
“This is what I usually wear.”
“Pah-lease. Like I don’t know Shiro’s handiwork when I see it. Dude’s got an eye for colors and he did you a solid keeping with the red. Bet he put up such a fuss when you kept the fingerless gloves—they scream embarrassing scene phase that never really went away.” Lance laughs when he doesn’t immediately counter the accusation and it must fuel him because he continues. “I bet you were upset when you couldn’t find any eyeliner for our date—”
As if struck by lightning, Keith straightens.
“—probably used it all up making yourself look like an edgy, space raccoon going to some street race—”
Our date, Lance had said. He had called this a date. They were on a date right now. Officially. The two of them, together.
“—being emo. But, I mean, whatever works, you know? Sometimes you just gotta paint your nails black and—mmph!”
Keith’s kiss lands on his upper lip, hard and dry.
It’s quick, over and done within a matter of seconds. Lips tingling and heart hammering, Keith pulls back, soul leaving his suddenly flushed body when he realizes he can still feel the other’s breath on his face. He must remain in his catatonic state for longer than he realizes because then Lance’s giving him this particular frown and saying, “What was that?”
With nothing else to do, he shrugs helplessly. “It was a kiss.”
“I know what a kiss is.” Eyes search his. “Why did you kiss me? ”
“I wanted to,” he says simply. “Was that not okay?”
“No, that wasn’t… No, it was cool.”
“Cool,” Keith repeats.
Lance scratches the back of his neck. “Yeah. I liked it.”
“Me too,” he adds, looking down. A good portion of their game has been accidentally wiped away and he redraws it, purposefully putting all the X’s and O’s in their respective spots before Lance had decided to remake the rules. He nudges the other boy’s foot with his own, biting back a smile when they’re hooked together. “We can, um, stay here? If you want?”
“I’d like that.”
They stay long enough to watch the sun dip under the horizon.
As dates go, it’s the best he’s ever had.
Later, when he’s home and high off the promise of a second date, he walks into the kitchen to find his friends congregated despite the late hour.
“So,” Allura starts as soon as he walks in, boots loud on the linoleum floor, trying to appear casual as she leans against the counter and just failing. It doesn’t help that the space mice are nearly tripping over her hair as they peer at Keith from over her shoulder, adding four tiny pairs of eyes to the many already scrutinizing his every move. “You’re back awfully late.”
Romelle is no better, inspecting her nails even as her ears twitch in his direction. “Yes, how did it go?”
There’s a plate of cookies on the island counter, comically shaped like the lions and dressed in an assortment of colors. He picks up the only red one on top and bites into it, humming at its surprising sweetness. Knowing his audience still expects an answer, he attempts an aloof shrug and nails it. “It was fine.”
There’s a pause and Keith can tell something is coming. He doesn’t know what exactly, but the warning signs are all there, flashing neon when Allura steeples her fingers and gives him a look.
“And the other… thing?”
“What other thing?”
“Why your kiss with Lance, of course.”
He nearly drops the sweet in his hand and immediately goes to look through the kitchen pass-through, spotting the rumpled state of the pillows and blankets by the living room window looking out to the barrack’s hallway. That and the smudge of chocolate on the window sill, coupled with the candy wrappers sticking out of Pidge’s hoodie pouch, can only mean one thing. “Were you watching?”
“No,” Romelle and Hunk immediately deny just as Allura and Pidge say, “Yes.”
Keith fumbles for a plausible reaction. His friends had undoubtedly seen the goodbye kiss that had been exchanged between him and Lance when the latter had insisted on walking him home; it had been a memorable kiss and Keith had maybe lost himself to it for longer than he’s willing to admit, but that’s something else entirely. A little helplessly, he searches the room for a means of end for this absolute embarrassment. He finds none. “That’s—I can’t believe—uncool!”
“Lance texted me almost immediately after,” Hunk offers, as if that makes up for his eavesdropping and then denial of said eavesdropping. “He hasn’t stopped talking about how you sprung one on him. You don’t really beat around the bush, do you?”
Shiro, the traitor, nods. He ignores Keith’s death glare and takes a sip of his tea, eyes crinkling with mirth over the rim of his mug. “Keith has always been very straightforward in what he wants. A real go-getter.”
It’s at that time that Coran makes an appearance, dressed in an obnoxiously orange pajama set with a matching hat, but any hope Keith has of the older man causing a distraction and, by default, a new topic change dissipates when he asks, “Oh, are we talking about Keith and Lance’s kiss? Congratulations Keith, I hear it had quite the impact.”
Pidge looks like she’s barely holding back a laugh. “Yeah, way to go in for the kill, Keith.”
“Can we stop talking about this?” He doesn’t wait for an answer. “Stop talking. Just stop talking. I don’t want to hear another word.”
Thankfully, they listen and grow quiet. It doesn’t stop the looks that are thrown his direction, especially with Allura nearly vibrating in her slippers in the effort to capture his gaze, but it’s easy to scowl and turn away. He snatches the drink Shiro holds, ignoring the other’s surprised whine, and takes a sip, ready to head to bed and purge this conversation from his mind, never to be brought up again—
“Did you use tongue?”
Keith chokes.
Hunk merely hums. “Yeah, didn’t look like it.”
Keith thought he knew what love was.
It had been an easy thing, once upon a time. It had been his dad’s hugs after a long day, the blade left to him from a mother he didn’t know, a pat on the back following a perfect maneuver from a brother he found. It was as simple as looking up at the sky and letting himself get lost, for space was everything he had ever wanted, vast and exciting and impossible. Constant and safe and easy, a look to the heavens that held every dream.
But this is new.
New in that he is utterly blindsighted and unprepared for when it happens. A change in heart, from wistful ache to hopeful relief, sudden in the wake of new love. Stitched together through time and soft words, it beats again. Thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump, it goes, drumming loudly against his chest, swelling at touches that burn like supernovas, thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump.
Even more goosebump-inducing than the fire in his chest is the response it gets. Because, startling enough, the feeling is reciprocated.
No words have been said but the thought is there. It comes through in the accidental brushes that turn to lingering caresses. It’s the stretch of an arm thrown over wide shoulders, heads dipped closer as casual words are exchanged. It’s the lack of space as they sit, thighs pressed firmly together and feet idly kicking. It’s the pluck of pink petals out of dark hair, absent-minded, curling in the breeze. It’s the hand pressed against a lower back, feather-light as it guides them closer and onward.
Everything is the same, but different.
Following the date, they are still Lance and Keith, still stubborn and opinionated and more than willing to call each other out, but now—now, they’re more. Keith can talk strategy for restoration while their hands are clasped under the table; can steal a kiss during a spar and, while the other is distracted, sweep his legs right out from underneath him and ensure his victory; can argue the integrity of putting pineapple on pizza for three hours while cuddled under Lance’s arm; and can even sneak the boy into his room when Shiro and his mom are out on call, leaving the door closed and the lights off. He’s allowed to do these things—encouraged, even, if Lance's pleased as punch looks are anything to go by—to look, to touch, to hold. It’s a recently discovered niche in which they fall into, each eager to explore, and once they find their line, Lance makes a point of tiptoeing it. And Keith—well, Keith can't find it in himself to complain.
(“Like this,” the Lance of his flashes murmurs to him one night as he gets ready for bed—only for the words to be spoken again three days later as they curl into each other on the beat-up couch in his shack. “I like it like this.”)
Life shapes into something remarkable in the days of after. It becomes a certainty that the flashes had promised and Keith sometimes can’t believe it, that he gets this. Gets this and more. Because not that long ago, he had nothing—he was nothing—scraping by, sneering at everything he couldn’t have just to hide how it hurt to be denied the love he so desperately craved. But that’s the past and though it shapes him, it is not him. He is here, today, and soon, tomorrow too.
Tomorrow and every day that comes after.
In a menagerie of light, meteor showers and space whales, Keith dreams.
Even so long apart, the abyss is a physical thing inside him. It curls inside in the space behind his heart while he sleeps, coveting each heartbeat like a dragon to a horde; time does not exist in this plane and each heart beat, a remembrance to what he has lived through and what he will live through, is too enticing to pass up. It croons out a soft lullaby, asking for one last look.
Keith gives it.
It’s the sand between his toes and lips meeting his own, sun-warm and pliant to the lazy breeze. It’s the hot puff of breath at his neck while frantic hands explore. It’s the ring on his finger and the sip of champagne, glasses clinking in a toast made. It’s the weight of a child on his chest, calm and innocent, snoring lightly as a small hand fists his shirt. It’s the dip of a mattress every night, for the rest of his nights.
Keith wakes up and knows that’s the last flash he’ll ever have.
On the first day of the rest of his life Lance challenges Keith to a race.
It’s not the first time one of them has issued such a dare and it surely won’t be a last, but Keith still treats it like it’s the most important thing he’s ever done. He squares his shoulder and steps up to the plate, toe to toe, staring Lance in the eye as he accepts. It’s like old times, even with the newness between them, rearing up in the deliberate way Lance tilts his head, chin jutting out in that stubborn fashion of his, the crook of his eyebrow and the curl of his lips dangerous in ways Keith is only just getting used to.
Nevertheless, the day finds them back at the loading docks, convincing the Atlas crew to let them borrow another speeder. When Keith has signed the proper paperwork he turns to find Lance already seated on one of the hoverbikes. The red one.
Keith squints and Lance grins, but lets it go with a soft huff. He walks over to the gray bike and hoists himself with little effort, straddling the sleek seat and making himself familiar with the controls.
“Ready?” he asks once he's done.
“Born ready,” is Lance’s answer.
And, well, Keith can't let a challenge like that stand.
Without further ado, he revs the engine and shoots down the catwalk. He hears the beginning of a surprised squawk before the wind is boxing his ears, tugging at his hair, chasing away everything until it is just him and the road.
Flying is in his blood. It’s been a part of him since as long as he can remember. It was there when he sat atop his father’s shoulders, arms spread wide and leaning back as far as he dared, staring up, up, up. Fondly, he recalls the way big hands had grasped his tiny ankles and the voice, deep and honest, quoting, Once you have tasted flight, you will forever walk the earth with your eyes turned skyward, for there you have been, and there you will always long to return.
He had been too young to understand the words then, but he thinks he understands them now.
Though the most air he gets this time around is a particularly steep ledge over a slim ravine a quarter of a mile east from Galaxy Garrison property, it still feels the same. Like he’s taking a deep breath for the first time, lungs expanding until he is weightless, free. Free to be who he is, even if that is a boy quick to anger and slow to love.
And Keith likes who he is now. Likes who he can be—with Krolia, with Shiro and the team, with Lance.
In the end, Keith wins the race.
It’s a close call and his heart races at the thought of it. Because Lance is grinning that absurd grin, eyes crinkling with the force of it, and his hair is a mess, windblown and highlighted gold by the sun. The white shirt that clings to him is twisted and Lance makes a halfhearted effort to fix it as he quiets his hoverbike’s engine and starts talking in compensation, mouth moving a mile a minute.
“I almost had you at that last bend,” he is saying, leaning back in his seat so that his torso is one sleek slant. “I shouldn't have hesitated on the acceleration—I guess I’m just not an adrenaline junkie like you, but hey, now that I know the angle, it’ll be different. So I say we go around again. Two out of three wins. Loser has to help Coran clean the—Keith? Hello? Are you even listening to me?”
It’s not a flash, but it feels like one.
“Keith?” Shoulders rise as Lance angles his head to catch his gaze, honest concern coloring those beautiful eyes. They aren’t that close, hovebikes parked perpendicular to one another, but he swears he can see the universe reflecting in dark navy. Planets colliding and forming, spinning in orbit around a dilated pupil. “Hey, man, what’s wr— ”
“Date me.”
The words are out of his mouth before he has time to really think about them and what they mean.
Lance splutters. “What?”
But now that the idea has been introduced. Keith can't deny its appeal; to keep what they have, in all its stubborn sincerity and wild attraction, going for as long as they live. Perhaps even further than that. “Date me,” he says again, with more conviction. A pause. “Please. Please date me.”
A moment, then—
“You just have to beat me at everything, don't you?” Lance starts, loud enough to be considered yelling, but having none of the thunderous anger usually associated with the volume. “Can't even give me this one thing, can you? Well, the joke’s on you—cause it was going to be great! I had everything planned out and it was going to be the most romantic thing ever! Would've blown this disaster out of the water, I'm telling you!” He stands and, uncaring of the wobble it gives under his weight, marches purposefully across the wing of his bike until they’re parallel to one another. One of his hands waves madly about, flying across the entire range of their surroundings before gesturing to Keith himself. “Candles and rose petals everywhere! Hunk was gonna cook something nice and we would've danced and—and you were gonna swoon! Straight into my arms! There would've been kissing and everything! The whole shebang!”
Keith furrows his eyebrows, lost. “What?”
But Lance blows past his confusion and slumps to the side in an expulsion of energy, mumbling, “God, you're such a jerk.”
Hands move to grip the front of his shirt, the only warning before the entire weight of his maybe-boyfriend is forced upon him. Keith feels the wisp of eyelashes fluttering against the column of his neck as Lance smooshes his nose into the junction there, mumbling words and noises he can't hope to translate. He returns the clumsy embrace automatically, winding his arms around the other’s waist and resting his cheek on a soft, brown crown of hair.
“So… yes?”
Lance laughs a watery laugh, deliriously happy, and leans back to stare him straight in the eye, a whirlwind of blue caught in a crystal ball of stars. The grip on his shirt loosens, fingers trailing up his chest until they tease the nape of his neck. “Of course it's a yes, you absolute loser.”
Keith frowns even as his heart sings, melody erupting into fireworks so loud he might go deaf. “See, it's stuff like that last part that really mix me up.”
“Oh my gosh, just shut up and kiss me.”
So he does.
Time, like most things in Keith’s life, is something he keeps close.
#klance#voltron#vld#laith#keith x lance#keith kogane#lance mcclain#voltron legendary defender#aeon#fanfiction#writing#chomp chomp goes the raptor
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Mind Boggling Pt 1 - Miya Atsumu
Soulmate AU: At particular times (Once a year/ certain age/ hours/ or randomly) soulmates swap bodies for some time. (Specifics vary from story to story but I love this au wholeheartedly)
Requested
Word Count: 2k
Pt 1 | Pt 2
The rules were set for soulmates, whether they happen to have a tattoo, be colourblind, or even have wings or tails sprouting out of their bodies, rules were set. So why the hell were you so terrified? Though your soulmate quirk was a little hard to distinguish at a young age because of its nature, it was easily identified once you got a little older.
Body swap, where after a person turns 17 their mind is transferred to their soulmates for some time at any time. Though the combinations can vary from person to person, swapping only ever happens after a person turns 17. Should a soulmate happen to be below the age of 17 while the other is of age or above, the older will not have full control of the other’s actions and the younger will not be aware of the older’s presence, this only lasts momentarily before they are returned to their own body. In some cases, nothing happens until the youngest is of age as well.
Now, why were you scared? Well, when your birthday happens to be at the end of the year, the possibility of your soulmate seeing you do things you didn’t want them to, becomes increasingly high. All your friends were having fun drawing on their arms to communicate, or fiddling with their assigned jewellery (because they didn’t have a physical manifestation). You, on the other hand, sat at the side of the classroom, staring out the window to the falling snow outside trying to prevent yourself from doing anything embarrassing until the time came for you to turn 17.
