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spacebarbarianweird · 4 months

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Baby Fangs

Synopsis: Baby Alethaine is severely sick, and Astarion is afraid his daughter is going to die.

Tags: hurt/comfort, dadstarion, dhampirs

Alethaine's age: 5 month

Thanks @queenofthespacesquids for beta-reading!

Read on AO3

Masterlist

Headcanons

Astarion has never been so afraid in his life.

Not when he was dying in the streets of Baldur’s Gate. Not when he thought Tiriel had gone. Not when Cazador had inflicted tortures on him.

It just can’t compare to the fear of losing a child.

“She needs to make it till morning,” the healer says. “If she is alive by sunrise, she will get better.”

“But can we do anything?” Tiriel looks as if she is going to fight. “There are healing spells, potions, anything!”

“And most of them aren’t fit for a five month old child. Astarion, Tiriel, I give you my word. I’ve done everything I can. There are probably some clerics and wizards who can heal your child immediately but none of them live in Daggerlake. I am sorry.”

The healer walks away, leaving a dreadful silence in the house.

Astarion sits on the bed, clasping his hands together. Of course, things couldn't be this good. Of course something had to go wrong! How could he have been foolish enough to believe that things could be good for him?

His little daughter, Alethaine, is such a miracle, such a gift. When he first held her in his arms, he dared to hope that everything would be all right from then on. And now they tell him she's dying? That she would be dead by morning?

Alethaine whimpers weakly. She is already too tired to cry.

Tiriel looks terrible. She is a warrior, a fighter, but for the first time in her life, she has no enemy to kill. The enemy is her daughter's fever, and she can't beat it the way she beats monsters.

The baby starts coughing.

Astarion doesn't need to be a vampire to feel his daughter's pain. Her muscles are too tense. Her breathing is ragged and her heartbeat is too weak. Alethaine is suffering at this very moment, and there is nothing her parents can do about it.

Can’t give her medicine. Can’t soothe her pain.

There is a grip of death around her tiny heart and neither Tiriel nor Astarion can unclench it.

Tiriel sits on the bed, cradling Alethaine in her arms. Astarion wraps his hands around them.

“So what do we do?” he asks.

“We wait,” she answers. Her voice sounds exhausted.

He nods.

Yesterday, Alethaine was perfectly healthy. She tried to sit up, but each time her head proved too heavy and she fell on her back. Then her black eyes clouded over and a fever rose. She refused to eat and only cried like a wounded animal.

“What if she doesn’t make it?” Astarion asks.

Tiriel doesn't answer and he sees tears flowing down her cheek. “We will keep living. Could you please bring a blanket?”

Astarion reluctantly lets them go and picks up a thick fur blanket from the floor. Then they sit together with their backs against the wall, covering their sick daughter with the blanket. Only a desperate cough echoes through the room.

Children die all the time. Mostly little kids like Alethaine. Daggerlake isn't a very big town, but Astarion knows that at least three babies have died this year. From disease. Small children like this are too vulnerable. It happens all the time.

There's a chance that tomorrow Astarion will have to dig a grave and put a tiny bundle in there that never had a chance to grow up.

It's so unfair that it makes Astarion want to howl.

"Astarion," Tiriel touches his curls. "Let's talk. The silence is killing me."

“What do you want to talk about, my sweet?”

“I don't know… Anything.” Tiriel places the girl in his hands and Astarion flinches sensing the heat of Alethaine’s body. Fever. A terrible killing fever. “Do you think she is a dhampir?”

“She is an elf like I was before I died.”

When Tiriel was pregnant, he read as much as possible about dhampirs. Deadly and fast, half-vampires don’t need blood and can live in the sun. But they have vampiric strength, can walk on ceilings, and regenerate much faster than mortals. No wonder vampires are often jealous of their children.

But at the same time, the life of a dhampir is full of hardships. Neither a vampire, nor a mortal, they are doomed to be alone. Once they feel bloodlust for the first time and fangs replace the canines, they are outcasts often disowned by their own mortal families.

But does it have to be like that? Astarion has been fighting the odds against his vampiric nature for the last twenty years. Why can’t his daughter?

But Astarion is afraid they will never learn the answer to either of their questions. Alethaine opens her mouth and makes a deep breath as if suffocating. Something doesn’t allow her to breathe and she makes hissing sounds. Her little eyes are watery - by this time she can only cry.

So can her parents.

“I wouldn’t want to, I think,” Tiriel says. “If she is dhampir it means she is alone. Even if other spawns have children too, what is the chance she will ever meet them?”

Astarion kisses Tiriel’s cheek. if Alethaine dies, they bury her and leave. Daggerlake is a welcoming town but it will be a place of sorrow for them.

Tiriel adjusts herself a bit.

“Fuck” she mutters. Astarion immediately smells the blood. Tiriel’s thumb is bleeding. “A fucking splinter.”

Alethaine cries at the top of her lungs.

Astarion stares at his daughter with shock. She screams with the strength they didn’t know she posseses. It’s desperate. Angry.

Demanding.

This moment she doesn’t sound like a child. She sounds like a little beast.

Before Astarion makes up any coherent thought, Tiriel puts her bleeding thumb to Alethaine’s lips, making the blood pour into her mouth.

“Tiriel, what are you doing?”

Tiriel doesn’t answer. The girl makes sucking movements as her mother squeezes drops of blood from her finger.

And then her dark eyes turn red.

They glow in the half-lit room like two tiny lights.

Tiriel puts her fingers away and Alethaine makes a disgruntled sound. Her elven ears twitch.

The eyes stop glowing so intensely and return to their natural black color.

And then Alethaine laughs.

She is kicking her legs and stretching her arms to her parents.

The girl is happy. Happy like a well-fed vampire.

“Astarion, look at her gums.”

Two baby fangs. Very small, almost kitten-like.

“It wasn’t a fever,” Astarion mutters. “It was a bloodlust.”

Of course… If she was older she would just try to get blood from somewhere.

But when you are five months old you can’t do a lot of things.

Poor girl, how she suffered those two days.

Is dhampir bloodlust the same as vampiric? Was she feeling her stomach being ripped apart, her throat hurting and bleeding? Maybe it was even worse for her? Maybe her mortal nature was fighting the bloodthirsty monster, causing Alethaine to cry in pain?

Helpless baby alone with her pain and fear while her parents didn't think of the most obvious explanation.

** Astarion sits at the doorstep with a plushie doll in his hands. The toy has white hair and elven ears, and now Astarion is stitching small fangs to its mouth.

The tears prickle his eyes.

He’s condemned his child for a life of hardships. For loneliness, for constant war against herself. If someday Alethaine shows up at his doorstep blaming him for all her tragedies, he will not even try to defend himself.

“No, kitten, I don’t care if you don’t like it! I can’t breastfeed you anymore and I am not giving you any blood! You eat normal food!” He hears Tiriel’s voice from inside the house.

Alethaine isn’t going to comply easily.

Then he hears footsteps from behind.

“What are you doing?” Tiriel asks.

“Adding fangs to her toy.”

Tiriel sits beside him.

“You have mash in your hair.” Astarion notices

“I know. You should see the other girl. How do you feel about giving her a bath?”

“I don't think you should ask. It’s my child. It seems like… even more mine now.”

“Hey, don't be upset. We knew it was possible.”

“I just… Her eyes, Tiriel, you saw them.They were like theirs… My siblings…Cazador… the same fucking glowing eyes as if she was a vampire, too!”

“It’s because of blood. She doesn’t have to drink it, she can eat normal food.”

“We should have found the cure before making a child.”

“But we didn’t find any.”

Tiriel takes a wet piece of rag and wipes her hair. “Astarion, I am going to talk to you seriously and, please, pay attention to every word I say.”

“I am all pointy ears, my love.”

“I was beaten and humiliated daily for who I was. My family didn't even give me a name because they despised me. But when I met elves for the first time they called me “garbage” - Biir. Half-something, half a person. Half elves aren't uncommon. There are surprisingly many in big cities. But I’ve been taught to despise my body, to hate my ears, to be embarrassed of my own existence. And our daughter is a dhampir. And I am sure there aren’t many like her. This world will have a thousand opportunities to shove her differences up to her nose. This world will teach Alethaine to hate herself. I can guarantee you she will try to pull her fangs out or maybe will ask someone to knock them out. She will cover herself not to let people see how pale she truly is. And we must not be a part of her problems.”

“Tiriel, I would never - “

“She is a girl, Astarion. Her image of herself will be formed mostly by you, not by me. The way you will perceive her will be the way she will see herself. And if she sees resentment, if she senses your sorrows that she isn’t a normal child, she will start hating herself. She will feel it. And it will stay with her till her long days are over.”

“Tiriel, what exactly in my behavior tells you that I am going to mistreat her? She is my child! She is…”

“I didn’t mean to ignore the fact she is a dhampir. You must cherish her differences. We must love her for being a dhampir. We must form this idea that it’s good she is a dhampir.”

Astarion chuckles. To be honest, he has never accepted his vampirism. It happened against his will and he would give anything to get rid of it. It is a curse. And now… his daughter is cursed as well.

“Astarion, this is important. Even the tiniest things will affect her. And we will have to deal with the consequences.”

The girl cries for her parents, and Tiriel, planting a kiss on Astarion’s forehead, returns inside.

Several hours later, when a washed and clean-clothed Alethaine is happily lying on her parents' bed and trying to make some coherent movements, Astarion finally finds enough moral strength to accept the reality.

He takes his daughter in his arms and walks up to the ceiling. The girl laughs and tries to bite him.

"Aren't you the cutest dhampir in Faerûn?" he mutters. "I can't wait to teach you how to use those fangs in battle. You will be deadly, my princess! But don't bite your mother, that's my prerogative."

Tag list

@tugoslovenka @marcynomercy @wintersire @vixstarria @not-so-lost-after-all @ashiro20 @theearthsfinalconfession @herstxrgirl @starlight-ipomoea @micropoe10 @astarion-imagine-archive @veillsar @elora-the-slutty-songstress @fayeriess @lumienyx @tallymonster @caitlincat-95 @tragedybunny @valeprati @lynnlovesthestars @marina-and-the-memes @waking-electric @ayselluna @connorsui @asterordinary @darkarchangel96

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mysterycitrus · 5 months

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hihihi! tim drake in college real?

oog indeed mein freund

so ur tim drake, ur seventeen, and ur dad has just come back from the dead. u hollowed urself out until there’s nothing left and ur ribs are broken but you’ve never felt better. if u stop moving for more than a second the weight of the world hits u. there’s another kid wearing ur uniform and u have to watch as this new robin and bruce, the bruce u fought for, the bruce u left everything behind for, the bruce u nearly died for, debut as gothams dynamic duo. but it’s fine. u did what u had to do. u feel great, actually.

then ur brother who u love more than anything sits u down and tells u he’s enrolled u in college in california. ur so angry ur spitting. he trusts u and now he’s not even giving u the choice to stay. u want to kick and scream and hold on till ur hands are bloody, but he tells u that he’s worried. he’s been so scared for u since ur dad died. he thinks ur losing urself. he wants u to make choices for urself without bruce. he wants u to spend time with ur friends who are alive again and miss u. he wants u to take a chance to live ur life away from gotham, away from that burden.

he tells u: robin is never truly gone, alright? it’ll never leave. i need u to trust me that it’ll still be u no matter how many other kids wear the cape. i need u to trust that i love u more than what ur able to do in tights.

and he knows this better than anyone. he’s asking u to extricate tim drake from robin and batman and red robin. to remember what it felt like to choose. and after all these years u can’t say no, so u pack ur bags and leave for the west coast.

college is fine. u keep changing majors. u pick up photography as a joke, thinking about snapping photos of the boy wonder from a distance, to print in the basement dark room after school. it’s a laugh, and ur gonna drop it until donna troy finds out, and u spend a long time on the roof of the tower with her taking photos of the sunrise. it’s been a while since the sunrise was the start of ur day. it feels….. unfamiliar. she tells u about how ur brother became nightwing. she tells u about the heartbreak of having to move on. she tells u about choices.

kon’s right down the hall. he can hear u but u can’t hear him, so sometimes you’ll whisper a question for him to shout back. he obligingly poses for ur still life class. he and steph make fun of how u can’t decide what to study. it’s painful to become tim drake and nothing else again, but it happens in increments. u make friends with people in ur tutoriasl. ur less pale — u pinken under the sun easily, peeling flesh turning red and painful, but u look less like a corpse. ur hair is longer, and bart buys u a claw clip shaped like an avocado.

the new robin is growing up, and he explains colour theory to u for one of ur classes. he’s an asshole, but he’s trying. when asked politely, he draws character sheets for bart’s dnd group with minimal grumbling. red and yellow suit him, and looking at him in the costume feels less painful, and more nostalgic.

u brainstorm new ideas for urself, new roles, new ideas for the team, but there’s no rush. u have time. if u see bruce, u kno there’s someone else at his back, watching him through the night. dick texts u life updates, but they’re funny, not desperate. the world continues to spin. u, tim drake, are still alive.

#sorry this is truly just word vomit #tim drake #robin #red robin #dc comics #teen titans #ty for all the asks I got immediately everyone!!!!!!! v v appreciated #OOG!! ily rimi hehehehe #the ask and the answer

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tainted-heartz · 1 year

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HEYYEEEYEY ITS MYSTERY PERSON AGAIN (yk at this point its always a wally x reader🧍‍♀️ANYWAYS-)

Ok so what if it was another sunrise (again😔) Y/N WAKES UP AND OPENS THERE EYES AND SAW THAT WALLY WAS A HUAMN AND SHOOK WALLY AWAKE "WALLY WAKE TF UP" SO they (*cough*finally*cough*)woke wally up and he was confused like "mf I love you but it's 6 IN THE MOR-" then he saw y/n as a puppet AND look down at his hands to see that he was human and was like "istg ima kill someon-" BUT FINALLY THEY BOTH CALM DOWN AND GET READY FOR THE DAY AND THEY TRY TO TEACH EACHOTHER HOW THE HUMAN/PUPPET BODY WORKS AND ECT, AND ALSO LWTS JUST SAY WALLY WAS (finally 😥) TALLER THEN Y/N!!

