#i am TERRIBLE w long threads but i do try ...
Note
Sunshine!reader decorating Hotch’s office w flowers nd pink things and Hotch just having to deal w it bc your smile makes it impossible for him to say no to you
hotch isn't madly in love with you, he swears. 1k fem!reader
Hotch is so surprised to see you that he says your first name rather than your last.
"What are you doing?"
You look up from his filing cabinet and smile softly. He thinks it's a wonder that your sweetness has survived so long considering where you work, that you can bring a little bit of sunshine with you no matter where you are.
"Nothing," you say.
"I doubt that."
He comes up behind you but leaves an amicable space between you, watching your fingers thread through the stalks and stems of a bouquet of whire flowers.
"They're lilies," you tell him, pulling the nicest bulb to the forefront.
He doesn't bother asking what they're for, or why you've brought them. He's sure the reason is clear in your own mind. Whatever it is, he sits down behind his desk and listens to your quiet humming.
He feels his eyebrows rise of their own accord. "What's this?"
"What?" you ask, turning to him.
He takes a pink notebook into his hand. It's a pale pink, almost white.
"Oh, that's for you." You put your hand on his chair and lean over his shoulder just enough for your perfume to tickle his nose. Slowly, you put your hand on top of his and open the book. "I know you've struggled to find time for yourself lately. I asked around, and the storehand I spoke to said that you only need five minutes every now and then to fill this in. It's to help you think about yourself, and what you want."
"What I want," he says, smiling down at the prim dotted paper.
"You know, what you want to be." You steal your hand back and move again to your bouquet. "Happy, healthy."
"I am happy and healthy."
"I know that. I think I'm just trying to encourage some selfishness in you, Hotchner. When was the last time you had," — your voice drops to a frustrated mumble as you wage war on a small leaf — "even a minute to yourself?"
He scratches the sticky residue of a pricing sticker. "Right now."
"No, you're with me right now. That is not time to yourself," you protest, grinning at him like he's the funniest guy on earth.
You ditch your flowers and gesture to the chair in front of his desk. "Can I sit down?"
"Of course."
You sit, throwing one starched pant leg over the other. He tries not to look at the stretch of your thigh. Succeeding, Hotch turns his gaze to your hands instead where you've pressed them to your neck, toying with the soft neckline of your cream sweater.
"Is there something you wanted to talk about?" he questions, puzzled by your ensuing silence.
You sink a little further into the chair. "Could I hide out with you for a while?"
"Is everything okay?"
"I love Spencer," you say genuinely, your jawline softening as you slouch in on yourself. He feels a pit beginning to form in his chest, a terrible, aching fondness for you and the way you talk. "So much. He's my best friend in the whole world…"
"But?"
"And," you correct with little malice, "lately he's been reading Dostoevsky again."
Hotch laughs. "Ah."
"Mm. Sometimes being his friend feels like being a reluctant philosophy major."
"Well, you can stay, but I have things to do."
"Of course," you say, nodding quickly. You pull your phone from your pocket. The sound of you typing is slightly grating, and the resin charms hanging from your phone case don't help, but he doesn't complain. He knows you're answering emails when his own phone beeps, a response to a case query he'd sent that morning.
At least you're working. You're probably more productive sitting with him where Reid can't distract you. Though that's unfair — you and Reid feed into one another. You do your fair share of distracting. Case in point, his new pink notebook.
His phone beeps again, and again. You've sent three emails in a row, but the third isn't in response to anything.
The subject line is abrasive. NEED YOUR ADVICE.
You've sent a list of web pages. He glances up at you but you're not looking at him, just tap tap tapping at the keys on your phone.
The first link is a monster truck. The second, a thumb piano. The more pages he opens the more confused he becomes.
"What advice?" he asks, breaking the quiet.
"Jack's birthday," you mumble without looking up. "Last year I got him that bubble machine, and it was a bust."
Hotch blinks. "He loved it."
"Yeah, but I ruined your hardwood."
He concedes, nodding his head toward his shoulder, "He uses it in the backyard."
Your phone starts to ring. "Oh, no. It's Spencer."