Hitomi, one of your friends, sat on the desk behind your seat and played with your hair. In your mind, she got a lucky match in comparison to most. On her inner wrist was the full name of her soulmate. Whenever you complained about your quirk she would smack your shoulder saying something about she wished could live in someone else’s body for a day.
“So, are you going to decorate your room?” Hitomi asked as her nails picked at a pesky knot at the ends of your hair.
You laughed, “Ya right. I may be worried about the swap thing, but changing how my room looks isn’t going to be worth the effort.”
Finally clearing the tangled mess, Hitomi leaned back with a sigh.
“Are you at least going to write something? So they can know a bit about you?”
You fiddled with the pencil in your hand, spinning it between your fingers. You shook your head. The chances of things going the way you wanted were so low that eventually, you gave up trying to make them go your way. One of your fingers flicked too fast, shooting the pencil across the room.
“Even if I wanted to, I just lost my pencil.”
“Karma.”
“How the hell is that karma?”
“I don’t know, ask Karma.”
You sighed, letting your head fall into your hands that began to massage the skin along your hairline. These next few days were going to be rough.
You had always conjured up a story of how your first swap would go. Something like waking up in their bed one morning on a Sunday with all of their things being laid out in a way that made it easy for you to learn about them. Maybe, they’d have a letter on their desk or taped to a mirror for you to read.
Nope. Why would life take it easy on you of all people?
You fell asleep in class, which admittedly was your fault for going to bed so late. Even though the teacher wasn’t engaging enough to keep your attention on her for more than a few seconds at a time. But by the end of the period, your classmates would wake you up for lunch, no problem. At least that’s what you had thought when you closed your eyes.
That’s what you expected, but when you opened your eyes to loud cheering and high pitched squeaking you were more than a little confused.
First of all, it was extremely bright. Too bright. You thought your eyes were closed before. But now, as they squinted to adjust to the light, they were so tightly glued together that it hurt your nose. Next, it was loud. Much louder than your second-year beginner English class where the teacher insisted that no one spoke, and acted upon that rule. Lastly, you were standing in front of an open mesh wall with two glaring eyes drilling into your forehead.
You staggered back, pulling your hands up to your chest. It was then you noticed how tall you were standing, and how your centre of gravity was way off. Your body also felt bulkier, like your normal skin had expanded to a place it hasn’t been before. A hand landed on your shoulder.
“Nice set, Tsumu.”
“Huh?” behind you was a boy, standing eye level with you with hair that had been bleached to a mousey brown, almost silver colour. His eyes were open but tired, making the rich brown colour seem dull. You felt attached to him immediately. Even with his somewhat silent demeanour, the boy seemed welcoming. He was panting and sweating. Realizing this, you could feel the sweat roll down the side of your face.
The boy tilted his head, “You’re a little out of touch, did those freaks scare you?”
You looked to where the boy pointed, the copper top and his black-haired friend were still glaring at you.
“Why? Why are they glaring at me?” you fiddled with your now noticeably larger hands, now staring at their size and red blotchy colour.
“You okay, Atsumu?”
Another boy walked up to your side. His hair was parted in the center, framing his face that held an expression of general disinterest and exhaustion. He had an air of confidence surrounding him, even if it didn’t show through his slouched back, and his dark eyes seemed too analytical for any lazy person.
“Who?”
“Osamu, get the coach.”
The first boy nodded, waving over to the side where two men sat, watching. The addressed man called the ref, who stood atop a sort of podium next to the large net. The man blew his whistle and you were quickly ushered off in the coaches’ direction. As the head coach continued to watch the game progress the assistant coach with choppy black hair guided you to sit down.
Your knees pushed together tightly. Rather uncomfortably really, you let your legs relax when you noticed this. Your hands continued to fidget, picking under the nails as you watched the sport continue before you. Volleyball, you concluded, how you didn’t notice earlier was beyond you but it was likely the gravity of the situation you were in distracting you.
“You okay Atsumu?” the man asked, taking the seat next to you.
Your brow furrowed and your head tilted.
“Ya, here’s the thing, who’s Atsumu?”
Just as the man was about to speak, the scenery changed. Everything melted into new shapes, never really looking like something that didn’t exist but never being a fully-fledged object until everything froze back into place. Hitomi glared down at you.
“What an asshole,” she scoffed.
“Well, thanks I guess?”
Hitomi scoffed and glared in your direction before starting to pace around. You looked around the classroom. It was empty, lunch probably started a few minutes ago. Hitomi spoke, brushing a hand through her hair, but didn’t stop walking.
“Your soulmate’s an ass.”
You tilted your head with a nod, “Did you at least give him my name?”
The girl stopped walking and looked away from you.
“It didn’t come up. Not that he seemed all that interested anyway.”
“Not surprised,” you said, pressing your finger into your wrist. Your pulse was up. “He was in the middle of a volleyball match.”
“Please tell me he’s at least muscular.”
You sighed and slouched in your chair. Turning a bit to look outside at the gently falling snow again. You paused.
“Ya, he is.”
This happened a few more times, always at the most inconvenient, and you both overtime got to learn about each other through your pears. You found out that the first person you had met was Atsumu’s twin, although their personalities were different according to their teammates. Atsumu managed to open your phone and find a few of your photos and put in his number. These swaps happened often. Often enough that your friends could tell who was who before either of you spoke.
Whenever you happened to show up during practice, Atsumu’s teammates would help you learn the sport. It came relatively easy to you thanks to Atsumu’s muscle memory and build, but from the team’s perspective, it was more of a humorous game as they watched their talented teammate stumble around and make mistakes that he normally wouldn’t.
It was like this for a while. Until you found out your team was participating in the Hyogo Interhigh Preliminaries. You signed your and Hitomi’s names up to support your team at the tournament.
“Shouldn’t you be cheering for your boyfriend’s team?” Hitomi teased, elbowing you in the ribs.
“I will when they have a game going on.”
Despite having never talked in person over the past couple of months, the two of you did talk regularly after Atsumu put his number on your phone. You had a plan for how the day would go. First, you would watch and cheer on your school’s team. Then, once you got the chance, you’d sneak off to see the Inarizaki boys play. By the end of the game, that they hopefully win, you would run down onto the pitch and hug him.
You were delusional and you knew it.
Inarizaki’s supporting band was intense and manipulative. You had gotten to the game a little late, running from your school’s game that just wrapped up. You walked down the steps of the stands to stand next to two girls that leaned against the bannister. Despite not knowing the school’s cheerleading practices, you did your best to follow along. Up until Atsumu was up to serve.
His eyes were the same as Osamu’s, staring intently at the team across from him that shook from leg fatigue. Sweat had managed to get into his hair, making it look a bit greasy. And blood had rushed into his arms, making his veins more prominent, even from a distance.
You cheered with the girls next to you just as the band went silent. Atsumu glared up in your direction. You froze watching as he turned his attention back towards the net and served, leading to their point and win. As the band around you cheered you grumbled, crossing your arms.
“Jeez, you are an asshole, huh?” you mumbled, turning to walk back up the stairs to find Hitomi.
You had hoped to leave the tournament that day without interacting with your soulmate.
“Here again? Seriously?” in front of you was Osamu who chuckled at the sound of his brother whining.
“Hey, (Y/N). We won,” he said, raising his hands in the air slightly.
You crossed your arms, “I know. I’m here.”
Pointing up at the stands where your body was now spinning around to see where they were. You continued to talk with an annoyed tone.
“And right about now Atsumu is going to realize that he gave me a death glare not a moment ago.”
Osamu started to laugh louder, watching his brother, in your body, begin to grip your hair and squat in panic as if he wasn’t wearing a skirt.
“He’s an idiot sometimes, please be patient.”
You nodded, “I know. I’m just waiting for him to make eye contact.”
He did, and he winced, sending a meek wave in your direction. You pinched your lips together in a sarcastic smile and raised your brows. Lifting your hand, you sent a single wave in his direction.
“You’re going to punch yourself aren’t you?” Osamu asked as you both started to walk off the gym and out of view of Atsumu’s frightened stare.
You cracked the knuckles of Atsumu’s hand.
“You bet.”
There’s a part two. -Bacon
Posted: 02/07/2020
#haikyuu x reader#miya atsumu#atsumu x reader#Haikyuu#x reader#oneshot#oneshots#haikyuu oneshots#haikyuu reader insert#reader insert#aus#haikyuu aus#fluff#haikyu#anime x reader#anime#manga x reader#manga
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Closed Book Chapter 2
Chapter 1
A week passed since the library incident with only some pranks being pulled. Emira was trapped in the house except for going to school and when Mittens needed to be escorted somewhere. Sure, she and Ed would find things to do between school and getting home, but it wasn’t nearly as much as they were doing before. They tried to sneak out one night too, but as expected that only led to their father catching them red handed and threatening to extend their sentence.
As for escorting Mittens, well, her sister wasn’t keen on the idea. The first time Emira asked if she could go with her, just a couple days after the punishment started, Mittens had snapped back that she didn’t need to be escorted and would be fine on her own. With Ed’s help, Emira was able to get that no turned into a very reluctant yes.
It was a short-term win, they got to go to the market that day and re-arrange the lettering on some signs, but a long-term loss. Mittens stopped telling them when and where she was going somewhere, which was definitely to avoid the two tagging along.
This meant that Emira was again stuck in the house. Maybe she deserved it, no she for sure deserved it, but that didn’t make the punishment any easier to bear.
Today, she was sitting downstairs in one of the side rooms of the house. Normally she would be in her or Ed’s room, but this afternoon was different.
Mittens had come home from school with a couple of friends. These were two girls she’d known for many years, or at least Emira could recall seeing them at least once that long ago. This wasn’t the first time they’d been by. Mittens had brought home friends before, but Emira could count those instances on one hand.
She used to have another friend too, though Emira couldn’t remember her name or the last time she’d seen her. That was before Mittens started at Hexside, so it was quite a long time ago.
The younger teens were in another side room, which of course just happened to be next to where Emira lurked. What a delightful coincidence, she chuckled silently as she moved a chair into exactly the right position. Ed hadn’t wanted to participate in this, claiming it was boring and pointless. Emira would prove how wrong he was.
While sitting against the correct wall and with the right spell, Emira could easily listen in on the conversation between Mittens and her friends.
This was a great chance to pick up some gossip about underclassmen and Mittens herself. Also, Emira had unfortunately made zero progress in getting to know Mittens better. She had asked a couple of easy questions, but was rejected or ignored every time. Mittens still seemed to be mad at her for what happened at the library. Maybe eavesdropping would provide better results. If was definitely easier and way more fun.
With a spin of her finger, Emira cast the spell so she could listen in.
“And I thought, no way her test score is higher than mine.” That voice belonged to uh, the one with pink hair and three eyes. What was her name again? Bash or something like that? “But when I took it, it really was!” Bash’s voice rose as if to convey her absolute disbelief.
“What did you do?” This was the other friend, was it Scare? That sounded close enough.
“You know I couldn’t just leave it.” Bash responded smugly. “She’ll get a swelled head. I left a note on her locker, so she can remember her place.” From the tone alone, Emira could tell that the note was not a kind one. Were they talking about bullying another student? It sure sounded like it. “Amity helped get it just right.”
“I barely did anything.” Finally Mittens spoke, surprisingly surly considering she was speaking with her friends. “That was all you.”
“Whatever, Willow is so gonna freak when she sees it tomorrow.” Bash cackled, drawing a chuckle from Scare as well. “She won’t challenge me again.”
“As it should be.” Scare sounded satisfied.
They were kind of mean, weren’t they? Emira thought as she listened to the exchange. Not exactly the witchlings she would want to befriend. Sure, she and Ed played pranks at school, but they didn’t bully anybody.
The conversation continued, shifting away from their classmates to homework. Most of the talking was done by Bash and Scare, with Mittens only contributing when asked something directly.
It was strange to listen to. Not like Mittens was much of a talker in the first place, but Emira thought she would open up more with friends. She wasn’t getting any good material here, not on underclassmen or on Mittens.
Emira stuck with it only because there was nothing else to do. Well that was a lie; there was her homework, but even this was better than that.
Exactly on the hour, which was about thirty minutes after Emira started listening in and basically one hour after they had arrived, Mittens friends got up to go. They both bid her a brief farewell and left the room together. Emira could hear their footsteps as the walked past the room she was in, headed towards the front door.
Mittens hadn’t gone with them. At least, the sound of her footsteps hadn’t.
Emira cut off the listening spell and stood from her chair with a stretch. She opened the door to the hallway and poked her head out to see if Mittens was just sneaking by, but it was empty.
It was tempting to just go up to her room, or to Ed’s to fill him in on how boring the experience had been, but not today. That was what the old Emira would’ve done, pre library Emira. The new Emira, who was trying to learn about her sister, would take this opportunity to have some one on one time with her.
Giving herself a little pep talk of, “you can do it!” Emira approached the room Mittens remained in. She didn’t bother knocking, just pushed the door open and entered.
As expected, Mittens was there alone. She sat in one of the chairs with her school bag next to her and was writing on a piece of paper, likely the homework she started while her friends were there.
“Oh, your friends are gone?” Emira played it as if she hadn’t been listening to their conversation for the last half hour. “Bash and Scare right?” Might as well get their real names, since Emira was pretty sure she had them wrong.
“Boscha and Skara.” Reliable Mittens corrected her, not even looking up from her homework.
“Ah right that’s it.” Emira had been closer than she thought. “Too bad. I wanted to get to know them, since they’re your friends and all.”
This brought Mittens eyes up, and not in a friendly way. Her gold eyes were narrowed with suspicion. “Why?” If a word could bite, that would’ve stung.
“Is there something wrong with wanting to know my sister’s friends?” Even though she really wasn’t trying to start trouble, Emira still felt the need to act innocent and smooth things over.
“Yes.” Was the flat response she got in return.
Emira resisted a sigh; this was exactly how Mittens had been responding to her efforts all week. She knew it would be difficult to build trust after the library incident, but hadn’t been prepared for what exactly that meant. In retrospect, the 14 years of teasing and pranks probably didn’t help either.
“Really, I’m just curious. How long have you known them anyway?” Emira sat down in an abandoned chair near Mittens, where one of the other teens probably sat before. This was an easy question, not too probing, so hopefully she would answer.
Mittens’ expression softened minutely, which was a good sign. “I’m not sure, 5 or 6 years probably.” That was about what Emira thought too.
“What do you usually do with them? They don’t come over to the house much.” Might as well keep asking questions, since Mittens had answered the last one.
“Nothing really, shopping I guess.” Mittens looked like she had to think hard about that answer. “And homework.” She nodded. Of course, Mittens was ever the studious child.
“Do you do anything fun with them?” Emira pressed again, still looking for a hobby or something new. She already knew Mittens liked to do homework and sometimes went to the market.
Mitten’s shook her head. “I don’t spend that much time with them. They can be…” Her voice trailed off, as if already regretting the words she wanted to say.
Emira took a slow breath, giving Mittens a chance to finish the sentence. When her sister didn’t continue, she took the plunge.
“They’re kind of mean aren’t they?”
Mittens golden eyes widened in surprise, looking right into Emira’s. After a moment’s pause her expression softened into what could almost be considered a smile. “Yeah, they are.” She quickly shifted back to a frown and sighed, a big sigh for a 14 year old kid. “Nothing I can do about it.” She muttered and looked down, as if just talking to herself. Mittens looked so concerned over this, Emira couldn’t help but try to help.