(Also another sence that wally puts y/n on a high place where they couldn't get down he walked away whistling and while y/n on the other hand was cussing wally out telling him to put her down👁👁 also the neighborhood heard y/n yelling)

| THIS IS A SILLY IDEA DEAR LORD U KEEP GIVING ME SILLY IDEAS AND I LOVE IT MYSTERIOUS PERSON THIS IS GONNA BE A LIL LONG SO ENJOY!!(and once again using an older image of wallys human ver clown made) |

- it was a normal morning , or well at least you thought till you sat up and stretched. your body felt more..plush like? you shrugged it off till when you looked at wally he was human. that wasn't normal , of course it wasn't- you sat there for a minute before gently shaking wally. “ wally. wally darling wake UP. ” wally mumbled and swatted your hand away. “ dearest , I need my beauty sleep why are you bugging me at such an early hou- ” as he turned to look at you well..you weren't how he remembered you looked before. he hoped this was a dream till you spoke again. “ a-..and you're human as well. oh god why me of all people! ” you hopped out of bed only to fall RIGHT on your face.

- wally panicked and slowly sat up and made his way over to you to help you up. “ dearest , I may have to tell you that puppet bodies just feel lighter..you have to get used to it. ” “ how are you so calm about this! you're TALLER than me now it's not even fair! ” “ oh it's very much fair..I'm in denial. ” he said with a smile. “ plus this may be a one day thing , like a small curse you could say. just curious why it has to be us. ” wally said as he lifted you up off the ground. “ wally , I'm not a baby. ”

- “ oh but dearest you'll walk around like a newborn if I let you walk around anymore till we get ready. ” he sat at his vanity , placing you down on his lap. “ we can get ready like this. ” this was almost humiliating but you guessed this is how wally felt the various times you'd picked him up and even embarrassed him. you can't tell how wally felt about being human but you could tell he was still getting used to not feeling light.

- “ ..you look very different , dearest. it's not a terrible strange I just can't help how your hair looks now. ” wally said with giggle as he looked down at you. “ oh shut up , at least mine doesn't look like a cinnamon roll. ” you rolled your eyes and reached over to grab your hairbrush but every time you brushed it or tried to style it , it would just pop right back into place. after a few attempts you merely gave up on styling your hair and watched wally style his.

- “ puppet hair isn't the same as human hair , y/n. I hope you're aware. ” “ I am now. ” you mumbled and were lifted up and held again as wally stood up. “ oh well..you can pick out your outfit and such for the day. I need to see what it's like to eat. ” he placed you down and left you to your own devices.. of course he'd go see what it's like to eat normally.

- you were getting used to walking by now , a few stumbles here and there but once you were in the living room you didn't see wally about anywhere. you felt like a damned parent having to look after their child. “ wally , where did you even go? ” “ kitchen , dear. ” peeking into the kitchen you noticed he was just..sitting there and reading a newspaper. it was weird how he wasn't acting like anything was different. he'd even changed into his normal attire without your knowledge. “ oh and dearest , you sadly can't eat. we don't really have stomachs. ” “ you don't have teeth either , of COURSE I CANT EAT! ” “ don't raise your voice or I'll put you in time out. ” “ time OUT? oh I'd love to see you try- ”

- wally placed the newspaper down and grabbed you by your waist , lifting you off the ground. you squirmed but were placed on top of the fridge , wally just smiling at you. “ now I won't let being a human stop me from finishing that painting poppy wanted..love you dearest! ” “ IF YOU LOVED ME YOU WOULDN'T LEAVE ME UP HE- and you're gone. cool. ” you sigh then resorted to talking with home. “ ..home , can you irritate him for me? ” squeakkkk. “ thank you. ” it was enjoyable to hear wally yell about his paint spilling but knowing you'd have to stay this way for the rest of the day wasn't too bad. you hoped at least.

#welcome home arg #welcome home #welcome home x reader #welcome home arg x reader #wally darling #wally darling x reader #welcome home wally #welcome home wally x reader

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redbleedingrose · 11 months

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Bat Boys x Reader Part 2

uhhh, just for you @augustinerose

18+ but its fluff and unedited and not very good

but Rhysand x reader x Cassian x Azriel

and a possible part 3.......

It isn’t the rays of light from the morning sunrise that barely peak in through the sheer curtains that flutter into the bedroom by the push of the remnants of the night breeze that wake me, but the low creek in the door that is pulled open. Standing in the doorway, Rhysand leans into the wooden siding, violet eyes sweeping over the tangled mess of his three mates' naked bodies. The poor male had been kept away from our… activities due to trouble down the southern border related to the uprising in Autumn Court, working with Eris to overthrow the very last supporters of Beron, who had died due to “unknown” causes. Rumors in the Autumn Court pointed towards the devastating plague of faes or a tragic accident. No one knew, really, that it was by order of Rhys that Azriel had worked with Eris to ambush Beron during one of his famous solo hunting trips to end his long, tyrannic life. My sleep-addled eyes ran over his form, he looked tired, exhausted even, but content. His usually perfect midnight hair was tousled, no doubt from his hands running through it all night, violet eyes glinting with starlight with a couple of dark circles standing out against his tan skin. He was beautiful.

Finally, his eyes caught mine, a tired smile pulled at his face. His tattooed hands were hidden deep in his pockets when he left his position against the doorframe, strolling over to the bed in a slow, unhurried pace, feet padding against the marble floors that were probably freezing from the night before, “Good morning Darling,” a gentle voice rasped in my mind, allowing for Az and Cass to continue to sleep in, the later softly snoring into my hair. It was rare they chose to, opting to get their early morning training in despite my pleading to keep me warm. Azriel’s shadows swirled around us, curling around Rhysand trousers up his firm trunk and corded shoulders, urging the male towards the tangled cocoon we had formed late last night after Cassian took my cunt, spilling into me with a warm flood at the same time the spymaster rooted his hand around my throat, feeling me swallow his climax as he used my throat.

I hummed back, too tired to respond verbally, eyes fluttering shut when he finally reached the bed. Azriel's eyes shot open at the sudden rustling of the bed sheets, Cass continuing to snore in a deep sleep, visibly relaxing when he saw that it was his missing mate finally joining us. He raised his arm, wing spreading out so Rhys could snuggle into the side of his chest that wasn’t occupied by me, wrapping his arm around the high lords shoulder, stroking his marred skin up and down the heavily tattooed arm, pulling him closer to us and sighing when Rhys brought his hand up to my hand that had been resting on Az’s chest, interlocking digits together while his violet eyes glimmered with the obvious display of love. Eventually, Cassian, still fast asleep, had brought his wing up, covering all four of us beneath the warm leather, lulling the two most stressed males in the night court into a sleepy daze at the very beginning of the day. It didn’t take Az as long as it took Rhys, who fought a valiant battle to stay awake, but eventually, both of their breathing slowed into a beautiful rhythm that matched between all four mates, limbs entangling even further before their eyes fluttered shut, hiding away the deepest amethysts and burning embers that I so loved till we would wake.

#rose writes #acotar #acotar fanfic #acotar drabble #acotar bat boys #bat boys acotar #bat boys x reader #reader x bat boys #rhysand x reader x azriel x cassian #cassian x reader #rhysand x reader #azriel x reader #azriel acotar #rhysand acotar #cassian acotar

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nerdylilpeebee · 2 months

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I am not one to put myself into discourse but I really need to explain something to you,

As a Palestinian you need to understand that Hamas aren't killing babies, those 40 Israeli babies were made up, this had been confirmed over and over again. Palestine is older then Israel, Isreal only started existing after WW2, Palestinian's welcomed them but we're faced with Starvation,genocide, rape and bombing in return.

It is currently Ramadan, a time of fasting from sunrise till sundown, yet they have no food nor water to have before this period.

13,000 innocent children have died. Over 300+ not even making it to their first birthday. Girls and woman are experiencing periods and pregnancy without proper supplies. Isreal is not struggling, they have received over 300+ billion dollars in support from the U.S.A alone. You're ignorance isn't some "I'm better and different" stunt. You are actively supporting the death of entire bloodlines and families.

Don't you dare pull "Well, what if their Hamas" Isreal has proved they can bomb a specific room to kill them. This isn't about Hamas, Isreal is wiping out entire families, lives, homes, etc.

They're killing innocent animals too.

To put this in your shoes, imagine if you were bombed, raped and tortured, not knowing if you were going to make it to the next day, you're being starved. Whilst media is actively supporting your nightmare, funding it, even.

Before you pull the Hamas card on me, I have been raised with Western media and in America. I find myself lucky for this even though my people are struggling.

Please, scroll through pro-Palestine tags without bringing your opinion into the matter to see what is going on. I beg.

No, honey, actually it wasn't disproven. The people who tried said "yeah, babies were beheaded, but it wasn't 40 of them." XD

Palestine is not older than Israel. There are references to Israel in the Torah, which is older than Islam. And no, the Palestinians did not "welcome Israel". XD that is blatantly false.

And really? So tell me, why do they know for sure these 13k kids have died but can't name how many of their hostages are alive? Please explain that to me. How is that possible?

Okay? Israel not struggling doesn't mean anything. XD Being weak and having your government steal the billions in foreign aid to make themselves rich does not make a war against you a genocide.

I'm not supporting the deaths of anybody, and It is 100% about Hamas, Israel literally sends warnings in an effort to avoid civilian casualties. Even if Hamas isn't lying (incredibly unlikely) they have killed less than most wars have in the modern era.

Even if I was in their shoes, honey, I wouldn't want people siding with my oppressors because westerners decided the terrorists who'd murder me for speaking against them and consider everyone I know and love to be martyrs they're happy to sacrifice are resistance fighters. And hell, there are Palestinians who hold this very stance, who knows that Hamas is the fucking problem not Israel, westerners like you just ignore them.

You were raised in America and with western media? Cool. Doesn't change that you're falling for propaganda. XD being raised in the West does not make you immune to propaganda.

And no, I will not let idiots spread misinformation, and I will not let them villainize the Jews because Israel is actually defending itself when terrorists attack them and kidnap their people instead of laying down and dying.

I have paid plenty of attention to what's happening, including from the Pro-Pal side, I just happen to know terrorists aren't the good guys just cuz they play to people's sympathy and use their own people as human shields to make Israel look like the villain.

Just cuz it didn't lead me to agree with you doesn't mean I haven't been exposing myself to Pro-Pal talking points and "evidence."

#tvp discourse #long post #israel #arab israeli conflict #hamas #gaza

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occasionally-good-ideas · 1 year

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Amity Park

It’s been three years since the portal opened in amity, and since then the people have changed. ‘Liminal’ is what most people call it ‘death touched’ has also been thrown around. It made the people, the kids mostly, different, faster, stronger, higher endurance, almost silent, sensitive hearing.

to them it was normal, and besides! being able to run full speed for long distances was useful when your town was constantly under attack, and extra strength and agility is great for games!

Ever since the town got yoinked into the ghost zone amity’s had its own electricity and plumbing systems, the world outside the town doesn’t hear from the folks inside, and the people inside just don’t need to talk to outsiders, what would they even talk about anyway?? School? They don’t have ghosts, or the same standards! The weather?? ‘Hey did you feel that ecto-storm last night? I couldn’t sleep till it died down at 4!!’ Nope, definitely not the weather.

But this isolation forged a close community in the town, they were all in this together and they all knew it. Working parents, little kids and rebellious teens, when it came down to it they all had each others backs

The teens ecpetionaly bonded through CHAOS!! Pranks and sceems targeted at each other and the mayor, games of Extreme Tag (which was like a mix of tag, parkour, and the occasional gun) were the norm for the youth of amity park.

Shouting and laughter followed them as the kids ran up walls, across rooftops and through the streets and alleys of amity. For normal kids they would tire themselves out in three hours TOPS, but this is Amity, and the kids here are anything but normal. A single game could go from sunrise to sunset without even a water break, ‘if you’re thirsty get water. Just don’t get caught’ and who would back down from a challenge like that??

One summer they decided to do their own version of the hunger games, half in the woods on the outskirts of town and all through the streets, it was all fair game.

They built their own bases, going home was forfeiting, from holes in the ground to multi story lairs of wood and rubble. Food was foraged or stolen, if you got caught? Youre out, if you got tagged with paint (or otherwise incapacitated) you’re out. trust at your own risk. it goes till the last man standing.

Friendships were made and broken, old enemies became trusted allies, teens found love in the heart of battle and even more found the thrill of the hunt, the satisfaction of seeing your enemy fall and emerging victorious in the face of all odds.

It went on for a straight month before the parents had to band together to bring their kids home.

The Games were over, but no one forgot them, the high of adrenaline and Victory was one they could chase, and in the case of the towns sports coaches, one they could profit from.

The Amity Park Ravens became infamous for their endurance, their strength and speed, but mostly, their bloodlust, they were ruthless. Word of them spread through schools like a legend, the unbeatable, almost inhuman nature of them.

Outside of games they were always easy going and good sports about the competition, but on the field? Where Outsiders had to face off against dozens of amity parkers dead set on victory?

They were only whispered of with one name.

The Unkindness

TLDR- amity park kids take competition WAY too seriously and they end up scaring the shit out of the whole public school sports program

They also did a diy hunger games and I WILL read anything anyone makes about that bit (please tag me)

#liminal amity park #danny phantom #feral kids finally going apeshit #writing prompt #I found out a group of ravens is called an ‘unkindness’#and I NEEDED to make that a thing #the Hunger Games thing was a historical amity event #they call it The Games and reference it regularly

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fantastic-nonsense · 2 years

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the thing that gets me is that Bruce never actually knows how Jason died

he knows the bare bones and that's it: he knows that Jason saw his mother going into the warehouse, and he knows he left Jason there while he ran off to chase down the truck (while telling him to take no action until he got back), and he knows that Jason somehow still ended up in that warehouse anyway, beaten and bloody and blown up by the Joker...but he actually has no idea how or why Jason went inside. He never finds out about Sheila; they're buried next to each other in Gotham Cemetery, and you know he never would have done that if he'd known the truth.

like...who's going to tell Bruce the gory details of his son's last hours? Sheila, who died in Bruce's arms before she could say much other than that Jason was a good boy who threw himself in between her and the bomb in an attempt to make sure she lived? Jason, who was already dead (and then a vegetable and then on the streets and then with Talia)? The Joker, who has little reason to say anything and was presumed dead after the UN Incident anyway?

Who tells Bruce that his son was tricked by his birth mother and then died to save her anyway? Who tells Bruce that Sheila's trickery is the reason Jason ended up in that warehouse, that she told him it was safe and that the Joker was long gone? Who tells Bruce that she pulled a gun on her own son? Who tells Bruce that she watched and turned her head away and smoked while her son was beaten mercilessly with a crowbar? Who tells Bruce that she only showed actual remorse after the Joker double-crossed her and tied her up too? Who tells Bruce that Jason tried to save her anyway, dragging himself on broken bones and borrowed time to untie her when he could have been selfish and saved himself? Who tells Bruce that Jason was a good son and a good man who acted like the hero he was till the very end and it still wasn't enough to save him?