Hotch looks out of his office window, watching as Reid searches the office for you.
You stand up and brush yourself down. "I can avoid the unavoidable no longer." You smile at him as you had when you first saw him, a soft thing, eyelashes kissing in the corners. "Please pick whichever one is gonna give you the least grief. Hello? Hi, Spence. No, I was doing something for Hotch. Yeah, I'd love to hear about it…"
Your voice fades as you leave the room, exiting with a wave and a private smile.
Hotch lets himself sit back in his chair but resists the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. You're gonna kill him, one day, all your pinks and flowers and shy smiles. He shakes it off because he has work to do, so much work, and if he starts thinking about you he won't stop, reaching into his desk for a file and coming up short.
There's a small plate inside, saran wrap covering what looks to be a half-dozen sugar cookies. A post it note brags their origin.
For Hotch and Jack,
They didn't have any blue icing at the store. P.S. Sorry for looking in your desk. I didn't see anything, swears.♡
#aaron hotchner fluff#aaron hotchner x fem!reader#aaron hotchner x female reader#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner imagine#aaron hotchner fanfic#aaron hotchner fanfiction#criminal minds fanfic#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds#aaron hotch x reader#aaron hotch imagine#aaron hotch fanfiction#aaron hotch hotchner
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I'll be honest as I can here and try to point out that past and recent events have left me rather reluctant and paranoid about approaching even partners that do talk to me when they can.
This is mostly due to poor or limited communication or... They have a partner on the list of people that don't particularly like seeing me around and I don't want to inadvertently push anything and give them more reasons to cause problems.
I know that my plots are plain terrible right now... Stress levels are high and my writing tends to go to crap when it happens. Partners keep ghosting me or dropping threads, but I feel like what I had tried to say was way too much as it was.
Admittedly, I don't think too highly of myself considering my general reputation on Tumblr is rather poor. I'm constantly worried that I might do something clumsy or stupid and hurt people as a result.
Maybe I don't deserve to have good people, but I wouldn't exactly know. I've never had a fair trial and there's nothing I can do to defend myself. Innocent or not, the results were already concluded before they started...
I wonder how many others are going through the same. However, I can't exactly save a drowning person if I am drowning myself.
I know that I am terrible with names... And I don't like recalling the names of my accusers. It's too easy to falsify information and pretend that it's true these days... And they'd just twist the truth anyway, even if I could prove it in the end.
Besides, if I really did all those things they claim that I did... Why are they the only ones doing the very things they accused me of in the first place?
Yes, I know that I make mistakes just like everyone else, but to these people, there is no logic and reason other than their own, so the moment something exists that is contrary to their own ideas, they try to control it... And if that doesn't work, they try to kill it or suppress it.
They don't care about anyone other than themselves, they don't care about how their partners are feeling... It's all about keeping their own little world just how they like it... As it's lord and master... And to hell with someone that might change that.
Irony is that they accuse the other of doing the very things they are doing... Twisting the truth, hiding things, making it look like they were the victim, rallying anyone who supports them or is too scared to do otherwise... To "punish" someone for their supposed crimes.
It's a witch hunt disguised as a religious crusade... With neither ending well... A long trail of corpses.
All for what in the end?
Something as petty and banal as someone getting upset about someone else spelling "Color" as "Colour" making it sound like they were eating babies and trying to start World War 3.
I mean... Having a mutual partner as someone who decided that you were the Lord of evil because you can't draw anything freehand... Can just as easily get you accused of stalking them these days.
I'm not trying to dictate who or what you should do anything with or how, I just want you guys to be more careful. There's some serious nutters out there who are more than eager to set the entire site on fire if you do much as stand there and breathe in a way they don't like.
Not that I am perfect either... I have a tendency to get stand offish if I get the feeling that I might be too pushy with a partner.
On the other hand, I've been told I send too many messages by people who don't check the messages of their active blog for months and notice that I'm the only person that sent them anything at all on that time. Apparently, one was too much?
So generally... I don't know what the lines are because they seem to keep changing and these people seem like they want me to be some sort of psychic conduit that can somehow read their minds and guess what they want perfectly.