“Why don’t you hang out with someone else? I thought you had another friend before, I can’t remember what her name was though.” Emira looked into the distance and brought one hand to her chin, trying to remember that kid’s name. It was no use; she didn’t know it.
When she looked back over at Mittens, her expression had changed. It was like a cloud had slammed down over her face, replacing any softness with clenched teeth and a sharp frown. “I can’t.” Mitten’s spoke tersely, bringing palpable tension to the room.
Emira was surprised, but she could adapt to the conversation. “They say there are plenty of other fish in the sea. I’m sure lots of other witchlings will want to be your friend.” She offered with a smile, hoping to be encouraging. Mittens was the top of her class, and despite all the teasing Emira did think highly of her magic and her ability to make friends.
This did not seem to be what her sister wanted to hear.
Mittens stuffed her paper into her bag and stood abruptly, taking a few terse steps towards the door. She didn’t even look back as she spoke in a low biting tone. “You wouldn’t understand.” She left before Emira could muster her thoughts to call after her, all but slamming the door behind her.
Well, Emira thought as she sat stunned with one hand extended towards the closed door, that could’ve gone better.
Chapter 3
#the owl house#the owl house fanfiction#fanfiction#flip writes#emira blight#amity blight#emira#amity
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(Planning the Day) To Meet You
Wangxian, Modern AU, Slow Burn, E-Rated
[Read on AO3]
Chapter 8
Tuesday, Sixteenth Day with Wei Ying
Lan Wangji almost prepares lunch for three people again. But no. Today it will only be Wei Ying and him in the library. He’d gotten used to A-Yuan and their playground meetings so quickly, the time before almost seems like a distant memory. The last time they were alone in the library, Lan Wangji still thought Wei Ying was married.
So much has happened since then, in barely more than a week. Excitement curses through him, as he wonders what might happen during the following days. Yesterday, Wei Ying kissed him. He’d given him four kisses. Maybe a week from now, he’ll have collected even more. Lan Wangji smiles and pours coffee into the thermos for Wei Ying. He really hopes so.
Today, Wei Wuxian is wearing a normal T-Shirt again, no buttons in sight. Probably better that way.
“Lan Zhan, do you like my shirt?” Wei Ying straightens it, so Lan Wangji can take a better look, the style reminiscent of the kind of shirts Wen Ning seems to like. With some effort, he manages to decipher the spiky letters. Oh.
“Yiling… Laozu.”
“Yes! Your new favourite band, right?” Wei Ying grins as he sits down on his chair across from Lan Wangji.
“Mn. Everyone should listen to them at least once in their lives.” Lan Wangji barely suppresses a shudder.
“Ha!” Wei Ying cackles, as delighted as the first time Lan Wangji has made a humorous remark in his presence. ”Yes, let’s spread the suffering, good idea!”
They have no problem going back to the library rhythm they had before but… Lan Wangji can’t forget that Wei Ying kissed him yesterday. He knows he won’t get any more work done now. What if he focuses on a book and ends up missing the smiles Wei Ying has apparently been sending his way, according to the drawing?
He wonders whether Wei Ying also knows a Good Morning spell. But he doesn’t ask.
The morning passes quickly and quietly. Lan Wangji had sort of anticipated things would be different after last week, but except for how he can’t stop thinking about possible excuses for them to kiss again, nothing has changed.
At 11:30 a.m., they go outside for lunch and Wei Ying happily eats and drinks the things Lan Wangji has brought for him.
Wei Ying is blissfully taking apart a clementine, when he cocks his head and throws a thoughtful look Lan Wangji’s way.
“Lan Zhan, do you have a car?”
“No. Why?”
“Ah, nevermind! It was a silly idea anyway.”
“Do you need to go somewhere? I can borrow my brother’s car.”
“No need! Don’t trouble yourself! It’s really not important, haha.”
“Wei Ying.” By now he knows that Wei Ying wouldn’t have even mentioned it if it was really ‘nothing’ or something he didn’t care about. Lan Wangji tries to not overwhelm Wei Ying with how much he’s willing to do for him, but nudging him a little to tell him what it is he wants should be fine.
“Lan Zhan.”
Lan Wangji, about to bite into a carrot, puts it back into his lunch box and stares at Wei Ying, frowning. Since Wei Ying can decipher his frowns, he should know this one means Lan Wangji will keep staring until he tells him.
“You’re so stubborn. Fine.” Wei Ying huffs and pouts and finally relents. ”I was only asking, because there’s this forest playground A-Yuan really likes, but it’s hard to reach with public transportation. We sometimes go with Jiejie and Jin Ling and-”
“Wei Ying.” Lan Wangji already decided to help before Wei Ying even asked anyway.
“-and A-Yuan seems a bit bored right now because daycare is still closed and it’s nice and cool on that playground because there’s lots of shadow from the trees, but Jiejie is on some kind of fancy beach vacation, so I was only thinking that it would be nice, but of course you don’t have to-”
“Yes. Wei Ying. When do you want to go? Tomorrow?”
“Ah, you would really do that, Lan Zhan? A-Yuan would be so happy, he always likes spending time with tall-gege.”
It puzzles him that Wei Ying seems so… nervous. Isn’t it abundantly clear Lan Wangji likes to spend time with them and that he’s very willing to do so? Why is he still surprised by that or unsure whether Lan Wangji really means it?
“I also like spending time with A-Yuan. And Wei Ying.” That should clear up any confusion on that matter.
“Ah, Lan Zhan, your flirting is getting out of control!” Wei Ying winks and laughs, and then holds a little monologue about why this particular playground is so great and what would be the best time to go there to escape the afternoon heat and does Lan Wangji like birds, because there are so many birds to see.
Lan Wangji feels a little frustrated. Wei Ying keeps calling it flirting whenever Lan Wangji states his honest feelings and he didn’t mind before, but... when Wei Ying frames it as flirting, the sincerity doesn’t seem to reach him. And Lan Wangji doesn’t know how to change that. He can’t tell whether Wei Ying does it on purpose or whether Lan Wangji is just not using the right words or the right tone or the right facial expression. Does Wei Ying not want his sincerity? Last night, his cheeks still burning from the kisses and the drawing held carefully in his hands, he���d been so sure they were both going in the same direction. And he doesn’t think he’s wrong about that.
He’ll just have to work harder to show Wei Ying that they’re walking the same path.
Lan Wangji
I borrowed my brother’s car.
Should I come pick you up at 3 p.m.?
Wei Ying
Maybe 2:30.
Since it’ll take us about 40 min to get there.
Does that work for you?
Lan Wangji
Yes.
I’m looking forward to spending the day with you.
What about a car seat for A-Yuan?
Wei Ying
We have a seat, just no car! ;P
It’ll be fun :)
Lan Wangji
Last night I slept really well
Wei Ying
Uhm… that’s nice!
Lan Wangji
The Dream Spell worked
Wei Ying
Aaah Lan Zhan
Well, I’m glad!
I must be a very good spellcaster ;)
Lan Wangji
You are.
Wei Ying
Here’s another one
❤❤❤
❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤
❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤
Sweet dreams Lan Zhan
Lan Wangji
Sweet dreams, Wei Ying.
Wednesday, Seventeenth Day with Wei Ying
Lan Wangji only arrives ten minutes early this time. However, he doesn’t bother waiting, before leaving his car and ringing the doorbell. It takes a little while before he hears a breathless “Lan Zhan?”
“Mn.”
“Is it already… Hey! A-Yuan, don’t go into Wen Ning’s room, what did I just-”
Wei Ying’s voice disappears, but Lan Wangji doesn’t hear the buzzing sound that tells him he can open the door. He waits about a minute, pressing against the door handle, just in case, before he rings the bell again.
“Shit, sorry! Come up!”
Lan Wangji climbs the stairs eagerly this time and Wei Wuxian awaits him in the door, looking dishevelled and out of breath again, but in a decidedly more exhausted way.
“Sorry, we still need a moment. Things have been a bit chaotic, well, I guess it’s been a normal day, but Wen Ning is not here today and A-Yuan is just very excited and I didn’t get much sleep and-”
“Can I come in?”
“Ah, yes, of course. Sorry, sorry.” Wei Ying steps back to let Lan Wangji in and then casually takes off his slippers, so Lan Wangji can put them on instead.
“Can I help?” Lan Wangji would really like to do something to take away some of Wei Ying’s stress. He’s never seen him this agitated before. Did something happen or is this really just normal daily chaos?
“Oh, thank you. Maybe your presence will already be enough.” Wei Ying turns around and then yells so suddenly, Lan Wangji winces. “A-Yuan! Lan Zhan is here! If you want to go to the forest playground with him, we need to put on sunscreen!”
Wei Ying disappears into the living room and Lan Wangji follows him, after taking off his shoes.
He finds Wei Ying sitting on the floor, a bottle of sunscreen in hand, looking exasperated, while A-Yuan runs around the coffee table. When he spots Lan Wangji, he runs up to him, targeting his legs again but Lan Wangji, determined to help out, takes him in his arms instead and then sits down next to Wei Ying, A-Yuan on his lap.
“Hello, A-Yuan.”
“Tall-gege! Forest now!”
“Yes. But I heard you still need to put on sunscreen.”
“Yes!” A-Yuan giggles and then holds his arms out to Wei Ying, suddenly the perfect picture of a well-behaved child.
“Unbelievable.” Wei Ying shakes his hand and then begins slathering lotion on A-Yuan’s arms, legs and his face. ”Lan Zhan, you’ll have to come by and help every day.”
“Alright.” He’d love that. Wei Ying only laughs about this. So far his plan to make Wei Ying understand how serious Lan Wangji is about all of this isn’t working out too well. But there’s still plenty of time to try.
“Tall-gege too!” A-Yuan proclaims, after he’s fully protected from the sun. He hops off Lan Wangji’s lap, goes over to Wei Ying, and tries to grab the sunscreen bottle.
“Haha, I’m sure Lan Zhan already put on sunscreen at home.”
“Could use more.” He holds his arms out towards Wei Ying, who stares at his arms as though he’s never seen them before. Lan Wangji clears his throat and pointedly looks at the sunscreen.
Wei Ying huffs a laugh and then bites his lip while focusing on Lan Wangji with glinting eyes. His smile isn’t quite dangerous levels of wicked yet, but it must only be a matter of time. Oh well. Lan Wangji can handle it.
Wei Wuxian gently applies sunscreen, making sure to keep up eye contact with Lan Wangji the entire time. Carefully, so as to not miss a spot. Spending a lot of time on his biceps, even though most of them are covered by the sleeves of his shirt.
“A-Yuan, does tall-gege need sunscreen on his face too?” The smile is at maximum wickedness now.
“Yes!”
Wei Ying puts a dollop of sunscreen on both of his cheeks, his forehead and the tip of his nose. Lan Wangji hopes he’s not flushing.
“Lan Zhan, close your eyes.” Wei Ying’s voice is low and smooth and he must indeed be a good spellcaster, because Lan Wangji obediently closes his eyes.
Wei Ying smoothes his fingers over Lan Wangji’s face until he’s spread all of the sunscreen and Lan Wangji keeps his eyes closed until the very end, enjoying the gentle touches, when Wei Ying pinches his nose and proclaims Lan Wangji is “all lotioned up”.
While Wei Ying runs around, collecting the things he wants to pack for their outing, Lan Wangji plays with A-Yuan. Or rather, he sits on the carpet next to A-Yuan, who is doing a 20-piece puzzle and refusing any help.
“Ah, dammit, I still need to pack some snacks, cut some apples… sorry, Lan Zhan, I need a few more minutes, but -”
“I brought food, Wei Ying. It should be enough.” In fact, it is probably too much, but Lan Wangji is glad about that now.
“You did? Of course you did. Ah, Lan Zhan, you really need to stop being so…” But Wei Wuxian shakes his head and disappears into the bathroom, before telling Lan Wangji what it is he needs to stop being. Is he preparing too much? Is it overbearing? Or is it an instance of Wei Ying going “Lan Zhan, you’re too cute, I can’t take it”? He hopes it was the latter.
During the drive, Wei Ying is much calmer and seems to have re-found his bearings a bit. Maybe making Lan Wangji all flustered during the sunscreen application helped him. If that’s the case, Lan Wangji would happily offer himself up for such purposes again.
Wei Ying is so calm, he teases Lan Wangji for not going even a single mile above the speed limit.
“Wei Ying. The speed limit exists for a reason. And I would never drive recklessly with A-Yuan in the car.”
“Ah, you’re right, of course, he’s precious cargo.”
“Yes. Very precious.” And then he adds, because Lan Wangji is a man on a mission today after all, “Wei Ying, too.”
He can’t quite see Wei Ying’s reaction, because he’s focused on the road, but at least he doesn’t try to play it off with a joke this time. Instead he’s silent for a few minutes, before turning around and making faces at A-Yuan. Progress, maybe.
The playground, situated at the beginning of the hilly forest not far from the city, is indeed as lovely as Wei Ying had described. The trees provide welcome shade and the air is much fresher. There’s even a little stream flowing next to it; Wei Ying barely manages to hold A-Yuan long enough to put on his waterproof trousers and little rainboots, before he runs towards it.
While A-Yuan jumps up and down in the stream, splashing water everywhere, Wei Ying stretches and takes a deep breath.
“Mhm, I love coming here! So nice.”
“Mn.”
“Thank you for driving us, Lan Zhan.”
“My pleasure.”
They spend the next while helping A-Yuan construct a little dam in the stream. Both A-Yuan and Wei Ying seem to mostly enjoy piling stones up without putting any kind of real planning or thought into it. Lan Wangji crouches down next to them and carefully looks at the dam.
“We need pebbles and maybe some mud or foliage to really close up all the holes.”
A-Yuan is too busy dragging a large stone towards the water to listen to him, but Wei Ying looks up at him with the same delighted expression he gets whenever he realises Lan Wangji has made a joke.
“Lan Zhan… have you built lots of dams when you were a little boy? Are you an expert?”
“No.” Not that he can remember, anyway. “But it’s common sense.”
Lan Wangji takes fistfuls of sand and pebbles from the bottom of the stream and begins filling up the spaces between the larger stones. He does this for quite a while, trying hard to get the best possible result, before he notices that Wei Ying isn’t helping at all. Instead, Wei Ying is simply sitting on a stone, bare feet dangling in the water, staring at Lan Wangji.
“Wei Ying?”
“Continue, Lan Zhan. Just enjoying the view!”
If he were Wei Ying, he’d smirk and make sure to flex his arms now. Maybe undo a button or two. But he’s Lan Wangji.
“Wei Ying can look at me as long as he wants,” he simply says and goes back to proofing the dam. Hardly any water gets through anymore. A bit more foliage and it should hold up nicely.
“A-Yuan, come here.” Once he’s content with the outcome, Lan Wangji waves A-Yuan over, who has been watching leaves swim down the stream like little boats for the past few minutes. “The dam is finished.”
He hopes A-Yuan approves of Lan Wangji’s work.
“A-Yuan, look at what tall-gege did! So impressive! Woooow!” Wei Ying splashes water in their direction with his feet and claps his hands. A few drops land on Lan Wangji’s right arm, but he ignores it.