Bruce goes home and grieves and buries his kid and nearly kills the Joker at the UN and puts up a memorial case and starts using Jason as a cautionary tale about recklessness because in his mind, it's the only thing he can do. He told Jason to wait. Jason went into the warehouse anyway. He doesn't know why. He doesn't know how. Those are the only two facts he knows (the only two facts that he'll ever know, since Jason's certainly not willing to tell him once he comes back to Gotham as Red Hood).

So much about how Jason's death is treated in the aftermath of Death in the Family is fucked up, but the fact that there will forever be a gap in Bruce's knowledge of Jason's final hours because it's basically impossible for Bruce to know what happened is just excrutiating. He's left to make his own conclusions about what happened...because neither Jason nor Sheila are alive to tell him differently. And that changes the calculus in really awful and tragic ways.

Bruce blamed himself (not Jason) for years because of that gap before writers started victim-blaming Jason for his own death, but even then that ignorance of his son's final hours hurts because he's left to make his own conclusions and there's never a right answer: if he hadn't tried to bench Jason in the first place, would he still be here? If he'd stopped the truck and doubled back faster, would Jason have had a chance? If he'd stayed and gone into the warehouse with him, would they both have made it? If he'd just forced the issue and brought Jason with him, would his son still be alive?

And he doesn't have an answer, and so Jason becomes a cautionary tale to Tim and Cass about being careful and cautious and following orders (even if neither of them really ever listen). Because if he couldn't save Jason, his death can at least serve a purpose beyond the yawning chasm of grief that threatens to choke him every morning he wakes up and remembers that his son is dead, that he'll never see another sunrise or finish high school or sit in the manor library with him poring over homework again. His son is dead and it's his fault, and that's all Bruce will ever see.

#dc comics #jason todd #bruce wayne #sheila haywood #death in the family #jason todd meta #bruce wayne meta #everyone wake up I'm in my cups about Jason's death again #my attempt to wring sense from canon's victim-blaming of Jason for his own death

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rhey-007 · 9 months

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Helios - Chapter 1

Father!Homelander x daughter!reader (platonic)

Summary: A fatherless girl finally meets with him after her mother's death. Little does she know that from this point on, her life will fall apart. She'd meet a lot of new, interesting and disgusting people and experience a lot of traumatizing events. Will she be able to choose the right side and take control of her own fate?

Warnings: violence, overpowered reader with mental weaknesses, family fluff

A/N: Rreader is 15 here so that makes Homelander around 33, just so you know. I made Homelander a naturally born supe. His mother died while giving birth so he was raised by his grandparents, his father was just a one night stand (still soldier boy). It's not really mentioned in the fic though so I thought I should explain it here how it is possible that him and reader's mother met when they were teens.

Helios - God of sun.

Wordcount: 4073

Masterlist

‧͙⁺˚*･༓🔅 🔅༓･*˚⁺‧͙

Chapter 1: Sunrise

Your mother was once in love with a wonderful boy, who wasn’t interested in girls, but her... Oh... she was his whole world, his sunshine. He would’ve done everything for her, even kill... He was just perfect. Soft blonde hair your mother liked to play with, ocean blue eyes she found herself lost in so many times, big smile with white, shining teeth, strong body and... super powers, the only thing she didn’t really like... Everything that later became your curse. They were still teens when Alice got pregnant. She had no idea how that happened as she took pills and always made your father use condoms. Maybe it was because of his powers – she thought. Maybe his sperm was just so strong... She had no idea. Even though she knew your father loved her, Allice was till afraid to tell him, afraid that he would run away, that he would hurt you... And unfortunately she was right... One day the pair was ona a walk in the forest, enjoying their time, talking and laughing happily when your mother’s stomach started to hurt beyond endurance. It worried the boy and he ultrasounded her belly after placing her down under a tree. What he saw terrified and angried him. He was furious, thinking she cheated on him, as he believed he was sterile because of his powers. The boy had no control of himself in that moment and attacked your mother before she has managed to explain, throwing her back. Her back hit a tree, and another one, and another. Every one of them breaking until she lost the speed and collapsed unconscious under one of them. It was only then that your father understood what he had just ddone that he hurt his sunshine. Frightened by it he didn’t even check if she was alive and fled, leaving the two of you alone. He later forgot about you, but he never did about your mother. His first and last true love...

Your mother told you this story on her deathbed. You didn’t know why yet, but you appreciated it later. You already knew then that the all mighty Homelander was your father, she told you and you didn’t believe at first. But when she showed you their photos and compared your powers, you believed. You watched her die of breast cancer when you were 15. You were scared of your fate but soon a strange woman walked into your life, like a guardian angel. Her name was Madelyn Stillwell, the head of an organisation called Vought, and she offered to take care of you. You weren’t sure at first but you had no better option than that. The woman took you to the Vought Tower, where you met the seven. Well... actually six as one of them was departed on a mission. You quickly became friends with The Deep and Queen Maeve, and the team welcomed you in warmly. You even got your own room there, which wasn’t in some basement nor was some kind of a laboratory as you would’ve expected. No, it was a nice, teenage friendly room. Almost the same as the one you had back home. To your surprise, almost all your stuff was there too.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓🔅 🔅༓･*˚⁺‧͙

A few days passed when you finally had a chance to meet the seventh and most important member of the seven – your father, Homelander. You were ordered to join him in the meeting room after the group finished their meeting.

‘’H-Hi... dad...’’

You whispered as you slowly and hesitantly enetred the room. The man had his back turned to you, hands behind his back as he watched the town. You could already see that he was strong and powerful, just by his posture. When he heard your voice he turned around rapidly, scaring you a little. You didn’t have to say anything more for the man to recognise you.

‘’Alice?...’’

The man asked soon. You looked so much like your mother for him, although you thought otherwise. You looked like his younger, female twin. You were perfect, just as he was. That’s also why you were successful with boys, which pissed you off if you had to be honest. You looked down sadly at your mother’s name, tears filling your eyes as you remembered everything about her. You didn’t mean to cry on your first encounter but there you we’re, standing in front of the allmighty Homelander sobbing your eyes out. John noticed your sad expression and walked up to you. His hand found it’s way to your chin and slowly pulled it up, making you look at his face with a soft smile.

‘’Don’t cry little one... You still got me...’’

The man was suprised when you threw yourself at him, embracing him in a hug and letting tears fall down your cheeks and soak his costume. He didn’t complain though, he was just happy to have his Alice back in some way. He hugged you back, rubbing your back to calm you down. Soon you pulled away and wiped your eyes.

„Sorry... „

You mumbled unable to look him in the eyes.

„It's okay... Look at me”

His voice was soft yet still firm. When you finally looked up at your father, you could see the hurt in his yes, just as he could in yours. He missed Alice every day since he left. The man even tried to kill himself in the first weeks as he couldn’t live with the thought that he might have killed her. Then, Vogelbaum found him, like a guardian angel, just as Madelyn found you, and helped him come out of misery. He made him even stronger than he was. Even madder... Even crazier... Which you had no idea about yet. After a short while you broke the silence with a soft laugh as you couldn’t hold it in anymore. John doing the same, his white teeth were just as shining as your mother described them to be.

‘’Okay, enough of this sadness. Let’s go and check out if you’ll kick your old man’s ass, shall we?’’

He smiled brightly down at you and offered you his arm which you took happily and soon the two of you left to the training area.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓🔅 🔅༓･*˚⁺‧͙

You watched as Queen Maeve fought some guys. She looked so flawless, graceful, beautiful. Homelander's tap on your shoulder shook you out of trance.

„Margaret! I assume you already know my little ray of sunshine, Y/N? „

You walked up to the woman after she finished, your father's arm wrapped around you as he led you towards the ginger.

„Of course I do! We've been spending every dinner break together for the past few days. Still can't believe she's yours though”

The woman said with a chuckle, earning a soft, displeased frown from the blonde.

„Yeah... Anyway... I wanna check if she's as strong as her daddy. Mind helping us? „

Homelander asked with a toothy grin. Maeve nodded obediently and lined up several mannequins while your father positioned you at the other end of the room.

„Wh-what am I supposed to do exactly? „

You asked nervously fidgeting with your fingers. You barely used your powers after an unfortunate incident in primary school. You would never forget about that terror...

„Easy, just use your lasers. You should have them”

„Oh... U-um... I... I-I don't know how to use them... „

You whispered afraid, your body shrinking in his embrace. The man looked down confused and tightened his grip.

„What do you mean. Don't. Know? „

He hissed, making you scared even more.

„Well... I-I don't use my powers... Especially lasers... They just come out in random moments... Usually when I'm angry... And I don't control it at all... „

You explained while looking down.

„Then we'll teach you! „

Homelander's demeanour changed quickly and now he was all happy and smiling again – you had to admit his smile was terrifying and you had no idea how your mother fell for it. His happiness was caused by the fact thet he was excited you would be able to do all the father-daughter activities, just in a different version. After a tiring lesson you collapsed under the wall your father threw you on.

„John! Oh my god Y/N, are you okay?! „

Margaret scolded the man and run up to you. You just nodded while breathing heavily. Nothing happened to you thought, as you were indestructible just as them, and a little bit more.

„I'm okay... Just have enough... For the rest of my life... „

You breathed out with a smile and earned a soft giggle from the Queen. She picked you up bridal style and shot Homelander a furious look.

„Come on! She’ll be fine! . I didn’t even use half my strength! „

Homelander huffed. He expected you to be perfect from the start, but it turned out you weren’t. He was disappointed. You on the other hand, didn’t care about it at all. You weren’t going to become a superhero just as your father, it was never your thing, it never excited you. The fact that you could fight and defend yourself was enough.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓🔅 🔅༓･*˚⁺‧͙

Maeve took you to your room, placed on the bed and sat down beside you. She brushed her fingers against your bruises with a heavy sigh.

‘’I told him to go easy on you...’’

She mumbled. You found yourself really attached to Margaret after just a few days of your stay there. She reminded you of your mom, both had ginger hair and a beautiful smile, so you weren’t much surprised when you discovered she and John were a thing. You nuzzled into her hand when it met your cheek and said after closing your eyes.

‘’Don’t worry, they’ll disappear in few minutes’’

‘’They will?’’

Queen asked confused which made your eyes fly open.

‘’Yeah... I-Is it weird?...’’

‘’Oh no, no! It’s just that... John heals like a normal human, so I thought you did too. But good to know you’re not his exact copy’’

Both of you smiled at yourself after her words. You actually were glad you weren’t 1:1 with Homelander. Maeve on the other hand started to feel that deep down you were almost nothing like him, that you were stronger... Way stronger... And it wasn’t a good sign, for both you and Homelander. He could go nuts if he realized that and he could hurt you, as there could only be one strongest supe and it was him...

‧͙⁺˚*･༓🔅 🔅༓･*˚⁺‧͙

After a few months of extreme trening sessions later, you were finally able to control your powers. It made Homelander proud of his baby. It was also the time when you could finally go back to a normal school instead of being homeschooled. You had enough of staying all day in the tower, having to deal with the childish behaviour of Deep and A-Train, and constant fear of accidentally seeing Translucent naked. But Homelander was afraid to let you go. He was scared that if you went back to school you would find some stupid friends that would keep you away from him and that you wouldn’t like to spend time with him anymore. All of that wasn’t true, you could never do that to him as first of all - he was your father and second – he tried his best to be a great father, sure it didn’t work well all the time, but he still tried! And you felt attached to him anyway.

The man insisted on taking you there himself, he wanted to be there for your first day as a father should. But Madelyn categorically forbade him it - obviously. Although Homelander was too stubborn to listen to her and started to plan a way to be there. Then it was your job to talk him out of it.

‘’Dad...’’

You sighed tiredly as you watched John make a tenth circle around your room while discussing the plan. He had you gone in the first half.

‘’DAD’’

You had to repeat as the man didn’t notice you call him. Eventually you got up from your bed and shouted, only then taking him out of the trance.

‘’DAD! Ugh... I know you want to be there for me but the world is not ready to find out you have a child! Thye would think that if they had no idea of you beeing married, then presumably divorced, that means that I AM a child from a filthy romance without marriage AND sex before merriage, which all is a what? A SIN. Think about it! Besides... I don’t want kids in school constantly asking me about you. Not because I’m ashamed of you –because I’m not. But because it would be so tiring and I don’t want to be always compared to you and asked to do all that crazy supe stuff that obviously I CAN'T do... I just want to be a normal teenager... Please...’’

You took a deep breath after your little speech and looked at Homelander with hopeful eyes. He had to admit you got him in the first half. And you knew that. You knew that well, that’s also why you used the church argument. John let out a deep sigh then plopped down onto your bed.

‘’If that’s what you want...’’

You could see the sadness in your father’s eyes and hear it in his voice. God damn it. Why did he always had to play the sad card!? You sat down next to him and hugged his side.

‘’I promise I’ll make as many photos I’ll be able to and we’ll watch them together later. Okay?’’

‘’Okay’’

Homelander smiled down at you and placed a soft kiss to your head.

When the day came, Homelander made sure you had eveyrthing prepared. He packed your backpack the day before when you were asleep. He put there all important stuff and hid a note for you to find later. He even made you lunch himself! Maeve was really proud of him for that. You two also picked an appriopriate outfit the day before. It was a warm, olive green sweater with loose beige pants and your black sneakers. It screamed perfect. The man kissed your head goodbye and after a long and tight hug let you finally leave. He acted as if you were going away for good, but it was just a few hours of school! You never thought he could be so dramatic.

The day went by smoothly, at least for you. John on the other hand, sat in the meeting room all day, looking at the city and waiting for you to come back like a puppy. A few hours later you came back to catch your father asleep on his chair. You giggled at his ability to act like a stereotypical father after just a few months of your aquiantance. You left the meeting room quietly to soon come back with your blanket.

‘’Didn’t mean to wake you up’’

You said softly with a smile as you noticed him awake.

‘’You’re finally back. How was it?’’

John asked with a huge smile which you reciprocated. You sat down on his lap and showed him all the pictures you made, and there were a lot of them just like you promised. It took you so long that by the time you finished it was dark and you laid half asleep in Homelander’s embrace. The minute the man noticed your state he took you to your room and put in bed, wrapping in the blanket you wanted to give him earlier and placing a kiss to your forehead.

‘’Sleep good my little Helios’’

‧͙⁺˚*･༓🔅 🔅༓･*˚⁺‧͙

As the years passed you’ve spend less and less time with your father, because he noticed you getting stronger than him with every training. As much as his heart ached he could not let that happen, so he thought it would be the best. You didn’t like it at all either. You hated how he ignored you every time you tried to talk to him, or needed help in any way. You hated how he saw it normal to push his own daughter away just because some stupid powers! But you aslo hated yourself, your powers, and the fact that because of you him and Queen Maeve broke up. Even though Margaret assured you it’s not your fault you knew better. She always took your side which led to multiple quarrels with Homelander and eventual breakup.