I'm sorry that For had no idea that you wanted me to magically realize that you had a fifty page application that I need to fill out before you'd give me the time of day. It wasn't in your rules and you didn't say anything.
Also, soft blocking really bothers me. Normally, I'd presume that Tumblr is being buggy again and it did the unfollowing, but I'd put it in the same category as Mutual only blogs not noticing you are there because the activity page can't be trusted... And neither can the rest of Tumblr itself.
If I haven't said anything... It's usually because I haven't noticed, I'm not sure what to say, or I don't exactly trust things well enough to say anything.
I'd keep on Rambling like this, but these posts don't usually fix anything and I've been up until 5:30 in the morning, so... I should stop.
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fluffy make out sesh w petey? <3
call it even
w/c: 1,074
warnings: like two swears?
a/n: i don’t know why this ended up being so long but it did lmfhwjwhs i hope it’s everything u wanted and more :D
-
“god, how much time is left?” you complain, circling your index finger around peter’s chest.
peter refuses to expand his horizons beyond star wars, so you two are watching revenge of the sith yet again. you’re seated in his lap and doing everything you can to get his attention. it’s the only way you’ll be able to make it through the damn movie.
unfortunately for you, peter has a huge crush on anakin. that means his eyes are literally glued to the screen.
“we’re not even halfway through yet. get comfortable, babe,” peter smugly replies. he grabs your hips and squeezes, cocking his head to the side to see better. you tilt your own head so it’s blocking his line of vision. “i am comfortable… very. are you?” your voice drops an octave.
a smirk crossing his features, peter finally meets your eyes. “i know what you’re trying to do, and it’s not gonna work.” you gasp to feign innocence. “silly old me? what ever are you talking about, peter dearest?”
peter moves an arm so it’s around your lower back, you batting your lashes down at him. you yank on his flannel collar to keep him in place. he leans in closer to you until his lips brush the shell of your ear.
he’s all yours.
“i appreciate the effort. now, if you don’t mind…”
peter pulls away from you with a terrible wink that’s stupidly adorable, but you’re too annoyed to admit it.
you give up your facade, swapping it for whining and tugging on peter’s shirt. “no fair! all i want you to do is spend some time with me, petey.” gazing over your shoulder, you shoot the tv a death glare. “fuck george lucas.”
“woah, woah! don’t go that far!” peter defends, chuckling nevertheless. he does feel kind of bad because he has seen star wars more than anyone else on this earth. it wouldn’t kill him to focus on you for a bit.
although, he’d still like to finish the movie.
peter brings your body in closer to his, pecking your forehead softly. “let’s make a deal,” he prompts you. you eagerly nod and sit up straighter. “i’ll give you as many hugs and kisses as you’d like-“
“perfect! you and that big brain of yours, my smart boy.” puckering up, you go right in for a smooch. peter holds out a finger and presses it to your lips to stop you, beaming. “i’m not done,” he laughs out. “i’ll give you as many hugs and kisses as you’d like, after the movie is over.”
you scoff and shove both peter’s shoulders. “why can’t you just multitask? you’d be getting the best of both worlds!” peter does not consider it. “and risk missing the most intense lightsaber duel in cinematic history? i don’t think so.”
“whatever you say… loser,” you mutter under your breath. he coaxes you away from him, keeping his arms around your waist with a scowl. “do you want your kisses or not, y/n?” this time, your mouth stays shut. “exactly,” peter concludes. “new deal, i’ll level with you and cuddle for a while.”
he hugs you to his chest, chin resting lightly on your head. you instantly settle in his warm embrace and feel safe in his strong arms. this will do.
“love you, petey,” you mumble against the skin of his neck. smiling to himself, peter peeks back up at the tv. “love you too, angel. but, shhh,” he shushes, resuming his millionth star wars viewing.
just like that, you’ve been replaced by darth vader. you need to fix this, and fast.
it doesn’t take peter too long to lose himself in the movie, which plays out in your favor for once. he just mindlessly rocks you side to side while he watches. his obliviousness, more so than usual, gives you the opportunity to reach over on the cushion next to you and grab the remote.
bingo.
you swiftly hit the power button, hiding it behind your back and eliciting a yelp from peter.