“Woooow!” A-Yuan repeats and also claps. Lan Wangji nods once, almost to himself. A job well done. And then… A-Yuan jumps into the water and… and… destroys the dam. Simply tears it apart with his feet like a tiny, adorable Godzilla with chubby cheeks. Laughing wildly while watching the water flow, now unrestrained, over his dinosaur-patterned rain boots.
Lan Wangji lifts his devastated gaze from the sad ruins of his dam to look at Wei Ying. Wei Ying, of course, is also laughing, but when he notices Lan Wangji’s look, he presses his lips together in an effort to suppress his laughter. Then he stands up and carefully wades through the shallow water until he’s standing next to Lan Wangji. He puts his hands on his hips and looks down at the carnage.
“Congratulations, Lan Zhan. A-Yuan has now fully accepted you into his life.”
“... Huh?”
“My little radish loves destroying things the adults in his life have lovingly built for him. Sort of a rite of passage, really. You should be proud.”
“Mm…”
Lan Wangji feels slightly mollified, but is not wholly convinced this is something to be happy about. Wei Ying crouches down and puts his hand on Lan Wangji’s knee, either to help balance himself or to console Lan Wangji.
“Lan Zhan, are you upset?”
“No.” That’d be ridiculous.
“It really doesn’t mean he didn’t like it, don’t worry. Look here…” Wei Ying pulls out his phone and shows Lan Wangji a picture he’s just taken of Lan Wangji and A-Yuan. A-Yuan is handing him a very good stone he’s just found and they’re both smiling. A-Yuan does look pretty happy. “Look how cute you two are.”
Even though his dam still lies in ruins before him, Lan Wangji feels a slight smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
“Ah, Lan Zhan, you’ve worked so hard, your hands are all dirty,” Wei Ying exclaims. Then he gently wraps his fingers around Lan Wangji’s wrist and drags his arm down, so he can wash Lan Wangji’s hand in the stream. He repeats the same thing with his other arm, until both his hands are free from mud and sand.
Lan Wangji happily lets him. Between this and the sunscreen, he now knows that he really likes when Wei Ying takes care of him. He also likes it when Wei Ying flirts with him at the same time, even if it flusters him, but this… Wei Ying reaching for him without a second thought… It means a lot to him and he can’t even fully put into words why. He only knows he always has the urge to take care of Wei Ying, to help him out and brighten his day in little ways. Now he knows he also likes to be on the receiving end.
Afterwards, they spend some time on the actual playground. A-Yuan explores the long slide and the swings and even the little climbing wall. The last part is very terrifying to witness - at least for Lan Wangji, Wei Ying seems unperturbed. To his relief, A-Yuan eventually settles on digging a deep hole into the sand.
“Lan Zhan, catch!” Wei Ying suddenly throws a pine cone at him. Lan Wangji catches it easily and then frowns, waiting for an explanation.
“And now you throw it back to me, and I throw it back to you, and so on, and so on…”
“Why?”
“Because I didn’t bring a ball!”
As if that explained anything. Lan Wangji decides not to question it further and throws the pine cone back at Wei Ying.
They continue this for several minutes, while Wei Ying tells him all about the convoluted plot of a TV show he watched last night, staying up way too late. It’s enjoyable, despite the questionable science behind the zombies, though Lan Wangji still doesn’t see the need for the pine cone. At some point, Wei Wuxian’s troublesome smile appears; Lan Wangji thinks it’s really nice he always gets this warning, so he can prepare himself. This time, it’s sadly not followed by flirting. Instead, Wei Ying simply throws the pine cone a little harder. Lan Wangji, not to be outdone, replies in kind and even increases the throwing speed. It’s… silly, but as expected, Wei Ying is delighted that Lan Wangji indulges his silliness. Their game gradually grows in intensity, until the pine cone flies at alarming speed from one to the other.
Until…
“Hey, look! A squirrel!”
and
“Wei Ying!”
and
THUD!
and
“Ow.”
The pine cone hit Wei Ying’s face, hard. Lan Wangji has thrown a pine cone with concerning speed at Wei Ying’s face. For a moment, the world stops, while the blood drains from Lan Wangji’s face. What has he done?
Wei Ying groans and puts one hand over his left eye, obviously in pain.
“Wei Ying!”
Lan Wangji rushes over and tries to assess the damage through Wei Ying’s slightly spread fingers.
“Wei Ying! Are you alright?”
Lan Wangji lifts a shaking hand, but then realises he doesn’t know what to do with it. He doesn’t want to accidentally hurt Wei Ying even more.
Wei Ying lowers his hand again, looks up at Lan Wangji and smiles. His left eye is definitely more watery than the right and Lan Wangji is pretty sure there’s a reddened mark over his cheekbone where the pine cone must have hit him, but Wei Ying is still grinning at him.
“All good, Lan Zhan!” Wei Ying tilts his head slightly to the right and is he really going to flirt with him now? Is he really using that smile? “Mhm, your throw packs quite the punch. Must be because of all those strong muscles.” And then he winks - though it must’ve hurt, because he flinches slightly after. Unbelievable.
Lan Wangji takes Wei Ying’s face in his hands after all, gently tilting his head from left to right and back, to check for scrapes or bruises. It’s hard to tell whether the red mark is there for real or just a manifestation of Lan Wangji’s panic.
“I’m so sorry. I… I hurt you.”
“Lan Zhaaaan, I’m fine! There isn’t even any blood!”
“It still hurt.”
Lan Wangji’s hands are still on Wei Ying’s face and Wei Ying’s is slightly tilted back, so he looks up at him. If Lan Wangji were to bend down a little, he could… Not the moment for these thoughts! But he can’t help it. He keeps staring at Wei Ying and strokes a thumb over Wei Ying’s uninjured cheekbone. Wei Ying smiles up at him and Lan Wangji can’t tell for sure whether this one means trouble for him.
“Mhm, maybe it does hurt a little.” And then Wei Ying quickly adds, “Will you kiss it better?”
Definitely trouble.
“... Would that help?”
It seems maybe Wei Ying had expected him to become all flustered again and to move away. He seems stunned by the fact that instead, Lan Wangji tightens his hold on Wei Ying’s face and that his gaze falls on Wei Ying’s lips. Wei Ying must not know how much time Lan Wangji spends thinking about kissing him.
“Uhm… I… yes? If you… I mean…” Wei Ying stutters eloquently.
“Would it help you feel better?” Lan Wangji’s face has moved closer to Wei Ying’s face without him noticing.
“Oh… yes.” Wei Ying sounds breathless, which is good to hear, because Lan Wangji’s lungs seem to have trouble finding air as well.
“A Get Well spell?”
From this close, Lan Wangji has the privilege of seeing the beautiful flush on Wei Ying’s face, and his dark, long lashes, and his slightly parted lips.
“Lan Zhan…” Wei Ying closes his eyes and tilts his head back a little further. Waiting…
Lan Wangji’s heart is surely this close to bursting, but so be it.
He presses a kiss to Wei Ying’s right cheekbone, next to his own thumb. Then another kiss to his left cheekbone, where the pine cone hit him. Wei Ying’s skin is soft and warm under his lips, and Lan Wangji thinks he could spend all of his day doing this.
“Feel better, Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji whispers, not daring to speak louder, lest it break the beauty of this moment.
Wei Ying’s eyelids flutter a few times, before he slowly opens his eyes. Then he hums under his breath, a sound of utter contentment, and puts his right hand over Lan Wangji’s.
Lan Wangji freezes. His brain has caught up with his actions and he can’t… he can’t do these things, when he’s thinking about them. He wants to collect and give more kisses, but is this the right moment? Does Wei Ying want that? A hug to bring the moment to a close? A-Yuan is also still around and -
“Mhm, thank you.” Wei Ying’s smile is warm and understanding. He squeezes Lan Wangji’s hand and then takes a step back. Lan Wangji lets go of Wei Ying’s face and straightens his back. “I feel much better now, Lan Zhan.”
Wei Ying’s smile deepens for a second as he looks at him and then he turns around and yells: “Who wants snacks?”
A-Yuan replies with lots of enthusiasm. Lan Wangji is grateful that for the next few minutes he can solely focus on unpacking the food he brought and eating it, without having to scrutinise his actions.
Despite all his flirting, Wei Ying never pushes Lan Wangji further than he wants to go, somehow always knows when to pull back and give him space. He can’t believe he got this lucky to find someone who understands the things Lan Wangji can’t express in words.
Now, if Wei Ying would only fully take to heart the things Lan Wangji does say… But he’ll return Wei Ying’s patience, it’s the least he can do.
Thankfully, the afternoon passes without any further pine cone related accidents and is only filled with lots of laughter from Wei Ying and A-Yuan.
Somehow, Lan Wangji gets invited to eat dinner with them. Somehow, Lan Wangji ends up cooking for them. Somehow, when A-Yuan is ready for sleep and his bedtime story, he takes Lan Wangji’s hand and makes him follow him. And somehow, the three of them (and Yuyu the radish) all end up in Wei Ying’s bed, A-Yuan in the middle. A-Yuan is still holding Lan Wangji’s hand and together they listen to Wei Ying recount the adventures Apple the donkey and Grrraw got up to in A-Yuan’s absence. Apparently, they broke out of some kind of space jail. Impressive.
It’s quiet except for the low murmur of Wei Ying’s voice. Lan Wangji feels warm and happy and he doesn’t want to miss any of these slow-moving moments, but if he were to fall asleep now, he’d have the happiest dreams. He can’t help but close his eyes, just for a second…
He wakes up to the feeling of Wei Ying’s knuckles softly stroking his cheek.
Lan Wangji blinks once, twice, and wonders whether this might be a dream. A-Yuan is gone and Wei Ying is sitting on the edge of the bed instead of lying down. And he’s wearing an expression Lan Wangji has never seen before. Almost… as if he wants to cry?
“Lan Zhan, wake up.”
Lan Wangji blinks again and the expression is gone. Wei Ying is still stroking his cheek.
“What time is it?”
“Don’t worry, you didn’t sleep long. It’s a few minutes past eight.”
Lan Wangji awkwardly sits up and pulls the blanket off of his legs. Wei Ying stops stroking his cheek but instead begins smoothing Lan Wangji’s hair that must look a mess. Lan Wangji really likes this, but is also slightly embarrassed he fell asleep so quickly.
“Lan Zhan, are you very tired? Do you want to sleep here? I can take the couch, Wen Qing is not coming home today.”
Sleeping in Wei Ying’s bed and seeing him first thing in the morning sounds wonderful, but… Lan Wangji has none of the things he needs for the night or the next day… He needs to go to the library early and really work on his paper, because…
“Wei Ying! What day is it?”
“Huh? Wednesday… I think?”
“Oh no! I… I forgot… My paper, I have to hand it in on Tuesday and… “
Lan Wangji quickly gets up and straightens his clothes, which might be a bit of a lost cause.
“I’m sorry. I should go home and make a schedule for the next few days, I have so much to do.”
“That’s okay, Lan Zhan, totally relatable! But it’ll be okay!” Wei Ying stands up too and gives Lan Wangji an encouraging pat on his arm. “A few marathon sessions at the library and one or two night shifts and it’ll be done, I’m sure. I can help, too! I could proofread for you or maybe bring lunch this time... “
“No. Thank you. I think it would be better if I did this at home, alone. Wei Ying is…” Lan Wangji has trouble remembering that other things in his life are important too, when Wei Ying is around.
“... distracting. Heh. Yeah, I know.” Wei Ying laughs and turns around before Lan Wangji can search his face for the disappointment he thought he heard. “Lan Zhan, come on! You should go home, sleep well and then get to work first thing in the morning.”
Lan Wangji follows Wei Ying through the flat, collects his things, puts on his shoes and then hesitates when it’s time to say goodbye. He doesn’t want to end this day like… this.
“Wei Ying. I’m sorry.”
“What for?” Wei Ying still seems a little off somehow. He’s looking at Lan Wangji’s face but not meeting his eyes.
“Not being able to see you.”
“Lan Zhan…” Wei Ying huffs a laugh and then cocks his head. “Only a few days. Hurry and finish your paper, and we’ll do something nice to celebrate once you’re done.”
“Yes, I would like that.”
Wei Ying gently turns him around and pushes him towards the door. Lan Wangji already has one foot in the hallway, when he turns around again.
“Did you forget something?”
“Mn.”
“What is it?”
“May I have…” Lan Wangji clears his throat and awkwardly points towards his face, hoping Wei Ying will understand.
“Huh? … Oh! Dream Spell?”
“... Mm.”
“Stop being so fucking cute.” Wei Ying laughs - finally, nothing about his mood feels weird or off anymore - grabs Lan Wangji’s face and delivers four sweet kisses. And then does it again, much quicker, cheeks, forehead, tip of his nose. “Since we won’t see each other for a while. Sweet dreams, Lan Zhan.”
“Sweet dreams, Wei Ying.”
“Now go, before I keep you here.”
And then Wei Ying waves, grins and closes the door.
Lan Wangji wouldn’t mind being kept here by Wei Ying, but he does need to write his paper. At least he has very strong motivation to finish it quickly.
Lan Wangji
Thank you for the lovely afternoon.
Wei Ying
That’s sweet but go to bed!
Lan Zhan must rest, so he can work tomorrow!
Lan Wangji
Yes.
Can you send me the picture of A-Yuan and me?
And my dam.
Wei Ying
Ahahaha
RIP dam!
A short but beautiful existence!!!
Gone but never forgotten!
There you go
Lan Wangji
Thank you.
It’s a very nice picture.
Wei Ying
Because you’re both cuties.
Now go sleep.
Lan Wangji
Good night.
Wei Ying
❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤
#the untamed#cql#mdzs#wangxian#lan wangji/wei wuxian#lan wangji#wei wuxian#modern au#FLUFF#SWEETNESS#betty drabbles#To Meet You verse
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Hearts and Hotels (Part 1)
Just a one shot I wrote over the past 5 days when I had no Internet on vacation
Part 2 here!
Words: 3495
~~~~
There was a lot that Cyrus was thinking as his parents checked into their hotel. How tired the long journey had made him, how inviting the food looked, how homely the place felt. But all of it felt dull to him. He could care less about the journey, the food and the ambience. It was all irrelevant.
His friends were probably all having fun without him, he thought to himself while pulling his suitcase out of the trunk. And they probably already forgot about him.
“Cyrus, honey,” his mom said, giving him a sympathetic smile. “I know you miss your friends already, but please try and have fun.” She gave him a kiss on the head and proceeded to go into the dining hall for lunch.
Cyrus groaned, following her. He wanted to argue that he wasn't hungry, but his stomach vehemently disagreed. As he walked into the hall, he noticed the long line of dishes arranged, surrounded by the tables. Of course, a buffet. Human interaction. Super.
Cyrus plonked himself onto a seat, pulling out his phone for a momentary distraction. Opening Instagram, he already saw stories from Buffy, Andi and Jonah from Adrenaline City, where they were trying the new rides. A pang of sadness hit Cyrus’ heart. He was grateful for his parents taking him on vacation, but he had wanted nothing more than to be with his friends. And that clearly wasn't happening. At least it's just a week. Cyrus put back his phone and looked around the hall for nothing in particular.
And that's when he saw him.
The boy looked no older that Cyrus, although definitely taller. His hair was blonde and he was wearing a grey camouflage hoodie and blue cuffed jeans. His hair was swept back, definitely gelled. From the way he walked, he was confident and sure of himself. He was walking with a blonde-haired girl who looked about his age too, maybe a year older. They were laughing about something as they headed to the buffet spread.