At some point you started to rebel. To cause trouble. To stick your nose in where you were not wanted. That’s how you fathomed out the truth about Vought and your father. It didn’t devastate you - as you knew that such a big corporation had to have some dirt under their nalis – but the part about your father saddened you. You could’ve never thought he could kill anyone one... He was a SUPERHERO after all. But it turns out that he was just a super liar just like the rest of the seven. They have killed so many people... They were montsers... One day you stole the important files from the Vought’s databse and fled out of it. You didn't know why you did that. Maybe because you wanted the whole world to know but your hands were unable to post the photos you’ve made. When the seven notticed your disappearance they informed Madelyn and Homelander and only then did he remembered about your existance. He was the first one to start looking for you, but the one who found you was no other than Queen Maeve. She knew the secret place you went to after school when you wanted to be alone and went there in the first place. And she was right. You sat there, in the middle of an abandoned warehouse, clutching onto the cases and crying your eyes out. Your head snapped hearing the woman’s footsteps and got up quickly.

‘’Leave me alone’’

You hissed, your whole body trembling. Margaret noticed the files in your hands and understood why you’ve run away.

‘’Helios please... I-I know it looks bad but-’’

‘’BUT WHAT?! ALL THOSE DEATHS WERE JUST ACCIDENTS?!’’

You cut her off angrily, your voice shaking like crazy.

‘’YOU’RE JUST GLORIFIED MONSTERS THAT THINK THEY CAN DO EVERYTHING THEY WANT JUST BECASUE YOU HAVE SOME STUPID ASS POWERS! BOTH YOU AND THAT MOTHERFUCKER! HELL- ALL SEVEN OF YOU!’’

Your shouts could be heard from miles away, so it was to be expected that Homelander heard you, especially when he was so sensitive to your voice. It didn’t take him long to storm through the ceiling.

‘’Ugh great... Only you were missed here... Why do you suddenly care about ME! ‘’

‘’Because you’re my daughter and I worry about you’’

The blonde gritted out making you laugh stupidly.

‘’OH REALLY?! Then why do you pretend like I don’t exist! You’ve been ignoring me for such a long time!... You don’t care about me... You just don’t want anyone knowing about this... „

You waved your hand with the files.

‘’You’re just a stupid, egoist that only cares about himself and not the good of the people he is supposed to safe. It’s your only fucking job and you fuck it up too! You should not wear that cape just to stain it with blood of innocent... You should not wear that false patriotic mask if you do shit like that... AND YOU SHOULD NOT COMPARE YOURSELF TO GOD BECAUSE YOU’RE JUST A STUPID PUPPE-’’

You were cut of by Homelander’s hand meeting your stomach. He crushed you into a wall then gripped your neck tightly. You wriggled in his grip, trying to catch a breath, your hands clawing at his and begging for relief.

‘’How dare you disrespect me like that... I made you... You wouldn’t be alive nor so strong without me. You should be grateful I haven’t killed your mother’’

Homelander had no idea what came over him. He would never disrespect his love yet now it seemed as if he regretted not killing her – which wasn’t true. Something snapped inside of you at the mention of your deceased mother. The blood in your vains started to boil and you could feel it flow like crazy. You frowned furiously.

‘’I would prefer to DIE than to be recognised as your daughter’’

You spat on his face, making him loosen his grip on you and earning a few second for payback. You kicked him away with such force that his back met the wall at the other end of the warehouse.

‘’If you want to kill me so much, why don’t give it a try now, huh oldman?’’

Homelander gritted his teeth, he hated the alias, he wasn’t that old. He didn’t want to kill you, no... He loved you, you were his baby after all. But he also couldn’t let you go knowing their dirty secrets. It was too much to proces in such a short time but the man had no other option... A devilish smirk was painted on your face as you quickly met him there and proceeded to crush him into the brick wall. You’ve done it for a couple seconds but John was unfased. He chuckled at your attempts on hurting him, though his face seemed unmoved. Soon when he felt bored he grabbed your wrists and threw you to the floor. Now it was his turn to punch the shit out of you. If not Maeve he would get you knocked down after just 3 punches. The woman pushed him away and stood in front of you, protecting you like a mother would protect her child.

‘’She’s your daughter!’’

She cried out trying to mess with his head. But he knew well to not fall to her traps, especially since they've been through it so many times already.

‘’Which is why it’s not your fucking bussiness!”

You’ve watched as Margaret fell unconscious to the ground after Homelander threw her to the sky.

'’What have I done...’’

You thought, tears falling down your cheeks as you thought he killed her. Killed her because of you. The man made his way over to you and gripped your blonde hair tightly. He made you sat up and look up at him.

‘’Now you gonna cry? I thought you were as strong as me. Hell! Even stronger! But it turns out you’re just a weak and cheap copy. You’re pathetic...”

He hissed and tried to laser your head off but you’ve manage to accumulate the remaining strength and reciprocate the act. Your lasers met with a loud hiss. In that moment you remebered all the happy memories from your life, as you prepared yourself for death. But it backfired, bringing you even more power than you’ve ever had. You rose to you feet and got your hair out of John’s grip, all while not breaking eyecontact and still using the heat vision. He felt you overpower him. It terrified him and he couldn’t let you defeat him. The man used all his strength making you do the same. Both your visions were so strong that soon sparks started to appear and the force pushed you away from each other. But neither gave up, giving all you’ve got. The hall started to feel warmer with every second making you realize something was wrong, yet before you noticed it was too late. Your laser visions caused an explosion and the whole warehouse blew up into the sky. You stood there, numb in the falling dust looking at the remainings of the building. Neither Homelander nor Queen Maeve were nowhere to find. They must’ve been burried under the concrete. To your surprise you quickly found Margaret and dug her out. She was alive. A smiled formed on your face as you watched the woman breath heavily. She was still unconscious and a little bruised, but she was alive. You couldn’t care less about your father thought. You stood up from where you knelt next to the ginger and looked around once more. In that moment you’ve decided it was time to disappear. To play ‘dead’ and never ever come back as Homelander’s daughter.

It was the end of a chapter.

But just a begining of your story...

‧͙⁺˚*･༓🔅 🔅༓･*˚⁺‧͙

A/N: If you made it here, here you go 🍬🍭. You deserve it. Thanks so much for reading, I hope you liked it! 💞

Next Chapter

#homelander x reader #the boys #the boys fanfic #homelander #homelander fanfiction #superhero #family #fluff

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consumed-by-fandom · 9 months

Text

Chapter 4 of Till The Sunrise Dies is out! Setting down ground rules and immediately struggling to implement them, yahoo.

This has been the only chapter so far where I’ve been kind of nervous about if it’s any good, so feedback is always welcome. I’m excited for the future chapters though, I’ve got a lot more faith in them ^^

Convenient link is convenient:

#postal #postal dude #TTSD updates #Till The Sunrise Dies #fanfic

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spikedhe4rt · 1 year

Note

Can you please write nightmare comfort with johnny where reader dreams about johnny dying and johhny comforts reader?

Johnny x Reader Fluff

Word Count: 587

"Johnny!?" I yelled into the pure darkness surrounding me. "Johnny, please!" I close my eyes, trying to escape this repetitive reality. Suddenly, I see a light flash 7 feet away, making me snap out of my trance. It was Johnny. I tried to run to him but I couldn't move. I screamed over and over but he couldn't hear my pleas. He just blankly stares at me, with a face of pure terror. His head slowly tilts to the right and his mouth opens. "Why didn't you save me?! Do I mean nothing to you? It's all your fault!" I let out a loud scream of pure anguish, trying to find an out to this distorted place. "Someone help!"

Suddenly, a fire starts to trail up behind him, slowly getting closer. "Johnny, run!" I watch as the fire quickly envelopes him fully, his screams of pain piercing my ears. I extend my legs to run to him, free from my previous paralysis. Once I got there, he was...gone. I scream, dropping to my knees in sadness when I feel someone tap my shoulder. I slowly rose up and then proceeded to turn around. When I turned, I saw a disfigured johnny, covered in debris and burns. "Why didn't you stop me?" is all I heard before I woke up screaming.

I started to cry until I felt a pair of arms wrap around me, I jumped slightly. "It's ok baby, it's ok." I cried even harder at the soft tone, feeling safe. "Johnny?" He held me in his arms and rocked back and forth. I inhaled his scent for comfort, "What happened?" My tears were starting to dry and I could talk normally "I had a dream you left me, you died in the fire." His mouth dropped open slightly and tears welled in his eyes. He's never been the same since. Johnny started to have a more positive outlook on things since so seeing me so upset hurt him too.

He sat us up fully, soothing me. We sat in silence for a little while till he made a suggestion. "How about we get some food? The dingo's still open." I beamed at his words. He always knew what to say. We got in the car and started to drive to the dingo, listening to the radio. Johnny put his spare hand on my thigh and started to rub slowly. I put my hand on top of his and squeezed, feeling instant relief.

We arrived in the next five minutes. Once we walked in, Christy came to take our order. We decided to get a grilled cheese and vanilla milkshake with extra whip cream like usual. We sat and talked till sunrise about our future, favorites, and what are kids would be like. It felt like dream, unlike my recurring nightmares. After we were done, we headed back home. Before we walked into the house, Johnny grabbed my hand and stopped me. "Let's stay out here for a while, huh?" I shivered slightly before protesting, "Johnny it's cold!" He laughed at my reaction before pulling me in close. "I'll always warm you up." I giggled at his theatrics before sighing slightly and giving in.

He gripped me tighter than before, kissing my head. "I'll never leave you, baby. Before I knew it, we were both crying again. "I love you so much, Johnny." He looks at me in my eyes, tears running down his face with a downward smile. "I love you too, always and forever." ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[A/N] Hey guys! I wanted to let you guys know I'm getting to your requests as fast as I can. I'll have about 11 new things up on my page in probably the next month. Sorry, this is kind of short but I hope you enjoy it. I can even make a part two if yall want. Remember my request box is always open. Love you!

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secretlyasummers · 9 months

Text

The hill shouldn’t have been there.

It had gone down with the rest of Sunnydale, fallen into the sinkhole that had taken everything. The town was gone, the place that Buffy had lived and fought and died for.

But in the strange surrealism of dream-logic, the world where things would just happen and occur, it didn’t strike Buffy as strange, that she was there. She just sat on the hill between Restfield and Shady Hill and Peacebrook, the cemeteries stretching out in front of and around her. There, in the distance, was Spike’s crypt – Buffy could almost taste the cigarette smoke – while to the right, the shady tree that spread out over her mother’s grave was just in sight. Buffy knew that Tara’s grave, too, was past that; and somehow, despite it never being made, despite it being an impossibility, she could just pick out Anya’s, too.

Somewhere out there was the empty grave that she had climbed out of. In the dream, the cemeteries that had been her hunting grounds for the last seven years were spread open like a book. The sun rose, slowly, the red-orange picking out above the horizon. Buffy didn’t smile.

There was a grave before her, too.

“I always like this time of day, B.” Buffy looked up, as the younger woman sat down next to her. “Sunrise,” Faith said.

“Yeah?” For some reason, Buffy wasn’t surprised that she was there.

“Means we got through another day, y’know. That we stopped the vamps. Another day where we win, they lose.”

“Till we lose, too.”

Faith shrugged. “Happens eventually. Try not to let it bring me down.”

Buffy nodded, and let the moment stretch in silence. The sun was paused, where it was; a perpetual dreamtime sunrise.

“Been a while since you came here, F.”

Neither felt the need to lie, here. Never had; even at their darkest, this was where all their pretensions dropped away. They weren’t good or evil, friends or foes, they weren’t even slayers – they were just . . . them.

“Didn’t think you wanted me, B.” She glanced at her, then turned away just as quickly. “Told you long time ago, right? You can take whatever you need. Nothing more than that I thought I could say.” She laughed, almost harshly. “’Sides, I don’t know if I’m dreaming you, or if you’re dreaming me.”

“Does it matter?”

“Nah.”

“I still mean it, B.” She didn’t look at Buffy, though. “Take what you need, whenever you want. All of it. Of me.”

Buffy didn’t look away, even as Faith did. “I took too much, already.” Her hand crept on to Faith’s leg, feeling the familiar motion – the unsettling familiarity of a knife-blade in her hand creeping up that same body.

“No such thing, B. Redemption doesn’t work like that.” She gave a lopsided grin, looking out into that perpetual daybreak. “Should have taken more. I felt it, after all.”

“Felt?”

“Dying. When you died. I didn’t realize it, till I was told. But that pain, right? The flash and the burst of light and then nothing. In my cell, alone, I felt all of it. When Angel said it, I realized.”

“That wasn’t your fault, Faith.”

“Isn’t it? I told you. It’s all yours. I should have been there. I should have been the one to give that gift.”

“Death?”

“I know where I’m goin’, B. I ain’t like you. You,” Faith blinked, pausing, emotional, “you’re heading somewhere good, B. Where you can rest. Not here.”

“I like it here,” Buffy said, plainly.

A corner of Faith’s mouth lifted up at that, but quickly vanished. “Glad I’m good at that, at least. But B – this is a mausoleum to everyone you couldn’t save. You deserve to rest somewhere better than here. You should be happy.”

“Says who?”

Faith’s fingers climbed over Buffy’s, slowly intertwining.

“Says me, B.”

#faith lehane #fuffy #buffy x faith #buffy summers #buffy the vampire slayer #short fiction

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spacebarbarianweird · 6 months

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Fever

Summary: During your post-game adventures, you get sick and Astarion takes care of you.

Pairing: Astarion x f!Tav

Tags: hurt/comfort, f!tav, established relationship, post-game

Read on AO3

Masterlist

Headcanons

Thanks @tragedybunny for being an amazing beta!

It's bone-chilling cold. So close to the Spine of the World, the snow and winds prove as merciless as demons from the Abyss. Tears freeze on your cheeks. Even Astarion, wrapped in his fur cape, shivers; the cold seeping into his undead body. He starves. The dark forest is silent, with no animals around to prey on.

"Astarion," you muffle through the thick scarf, "take a small sip, I beg you."

"No," he refuses yet again, unwilling to risk your life. Hunger and cold torment him, but he stands on his feet. Meanwhile, you, a fragile mortal, teeter on the verge of death in this frozen forest. Your back aches despite Astarion carrying most of the load. Your feet are numb as if submerged in icy water, and your throat burns with pain.