“y/n, what the hell? we had a compromise!” peter demands and lunges forward for the remote. grinning wickedly, you tuck it into your back pocket before he can. “we also had a deal, remember? movie’s over,” you elaborate. “kiss me, loser.”
peter can’t argue with that logic.
“sneaky,” he compliments, his forehead leaned against yours. his fingertips ghost over your chin. “i’m so impressed, i can’t even be mad. you win.” giggling, you place your hands on peter’s shoulders to balance yourself in his lap. “well, you’re the prize.”
“ugh, i love you so much,” peter sighs. he kisses your bottom lip gently, holding your chin between two fingers. “more than star wars?” you search for his hazel eyes. “more than star wars… all three trilogies,” he murmurs a sentence you never thought you’d hear.
your eyelashes tickle peter’s face, both of you sharing matching smiles.
“in that case…”
you close the small gap separating you two with your lips on his. peter reciprocates in a heartbeat, his own quickened as he melts into the kiss. one of your hands weaves its way to some fluffy curls at the nape of his neck. he cups your cheek tenderly, free hand on your side and a grin spreading across his face.
“i love you, too,” you whisper, your legs straddling his waist. “could tell,” peter acknowledges in a breathy laugh.
he uses the new position to his advantage and flips you so you’re laying down on the couch. him on top, you under and your legs still around him. the next kiss is initiated by peter, so soft it fills your whole body with butterflies. he continues to caress your cheek while his lips dance expertly with yours.
“you taste good,” you rasp, peter kissing up to the tip of your nose. “like what?” he wonders and punctuates his question with another kiss to the bridge. you’re sitting back and enjoying every second. “i dunno, something sweet… vanilla?”
“oh, yeah. i might’ve stolen your chapstick,” peter admits, his cheeks starting to feel hot. amused, you pinch one of them. “i was wondering where that went. i should’ve known ‘cuz you always ask me about it.” he dips down so his forehead falls on yours once again. “buy you a new one?”
your fingers thread through his locks, willing him to look at you.
“just kiss me, and we’ll call it even.”
#peter parker#peter parker fluff#peter parker imagine#peter parker x reader#peter parker x y/n#peter parker x you#peter parker fanfiction#peter parker fic#peter parker oneshot#peter parker smut#tom holland#tom holland fluff#tom holland x reader#tom holland x you#tom holland x y/n#tom holland imagine#tom holland fic#tom holland fanfiction
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Tears of Themis: Xia Yan/Luke 【妄夜之魇】 Looming Nightmare - Date Translation
Translation Masterlist | Xia Yan Masterlist | Unsubbed Video
Transcript below cut:
✼ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ✼
Part 1
Forest
In the morning, a group of villagers walked slowly through the forest’s rocks and mud.
Nearby, a young man dressed as a knight noticed them.
Luke: Please wait!
The young man pushed aside the dense branches, rushing over to the villagers.
Villager Captain: You are…?
Luke: My apologies for troubling you all. I’m Luke Pearce, a knight.
As he spoke, he balled up his left hand and placed it before his chest, displaying a standard gesture of courtesy to the villagers.
Villager Captain: So you’re a knight. Greetings, is anything the matter?
Luke: I’d like to ask you all if there is anyone who knows where the evil dragon is?
Villager A: E-evil dragon?!
When they heard “evil dragon”, a momentary fear displayed on all the villagers’ faces.
The whispers among them gradually grew louder, and the originally calm group gradually began to lose control.
Villager A: W-why are you searching for the evil dragon…
Villager B: Why are you asking about that beast’s whereabouts?! Are you trying to get it to come over here again?!
Villager B: O-our village, it…
Villager Captain: Calm down.
The young captain placed a hand on the shoulder of the middle-aged man to calm him down temporarily.
Villager Captain: We were impolite. Sir Knight, none of us have malicious intentions. It’s just…
Luke: Were… you all also attacked by the dragon?