Cyrus felt his breath catch and he couldn't stop staring at the boy. No lie, he was good-looking. But something in him told him that it wasn't the only reason he was staring. Something in him told him that the boy was something more.
Just then, the boy turned Cyrus’ way and caught his eye. Embarrassed, Cyrus wanted to look away but, try as he might, he only managed a slight turn. The boy looked back at Cyrus, giving him a warm smile in return. And Cyrus swore that he felt his heart melt with that smile. He smiled back a weak smile, incapable of any coherent thought when looking at the boy.
Huh. Maybe it wouldn't be such a bad week.
*
Okay, he was already wrong. It was already a disaster.
Cyrus soon learned that the spot of service he got in the dining hall was all he would get that week, as in all other parts of the hotel there was no Internet. And no WiFi. So even if he wanted to talk to his friends, he couldn't. Cyrus huffed in annoyance, throwing his phone onto the bed. It doesn't even matter, it's not like his friends were constantly contacting him. Cyrus was really trying to not think these thoughts, but it was no use. His brain provided him with a constant flow of self-hatred to keep his thoughts occupied.
Well, he might as well find a way to keep himself busy. His parents had plans to go sightseeing for 2 days, but that still left about 5 days of nothingness to be spent at the hotel of doom. Okay, not ‘doom’ but Cyrus couldn't help but feel dramatic. The boredom was already getting to him. He walked out of the room and went down the hall, finding the lobby of the hotel. To his right was the dining hall, not useful at the moment. However, slightly to the left there was a room where there seemed to be some people. Curious, Cyrus walked ahead and opened the door. There he saw the sign ‘Common Room’.
Oh. It was that kind of hotel. It was probably a place where all guests could just sit around, read, play games or drink. Normally, that would be the last place Cyrus would be found. But desperate times called for desperate measures. Plus, they had a decent collection of books so all was not lost.
Sighing to himself, Cyrus made his way to the bookshelf, running his hand along the spines of the various books as he surveyed his choices. No matter where he was, he could somehow always find comfort in books, in their feel, smell and their words. Cyrus let his thoughts run for a while as he absent-mindedly walked along until he found a book that seemed interesting. He reached to pull it out when a hand brushed against his, reaching for the same book. Startled out of his thoughts, Cyrus stopped to look up at the person, to meet green eyes.
It was the same boy, the one from the dining hall. The one who Cyrus had been staring at until he was caught. And now he was right in front of him.
He's even cuter up close, Cyrus’ mind offered in an unhelpful manner. The boy looked equally as surprised as Cyrus, his lips quirked up in a small smile. Cyrus gulped, trying desperately to think of something to say but the fact that their hands were resting together on the book was too distracting for Cyrus to say anything. It also didn't help that his brain was just playing HE HAS FRECKLES on repeat.
“Um, I'm,” Cyrus stammered, trying to say something before his heart exploded when his mother called him from the door of the room. Cyrus blushed and mumbled an apology, and walked away quickly, making a clear effort to avoid the boys eyes.
Cyrus may have been mistaken, but he swore he heard the boy sigh quietly before he walked away.
This was getting weirder and weirder.
*
Why is thunder a thing, Cyrus thought to himself as the sound sent a shudder through his body from where he was curled up on a chair in the common room. The storm had been going on for over an hour, and it was showing no signs of letting up any time soon. With the storm, the power had also gone, plunging the hotel in darkness. Cyrus had been quietly reading in the common room after he and his parents had returned from sightseeing that day when the power went, leaving him surrounded by darkness and strangers. Thankfully, the other guests in the room with him seemed like kind people who were also slightly terrified. Within 10 minutes of the power going, some candles had been lit and quiet conversation ensued, interrupted by flashes of lightning and cracking of thunder. The candle next to Cyrus flickered faintly.
“Not a fan of storms?”
Cyrus looked away from the window in the direction of the voice and was surprised. The boy he had embarrassed himself in front of twice was standing next to him, smiling down at him. For a moment, Cyrus wanted nothing more than for the world to open up and swallow him whole before he made more of a fool of himself. But, sensing no escape, he just gave a soft emotionless laugh.
“Almost as big a fan as of human interaction.” Honestly, by now, self deprecation was no longer just a strategy, it was a lifestyle.
The boy laughed at that, and Cyrus couldn't help but feel his heart do a somersault. His laugh alone could have lit up the hotel.
“Mind if I join you?” the boy asked.
Cyrus shrugged compliantly, motioning to the seat next to him. The boy smiled and sat down, looking back at Cyrus. He noticed that in the candlelight, the boy’ eyes looked even more mysterious, and the lighting was doing wonders for his features. Not that they needed it.
They sat for a bit in silence, neither knowing what to say. After a while, the boy pointed at the book Cyrus was reading and said, “How's the book?”
Cyrus looked down and realised that it was the same book that had lead to the incident the previous morning with the boy. He blushed, relieved that the light was so low that he couldn't see it. “Its quite good. Not like any other books I've read.”
“I've wanted to read it for a while, but I didn't think anyone else would be interested in something like it. Least of all someone as attractive as you.”
Cyrus choked on air at that, trying to pass it off as a cough. The boy thought he was cute?!?! “So, are you saying that just because I'm cute, I wouldn't read this?” Cyrus replied, a burst of confidence shining through.
The boy looked flustered, immediately trying to correct himself. “No, no! That's not what I meant! I just meant that I've never been lucky enough to meet someone as cute as you who liked something like this,” the boy said, looking down, away from Cyrus.
He's interesting when flustered, Cyrus thought smiling to himself. He didn't expect to so immediately bond with someone, especially with someone like this boy in front of him.
“I'm Cyrus, by the way,” Cyrus said, holding out his hand.
“TJ,” the boy said, shaking his hand with a smile. They stayed like that for a moment, neither wanting to draw their hand away.
Just then, another crack of thunder caused Cyrus to jump back, crawling further into his seat. TJ smiled a bit, but he also looked concerned. “Are you okay, Cyrus?”
“Yeah, yeah. Just. Thunder isn't my favourite.”
“Hey,” TJ said, making Cyrus look at him. “Don't focus on the storm then. Just, keeping talking to me.”
“About what?”
“Anything. Nothing. It doesn't matter. Just talk and I'll listen,” TJ said, leaning forward, resting his head on his hand.
“I'll bore you,” Cyrus said, turning away. He didn't want to kill TJ of boredom and nd disinterest.
“I don't know, Cyrus. I've only known you for 2 minutes, and I already find that hard to believe.”
*
“Wait, what? I'm sorry I can't believe that,” TJ said, laughing to what Cyrus said.
“I'm serious! Further proof why I should just remain wrapped in bubble wrap in bed,” Cyrus said, also smiling. Recounting his most embarrassing moments should have been just that: embarrassing. But somehow, with TJ there just laughing along light-heartedly, Cyrus didn't feel so bad. He even forgot about his friends having fun without him. He was having a decent time too.
In the moment of silence that followed, Cyrus opened his phone to check the time. 8:19 pm. Suddenly, he heard TJ gasp.
“Hey! I recognise that girl!” TJ was pointing to Cyrus’ phone screen, which was a picture of him, Buffy, Andi and Jonah. Specifically, he was pointing to Buffy.
“Oh, that's Buffy Driscoll. She's my best friend. How do you know her?” Cyrus asked, confused.
“I don't know. Is she like, a sportsperson?”
“Yeah, she's the captain of our girls’ basketball team, the Spikes I think.”
On saying the team name, TJ's head perked up, and he looked at Cyrus in bewilderment. “From Jefferson Middle School?”
“Yeah,” Cyrus said, even more confused.
“I've seen her play! She beat our team last month,” TJ said, the last part albeit ruefully.
“Wait, how? That's not possible unless,” Cyrus started, trailing off when the realisation hit him. He looked at TJ who looked as excited and surprised as him.
“You live in Shadyside!” the two yelled simultaneously, causing conversation in the common room to stop as all the guests turned to stare at the source of the noise. But the two couldn't care less.
“Wait, which school do you go to? I've never seen you at Jefferson,” Cyrus said, sitting up in excitement. All this time, TJ has lived in the same town as him.
“I go to Salt Lake,” TJ replied, also sitting up.
“Wow! Can you imagine the odds?” TJ said after a moment.
“I know, I meet a cute guy and then find out he lives in my city. Wild,” Cyrus said, feeling slightly bold in that moment.
Now it was TJ's turn to become a blushing, fumbling mess at Cyrus’ words. He giggled and looked at his shoes, making Cyrus lose his mind.
They both laughed quietly for a while, the candle illuminating their smiles. When they went quiet, Cyrus was suddenly aware of how close he and TJ were. It should have been weird, they had only talked for the first time an hour or so ago. But it wasn't.
The silent tension between them grew, as they both looked into each other’s eyes, unsure of what to do. Just as it was reaching a head, the lights came on in the hotel to the jubilant cheers of all the guests. Cyrus and TJ jumped apart, the candle blowing out in the process.
Now with the lights back on, Cyrus didn't feel as brave and nd confident anymore. Somehow it had been easier to talk to TJ in the near darkness. He looked timidly across at TJ who was looking around the room. TJ turned and smiled at Cyrus, in that warm way that was making his knees weaker and weaker.
“The lights are back.”
“So it seems.”
“Does that mean you have to go?” TJ asked, seeming hesitant for the first time that evening.
Cyrus was surprised. It was almost as if TJ didn't want him to go? There has got to be some mistake with that. But in that moment, looking at TJ nervously pulling at his hoodie sleeve, Cyrus knew he was being genuine. He smiled at TJ and reached over, taking hold of the hand pulling his sleeve, causing the boy to look up at him.
“I'm not going anywhere.”
*
TJ: hey u up
Cyrus: why??
TJ: wats ur room no
Cyrus: tj…
Cyrus laughed as quietly as he could, trying not to wake his parents in the next room. He was sharing a suite with them, thankfully having his own room. But that didn't mean the walls were soundproof.
TJ: fine just come to the garden in 10
This is not going to end well, Cyrus thought to himself as he pulled on a hoodie and opened the room door as quietly as he could, after slipping on some shoes. But, they had been sightseeing that whole day and his parents were exhausted, so they wouldn't wake uo for anything. He crept as silently as he could down the hall, although he knew that guests roaming about at 1 am wasn't unusual for hotels. He was just a nervous person.
TJ was already at the garden, holding a torch. He smiled as soon as he saw Cyrus, waving at him excitedly.
This boy was going to be the death of him, Cyrus thought as he jogged up to him. All the lights were switched off, leaving the garden in darkness except for the torch.
“You're insane, TJ,” Cyrus whispered, unable to keep his smile hidden.
“Come on, Cy. I haven't seen you in 2 days cuz you guys keep going out!” TJ whispered back, grabbing Cyrus’ hand as he pulled him to the centre of the garden.
“So this better be worth me sneaking out then.”
“Do you trust me?”
“I saw you for the first time 5 days ago!”
“That doesn't answer my question,” TJ said, looking slyly at Cyrus.
Cyrus glared at him, but he knew the answer. It didn't matter how long ago he had met TJ. He would trust him with his life.
“I knew it,” TJ said triumphantly, pulling Cyrus down to the grass where he lay down, looking at the sky.
The sky was gorgeous. All the stars looked like glitter that had been spread over a black cloth. The moon was full, showering the garden with a soft white light. Cyrus couldn't hold back a gasp, as he lay down beside TJ. He looked over to see TJ looking at him, smiling.
“Worth it, Cyrus?”
“Yes, of course!” Cyrus exclaimed, looking back at the sky in excitement.
TJ and Cyrus spent the next half an hour just naming constellations, sharing jokes and stories and just unifying each other’s company. All the while, their hands remained clasped together between them, their fingers threaded together. Cyrus thought back to the first time he and TJ had brushed hands, that day in the common room. That time it had sent his brain in a whirl. But now, his hand holding TJ's, it felt normal, grounding even.
“God, I love the sky,” TJ whispered, looking over at Cyrus.
“Me too,” Cyrus said, looking at TJ. In doing so, their noses bumped together.
They lay like that for a while, both looking at each other, unable to look away. Cyrus was nervous. He didn't know what TJ was feeling at the moment, but Cyrus realised he wanted nothing more than to close the gap between them. But he was holding himself back. TJ will be weirder out and he will leave. That thought was what made Cyrus back away a bit.
But before he could move away, TJ reached over and cupped Cyrus’ cheek with his hand, gulping nervously.
“Is this okay?” he asked.
Cyrus couldn't bring himself to say anything, just nodding in response. He leaned into TJ’s hand.
They were so close.
TJ began leaning in slowly, and Cyrus started doing the same. Finally, after several long moments of just leaning in, Cyrus pressed their lips together, pulling TJ in for a kiss. It was short, but perfect. The moonlight and the starry sky were the perfect backdrop. But Cyrus pulled away fast, still nervous.
“What happened? Should I not have done that?” TJ asked, worried.
“What? No no! That's not a problem at all,” Cyrus said, reassuring him.
“That what is it?”
“Its just. This is really fast. I kinda just wanna, slow down? I wanna get to know you first. Is that okay?”
At that TJ smiled and laughed quietly, moving his hand from Cyrus’ cheek to hold his hand.
“Slow is wonderful, Cyrus.”
They lay there for what seemed like forever, just talking in low voices, pointing out the stars until they had to return to their rooms lest their parents find them missing.
As Cyrus watched TJ walk away from his door, he saw the boy looked back at him, his customary smile on his face.
And Cyrus thought to himself, slow will be perfect.
*
This week went by too fast, Cyrus thought to himself as he loaded his suitcase back into the trunk. He laughed a bit, remembering how he had grumbled when he first reached there a week ago. Seemed like forever ago. He hadn't even met TJ then.
TJ. They were going to have to say goodbye soon. Luckily it wouldn't be too long, after all, they lived in the same town. They'd see each other again.
They had spent the rest of the days just roaming the hotel together, playing board games in the common room, sharing ice creams by the pool and meeting in the garden every night. They were just getting to know each other first, but their feelings were there right under the surface, and they made no efforts to hide them. But they were taking things slow. And it was going great.
But Cyrus was worried. He had the nasty feeling that this relationship with TJ would fall through the moment they left the hotel. All this while, their moments had been etched into those walls. Who was to say that they wouldn't fade away when they returned? What if he no longer felt brave?
“So I guess this is goodbye?”
Cyrus turned around to see TJ standing by the door, smiling but his eyes were sad.
“For now.”
“Good thing we both live in Shadyside, huh?”
Cyrus looked away from TJ at that, wringing his hands.
“Hey, what's wrong?” TJ asked, holding Cyrus’ chin.
“Will we still be, you know, us?” Cyrus asked softly. “When we go back?"
TJ wrapped his arms around Cyrus, pulling him in for a hug. “Of course we will be. Why would you think we wouldn't?”
“What if things change?”
“Things are going to change. Doesn't mean we should be scared of it.”
“What if I'm no longer brave?” Cyrus asked, looking down.
“Then I'll still be right here. I promise.”
They stayed like that, arms wrapped around each other, until Cyrus’ dad called him to go. Reluctantly, Cyrus pulled himself away from TJ, leaning in to give him a kiss on the cheek.
“Cyrus?”
“Yes?”
“See you later, alligator.”
Cyrus laughed at the cliché choice of a goodbye, but felt his heavy heart lighten a bit.
“In a while, crocodile.”