Astarion grabs your hand and lets you lean back on him. The nearest village is still miles away, and there's no chance you'll make it till sunrise. Nights are long, dark, and unforgiving. You need to set up the camp; it might be warmer in daylight.

But Astarion desperately holds on to his sanity, which he might lose if he doesn't feed soon.

"Astarion, please. We need to put up the tent. Sunrise is soon. I will just lay by the fire, and you can eat."

"We still have time, darling, and save your energy," he grits his teeth. The starving monster within him looks at you through Astarion's kind crimson eyes.

"Astarion, take my blood!"

He doesn't reply, leading the way through dark woods. If only there was an animal, even a rat. Looking up, you see the dark skies filled with prickly stars.

"What is it, my sweet?"

Suddenly, you realize you haven't been cold because of the snow and winds. You are cold from within. Your heart, lungs, and bones are freezing, much like what Astarion feels every moment since he died. "Oh, fuck!"

You realize you now lie in the snow, unable to move, as the air in your throat burns with ice.

"Wake up, gods damn you!" Astarion's voice is desperate, betraying that he' is scared to death.

You hear the loud thump when his travel sack drops in the snow. Then he works on your belts, releasing your burden. A moment later, and you rest in his hands.

"Love, I need you to stay awake. You hear me?"

But you can't say anything. The cold rips through your muscles, turning into ice, and you lose consciousness, drowning in cold, dark waters.

So cold, so cold. It's a freezing grip of death on your heart, killing you. You think of Astarion, imagining him beside your lifeless body.

… You hear muffled talking and open your eyes. You aren't dead, that's for sure, but there is complete darkness around you.

And you lie under something weighty.

You try to move but can't, your. whole body shivers. You are almost naked, tucked in animal fur like some barbarian child.

The smell wood and herbs comes to you. And fire.

Then you remember the sun. And how Astarion carried you in his hands. Horror pierces your mind along with cold.

He is dead. He didn't make it till sunrise. It burnt him; he is gone. And the village people probably found you alone in the snow and brought you here.

While you think, you realize there are people in the room. Two people, to be precise.

"It's a freezing fever," the female voice says. "You two would have been complete idiots if you'd decided to put up a camp. She would have been dead by now."

"But now—is she ok?"

Astarion.

You have never felt so much joy in your life. He is alive and here, beside you. You can't comprehend how much strength he had to pull to make it with you in his hands by sunrise.

"She needs to take the potion. And then sleep in warmth."

You feel the familiar weight beside you. Then, two hands get you out of the blankets and make you sit up. Your head is spinning, and you shiver, though you notice sweat on the healer's face.

Astarion smiles at you and brings the bottle with the potion to your lips.

"Drink, love," he says.

"The taste is nasty," the healer shrugs. "Make her drink every last drop."

The potion is genuinely awful, burning your mouth. You start slipping away again, and Astarion tucks you in thick blankets.

"And people say vampires are soulless creatures. They should meet you two.”

When the healer leaves, Astarion lies beside you over the blanket. You wish to hug him but are afraid of his cold skin.

"Are you hungry?" you ask.

You hear a chuckle. "You are at death's door, and you ask about me? "Take mine," you insist.

"Tav, darling, I ain't taking a tiny drop from you until you fully recover. There is prey in the woods. I will find it."

You want to say something else, but the freezing hand of the sickness grips your throat. You feel like you’re naked on ice, in the howling wind.

"Love?"

"It's still… cold…"

Astarion sighs and stands up. You want to cry, to beg him to stay, but you can't say anything as he leaves the room, closing the thick wooden door.

You feel like crying, alone, and freezing. The healer curses, "You, idiot, stay inside!"

You hide under the blanket in the fetal position, trying to save warmth. However, it's difficult since the core of your suffering is still within. What if you are dying? And you are dying all alone in this village without a name in the middle of nowhere.

It's been years since you left Baldur's Gate together, and you can't fall asleep without him by your side. Astarion is safety. Astarion is protection. Whatever enemy is out there to threaten your life and freedom, Astarion is always there with his fangs and daggers. He doesn't sleep—only meditates a bit—and he is your guardian when you are most vulnerable.

But now you are alone. Your mind grasps consciousness with the last bits of strength you have. The thick blankets don't let you move, and you lie like you’re in your very own coffin of ice. It's been a long time since you were left alone, but you know it's still dark outside. And then you realize you aren't alone anymore.

Astarion crawls under the blankets and covers your body with himself, placing his head on your chest. He smells like blood, the hunt, and forest. He has already pulled off all his clothes, and you feel his skin against yours, unexpectedly flaming hot.

You can only wonder how much blood he has drunk. Sure, his body gets warm after feeding, and the more living blood he takes, the more alive he seems. But this is different. You can't see him, but you are somehow sure his skin has temporarily returned to its natural living color.

You wrap your hands around him and stroke the scars. Astarion groans and adjusts himself a bit.

"I've been hunting," he says, sounding drunk. "The healer told me there is a bear attacking villagers, starved and angry. I found and drained it."

"You shouldn't have risked it."

"I wanted you to be warm. I know how it feels to have a freezing grip on the heart. It hurts. All the time."

You press him tighter and kiss his forehead.

With him in your hands, you finally fall asleep. You have a strange dream—a summer day in the beautiful mountains.

And there is Astarion beside you. He smiles, exposing his face to the sunshine. You want to tell him to hide, to run away. But he opens his eyes, and you stare at him in disbelief.

They are green, not red.

… When you wake up, you feel hot. Sweat runs down your back, and the blankets suffocate you. You get out of them like a kitten squeezed by its mother.

"Hello, my sweet. You are so adorable with this bed hair," Astarion sits on the floor with a needle and a thread. You recognize his own shirt in his hands.

"How awful do I look?"

"You look like someone who finally got better. But I suppose you could scare away some kids in that village. Maybe I should tell them you are also a vampire. Food or bath?" he asks.

"Food. I am dying of hunger."

"My sweet, don't tell me about hunger." He mockingly kisses you. He returns soon with a soup bowl. You try to take the plate in your trembling hands, but Astarion forces you to sit still like a baby and starts spoon-feeding you.

"Good girl," he chuckles. "The healer said it would take you weeks to recover, and you made it in three days."

"And you have been here?"

"Don't offend me with such questions."

"Oh, don't be angry."

With a full stomach, you feel much better and lie back on the bed, letting your body fully recover. Astarion studies your face as if seeing it for the first time. Then he lies beside you, allowing you to place your head on his chest. His skin is cold again, but it feels more like him.

"What is on your mind, Astarion?" you ask.

"I want to stay," he says. "Not exactly here, but I can't live like that anymore."

"What do you mean?"

"Living on the road. I can't do that anymore. You obviously can't either. I... listen… I've never had a home. Never had a place to call my own. I want one. I want one with you."

"Didn't you tell me it would be tediously boring?" you inquire. "I wanted to see what life has to offer beyond the city walls." "Astarion, it will be dangerous. No one would want a—"

You bite your tongue. "Sorry."

"Dealing with a nosey neighbor doesn't sound more dangerous than getting some weird sickness in the middle of nowhere. Besides, we can prove to people it's better to have a vampire of their own rather than be threatened by some unhinged vampire lord.”

"Astarion, I am afraid for you. People hate vampires!"

"And I am afraid for you."

You are both silent. You turn to him and nuzzle his collarbone. He wraps his hands around you. Vague memories return, and you suddenly realize you heard the voices while in fever.

"Don't die. Please, don't die. I need you."

A scared voice of a healer. "You are a vampire!"

"Please help her. I won't come inside. I will stay in the woods. Please, please, help her! She is mortal; she is dying!"

You remember being carried to the bed and a strong smell of herbs. "How did you two end up together?", asked the healer.

"She saved me. From myself. Showed me I have a chance to be something different from what I was turned into. Tell me what I can do. Do you need herbs? Ingredients? I will bring you anything."

And then the face of the healer standing above you. She came to check on you in Astarion's absence, and the feverish mind remembered that.

"You are a lucky to have him, girl."

You caress Astarion's cheek. "Would staying in one place make you happy?"

He nods.

"Then, me too." --

Tag list

@tragedybunny @caitlincat-95 @tallymonster @astarionsbeloved @lumienyx @fayeriess @aoirohi @elora-the-slutty-songstress @veillsar @astarion-imagine-archive @micropoe10 @starlight-ipomoea @herstxrgirl @theearthsfinalconfession @ashrio20 @not-so-lost-after-all @vixstarria @wintersire

#astarion #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 astarion #astarion romance #bg3 #astarion bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #astarion x tav #astarion fluff #astarion ancunin #astarion fics #astarion x f!tav #astarion x reader #nurturing astarion #astarion fanfic #spacebarbarian fics #astarion angst #astarion hurt #astarion comfort

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suchawrathfullamb · 6 months

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head canons of them on a honeymoon? :D

Oh my wouldn't Hannibal love to be officially tied to Will? Call him "my husband"??? He'd love that.

I imagine their honeymoon would be somewhat secluded and warm, probably a beach somewhere. I'm sure Hannibal would arrange something nice.

Wait omg this just gave me Cullens vibe, what if Hannibal gets an island and names it after Will? Not like "The Will Island" cause that's lame but perhaps Île Guillaume somewhere in France; or isola di Guglielmo in Italy. He'd tell Will the destiny is a surprise, they get on their little fancy boat, the sun warms their skin, there's that pleasant breeze from the way the wind hits on the water, and the sound of the motor and the waves, creating a relaxing atmosphere. Will's laying on the dock, eyes closed, bathing in the sun. And Hannibal is, of course, admiring this beautiful scene, arms crossed, leaned.

"How beautiful you are," he says casually as he begins to approach (because he can't resist just looking, not after spending an eternity having no option but to just look), and leans down to nuzzle Will's neck with his nose, breathing him in. Will just smiles without opening his eyes.

"How long 'till we get there? Wherever there is..." he asks.

Hannibal looks at his watch and around them, "Less than thirty minutes, and we're there."

"I'm hungry," Will announces looking up at Hannibal, and he can see those big, doe eyes requesting to be fed like a child through the sunglasses.

He smiles, more to himself than to Will, happy that Will gifted him the role of caregiver whenever he is hungry, tired or injured. That he finally trusts him to provide and care for him.

"I'll see to it."

He comes back after a few minutes with a bowl of cut up fresh fruits, sits down next to Will and feeds him pieces with a fork.

"I'll cook a proper meal for you when we get there."

After awhile, they're approaching their destination and Hannibal lets Will know, taking his hand to hoist him up so he can look.

As they neared the island, Will takes off his sunglasses, overwhelmed by the verdant paradise that emerged. Adorned with vibrant foliage that cascaded down to meet the glistening shore, the sun bathed the island in a golden hue, and at the heart of it all stood a magnificent house, its architecture a harmonious blend of elegance and natural beauty, nestled among the swaying palms and blooming flowers. His eyes widened in sheer wonder, his breath catching at the breathtaking sight unfolding before him.

"Is this...?" he utters without taking his eyes off of it.

"Ours," Hannibal answers, "this is Île Guillaume...your island."

"My what?"

"Come on," he begins setting everything up to dock the boat.

I imagine something like this, and during the night everything lights up pretty. They make love on the ocean, under the moonlight, lay on the sand drinking wine until the sun rises, then they go to a sort of balcony that has a big lounge couch and they watch the sunrise in each other's arms. Hannibal cooks while Will swims, they play games, watch the sunset. Lots of sex in exotic places, too. Like, when would they have the opportunity to fuck in the woods, yk? Fucking on the beach, not so fun, the sand gets everywhere it shouldn't get, but they manage.

#naughty headcanons #i literally had to google “boat anatomy” for this one lol #ask the lamb #hannigram #nbc hannibal #hannibal #will graham #murder husbands #hannibal lecter

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mae-gi-writes · 1 year

Text

A TURN OF PRIORITIES . PART THREE | BANG CHAN

Synopsis: What happens when you and Bang Chan decide to fake a relationship for the sake of making your ex-boyfriend jealous? A turn of priorities, that's what.

PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE

——

It’s kind of scary how one thing leads to another.

You’ve never taken yourself as a believer of karma. What goes around comes around, is what they all say. You wished to destroy your boyfriend’s new love life, and you’re now facing a destruction of your own.

You have a crush on your best friend. On the guy whom you’ve seen cry in the movie theatre because of some stupid romcom, on the guy who literally burns himself every time he pulls something out of the oven, the guy who blushes with embarrassment at everything and who has an obsession over Marine animals.

You have a crush on Bang Chan. And you’re not sure how to make it go away.

To top it off, you can’t even talk about it to Minji, considering that she thinks you’re already going out with him.

After the disastrous call that occurred between you and Chan that particular afternoon, you’d kept your phone on silent and hadn’t dared check your messages for fear of what you’d find there. It’s been two days since and you’re busy frying eggs for breakfast when the sound of your ringtone — sounding eerily ghostly in the silence of the flat — breaks through like an alarm, causing you to flinch.

You check the caller ID, before quickly pressing onto the green button and placing the device at your ear, “hey Minji.”

“Good morning sunshine, so I’ve heard you and Chan have been having a little fight?”

“What?” Your voice comes out a little louder than expected and you try to tone it down when you ask, “what are you talking about?”

“Oh don’t act innocent Y/N, I saw Chan in Chem today and he looked like his dog died or something. It was obvious something was wrong,” she says and you picture her rolling her eyes, “what happened?”

“Nothing happened,” you say firmly, hoping that it will be enough to persuade her in leaving Chan alone, “he’s just having a hard time because of exams. You know how stressed out he can get.”

Minji hums, “shouldn’t you help him out? He looks like shit.”

“I have,” you lie smoothly. The lies come out so easily now, it’s been such a long time since you’ve been truthful to her. A pang of guilt hits you straight in the chest.

“How about bringing him along to Eunchae’s christmas party? She’s a classmate of mine and she’s throwing one at her flat complex because her roomies won’t be here this weekend. That might cheer him up.”

Eunchae? Not that Eunchae, surely?

“I don’t think I know her.”

“Chan might, we’re in the same Industrial Design class.”

Oh. Well. That explains everything. Of course you don’t want to show your face there. Nor do you think Chan will.

“I’ll talk to him,” you hurriedly say and quickly end the call so as not to sprout any more lies. Then, opening your messaging app after what seems to be an eternity, you scroll down your list of contacts until you click on Chan’s name.

Y/N: sup bro.

Sounds innocent enough right? You can almost imagine that nothing had happened these past two days.

Taking your eggs out of the frying pan, you lay them neatly atop your two slices of toast before heading over to the tiny dining table in the corner. As you sit down, a notification pops up. Chan’s reply.

Chan: ???

Chan: I’m confused…

Y/N: About what?

Chan: are you secretly stalking me?

Y/N: …now I’m confused.

Chan: open the door.

Y/N: ???????

On cue, the doorbell rings and the sound makes you jump, yelping slightly as you do so. Talk about coincidence.

“Hi,” Chan grins at you when you open the door, not seeming at all upset by what had transpired two days ago. Not that you’re going to remind him. It’s none of his business, after all.

“Not to be rude or anything but isn’t it a bit early for you to be here?” You ask when you glance at the clock that reads nine in the morning. Knowing Chan’s bad habit of playing till the sunrise on days he doesn’t have any lectures, it’s quite a surprise to see that he’s up and functional so early in the morning.

But you regret it the moment the words slip past your lips, for Chan’s face suddenly takes on a color so red you might think he’s gotten sunburnt in the span of a few seconds.

You don’t have to put two and two together.

“I was…uhm…I was talking to Eunchae.” He hurriedly adds, as if to make up for his pathetic excuse, “about our chem assignment from last week—“

“Oh cut the crap Chan,” you interrupt him quite rudely, plopping yourself down at the table before resuming your breakfast as you motion for him to serve himself, “were you on a date?”

“I—uh—well, no. We were—studying together. Yeah.”

You scowl and he quickly goes to grab a mug to evade your stare.

“So,” you ask while he pours himself some coffee, “so why are you here then? Isn’t it a bit rude to ditch your real girlfriend for your fake one?”

“I actually wanted to see how my best friend was doing,” he shoots you a pointed look over the rim of his mug, “and like I said, it wasn’t a—a date.”

“You’ve seen me. Happy now?”

“Wow, what is up your butt today?”

“Nothing,” you look away, clear your throat, “nothing at all. Just—“

You break off without saying anything more and the silence is enough to cover whatever excuse you were going to come up with. The argument from a few days ago rings in the back of your mind and you wonder whether he’s as tormented about the topic of discussion as you are.

Oh, who are you kidding? He’s been on a date this morning. Clearly he knows exactly what he’s doing. Ad not feeling bad about it in the slightest.

And why should he? It’s not like you’re really dating!

“Hey,” it’s not his voice, but the touch of his fingers along your face. You blink, only to see him tucking a few stray strands behind the curve of your ear. An action he’s come to become familiar with from that last date. Still, it’s surprising, considering that Chan has never been so fond of touching other people.

“You wanna talk about what happened that night?”

Your eyes slip from his face to your empty plate. Something knots in the middle of your stomach. No.

“Nothing happened that night,” comes your mumble.

You feel him shift, and then, a soft lingering touch along the side of your arm. His shoulder, pressing into yours.

He’s warm. Warmer than you’ve expected.

A surge of comfort rises in the grooves of your chest.

“It really wasn’t a date, if you must know,” Chan’s mumble feels like a hundred knives pricking into your skin, “we were just working. Really—“

”I don’t care Chan,” you chortle.

He blinks at you, “Okay,” he drags out the word, then continues, “can I ask you something then?”

“What?”

“Why were you so upset that night? When I told you she liked me?”

“I wasn’t upset.”

He looks at you as if saying really? And unconsciously, your hands start moving around the cutlery along the plate; crossing them, uncrossing them. Crossing them.

“Okay fine, maybe I was.”

“What for?”

And that is when you give him a wan smile, “nothing that you should worry about, Chan. It’s girl things.”

“Don’t patronize me. That won’t scare me away like when I was younger.”

“Aw man, that used to work all the time,” memories of you taunting Chan about your period and the amount of blood drenching the toilet suddenly flickers through your mind, causing a small smile to dangle upon your lips, “but really, there’s no need to worry. I’m fine now.”

As much as you want to kick up a fuss about slowly losing your best friend to someone else, it wouldn’t be fair to the other girl for you to suddenly sprout your feelings out loud when he’s just gotten confessed to, especially when this is probably the first time since forever since he’s gotten a shot at normal dating life.

Who are you to interfere with his happiness?

“By the way, speaking of Eunchae,” you tell him right when he’s about to leave. Currently shoving his feet into his sneakers, he looks up at you, lips parted and in that particular moment, you feel you might kiss him.

“Uhm,” thoughts scramble as you try to stammer your way out of this sudden knot of flustered embarrassment, “will you be going to her party?”

“You’re invited?” He frowns.

“Y-Yeah. Minji invited me.”

Chan straightens then, body looming over yours and causing you to tilt your head up and— has he always been taller than you were? Your eyes flicker down to the arm slinging his backpack over his shoulder. Veins.

Oh, beautiful. You quickly snap your gaze away, “so, are you coming or not?”

“Are you?”

“Probably.”

“Then I’m coming,” a lopsided smile breaks cross his face, “can’t let my girlfriend go alone now, can I?”

Your heart stutters for a beat.

Your mouth opens, closes, then opens again. Speechless.

Chan merely chuckles before reaching over to ruffle your hair, “alright, see you tomorrow.”

“Bye,” you say blankly, not realizing that he’s gone until he’s halfway down the hall. It is only then that you manage to shake yourself out of this sudden reverie.

You quickly slam both hands cross your cheeks in growing irritation. Get a grip, Y/N! What is wrong with you?!

Girlfriend. He’d called you his girlfriend.

Not for long. But long enough.

——

You immediately feel like running away the moment you step through Eunchae’s apartment door.

The doorway is lit up with Christmas garlands — red and green and gold — partnered with fairy lights glimmering in welcome as you step through only to bump into someone’s back. The place is packed, god knows Eunchae is one of the popular kids at school, being one of the top pianists to be majoring in both music and science. The space is compact but open, with the kitchen on your far right separated by an island decorated in black and white marble. To your left is a spacious living room filled decked with vast couches of white-colored leather, on which sit a crowd of people engrossed currently engrossed in the Super Mario competition going on, shouts and jeers filling the air at intervals.

Regret pools inside your stomach and makes your mouth go dry. Maybe you should turn back, after all. You barely know this girl—

“Y/N!”

Shit. Too late. You swivel, coming face to face with none other than Minji. She beams at you, sparkly silver dress and heels to match, her face dolled up like a beauty pageant. She looks stunning.

“Hi,” you lean into the big hug she gives you, “there’s so many people here.”

“Yeah, Eunchae is a bit of a social butterfly. Let’s go say hello!” And before you can protest that maybe you should get a drink first, Minji is already tugging you along through the throng of bodies as the beats echo through the walls, seeming to come from the outside terrace.

“Eunchae!” Minji quickly directs herself towards a pretty girl with dyed blonde hair and a pretty smile who had been deep in conversation with one of the jocks that you recognized as Minho’s friend Seungmin, “hi! Thanks for inviting me!”

“Oh hey Minji, you made it!” Eunchae greets her back with a one-armed hug, then glancing over to you and grinning, “thanks for coming. Who’s your friend?”

“This is Y/N, you probably know her. She’s Chan’s best friend.”

“Oh!” Something lights up in Eunchae’s eyes, “so you’re the Y/N he keeps talking about. Lovely to finally meet you!”

You shake her hand, glad her fake nails aren’t piercing through your skin at this rate, “likewise,” you force a smile, knowing full well why Chan might be in love with her. You would be too, if you were a guy. She’s everything anyone has ever asked for.

Pretty, gorgeous, friendly…and most of all, a perfect fit for Chan.

“You haven’t gotten any drinks yet,” she remarks, grinning coyly before pointing at the marble counter on the far right, “please, go help yourselves. There’s everything but water.”

You find yourself cracking a smile, even chuckling a little as you raise a hand at her, “thanks, will try to find something drinkable.”

The party is now in full swing. Jeering, shouting, music blasting from the speakers and reverberating through your skull. With a glass of whisky and coke in hand, Minji doesn’t hesitate to drag you to the dance floor and together, you start swaying. The air smells of alcohol and sweat but you find you don’t quite mind, not when you’re busy enjoying the way the beats swim through your bloodstream as the alcohol takes over logic and reason.

At some point you feel a pair of hands fluttering over your hips. Turning with a scowl at the ready — and a fist curled just in case — you’re surprised to find that it’s Chan. But not Chan.

He’s gazing down at you in amusement, corner of his lips tilted and an eyebrow raised as if to as you what in the world you were doing. But he’s ditched the glasses and his hair is gelled up. His black t-shirt is fitted and the jean jacket he’s thrown over it subtly emphasizes the breadth of his shoulders.

You can’t help but suck in a breath. He looks gorgeous.

Instead you blurt out, “you’re late!”

“My bad,” Chan yells over the music and though it’s definitely not Chan behaviour to be touching you so casually, you actually don’t mind savoring his touch a little more and you lean in closer, slightly closer as he adds, “if it helps, Minho was the one who was late. I had to wait for him for thirty minutes.”

You chortle, rolling your eyes and take another sip of your drink, “d’you want one?” You wiggle it towards your best friend.

“Nah,” he shakes his head, nose wrinkling and you swear something clenches in your heart when he does that, “I’ll pass.”

“Weakling.”

He jabs you playfully in the ribs and you giggle, slinging an arm around his shoulder before dragging him to the dance floor. Minji appears a few seconds later with Minho in tow, hips swinging and with a smile so big it might tear her face apart as she hangs onto her boyfriend like he’s the only source of physical support. The act makes you turn away, gulp down the rest of your drink in hopes that it would take away the itch in your heart.

At some point in the evening you find yourself on the couch competing against complete strangers turned into friends, shouting as you urge your car to go fastest, dodging bananas and throwing your head back in laughter as the boy beside you received a red tortoise shell.

“Shit!” He buries his face into the pillow on his lap, “ugh! That’s it, I’m dead!”

You whoop in glee when the finish line appears on your screen, “And I won!”

“You’re just lucky,” he grumbles. Then, after a few beats of hesitation, reaches his hand out to you, “I’m Felix.”

“Y/N,” you shake his hand with a grin, “so I take it Mario Kart isn’t your forte?”

“You’re the one who probably rigged the game.”

“Oh I did not!” You gasp mockingly, “you’re accusing me right now?”

“Don’t lie to me, I saw the way your eyebrows were wriggling when we were playing.”

“Oh so I’m a witch now?”

He can’t help but laugh, “have we met before?”

“Not that I know of. I’m from the landscape architect major,” you lean back against the couch as someone else asks for the remote. You toss it to them before turning back to Felix, noticing the flecks of golden brown scattered across his face, “and you?”

“Bio-Chem.”

You throw your hands in the air, “why is everyone in Bio-Chem?!”

“Maybe because it’s the most popular major that our university offers?”

You shoot him a look, rising up from your seat to stretch, “I’m going to get a drink. You want something?”

“I’ll come with you.”

You make your way to the kitchen after having pushed through the crowd of people — it seems they keep increasing every hour — and it isn’t until you reach the kitchen counter that you spot Chan and Eunchae flirting, heads close together and giggling like sickly school children. It makes you want to hurl something.

Felix, unaware of your conflicted feelings, calls out, “hey Chan, man! Long time no see.”

“Hey,” Chan starts to grin, only for it to fall flat the moment his eyes find yours. Instantly, a frown clouds his brows, “you okay, Y/N?”

“Never been better,” you all but snarl, pushing past his figure to get to the fridge. You grab a new bottle of coke, pour yourself some. Grab the vodka to fill it up to the brim, the drink sizzling like a potion.

“You drunk?” Chan’s question throws you off guard. Spinning around to see him, a scowl imprints itself on your face, “not that it’s your business. But no, I’m not drunk. Thanks for asking.”

You don’t wait for your best friend to say anything else. Grabbing Felix’s elbow and pulling the said man out of the kitchen, you keep on walking until you’re finally out onto the terrace and the cool wind gently caresses your face, causes your hair to tickle your cheeks, cool them down. It’s a stark contrast to the heat along the back of your neck.

You hadn’t noticed it but Felix’s eyes are straying over your features, searching them as though you’re a puzzle he’s trying to decipher.

“You okay?” He finally yells out over the music, “you look like you’re gonna be sick.”

“I’m fine,” you force a smile. Then, you make a grab for his hand and tug him towards the dance floor, “come on!” You try to add some cheerfulness into your voice, “I want to dance!”

The hours easily slip by when you lose yourself into the music once more. You can almost ignore the small hole that’s slowly spreading across your chest every time Chan’s face flashes through your mind. Chugging drink after drink, you allow yourself to be woozy, to get drunk in an attempt to forget. You don’t want to think any more. You don’t want to hurt anymore.

So you keep on dancing. Dancing even if your feet hurt. Even if your heart is breaking.

Dancing even when Felix says goodbye because he has to go home.

It is only when a hand encloses itself around your arm that you whip around.

“What?!” You snap a little too harshly into Chan’s face, causing him to wince.

“You’re drunk<“ he says simply while dragging you out of the dance floor, “come on—“

“Let me go!” You’re turning and twisting against him, but he pays you no mind and that infuriates you even more. Hot tears start burning at the corner of your eyes as you keep on tugging at his grip, hating the way he thinks he can force you to see him when he’s the last thing you wish for at this very moment.

But Chan is too strong for you to compete, dragging you all the way to the bathroom before closing the door with a satisfied click.

Your body slumps against the closed toilet lid as a tired ache spreads through your calves, your legs. You’re tired. You’ve been dancing for god knows how long.

“What do you want?” You try not to slur your words. They come out slurred anyway, it’s easier said than done.

Chan lets out a soft sigh. He crouches before you so that his face becomes level with yours, and in his eyes you notice the concern swimming through those maroon pupils, hating the way it causes warmth to spread through your chest.

You look away, “stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you don’t know what to do with me.”

“I really don’t know what to do with you,” he shakes his head, “why are you angry at me?”

“I’m not angry at you.”

“So what are you? Why are you looking at me like that?”

The words scratch your throat like sandpaper. But you blurt them out anyway, “because I can’t stand seeing you flirt with that Eunchae girl. It pisses me off—“

“So you’re jealous? Is that what it’s about?”

“I’m not jealous—“

“Then what is it? I don’t get it Y/N—”

“I don’t get it either!” You yell out with such emotion it makes him take a breath. A sob escapes your mouth, the words broken along your tongue, “I have no fucking clue and it’s fucking with my head! And I’m so tired! I’m so tired of—“

Your words drown in mid-yelp when Chan’s hands cradle your face, pull you in, to crash his lips to yours.

You gasp, wriggling in his hold; this is all going to end badly—

But his lips follow yours like a magnet, kissing your next set of words away as they dissolve upon your lips.