~~~~~~~~~~~
I'm sorry this is bad lol I am not used to writing fluff
( Also hi I wanna dedicate this to sarah { @heart-eyes-kippen } mostly cuz I need to tell her that I fINALLY WROTE JUST FLUFF) (but mostly cuz I love her she is splendid and incredible and amazing and ALL OF YOU SHOULD GO READ SWINGSETS AND DANCE ROUTINES OR ELSE YOU HAVEN'T LIVED)
#andi mack#tyrus#cyrus goodman#tj kippen#tyrus fanfic#my fic#tyrus fanfiction#tj x cyrus#tyrus one shot#tyrus fluff
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It Consumes Me
A BTS/Kim Namjoon Fanfiction
Summary: The minute he laid eyes on her he knew she was the one. But love is a battle of the mind and the heart, and when the voices in your head start winning, how can your heart possibly compete with a choice that consumed you before the very start…
Type: Angst/Love
Disclaimer: This story contains strong themes. Should a chapter be potentially triggering, it will be stated beforehand.
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Watching Namjoon on stage was an experience you’d never forget in a million years.
You’d joked with him about it numerous times; how he was this huge star with all these screaming fans that called him ‘oppa’ and wanted to marry him…but seeing the reality of the situation and that your joke hadn’t been so far from the truth in the first place, had your mind being blown with each new song and each new dance the group performed.
The passion and skill with which you watched each guy move was mesmerizing, the sheer showmanship with which they’d perform and then shoot backstage, change into a new costume, have a brief moment to catch their breath before they either ran up onto the stage or were boosted up via a platform was enough to keep your jaw dropped for the entire two hours that they continued to dance and sing and entertain.
You were still drinking in the sight of the final stage, the confetti raining from the ceiling and the last few guys waving to the crying and screaming fans as they bow for the last time and exit the stage when Namjoon suddenly appears next to you, his arms quickly reaching for you and pulling you into a tight hug, the momentum of him lifting you from the chair you’d been sat in and spinning you around causing you to squeal and giggle as you grip tightly back to him, burying your face in his neck happily before you feel the drops of moisture coating his skin.
‘Ewww, Joonie, you’re all sweaty.’ You laugh, continuing to chuckle as he teasingly smooshes kisses to your face, littering a trail to your mouth until he claims your lips and you hear him sigh happily as he sets your feet back on the floor, securing his arms slightly more gently on your waist, the feel of his smile against your mouth causing a giddiness to bloom in your mind as you curl your fingers into the sweat dampened hair at the back of his neck.
‘Having you waiting for me when I got off stage might be the best thing ever.’ He huffs against your lips as he pulls away, his forehead leaning against yours showing how tired he was, but the grin he was sporting as he gently pushes your hair back behind your ear causes butterflies to riot in your stomach.
‘As long as you let me, I’ll always be happy to wait for you when you get off stage.’ You murmur cheesily, giggling when he squints his eyes at your cuteness, his bottom lip jutting out where he couldn’t contain himself, and the sight causes you to reach up and grab it so that you could pull his mouth back down for another quick kiss lost in the euphoria of him.
‘You make me so happy-‘
‘Y/N! You made it!’
The sound of Yoongi’s voice as it calls to you from down a side corridor has your heart clenching in your chest with anxiety, the confusion that accompanied the feeling gifting you with a subconscious frown which only becomes apparent when Yoongi comes to a stop before you and you feel Namjoon’s arm slip itself around your waist to offer comfort, the gentle squeeze of your hip calling your attention to him so that you look up to see the question about your response to his friend burning in his eyes.
‘Its okay.’ You whisper, more to convince yourself than to convince him, before you turn to address Yoongi.
‘When did you arrive? Did you manage to catch the concert?’ he asks politely, the smile he was sporting asking how you were after the talk you’d had with him last night, and despite the way you feel yourself shrink back inwards with the reminder of how you’d exposed yourself to him last night, the vulnerability being evident in the way your hands begin to shake, you force a smile onto your face as you reply.
‘Uh…yeah…I got here just before the concert. …i-uh…I needed to talk to Namjoon about something.’
The feeling of Namjoon touching his lips to the top of your head conflicts with the stare that Yoongi had you locked in, the silent question forcing you to give the tiniest nod back to confirm what he was thinking; you’d told Namjoon.
‘Oh, well then…what did you think of the concert?’ he asks, assuming a blasé attitude and you thank him with a small smile for not pressing you too much about what had happened, the change of topic instead helping to release the tension on your chest so that you can gush about how fun the whole experience was, and how you were blown away by the guys passion and effort with their work.
‘Awww, you sound like a fangirl, y/n.’ Jimin quips as he suddenly appears beside you, a towel slung around his shoulders where he was trying to contain the sweat that was dripping from his brow after the exertion he’d shown on stage, and despite his teasing you cant help but grin at him, subconsciously squeezing Namjoon’s side in your excitement where you had your arm wrapped around his waist.
‘Its no surprise that you have as many fans as you do though! You guys are really incredible!’ you insist, taking in the way each of them chuckles and grins at each other bashfully, before your little group is interrupted by Hoseok.
‘Hey guys! Food’s here. I’d hurry up before Jungkook eats it all.’
There’s a moment of pause as Jimin instantly jumps at Hoseok, the two of them beginning to race one another down the corridor, leaving Yoongi, Namjoon and yourself behind. You can feel both men’s eyes on you, the moment you look up at Yoongi revealing his contemplative look before he nods and walks away, leaving you with Namjoon…and the voice in your head.
‘They order in our favourite pizza and burgers whenever we finish a show. Jungkook gets cookies specially delivered for him too if you’d prefer.’ Namjoon explains in a gentle, quiet tone, hand squeezing your waist in reassurance as he awaits your answer.
And despite your entire body clenching in nausea and dislike, you cant help but follow the rhythmic thrum of your heart that was still floating on cloud nine after the concert, the organ seeming to reach toward Namjoon from within the constraints of your ribcage as you nod your head and flash him a smile, before beginning to pull him in the direction the others had gone.
‘Is that why his fans call him ‘Kookie’?’
-------------------------
NAMJOON
He couldn’t help it.
It had been the same since the very first day he’d seen her; he couldn’t take his eyes away from her.
As much as he could sense her slight discomfort at his gaze lying on her as she picked at the food he’d scrounged for her before the guys had torn the mini-buffet apart, for as many times as he managed to pluck his eyes from her to help her feel more comfortable, Namjoon found himself watching her once more, gaze as rose tinted as ever.
Without him noticing, his body had developed an even more desperate need to keep her close to him since their moment before the concert; his want to feel her against his side, to know that no-one could harm her causing him to be on hyper-alert despite being exhausted from the concert he’d just performed.
‘You’ve got dark circles under your eyes, Joonie.’
The gentle chime of her voice pulls him from his thoughts. When he looks down at the angel curled into his side the smile that graces his face is reflexive; as easy as breathing.
‘Have I?’ he murmurs, not really thinking about what he was saying as he allows his eyes to wander her face, to take in each curve and fell of her soft skin as though he hadn’t memorized it on the very first day that he’d seen her, throat constricting as his eyes glide over the dark circle hugging one brow.
The touch of her fingertips to his cheek pulls a happy sigh from his lips as she regards him, a tiny trough appearing between her eyebrows causing him to find her hand with his own so that he could hold her palm to his lips, planting a kiss soft enough to warm her skin, and to pull the glow from the depths of her eyes that he so enjoyed watching appear whenever he touched her, the sight distracting him from the anger creeping into his chest for her father.
‘I’m fine, beautiful. As long as you’re next to me, I will always be wide awake.’
He hadn’t meant for his words to sound so poetic, he thought maybe it was just the effect that she had on him. Yet as much as he’d expected her to cringe away from his soppiness, she seemed bewitched by him, the slight curve that appeared at the corner of her mouth being too delectable for him to resist stealing a kiss from.
‘As beautiful as that sounded, Joonie. I think the others may well be ready to go home, either that or they’re slowly turning into Zombies.’ She murmurs, grinning feverishly at him as her eyes direct his attention to the others, and he manages to drag his gaze from her momentarily to see the rest of his friends curled into their seats, most of them with their lids hanging low over their eyes, with the exception of Jungkook and Jin who were too busy battling each other on a mobile game they’re downloaded a few days before.
‘In which case I suppose we should begin packing up.’ He murmurs, drawing in a deep breath as he turns to look back at her, not being able to resist the smile that bloomed on his face in reaction to the sight of her angelic expression, dropping a kiss to her forehead, and one gently to her blackened eyelid, before pushing himself to his feet and offering his hand out to her.
‘Will you do me the honour of coming home with me, Beautiful?’ he asks cheesily, trying to lighten the mood after seeing the way her expression had grown clouded with concern over the concept of ‘returning home’. Her answering grin was something he wanted to imprint on the backs of his eyelids for the rest of time, until the image was replaced by her expression on the day he asked to marry her…
‘How could I ever say no to the offer of going home with Mr Kim Namjoon himself?’ she responds, squealing when she grabs his hand and he yanks her up and into his arms, grasping her surely so that his chest pressed closely to hers and he could peer down into the endless depths of her twinkling eyes, noting how the cautious creases that had always appeared at the edges of them had disappeared since her confession earlier.
‘Will you always tease me this way?’ he asks, feeling the way her hand trembles in his, but noting that alongside the giddy smile she was sporting, this must be a good thing.
He watched the way her eyes danced between his excitedly, her lip slowly getting sucked between her teeth, the sight driving him crazy and causing breath to gush in and out of his lungs just that little bit faster as he struggled to resist the urge to crush his lips against hers.
‘That depends on how long you plan to keep me around…’ she whispers, a hint of genuine fear in her voice, and that sound has him leaning closer to her, heart straining out of his chest, attempting to reach for her own, his lips barely a breath away from hers as he answers.
‘I don’t ever plan on letting you go, beautiful-‘
‘Uh…guys?...are you going to stand there all night, or are you coming home?’
-----------------------
You didn’t know what it was about him that caused your world to turn to brilliant colour, your blood to run exhiliratedly through your veins, or your skin to prickle in delight whenever he was near you…
…but you never wanted it to stop.
It was a comfortable feeling that bloomed in your chest as you followed the others through the door to the dorm, Namjoon’s hand settled comfortably on your waist as he shuffled in behind you, chuckling at some comment Jimin had made to him before the other guy had gone in to the apartment in front of you, the 6 of them dispersing into the caverns of comfort the place held for them.
‘So…after a concert I always like to sit in my room and listen to some music, but since you’re here I feel like we should do something more entertaining-‘
‘I think listening to music sounds…nice.’ You cut Namjoon off as the two of you continue shuffling towards his room, holding his gaze where it settled on yours, eyes holding mysteries in their depths, and a whimsical smirk growing on his face as you continue to pull him back through the doorway, coaxing him with your eyes.
‘Hmmm.’
He didn’t say anything else, quickly swooping in to drop a kiss to your lips without explanation, before turning to close the door, letting go of your hand as he drops both of your bags that he’d been carrying beside his desk. You watch him as he drops into the arms of his chair, focusing his gaze on the computer as he brings up some kind of music player and begins to search for something.
The sight of the calculating, intent look he was sporting called to you from across the room, intriguing you so much so that you end up quietly creeping over to him from your place on the bed, and gently moving his arms so that you could climb onto his lap, smiling shyly at him when you catch his eye as you look up, before turning your attention to the screen before you both.
‘What about this one?’ you ask the quiet room, becoming distracted by the feeling of his arm slipping around your waist and pulling you back securely against him, before hearing the sound of the mouse as he double clicks on the song you’d pointed out and you find yourself relaxing back into him as the dark, sad notes of the bass tumble into the dimly lit room through the speakers.
‘This is actually one of my favourite artists…the music they create makes it seem like you’re in the recording studio with them, you can feel the emotion behind the lyrics as if you wrote them yourself…it makes you feel…’
His deep voice in your ear coaxes you into closing your eyes as you let the song seep into your bones, settling your head into the crook of Namjoon’s neck so that your nose sat snug against his jawline, the smell of him filling your lungs so that it felt like all your world consisted of, was him.
You could feel yourself getting lost in the moment as the music built a little, keeping its fragile, yet gentle urgency and the sombre mood it held. The feeling of his shirt beneath your palm as you lay your hand on his chest has you subconsciously wanting more, your fingers creeping under of their own accord so that you could feel the taught muscles of his chest where they were only just beginning to slacken after the concert…
…or maybe they were coiling to spring in your presence.
The sound of his slow intake of breath as your skin touches his brings your attention to the way his fingers curl into your hip, the tips reaching, spanning just that little bit more so that they drifted lightly over the curve of your ass, the feeling sending electric currents straight to your chest, cheering for your heart to race faster.
Your actions built with the music, the album that he’d put on causing the urges to begin in a gentle lapping of the moment at first; your lips pressed to his jawline in kitten licks, his other hand slowly smoothing over the expanse of your thigh, the feeling of his hand wrapping around your knee to bring you more securely on to his lap gifting him a response of your hand smoothing around to gently hold the muscular column of his neck.
As the music crept toward the building of the story the album told so did your actions; your lips moved to fasten themselves to his, the feeling of his jaw cradled in your palm emphasizing the urge in the feeling of his mouth on yours. Your fingers knotting in the hair at the nape of his neck is accentuated by the way he pulls your legs around until you were straddling his lap, at which point his palms immediately come to cradle your bottom, fingers squeezing and kneading in time with the way you gently begin to rock your hips against his.
There was no time for you to be self-conscious about your body or your inability to keep rhythm before his hands began to guide you, grip caressing you needily, slowing your movements, teaching you how to create the most intense feeling to the point that you had to break away from the seal of his lips so that you could voice your gasp of pleasure, feeling your body thrum in time with the music as his lips cascaded down your neck, marking your skin with nothing but love and lust.
The second he nips at your collarbone you know you wouldn’t be able to resist him tonight… not that you ever wanted to.
Your slight tug at his hair is the only signal he needs to lift you from the chair with him, shuffling through the dark with you gripped fast before reclining you gently on the bed, body lingering above you as he crashes his lips back to yours with a renewed vigor.
The sound of a new track beginning gives way to the notes of your ragged breaths colliding with his, the whispering of fabric running over skin awakening your conscious to the way your heart rioted within your rib cage as his nimble fingers gently began to peel his jumper you were wearing from your torso. Instead of a gasp of fear, its your chuckle that echoes into the dimly lit room as the neckline of the garment gets stuck on your head, the romance of the moment colliding with your clumsy natures.
However, the second you manage to break the confines of the fabric and it is discarded onto the floor, the heat re-encapsulates your body, and you find yourself once more staring up into his eyes, gazing into the fire filled depths and feeling your body respond in kind.
Your fingers fumble at the buttons of his shirt as you watch one another, the feel of his hand gently clasping your trembling fingers halting you momentarily before he stretches up, torso elongating as he raises the garment over his head easily and throws it to join yours on the floor. The sound of a deep voice crooning into the room urges you to reach out to bring him back down to you, breath rushing over his lips as you both hesitate, searching one another’s expression and finding the same want and desire embedded into each other faces before your lips crash against one another. The feel of his hand running down your torso raises goosebumps in its wake and your fingers gripping onto his neck only encourages him as your body bucks, trying to draw itself closer to him.