He’s warm. His kiss is warmer, lighting a fire inside your stomach and making you all but melt into him with a soft sigh.

Chan tilts his head, mouth slanting even more intimately against yours as your nose brushes his. It’s intoxicating, the way his lips move against yours like water currents finding a rhythm, the way his hands slide to your hips to grip them in place, rooting you to his chest.

A shudder runs through you, hands sliding up to the back of his head. A small moan echoes from the back of his throat, he kisses you deeper, tongue gently sliding out to run along your lips.

You part for him like warm butter and a wanton breath falls from your mouth the moment his wet muscle meets yours in a dance, an unfamiliar one, but not unwelcome. You can’t help but grip him tighter to you, tilting your head to match his rhythm, him pulling you so close you’re almost tumbling onto his lap.

You swear your entire brain is filled with fireworks, sparks exploding left, right and center as he keeps kissing you like his life is about to end, like you’re never going to see each other again. He kisses, you note, like a man starved of oxygen and he’s suddenly found an addictive source. Like a man on drugs.

You’re so entangled with each other that you’re not sure where your bodies end and begin, limbs entwined like barks on a tree. And it isn’t until Chan’s thumb gently slides over your rib cage that you let out a pained whimper.

He stills, drawing back ever so slightly to look into your eyes. His pupils are dark, dazed and drunken on the scent and the taste of you. Nobody says a thing for a whole minute as you keep on gazing at each other through heavy lids.

His mouth is perfect, puckered and pink from your assault. He’s beautiful.

You’re fucked.

——-

Yup. Definitely fucked.

You barely escaped Chan that night, having muttered an abstract excuse and quickly slipping past him while he was still in shock of your whole encounter. You were secretly glad and disappointed at the same time that he hadn’t come for you, hadn’t followed you out, and as you trailed back home in your now-broken heels, you couldn’t help but feel like something had ripped at the hope that had built inside your chest.

But as the true avoider of problems that you were, you decided that playing it safe but just ignoring the elephant in the room is the wisest choice at the moment. God knows Eunchae does not need to know what had transpired between you two, especially not when there is hope for a budding relationship. They’re not even going out, and yet you still feel sick. Who are you to be interfering? Why are you always interfering and getting in the middle of things?

So you play it cool, taking the December break as an excuse to not see Chan despite his messages pleading for you two to meet. He still wants some clarification as to what happened that night, but your head is still just as muddled and you have no idea what to say to him.

Chan: Y/N, I really need to talk to you.

Y/N: hey dude sorry, I’ll be a bit busy the whole month actually. You know with Christmas and everything. Let’s talk in Jan when we have some free time :)

Chan: Y/N this isn’t funny anymore

Y/N: nobody said it was supposed to be funny. I’m just busy.

Chan: please

Y/N: …I’m sorry.

He hadn’t responded after that so you hope that somewhere he’s ignoring you to spend some time with the girl of his dreams. Eunchae had been the first to outwardly say that she liked him, and it wouldn’t be fair for you to now confess your feelings.

Then, there was also the issue of Minji bugging you to double date again because of that stupid Christmas market that she simply could not go alone. Turns out that she’s quite persistent about it when she turns up in front of your flat on a Friday afternoon, flanked by both Minho and Chan.

You would’ve laughed at how hilarious the situation is — your ex-boyfriend with the guy you’re crushing on, if not for the fact that nothing had been resolved in the first place.

“I told you I’m not feeling good,” you say weakly as Minji quickly ruffles through your wardrobe, chucking what seems fit for this occasion while the two boys are waiting in the living room, “you guys should go without me.”

“Absolutely not. Chan looks miserable because you haven’t hung out with him at all these days. What’s up with that?” She looks over her shoulder at you, lips pursed, “did you have a fight or something?”

“No! Nothing like that.”

“Then make it right please. He’s been boring us with all his sulking.”

You wish you could tell her. You’re really aching for a second opinion. But everything is now just a mess that you have no idea how to clean and telling her would mean that you’d have to admit to all the ill feelings that had built up inside you all along.

You can’t do that to Minji, not even when she had been the one to steal Minho.

“Y/N, promise you’ll make it okay by dinner time? I can’t stand Chan like this any longer.” Minji pleads, bringing you back to reality.

You blink at her, try for a weak smile, “sure. I’ll try.”

It’s safe to say that the whole outing is awkward, what with you and Chan trying to avoid each other’s gaze while Minji and Minho are the perfect couple in love. Something inside your chest burns with jealousy, like a wildfire that can’t be put out no matter how much you look away. How come they get to be happy? How come you can’t share this happiness?

"Waaah look at all those lights!" Minji bounces from one foot to the other as you enter the market bustling with commotion. It's almost christmas time and people are busy buying gifts, apple cinammon wafting through the air on one side, crepes and chocolate on the other. Merchants are displaying pretty christmas pottery while some are exposing christmas sweaters, calling out people from the street as christmas jingles fill the air with excitement.

Your eyes take in the mulled wine brewing in the corner. Dang. That looks appetizing. And you probably need it.

A tug at your coat causes you to turn, blinking up at your best friend.

"We lost Minji."

He lets go to resume his walk and something lodges in the back of your throat at his posture. It'a tense, hands in pockets, like he doesn't want to be here.

"Hey Chan," you're quick to put a hand on his shoulder, causing him to glance down at you.

"What?" His eyes are searching, looking around to not focus on you. Your heart tugs with pain and you say, "can we...talk?"

"What, now?"

"Y--Yeah."

There's a beat of awkward silence as you wait for his answer. Then, Chan's hand grabs yours before he tugs and as you stumble against him you can't help flashing back to the way he'd gripped you to him that night, with almost desperate passion to kiss you senseless. Breathless.

It makes you warm all over.

There's a small area away from the big crowd, cozy and intimate with warming stations. Chan orders two mulled wines and brings them over to you, perched on a small wooden bench just big enough to fit two intimate individuals.

Your shoulder presses against his as he takes a seat and hands you your drink, which you mutter out a thank you before taking a sip. To be honest, you're not quite sure what to say, what to do, despite this being your idea.

You just know you have to make things right.

"I'm...sorry," you mutter into your cup in hopes that he'll hear, the shame burning the tips of your ears pink, "about avoiding you on purpose."

He takes a sip, shudders, "I just need to know why."

You press your lips together, "I...I didn't want things to get all complicated, especially with ...with you likig Eunchae and everything--"

"Who said so?"

You blink at him, "huh?"

"Who said I liked Eunchae?"

He looks away while taking another sip, not quite meeting your eye. You must be dreaming to see the slight blush scattering his cheeks and your brain tries to wrap itself around the new facts being thrown your way.

"Y--You did?" Your remark comes off more like a question. You swear something combusts in your chest as Chan turns to face you, thigh brushing yours while he leans a little closer so that you can feel the warmth of his breath.

"I said Eunchae liked me, but I never said I liked her back."

"You said you wanted to try it out with her."

"Yeah I did," Chan's eyes flit down to your lips, back up to your eyes and something in those dark pupils make you shiver, "until..."

You watch him, unsure. Your words are a mere breath, "until?"

He seems to struggle for words and something like hope sparks through your chest at the thought that maybe, just maybe--

No. Impossible.

"Y'know what, we don't have to have this conversation. You and Eunchae's relationship has nothing to do with me and I shouldn't be interfering," you stand up as you speak, already set on walking away in hopes that he doesn't see the way your heart is breaking, hurting, "let's go find Minji--"

Chan's fingers close around your wrist. He tugs you with enough force that it sends you toppling, yelping as you try to balance your cup--

Only to land in his lap.

One arm laces around your waist, the other slipping up to grip your chin and tilting your head down to face him. At this point, you're almost combusting in place, skin breaking out into sweat and heat rushing up to your face.

Chan's eyes meet yours. They lock, searching, gazing so intently you wish to squirm. Your brain's turned to mush.

"I--I--I--" you're a blubbering mess, scrambling away in protest. But Chan's grip is strong and you're secretly glad you're in a corner against a row of bushes hiding you away from most of the crowd, for this position is more than scandalous, "Wh--What do you--What are you doing Chan?!"

"Y/N," his voice, unlike yours, is calm. Controlled. He's looking at you with a confidence that makes you bite your lip and want to run away.

"W--What? Stop--stop looking at me like that."

An amused smile dances across his lips. He leans even closer, and holds you still when you try to lean back, yelping slightly, "like what?"

His breaths are warm, smell like mint against your skin.

His cup is long done and crumbled on the ground, and he plucks your cup gently from your hold to place it beside his.

"I--I don't know, just--stop, you--you're making me nervous!"

"Am I? He chuckles, "that's new." Pausing for a beat to take in your features, you avert your eyes and decide to find a sudden interest in a loose thread hanging off his shirt, “tell me the truth Y/N, why were you really angry that night?”

“What night?” You mumble in an act of defense.

Chan Chuckles lowly, “the night at Eunchae’s party. Why were you mad?”

“I wasn’t mad.”

“Y/N,” the way your name rolls off his tongue is enough to make you shiver and shut up. There’s a moment of silence where he searches your gaze, prodding, eyebrows furrowed and intent on your face. And you, teeth biting down onto your lower lip as a nervous knot builds in the back of your throat.

You can’t help but break underneath his gaze, “I…” you trail off, not sure how to say it aloud without sounding pathetic or stupid, “I was jealous. I was angry because I was jealous of you and Eunchae.”

“Why?”

Your eyes snap up to his, “because,” you murmur out brokenly, “I—I can’t stand the thought of you with someone else, because it makes me mad to think about the time you’re spending with her, because…because I like you.”

There. You’d said it. Out in the open. And Chan, his face unchanged, shifts you in his lap to get a better grip on your hips, his eyes darkening with emotion as he stares you down. It’s almost as if he’s still waiting for you to continue.

Your hands start wringing themselves together in knots, hoping that the ground would magically swallow you up and steal you away from this very moment. God knows you’re dying of shame and embarrassment with the way Chan is drilling holes into your skull.

“Chan?” You call out tentatively, “can you…say something?”

He takes a breath. Stills. His whole body quivers and he looks away for a second, as if needing to catch his breath.

And when he turns back to you, you’re glad you’re already sitting, for the warmth surging through his orbs makes your stomach giggly and legs feeling like jelly.

“Glad to know I’m not the only idiot who's in love,” he finally whispers out.

It takes you a minute. You blink. The words replay in your head. Wait—did he mean that? Is that what he’s actually saying? Does he—

No. This is a mistake. It surely is. It can’t be.

He chuckles, chest vibrating and breaking you out of your sudden reverie, “what’s with this face? You look like I just told you I was going to go to the North Pole.”

“N—No, I mean—What—Chan, I thought you—but what about—“ you’re a babbling mess at this stage and laughing even harder, Chan pulls you a little closer before his hand slides up to the back of your neck.

He doesn’t hesitate to pull you in. You don’t fight him.

The kiss you share is soft. Tender, and unhurried. Definitely unlike your first kiss in Eunchae’s bathroom. Chan is warm and tastes sweet and bitter at the same time, the tinge of mulled wine on his mouth as he draws away.

There’s a dust of blush on his cheeks and you can’t help but feel the satisfaction from that. At least you know you have that much of an effect. If anything.

“What about—what about Eunchae?” You can’t help but blurt out.

Chan presses his lips together. Then, he shakes his head, “I really enjoyed the attention at first. I never thought anyone would ever be interested in me. To be honest, I was curious,” one of his hands reach up to rub the back of his neck. Probably in nervousness, “but I don’t know. It didn’t click. I found myself…wanting to see you.”

“Hmm,” you hum, fingers playing with the material of his shirt, “interesting. Tell me more.”

“Ah wait a minute,” he frowns, “what about you? What happened to you and Minho? I never thought I was on your radar, until—“

“Until what?”

“Until you—“ the blush is back full force, springing through his cheeks like a bushfire, “until you decided to snog me in the bathroom—“

You gasp, “you snogged me first! You’re the one who kissed me!”

“I—I thought that’s what you wanted!”

“Well—yeah but I mean—it was your move!”

“Okay okay, I just couldn’t help myself,” Chan mutters while burying his face into the crook of your neck, breaths warm and tingling the skin there as his nose skims over your skin, “you looked so pretty with that outfit and—I don’t know, you were jealous and I found it so cute I—I’m sorry. I should’ve asked—“

You scoff to hide the way your cheeks are flushing at his compliments, “good thing I did want to snog your face off.”

He grumbles, nuzzles even more into you if that’s possible. You can’t help but smile, arms tentatively wrapping around his neck to draw him closer into a hug. You want to feel bad for Eunchae. You really do. But right now, sitting in Chan’s arms had never felt so right. The butterflies are roaring against your rib cage, fluttering with such vigor you feel like squirming. You don’t have to check to know that you’re currently grinning from ear to ear. It’s a different feeling, like you’re flying.

You never want to get back on the ground.

“So—what do we do?” You ask after a moment of silence, “are we dating? Or like…”

He pulls his face from your neck with amusement dancing in his eyes, “well, I think maybe I should take you out on a date first.”

“Oh,” just the thought renders you into a colored mess, “right…”

“Are you blushing?” Chan tilts his head to gaze up at you in endearment, warmth flowing from his eyes and making you squirm in his lap, “n—no, it’s just— I’m not used to this,” you mutter back.

“Yeah well, me neither,” Chan murmurs. Then, before you can protest he’s already tugged you back into a full-fledged embrace, nose nuzzling your collarbone and arms gripping you tight against his chest.

“Hey lovebirds!”

You scramble out of Chan’s lap so quickly that you almost fall face first on the gravel. Quickly finding your footing and shooting up into a standing position, you find Chan doing the same as you spot Minji’s head popping through the bushes, a Cheshire smile curling upon her lips.

“Well well well,” she cheers, “seems you two made up, didn’t you?”

You scowl, stomping past her as you say, “come on, I haven’t seen all of the market yet.”

“Well wait for me!” She chirps with another giggle, bouncing up behind you before linking arms and chattering on away about how the Christmas decorations are the cutest this year.

Chan watches you as he follows close behind, affection filling his chest and a grin breaking across his face.

I love her.

——-

"What if he doesn't like it?"

"He'll love it Y/N," Minji says while brushing back a few stray strands from your face. She ties up your hair in an elegant half ponytail, topping it off with a simple black ribbon, "there. You look pretty. There's no way Chan can't find you attractive."

"I know, but how am I supposed to act with him now? It's so...weird..." you blush just at the thought of having dinner face to face with him, the thought of his eyes locking on your own so intimately...

Oh just don't think about it! You feel like slapping yourself in the face. Why does it matter whether you’re alone or not? This is what you’ve been waiting for all this time, wasn’t it?