The musicality of the moment embraces your frail body as much as Namjoon did; the feeling of his hands cradling your waist slowing his intent momentarily as he breaks from the kiss, breaths rushing over your lips as he peers down at you, eyes ablaze, shoulders taught with restraint.
‘I want you, y/n…I want all of you.’
It was a question, an inquiry…a hesitation; it was his way of asking if you wanted what he did.
The way he cradled your jaw with one hand, running his thumb over your bottom lip before you gently drew it into your mouth, holding the tip between your teeth, caused him to release a shaky breath, the effect you had on him making your mind run amuck with ideas.
But there was only one you wanted to voice to him in that moment.
‘I want you, Namjoon.’
Each place his hand touched erased all other thought; fingers smoothing over your collarbone left fire in their wake, the memory of the bruise that lay there becoming nothing but a dull unimportant whisper. His thighs brushing the backs of yours as he hovered over you drove tremors rolling up your spine, the ache of your bones after being forced back into a wall by your father being soothed by his palms as he pulled you tight against him, driving his skin into yours, erasing all thought of anything else.
As your lips cascade against his, rushing in whispered kisses and silenced sighs of need, his nimble fingers caress you, the feeling of him entering you causing you to choke on a breath, gripping him tight to keep him from moving away from you, before the pleasure of the feeling; of him being so close, completely encompassing you, has you dragging his mouth back down to yours, pleading for more.
------------
NAMJOON
Her presence was suffocating to him, coaxing him towards the gates to oblivion, but as much as Namjoon was only too ready to pass through, he couldn’t help but bask in the halls of light dancing with shadow that lay before.
The feeling of her beneath him, of finally seeing her splayed open for him, glory laid out like a buffet, to admire, to gape at, and to dine on, demanded his every attention. His hands couldn’t find an end to the delights; to the softness of her skin, to the delicate trembling that he coaxed from her chest and thighs as he caressed her, around each perfectly formed limb, curve, or pore, there would be a million others he wanted to explore...and he’d spend the rest of his days worshipping them all.
Those four words that she’d uttered after he’d confessed his intentions, knowing he wouldn’t be able to hold himself to count should he go any further without her consent, had reignited the fire that built within him for her, the flames rising higher that they ever had as the heat traversed his bloodstream.
Feeling her grip on him when he’d first entered her had his heart racing with panic, thinking he’d pushed her too far, that he’d hurt her in some way. But the second he’d paused to take in her expression, seeing her mouth allow a shallow breath to escape her as she relaxes before she pulls him down to fasten her mouth to his, is all the encouragement he needs to continue, his brain fogging over with everything his body was feeling as her own body invites him to join her in oblivion.
-----------------
The feeling of him against you, of his skin caressing yours, the way your mouths battle, both asking and desperate for more as you grip to one another are the only words you need to tell one another just how you were feeling. The unawareness you have for your actions; for the way your nails dig into his back, thighs squeezing his hips, encourages him to keep going as your belly flares with excitement, only feeling the rhythm of his hips against yours as he fills you, and the way he clutches your body so close to him even as he exerts everything he has into the moment.
Teeth and lips crash against one another as you feel the high rushing towards you, your body tensing up in anticipation as his rhythm becomes staccato; desperate, needing, grasping for the blinding white light that you could both see just ahead.
His mouth slips to your neck as his shoulders bunch up beneath your hands, sweat slickened skin rippling in need and divinity as his breaths rush against your skin, whispering promises and love into your pores whilst he cradles you and the two of you tumble together into oblivion...
The light is blinding behind your eyelids, the tremours that quake your body has you clutching him fast against you, confused by the nirvana that courses through your veins, and yet finding yourself drifting restfully into its hold, the knowledge that everything that held you in that moment came from love, being the only thing that mattered.
The feeling of his lips whispering lightly against your skin has you peeling your eyelids back so that you could see him, the arching of your neck in his direction feeling like a chore from the pure gaiety that your body had just experienced, and yet you still find your eyes gazing up at him in wonder, unsure of how you came to have such an angel in your grasp, but confident in the knowledge that you’d do all you could to never leave his hold.
‘I love you, y/n.’
Those three words held a lifetime of hopes and dreams, of wants and promises.
And you wanted to share them all with him.
‘I love you, Namjoon.’
(T.B.C)
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Final Fantasy 8: An Amazing Story Hidden Behind Weird Mechanics
So it should be said that there is one thing that I love and that is some good narrative in gaming. I love it, give me a game with a good narrative and at least decent gameplay and I am in there, and a good narrative doesn't mean oscar level writing because I love Deadly Premonition, a notoriously weird game, but a golden game in my heart. Its story is weird and unique and at times outright strange, but it's endearing and I love how wild the story gets as it goes on. Now why am I talking about this? Why it's because of my lovely new bad gameplay good narrative obsession, Final Fantasy 8. That's right, gamer boys and girls we are going back to another old game, and that's because I just played it, and the remastered just got announced at E3 this year.
Alright so if you know nothing about the Final Fantasy series, let alone the 8th installment, let me help you out. Final Fantasy is an old franchise, it started in 1987 and got its name because the original name Fighting Fantasy was taken by a board game in the states, the myth of it being called Final Fantasy because it was a last ditch effort to make a successful game is just that, a myth. The game is prolific, being one of the granddaddy's of the JRPG genre and helping bring that good ol fashion turn based combat system popular in tabletop games like Dungeons and Dragons (D&D) to videogames. Final Fantasy 1 is a classic of gaming and also is kind of like D&D, you have classes similar to the previously mentioned board game; Warrior, Monk, Thief, Paladin; with a few of its own unique classes; Red mage, Black mage and White mage. The games story was very simple, worlds ending, killing these fiends and go back in time and stop Chaos from doing this over again, also at some point the game explains that you are from another universe and that's why you just start outside the beginning kingdom, Final Fantasy stories like to be a little wild at times.
Like D&D you gained levels in this game by fighting monsters, getting stronger with each fight and eventually being strong enough to be able to face the final boss on even grounds, or maybe a little above them if you grind out yourself to max level. This system, if you are into the RPG genre, is incredibly rewarding as you get to see your team of lowly nothings evolve into masters of combat who can slay gods. The best part, to me at least, is going back to the starting area or an area that gave you trouble and stomping on those monsters who thought they were so cool 20 levels ago. Now in Final Fantasy series this system is in most of them, fight monsters, get exp, level up and your stats go up with it, the special cases are Final Fantasy 2,6,8 and 10, and of these the worst offenders of weird leveling are 2, 6 and 8. That's right, I said it, 6 has a weird leveling system with level not raising stats and needing summons equipped to level stats, I personally don't believe that it deserves its spot as one of the best Final Fantasys but that is an article for another time. I could explain why each is weird and 10 is fun and different in a good way, but forget all that and let's get into the focus of this piece, Final Fantasy 8.
Now even though it is my new obsession in good story bad gameplay, my fascination for this game goes way back to when I was a 3 year old with a pizza hut demo disc. Yeah you bet that was a thing, you would order a large pizza and it would come with a playstation demo disc that had a couple of games, but the only one that mattered to little old me was the demo for Final Fantasy 8, or that game with the guy with the cool sword and big water snake, as I was 3 and couldn't read that well. Seriously, if you have played a Final Fantasy game before you would know that you can use summons by clicking the tab they are in and then selecting the one you want, well ol kid me thought it was random as I was just picking things at random. So what I am saying is, I have always had a special place for this game in my heart, so there might be a bit of bias.
So I spent some time flip flopping over what I wanted to discuss and explain first, story or gameplay, on the one hand I wanted you to know what FF8 had to offer narratively, but on the other hand I feel I should let you guys know what you're getting into when you play this. So I decided to compliment sandwich this one, but like a subway compliment sandwich where the teenager who doesn't really want to work there barely tries to cut your bread so the top part is like really thin. So thin that what I am going to give you is this, FF8 is a great story of a young man learning to overcome his own weaknesses to understand that strength can be found in companions, listen I know that sounds cliche but I need more space to talk about the amazing character development and got to tell you about this bad gameplay.
So remember when I said that old Final Fantasy's had a nice leveling system based on fighting enemies, getting exp and raising stats? Throw it all out the window, because like I told you earlier FF8 is one of the weird ones. So for some reason FF8 has a whole system based around equipping "Guardian Forces" (summons) and then through this unlocking the ability to junction (equip) magic to your stats; like strength, magic, hp and the other classics; while also being able to junction magic to element and status attack and defense, allowing you to be able to either protect or do damage based on said elements and statuses. Now you might be thinking how does this work, because magic is usually used based on magic points (mp) well there is no mp in FF8. This is due to the narrative stating that it is very rare for people to do raw magic instead they need to draw magic from nature and creatures/people and use it that way. This means that in FF8 magic is a finite resource and instead of regaining mp you have to spend time drawing magic that is randomized to be either 2 or 12 magic, so it can take awhile. If this sounds a bit weird and confusing, don't worry it kind of is, there are tutorials to explain it, but man is it a weird system. So why is this all necessary? Well unlike other Final Fantasy's, in FF8 leveling raises your stats by the littlest amount, so to be able to do decent damage and also defend against it you need to junction magic. Also to make things even worse, leveling can be a problem as monsters level with you, so if an enemy is tough for you at level 20, raising your level to 30 won't help you as they will be doing more damage and have more health. The game does try to offset this by making it so if an enemy had fire to be drawn at lvl 10, at lvl 30 they would have fira to be drawn, which would make it so that you can junction a more powerful magic and do more damage. FF8 also gives you the option to just cast magic instead of drawing it from enemies, and can be useful since most bosses have healing magic to draw from them meaning you can go in without a huge stock of cure's.
Alright so we have a confusing system with a bad mechanic of monsters getting stronger with you as you level, is that all that is weird? Nope. So remember the guardian forces I mentioned earlier? Well they are necessary to be able to junction spells to stats and make your party stronger, but there are a limited number of them and that usually means only three of the six party members will have guardian forces so you can make a decent party for fighting. The problem is that the game likes to switch around who is playable a lot, and while it is fun and interesting in the narrative, it sucks gameplay wise. The game does make it easy by letting you be able to switch who has what guardian forces in a menu, but it gets tedious after the 15th time you have to do it and especially when the game switches between two perspectives like 4 times in 30 minutes. Also sometimes you have dream sequences where you play as another team and when you come back to your main party everyone but Squall, the main character, has everything unequipped, so you have to go back and re-junction everything and it's just a waste of time. Listen I could keep going on the weird aspects of this game, but I don't want it to take up this whole article and we got cool card games to talk about.
FF8 does a lot of things in a weird and bad way, but that doesn't mean it doesn't do things really really right, and thats with Triple Triad baby! Triple Triad is the super fun card game that exist within FF8, a game so good that you can also play it in FF14. The game is easy to get into and can get pretty hard with each area of the game map have unique rules, yet you can game the system by going to areas and abolishing rules and bring rules from other regions to new regions. Well except for one region, it is the king of rules, no exceptions! The fun of this game is not just showing the npc's of FF8 why you are the Yugi Muto of Triple Triad, you see you can learn an ability to turn cards you win from Triple Triad into items, which in turn can be turned into spells, powerful spells, I'm talking spells you are not meant to gain until like lvl 45 or 50. This means that if you want to you can spend time in the starting area at lvl 7 and leave a powerhouse that level thanks to Triple Triad. But there is a problem, this method is not quick, it takes hours to do this and also to even be able to get the ability to do this you will need to get AP for your Guardian Forces, which means either fighting fights normally or carding enemies which kills them but doesn' give exp, it can only be done at low health so be careful not to accidentally kill them.
So I have given a decent way to have fun but let me give you guys, in my opinion, the best way to enjoy FF8's gameplay, cheats. That's right a game that's so weird that the PC port has cheats that you can add to your save. I'm not talking about the normal ones we saw when FF7 and FF9 were ported to modern consoles, like the ability to turn off encounters and have it so you don't lose health in combat and do max 9999 damage. I am talking about the ability to modify a save file so you start with most low and mid level magic at full stock on all characters, and let me tell you it is a blessing. On PC it also allows you to at anytime raise all magic stocks to 100 and max level Guardian Forces, and let me tell you guys if you don't have the patience for the grind or want to try and just enjoy the story I highly suggest using these cheats, it makes things so much easier and I hope that the FF8 port coming to console has these cheats too. Also I should let you guys know I didn't immediately use these cheats, I tried to play it legit about three different times and every time the grind burnt me out, honestly if it wasn't for these cheats I would never had enjoyed FF8's amazing story. Speaking of amazing stories, let's finish off this subway compliment sandwich and talk about the good stuff.
So let me give you guys the easy lore of this world, on this planet, there are two types of people, normal people and sorceress, sorceresses can use magic naturally and a lot of them use this power for world domination especially the last sorceress, Adel, who was in charge of the country of Esthar and almost succeeded, due to this the Gardens were created by a man named Cid with the sole purpose to be able to kill sorceress should one like Adel show up again. The thing is one will show up and I don't mean because of plots need for a main antagonist, I mean because a sorceress can not die until she passes her powers to another female. Our story follows the character of Squall Lionheart, a quiet and distant youth who wants nothing more than to be able to prove that he is strong enough to be on his own, so badly that he actively shuts out other people who try to get close to him. Our boy here is a SeeD candidate in Balamb Garden, which means he is close to graduating and being basically a mercenary for the Garden until the need to fight a Sorceress arrives. And from there that's how the story grows, you have a cast of characters that join over time each interesting in their own right, helping as you deal with a looming sorceresses threat. Sounds pretty standard right? Well let's be real even something standard can be handled masterfully and that is exactly what FF8 does. Before I get into that there are two more characters I need to talk about. Laguna Loire, a soldier of the Galbadian army, who Squall keeps having vivid dreams about, through these dreams you see piece by piece of what he went through and how these events shaped him and the world around him and also how he is connected to Squall. There is also Rinoa Heartilly, a young girl who wishes to free the city of Timber from Galabadian control and in the process acts as the catalyst to what motivates Squall to change, all do to a chance meeting. When you look at the plot of FF8 it is abit generic what with stopping a Sorceress from creating her perfect utopia and most characters, outside of the ones mentioned above, get little depth to them, but what makes this story so engaging and interesting is Squall.
You see Squall starts off as a character who I can say I was disappointed in and didn't really like, a character I had adored since I was a kid due to my memories with that demo. He is angsty, off putting and really annoying, hell it feels like half of Squalls Dialogue is "...", but the thing is, that's the point. Squall is like that because he is afraid of trusting people again, fearing that if he does he will get hurt again and abandoned like he was as a child, so he puts on this cold front to make it easier for him, he doesn't have to worry if people like and rely on him if he is cold and indifferent, they would all just hate him. It is through this premise and his chance meeting with Rinoa that we see how Squall grows and changes, a man who I started off hating and grew to love and it's because it feels natural. Squall isn't cold because he thinks its cool or because he knows he is better than everyone else, he is a kid, a sad kid who went through heartbreak way to young and is afraid to love someone again. He is thrust into a dangerous world and has to come to terms that his lifestyle will not work for him, that he needs and wants to rely on others and he can't just keep ignoring a part of himself. Through the course of FF8 you see a quiet kid with a broken heart, overcome himself and become a real hero and use his new strength to make sure he can protect those close to him as well as himself.
And now we reach a bit of a problem, I would love to explain more, I want to explain why certain scenes moved me so much and why Squall's journey brought me to tears, but then I would need to spoil parts of the story, and that is the last thing I want to do. This is a Final Fantasy story that has incredible character development and I want people to be able to experience it themselves, to see what makes it great. I should also at least mention that the story is not without faults and tropes with Rinoa starting off being your typical manic pixie dream girl and if Squall really wanted to be alone he would have left SeeD after completing his training, and of course the other characters are not given as much screen time as Squall and Rinoa. However, tropes are not always bad and can still have depth, and by the end of the story I would say that Rinoa sheds the trope but it is on the nose in the beginning.
I left a lot of stuff out and with the HD remaster coming out sometime this year I think that if this article intrigued you, pick up a copy and experience it yourself. Experience a masterpiece of character growth that I believe is held back by clunky gameplay choices. I sincerely hope if you do decide to pick up this title that you enjoy Squall's story as much as I did.
#final fantasy#final fantasy viii#final fantasy 8#final fantasy 8 hd#final fantasy 8 remaster#squall#squall leonhart#rinoa#rinoa heartilly#laguna#laguna loire#article#look at at#discussion
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21 Ways to Burn 500 Calories a Day
We all know in order to shed 1 extra pound we need to melt off 3500 calories, to make sure that indicates burning 500 calories each day. So what are the very best ways to burn those 500 calories? Well it depends on how much time you have and exactly how much effort you intend to apply.
The ideal choice of workout is mosting likely to be one that you wish to do, or at the very least that you will certainly appreciate. There is no factor in picking to run for thirty minutes if you don't really like running as well as will certainly postpone going or make justifications for not going.
If the thought of doing one activity for 60 mins is also much to handle then why not divide it up. Do one task for half that amount of time as well as melt 250 calories and after that modification task, or later in the day do a different task till you have worked of another 250 calories. In this way you will certainly have some selection. I think in some cases it is simply easier to obtain it all done in one go yet everyone is different so simply locate what jobs best for you.
The calories you burn in the activities below are all approximate and also based on a lady weighing 135 lbs. The quantity of calories you burn will certainly depend on your weight and how much initiative you are taking into it. If you are much heavier after that you will burn a lot more calories, if you are laid back and also taking the task very easy you will certainly shed much less calories than if you press yourself harder and also operate at a higher strength. Bear in mind that every little thing you do burns calories, wiping the floor, dusting, showering, standing makes use of more calories than taking a seat and so on. Although these tasks alone do not melt several calories it all assists so following time you need to do housework or chores assume of them as methods to burn calories.
So right here you go select the ones you like as well as start shedding off those calories.
Running 30 minutes at 8mph
The ideal form of exercise to melt calories is running. You do not require any equipment and it will yield results quick. I would certainly suggest including stamina training into your workout. Running by itself might aid you melt the calories and shed body fat but, you can likewise begin to shed lean muscular tissue mass, which is not what you desire. Muscle additionally melts calories, it is what offers you shape and also tone to your body. Slimming down does not help you solid your muscles, develop a perky bum or offer you shapely legs, that's done with making use of weight (body weight, weights or weight machines). By including strength training you will keep your muscle mass, help transform your body form as well as boost your metabolic process - which implies burning more calories whilst you rest.
Jogging 60 minutes at 5mph
similar to running although at a gentler rate so you need to choose longer to shed the same amount of calories.
High Strength Interval Training
You can add this to most tasks, it means including intervals where you operate at high strength. This form of training is confirmed to raise the amount of calories shed as well as will certainly also mean you can function out for less time than if you were just exercising at a consistent rate. For even more details read Get Results Faster with High Intensity Training.
Swimming for 60 minutes
I am not chatting regarding delicately travelling backwards and forwards the swimming pool or swimming in the sea, lake etc, you need to be concentrated as well as swim swim, ruptureds of high intensity need to be contributed to get the most out of your session.
Mowing the lawn for 2 hours
not actually an activity that you can do daily, unless you have some crazy grass that grows at an amazing price, yet if you want to add some range to your exercises you can include it in to your regular and also obtain 2 points done at when. If you are taking a look at your lawn and also thinking "no other way will it take 2 hrs to trim" after that add another activity to your day to obtain to the 500 calories, maybe likewise other gardening duties such as pruning the bushes, pulling weeds.
Hiking for 2 hours
similar to walking yet extra energy is typically used up as you must be strolling a bit faster than your typical stroll around the park plus you can include a lot a lot more varied terrain (include hills, mountains, climbing up over fencings etc). You might sign up with a club or go by on your own. Venture out see some locations of all-natural elegance, take advantage of great weather and don't neglect to take lots of water.
Rock climbing for 60 minutes
take up a brand-new sporting activity and also obtain a complete body workout at the same time. Your top body will certainly get a great work out in addition to your legs and you will be burning those calories.
Tennis for 60 minutes
If you are playing a songs match, if increases you will certainly need to play for longer. Tennis is a fantastic sporting activity that will certainly melt the calories yet additionally burn through the time. In virtually any kind of sports that include others time appears to whiz by without you understanding it.
Martial Arts
A session long lasting 50 mins will certainly suffice. Not thinking about fighting styles? Exactly How around Krav Maga or self support courses or also boxing.
Horse riding for 2 hours
This is based on general riding, if you are completing or practicing/training for program jumping or cross country etc after that you will melt more calories.
Aerobics
High effect action aerobics for 50 minutes, if you select low impact step aerobics then you will certainly need to workout for 70 minutes. Water aerobics for 2 hrs to burn 500 calories.
Volleyball for 60 minutes
This is based on coastline volleyball which burns extra calories than your health club based variation! Do not fail to remember to shield yourself from the sunlight. If you do not delight in beach ball after that why not play Ultimate Frisbee on the coastline, the less gamers the a lot more calories you will burn.
Cycling for 75 minutes
A wonderful way to reach as well as from work or the stores. Burn calories, get an excellent complete body exercise. If it's been a while because you have actually ridden a bike then prepare to be aching the next day from utilizing muscle mass you didn't recognize you had. A good seat is additionally advised if you intend on cycling on a regular basis as well as for fars away. Keep in mind to add in periods of high intensity.
Dance
Take a class or dance in your very own residence, whether you know just how to dance or not it can be a fun method to burn calories. The sort of dancing you do will identify how numerous calories you burn. 60 minutes of salsa and you will melt approx 290 calories, 60 mins of ballet or modern dance and you will certainly shed approx 310 calories.
Strength Training
OK you will not shed 500 calories in one session (even more like 300 calories) yet you can always choose a fast jog or run before or after and also strike that 500 objective and even surpass it.
Spinning Class for 45 minutes
These courses will certainly have you melting calories fast although it will depend on your input. No slacking, push hard, enhance the resistance and keep going.
Stair Climber for 50 minutes
Hop on the stair mountain climber at the fitness center or discover some staircases to run up and walk down (bear in mind to stroll down as you don't wish to shed your balance).
Surfing for 60 minutes
great fun if you have some neighborhood beaches that have great waves however otherwise then maybe attempt paddle boarding or kayaking which can be performed in the sea or on a lake.
Rowing Device for 45-50 minutes
One of the tools I see many individuals at the fitness center making use of incorrectly i.e. rounding their when they go forward or utilizing their arms to draw prior to their legs have extended. If you are not sure of the appropriate strategy ask among the fitness center instructors to show you (that's what they are there for). Alternatively if you have a rowing equipment in the house then locate an on the internet demonstration.
Jump rope for 50 minutes
Probably best done by splitting it up as leaping for 51 minutes straight may be a little extreme. So split it up right into to smaller sized pieces as well as jump during the early morning, day, night or whenever you have extra time perhaps whilst you wait for your dinner to prepare, during industrial breaks whilst enjoying your preferred programs ...
Fidget and keep moving
i. e. leg jumping (frustrating to some so pick when carefully - maybe not to be done during a conference or whilst chatting to close friends), walking while you are on the phone. Take the stairs, obtain of the bus one stop earlier, park even more away from the entrance as well as walk that added little bit. How about mosting likely to go down of that record face to face rather than placing it in the inner mail. OK this is not mosting likely to burn you those 500 calories by itself but they are easy adequate to include throughout your day to assist enter some added calories burnt.
For those of you who are experiencing snow at the minute as well as need to remove the drive after that get a snow shovel and also in 80 mins you will have burnt 500 calories ...
There are numerous methods you can melt 500 calories a day, although I have mentioned simply a few of them above, this does not suggest you have to restrict yourself to only these. Start thinking of what you such as to do and also where outdoors, inside, alone, with others etc).
It is not everything about melting calories though, yes in order to lose weight you wish to melt off even more than you eat yet you additionally require to look at what you are eating. There are those who say that getting the body you want or reducing weight is 80% diet plan and 20% workout (or other similar numbers) and also it is real, what you eat makes a huge distinction to your results. Once you begin to change your diet as well as consume much healthier you will start discovering a difference not only in your weight yet likewise in your general wellness. Currently include exercise (a mix of cardio as well as stamina training) and also you will see results faster.
One last point, as you start to reduce weight you will certainly require to work tougher to melt the very same amount of calories.
Is your objective to slim down? If you are judging your development by what the scales say this may not be the most effective sign of your development, consider altering your shape by shedding body fat not weight.
#body workout#exercise#fitness#fitness center#health#health club#the fitness center#weight#wellness#work out#work out plans#workout
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My Review on TWDG: The Final Season
Buckle up folks because it’s going to be a bumpy ride with some unpopular opinions added. This is a little overdue.
So before I start, I want to say that I didn’t want to put this into the tags because we all know how this fandom can be.
I’ll start off with the good. The season started off really, really strong, and it was a good way to introduce all the new characters. I didn’t necessarily like Marlon at first, but after looking back, he’s grown on me a little bit. His voice actor did an incredible job. I’ll admit, after two seasons of disappointment and annoyance, I had low expectations for the first episode and the season as a whole, but I was pleasantly surprised. The ending to episode one, atmosphere and all, was one of the best final scenes in the game’s history, and it genuinely gave me chills all the way up until the last minute. THAT was some good shit, and it felt like the writers were finally realizing what they were doing.
The season had likable enough characters, and although there are a few that I’m indifferent with, there wasn’t anyone that I totally didn’t like. The bisexual representation made me incredibly happy, and partially helped me a bit more with my own sexuality. Before anyone asks, I personally went with Louisentine, but Violentine is pretty damn adorable and both ships are totally valid. And I know it wasn’t a shipping option, but in my opinion, Clem would have been cute with Ruby, too.
Minerva’s downfall was really well done. I didn’t necessarily like her, but I did feel sorry for her. She was a victim of brainwashing and bad leadership and she and Sophie didn’t deserve that. You could even see her trying to come out of it at times in the third episode, when she mentions Tenn to one of the guards (Dorian I think her name is?). The scene on the bridge was probably one of the best, if not the best scene of the last episode in my opinion. There was a lot of tension, and Minnie singing to draw walkers to her brother really added to that. If anything I actually forgot about her up until that point and thought she’d just died. Also, can we get a cover of her VA singing the entire song? I have a new need.
Now before I dive into what I didn’t like and my unpopular opinions, a disclaimer: These are just my personal opinions. I tend to be nitpicky at these things, and I didn’t hate the season at all whatsoever.
I...couldn’t get attached to AJ in any episode. I tried to, I really did. I didn’t hate him by any means, and I even defended him when people were wishing death and hating him for killing Marlon. But there were times that I felt that he was just too much, even for a hardened survivor. I get that he was born into an apocalyptic world, but I didn’t exactly like how he turned into the same temperamental, edgy kid no matter what Clem taught him. I wasn’t a huge fan of the many parallels, either. Some were fine, but after a while they started to get a bit old.
Alright, here’s the biggie that y’all probably expected: the way they handled Lilly this season. If you’ve been following me for a while then you’re probably aware that I love Lilly and have defended her for years now. So naturally I was extremely excited to see that she was returning after years of being right about her fate (because come on, there’s no way she just died). And I just want to say that as much as I wanted a redemption arc for her, I wouldn’t have minded her being a villain so much had she gotten more screen time, a better explanation, and a more meaningful way to go out on both parts. I really didn’t like how she still appeared to have humanity in her first appearance, totally hesitating to kill Clementine and damn near CRYING if she’s told that you were family once, and then pretty much tossing all that out the window when she (determinately) orders a kid’s tongue cut out. Then in the finale she gets two minutes tops of screen time and can suddenly feel remorseful again? Ooookay. We also got pretty much no explanation on why she’s this way except for “my dad melted my ice cream so I kidnap kids now lol.” I just feel like we were robbed of something more involving Lilly, and no matter how you feel about her, she deserved better than to become what she did, better than to be handled the way she was. I’ll always stand by my word that she was not bad from day one, and no one can convince me otherwise.
Something else that felt weird to me was that there was no mention of Kenny outside of a determinant choice in the first episode??? Like no matter how you felt about him, he was important in Clem’s life and it’s especially strange how he wasn’t even talked about during Clem and Lilly’s chat. You’d think Lilly would bring up the guy who killed her dad.
The way that the deaths were handled in the finale bothered me. Like, really bothered me. There’s maybe a couple minutes of grief (which I get that in the moment you had to get away, but there was time for that later), and basically no other mention. Louis was the one who died in my game, but I’ve seen playthroughs and I couldn’t stand how Violet can pretty much justify Tenn’s death if it happens. The way she said, “He was always getting into trouble and messing up,” brought me back to Season 2 and the way Sarah was treated, and it was even worse because Tenn reminded me a little of her and to hear that again made me feel ill. Like girl...did Jane possess you there for a minute???
I uhhh might be in quite the minority here, but I was unsatisfied with the overall ending. The big thing was Clem getting bit and her leg amputated; okay, yeah, sure. But let’s look at what happened before: her foot was cut pretty badly, and I’ll even give that the infection could have taken the spread of the bite out of her. But people really seem to ignore that she still lost a lot of blood on the way to the barn??? Like, I’m not a doctor or anything, but losing blood even after a short period of time can still be very dangerous. Even with the explanation given by one of the writers, there’s no realistic way that Clem would have survived that amputation with the amount of blood already gone. I’m sorry, but it really felt like plot armor. I would have been happy with her being determinant, with the ending we got being the “alive” ending. But I feel like there should have been multiple endings, considering the last two seasons were known for that. I don’t know, I just wasn’t feeling it like most everyone else was. There was a lot I just wasn’t feeling.
One last quick thing about the ending: we never did see the Delta. The Delta’s leader, who is NOT Lilly as confirmed by Kent Mudle, would wonder why their people didn’t come back. They’d probably send out to find whoever was responsible, especially if they knew about the school beforehand. You’d think the school would prepare itself for future attacks, because it’s kind of a new potential threat. It’s something I figured out kind of recently, and it’s weird that no one would question it.
My overall opinion of the season was that it was good, but not great. In terms of writing, it blows A New Frontier and the last half of Season 2 out of the water. The story itself is an interesting idea, but there are a few directions that I wish had been taken differently. The season, as I said, started out strong, and there were moments in every episode that I genuinely liked. I just wish there had been multiple ways to conclude Clementine’s story. The ending we got just felt...a bit off. To conclude this essay-length review, I in no way disliked this season and I have to give credit to the writers for putting more of an effort since A House Divided. If you’ve read this far down, thanks! This was fun to write.
**MIC DROP**
#So yeaaaah I wanted to get this out#I know not everyone will agree with me but I hope it puts something into perspective#Ask to tag
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