“What if it’s actually really awkward and we don’t know what to say to each other?” Your mutter s louder than you expect and Minji looks down at you, hands grasping your shoulders as she takes in your words.

“Trust me,” she says with a firmness you can’t quite compete with, “you’ll be fine.”

The doorbell rings just as you’re about to answer her that no, you won’t be fine and nothing about this is fine. Minji hurries over to get the door, barely giving you time to get your senses into check before the it swings open.

Chan gazes at you, blinks at Minji, then back at you like he’s seeing you for the first time.

And when he speaks, he is breathless.

“Hey,” he says, almost shyly. Like he can’t quite meet your eye, “you ready?”

“H-Hi,” you stutter out, cheeks flaming in pink as you scramble to get your bag together before scurrying towards the door, all while ignoring Minji, “so—sorry, were you waiting for long?”

“No no,” he smiles at you and you swear a million butterflies explode throughout your chest at this simple action, “I just came, and—“ he pauses for a second, eyes glancing over your outfit before locking with your own. His smile widens like a little boy who one found with his hand in a cookie jar. Not his cookie jar, “you look nice.”

“Thanks,” you sound breathless as you answer, and quickly try to come back down to earth, “you too.”

It is definitely weirder to be hanging out with Chan knowing that there’s the possibility of romance in the air. It’s not everyday that you get to be so close to the one you’re crushing on. It’s only just recently that you got to see Chan as more than just a friend, like a man, and the thought is unsettling, yet thrilling. One you can’t quite explain in simple words.

He brings you to the movies to watch a christmas-themed blockbuster. You don’t complain, continuing on the stream of chatter as you line up for some popcorn. It’s almost as if everything is normal between you two. Nothing feels as out of place as it should’ve, and slowly you find yourself relaxing the more the evening wears on.

“So is this another one of your stupid romcoms?” You can’t help but tease him as you make your way inside. There are numerous vacant seats and you follow Chan up the stairs until he finds a suitable row.

“it’s not just a stupid romcom okay?” Chan hisses back, and his response causes you to grin in the dark, “stories have happy endings too, you know.”

“Yeah yeah, so you keep saying,” you tease.

“D’you wanna bet that you’ll love this one?” He raises a brow at you.

“Pfft. You’re gonna bet on my reaction?”

His stare is serious, it almost makes you want to squirm in place. Heat rushing to the back of your neck, you hurriedly add on, “alright alright, what will you do for me if I don’t like the movie?”

“You grant me a dare.”

“A what?“ You feel your heart drop. Surely he hasn’t just suggested—

“A dare. You get to do any dare that I order you too,” satisfied, Chan crosses his arms over his chest with a grin, “fair deal?”

“Wha— how is that fair?!”

“It’s totally fair…if you’re honest with me,” he sends you a pointed look.

In the end you had to agree, grumbling a little under your breath as you did so and Chan, grinning from ear to ear, had gently prodded your shoulder with his. You couldn’t help but smile at his action.

He’s not one for skinship. And yet, he makes sure you’re always feeling loved no matter the circumstances.

“So?” He asks as soon as the ending credits roll in, “did you like it?”

In the end, you’d had to agree and abide by his rules. The movie had been — in all honesty — better than expected, though you’re quite unsure whether it had been because of Chan’s company or because it was genuinely good.

“Fine, what’s your dare?” You ask sullenly as you make your way to the exit. You feel like a child about to sulk in a corner.

But Chan laughs lightly, bopping you on the forehead as he says, “ hold my hand, all the way until the end of this date.”

You blink at him, “what if I have to go pee?”

“Then we'll go pee together."

"Didn't you say you didn't like holding hands?"

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Chan stiffen, colour spreading through his face, "yeah well..." he mutters, "it was different then."

His reaction is adorable, and as you stumble out into the street -- night has fallen and there are more people bumbling about -- you reach your hand out without looking at him, eyes averted to the ground before you feel his warmth wrap arouns yours.

His hand is large, had always been in comparison to yours. Somehow, the way his fingers close around yours makes you see stars.

You find a cozy little restaurant on the corner of the street where the christmas market is taking place. It’s called “Le Coin Ideale”, a small French-owned cafe with old retro vinyls stuck to the wall and faded-out couches scattered all over the place like an expired, outdated living room.

“This is cute,” you can’t help but mutter out as you take your seat. Chan flashes you a grin while handing you one of the menus stacked atop the table, “I found it by accident when I was running late for my chem exam, once.”

“You? Running late?” Your nose wrinkles, “somehow, that doesn’t seem to make so much sense.”

“You know why?” He leans forward, the grin blossoming on his face with such mischief you almost regret what you said, “the night before, you had called me because you couldn’t sleep. And even though I knew I was going to shoot myself in the foot the next day for not sticking to my sleep schedule, I just didn’t want to let you go.”

“What?” You blink at him, astounded by what he just said, “wait, how come I don’t remember—“

“I never told you my exam was the day after. You would’ve killed me.”

In response, you slap his arm. He winces, yelping out a protest, “what was that for?!”

“For being an idiot,” you grumble and avert your gaze, heat spreading through your cheeks. How adorable. He’d actually sacrificed his sleep for you. “Don’t do that again.”

Ordering two cups of hot chocolate and sandwiches — at this point you were just too engrossed in what Chan had to say that you don’t care what you’re eating as long as it’s food — the two of you keep up the stream of chatter as memories flood in. He reminds you of how, back in high school, you would hide in the art room just to get away from the crowd. Despite being popular due to your position on the cheerleading squad, you’d never been a fan of too much attention. Chan used to hang out with you there, painting portraits of your face, your side profile, your eyes, as you spoke about everything and anything.

“I always thought it was weird that you were on the cheerleading team,” Chan admits while munching through his sandwich.

“Hm?” You frown, “why? I think I was doing pretty good.”

“Yeah you were. You were one of the best they had. But, I don’t know,” he lifts his shoulders in a shrug, “you never seemed to fit in with the rest of the girls. Most of them were unbearable.”

You can’t help but giggle, “they’re not that bad. You’re the one who just hated talking to new people.”

“Yeah maybe,” he grabs a napkin as he speaks, reaching up to wipe your lips without a second’s hesitation and causing your heart to flutter, “I don’t think I’ve changed that much since high school.”

You’re trying really hard to keep holding onto his gaze despite the amount of heat frolicking inside your chest. You feel like you suddenly can’t breathe.

“I—well, I think no one has,” your eyes avert themselves to your drink and you quickly take a sip, “but I think we’ve become better.”

“What do you mean?”

“We haven’t changed. We’ve just…blossomed. Into who we are supposed to be. We don’t have to change for that.”

“Poet Y/N strikes again,” Chan’s lips curl up into a smile. He lets his head drop into his palm, tilting his face to gaze at you, “aren’t you cute.”

“Shut up,” you attempt to kick his shin.

He yelps, pulling his feet back as far as they can go, “wow, this is how you thank me for complimenting you? I’m hurt, Y/N.”

“You’re so dramatic.”

“Just for you,” his face breaks out into a grin then. You can’t help but grin back, heart soaring at the affection swimming in his gaze.

If you’d had any doubts about Chan loving you then, the way he’s looking at you throws every doubt out of the window.

He’s just so beautiful.

The afternoon sets in with golden sunlight streaming through the trees adorning the park and, considering the nice weather — albeit for the frozen ice to be wary of — it’s the best occasion for a walk.

“Do you know swans mate for life?” You say as you skirt around a patch of frozen ice.

“Like, actually?”

“Yeah. They’re one of the few animals that do. It’s kinda cute.”

The sun is warm as it hits your skin, a great contrast to the cold wind trickling through your hair. You push your beanie down in an attempt to savor more warmth, “they’re a lot like humans in that sense.”

“Not all humans mate for life, though.”

“No, they don’t,” you pull a grimace, “though I believe that people would be happier if they just committed—woah!”

There’s no way to steady yourself when your foot goes swinging forward, body lurching back as a cry escapes your lips and if it weren’t for Chan’s arms grabbing a hold of you and pulling you to his chest, you would’ve probably gotten a big bruise all along your back.

“Thanks,” you stutter it out between chattering teeth. It’s suddenly a lot colder now, “jeez, that’s dangerous.”

“You okay?” Chan asks, arms still wrapped around your middle, not letting go.

You nod firmly and, as he slowly sets you right upon your feet once again, you notice his hand sliding down your arm to interlace his fingers with yours.

“Ha,” you can’t help but chuckle, glancing up at him, “smooth.”

He’s blushing. And yet, grinning like there’s no tomorrow, “I know.”

The rest of the evening is spent browsing through the various stalls. You try on funny Christmas hats, take photos of each other as you laugh, and get to buy some mulled wine along the way. Christmas songs are blasting through the air like a national anthem but you find you don’t mind, it when your heart feels like it’s about to burst with emotion at any given moment.

Afterwards, as Chan walks you back home — much to your protest since you live opposite ways — you ask him how long he’s been feeling this way.

His answer is a shrug, “can’t tell. I just know it happened very suddenly. One day you were just a friend, and the next—I felt like you could be something more,” he ducks his head in embarrassment, eyes finding the ground crunching underneath your feet, “the thing is, once I realized—it just made sense. You know?”

“Yeah,” a smile breaks across your face, “yeah I know what that feels like.”

Reaching your apartment too soon for your liking, you make a quick work of unlocking the door and quickly tossing your shoes aside by the wall, "woah, I'm actually very tired."

There's no response, causing you to look back at Chan, standing by the doorway and shuffling on his feet like an awkward duck.

"Uhm," his hand is back at his neck, eyes darting between you and the apartment, "I--I'm not sure I should come in."

"Wha--why not?"

"Because it doesn't seem appropriate," he blushes.

"Dude it's fine, it's not like you haven't been in here--" the thought halts you in your tracks. You bite your lip. Oh. Right. You are in an established relayionship now. It's different.

"I--I mean," you stammer out, turning back around to set the shopping bags on the table as a source of distraction, "Yeah it's fine. Just--yeah come in and stop being so awkward."

You pour him some hot chocolate and bring it over to the couch where Chan has taken his place, as still as a solid rock, and he paints such a cute picture of innocence that a grin breaks across your face upon tracing his features.

"You know, it's still just me," you try to lighten the mood in hopes that Chan would actually stop being so tense, "you don't have to sit so straight either."

"I know," taking a shaky breath, he relaxes back into the couch and it seems like a weight has suddenly lifted from his shoulders, "yeah sorry. I'm just still not used to--you know..."

"Yeah I do," your grin widens and without warning, you swoop in to peck his cheek.

He lets out a sound between a yelp and a gasp as you chuckle, "you're cute, Chan."

"Don't call me that," he narrows his eyes at you.

"But you are," you're trying your best to mask your laugh but it's impossible with him looking so offendes by your words, "I'm sorry, it's just--I can't it, you're adorable--"

"Don't test me, Y/N."

"Ooh, what's big boy Chan gonna do huh?" You lean over, eyes sparkling, "that sounds scary--hey!"

He tackles you without warning, knocking your legs out from underneath before grabbing hold of your wrists. You shriek, playfully kicking at him as he lets his weight press down on you, chest against chest, skin against skin. Pinning you down onto the couch with a breathless grin, he chuckles at the annoyance on your face.

"Not so chatty now, are we?"

His murmur washes over you. Warm, tantalizingly so. You feel youraelf melting under his touch like butter.

Is this how love is supposed to feel? He's barely doibg anything and you feel like your heart has wings.

"For someone so shy, you're quite bold," is the only thing that you manage to say, though your words trail off as his lips inch closer and closer, "Chan..."

His eyes are glazed over, dark with untold emotion as they zero in on your lips. The butterflies explode tenfold across your tummy, legs squirming together only for Chan's thigh to slide in-between to part them.

You gasp, the air catching in the back of your throat as you feel his fingers interlock with yours.

Goosebumps tickle along your skin and you swallow thickly.

He's rendering you insane just by being so close to you and you can't help but wonder; where did your best friend go?

"Y/N."

His voice is soft, raw with restraint as you still, breathing the same air for a moment. You wish you can look away because he's making you feel all sorts of things. But you find you can't, pulled in by the ghostly power of chemistry triggered between your two bodies. It's as if time stops, the entire world freezing and suspending you two in a small pocket of bliss.

You're brought back to earth by Chan's soft growl. His fingers tighten ever so slightly on yours, and you bite down onto your lower lip upon feeling a knot tighten at the base of your stomach.

Is he going to...

"I--" he licks his lips, "I want to kiss you," he pauses for a beat, then adds, "Please."

You gaze at him. Your heart skips.

Then, you dip your head into a nod.

And before you know it, he's already tilted his head to press his lips against yours.

It's not like the first time, desperate and eager and drunk.

It's neither like the second, tentative and soft and filled with all the things you wished you had told him.

It's tender, yet firm. Caring. As if Chan already knows what you want, what you need. You feel him, firm and warm pressed up against you like he'd die if he didn't. You kiss back slightly, lips nibbling on his and causing a small breath to escape his throat. reassurance, probably. But it makes you melt even further into the couch as he continues kissing your next breath away.

You can taste him. Smell him. He smells of musk and boy deodorant, the kind that makes your head all dizzy as his mouth slants against yours even more intimately, pushing and moving and tongue licking the seam of your lips. You whimper, mouth opening to allow his tongue to dance with yours as he pushes you further back into the couch.

It's only when you need air that you find yourself parting, breathless and chest heaving as you feel his nose brushing yours with eyes half-lidded like he's judt come out of a dream.

Ironic, considering that what he says next is, "I'm not...dreaming, right?"

Dishevelled locks and a pouty mouth greets you as your eyes flutter open, and something in your lower stomach churns at the intensity in his eyes. Dark and molten with desire.

"No," your murmur is barely a breath of air that caresses his face. He sighs before nuzzling his nose into your cheek, "thank god."

Impulsively, your arms wrap around his neck to pull him closer to you and he happily obliges, face finding thr crook of your neck as you pillow your cheek on the side of his head, pressing a small kiss there.

It's so magical, so surreal. Yet it feels so right to have Chan in your arms.

It's incresible what life throws your way. This entire ordeal had started as a fake relationship, an excuse, a means to an end.

And now, you couldn't inagine yourself living without it. Without him.

"I love you."

You blurt out the words before you can stop yourself and Chan stills in your arms. His head lifts slightly, eyes finding yours as one of his hands reach up to caress your cheek.

"I love you too," he murmurs, and another flood of fireworks cause your heart to melt and explode at the same time.

You can't help but kiss him again. He kisses back with just as much ardour. And you think this is it.

This is home.

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