Villager Captain: Indeed…
The young man sighed.
Villager Captain: We originally lived in a nearby village. Three days ago, our village was attacked by that dragon.
Villager Captain: The flames it breathes, and its massive wings that kick up gales when they beat…
Villager Captain: That’s how our houses and fields were thoroughly annihilated.
Villager Captain: Many villagers that couldn’t escape were left forever in those ruins.
Villager Captain: But that dragon didn’t stop there. It… even carried off lots of innocent people.
Villager Captain: That’s what happened to my wife and that grandma’s only daughter.
Villager Captain: We don’t even know if they’re still alive.
The young man spoke until his voice faded. The hands that hung on his sides were tightly clenched, like he was trying to control his emotions.
Villager Captain: Like us, lots and lots of villages and cities have been destroyed by it in the past several days.
Villager Captain: Those attacked by it can only flee in search of a temporary safe place.
Villager Captain: We…
Luke: … I’m sorry for making you recall such horrible things.
The young knight lowered his head in apology.
Luke: On my journey, I’ve also heard lots about its terrible actions.
Luke: When I saw you all from far away, I thought you were all normal passersby. I didn’t think…
Villager Captain: It’s alright. We do have to learn to face this eventually.
Villager Captain: Although, Sir Knight, why are you looking for that dragon?
Luke: Because…
A flash of desolation appeared on the knight’s face.
Luke: Because I’m looking for someone who is incredibly important to me.
✼ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ✼
[Flashback]
Fortune-Telling Location
The fortune-teller fiddled playfully with the crystal ball in her hands. The lights floating in the air moved as she did.
With a sliver of curiosity on her features, she lifted her gaze and looked over her visitor, then placed her hands piously in front of her chest.
Fortune-teller: Esteemed Sir Knight, may I ask why you are here?
Luke: …
The knight’s rigid body leaned forward slightly, an unconcealable urgency and distress in his eyes.
Luke: I want to find someone. She’s vanished, and I have no idea where she is.
Fortune-teller: Oh? Find someone? Who might it be?
Luke: Someone… that grew up with me since childhood.
Fortune-teller: Someone that grew up with you?
Luke: Yes.
He released a deep sigh.
Luke: It’s been eight years since the start of the war.
Luke: The day I left for battle, I promised her that I would return home safely and live with her forever, never to leave again.
Luke: But after the war ended and I returned to the village, all that welcomed me was an empty house.
Luke: I asked everyone around about where she went, but they all said that she suddenly vanished one day.
Luke: Only after did I find out that everyone had thought that I’d died in battle.
Luke: She…
The knight grasped tight on the longsword in his hands. The ruby on the hilt flashed faintly in the darkness.
The fortune-teller leaned against the table, holding her chin with her hand.
Fortune-teller: Have you ever thought that she just couldn’t keep waiting anymore, or that she might have moved elsewhere because she thought you were dead?
Luke: She wouldn’t. We’ve lived together for so many years. I know best about what sort of person she is.
Luke: I know that even if I made her sad or if everyone said I was dead…
Luke: As long as she hasn’t seen my corpse, she won’t give up, and she’ll keep waiting for me…
Luke: … Something must have happened for her to choose to leave without a farewell.
Luke: So, I want to find her. I want to know what exactly happened.
The young knight’s voice gradually weakened, until it was nearly inaudible.
The fortune-teller tittered quietly.
Fortune-teller: I understand. Then, please wait a moment—
She placed her hand on the crystal ball. As the lights and shadows drifted, an image of a dragon occupying the plains gradually appeared.
Luke: This is…?
Fortune-teller: Do you know of the legend of the evil dragon?
Luke: Evil dragon?
Fortune-teller: Yes. This dragon runs amok over the continent, scattering destruction and annihilation everywhere…
Fortune-teller: Its evil reputation is now common knowledge among all people.
Luke: But what does that have to do with her?
Fortune-teller: I am unsure of the exact connection it has to her, but based on the image in the crystal ball…
Fortune-teller: You just need to kill the dragon and obtain the treasure chest it protects to discover the way to find her.
Luke: …
Luke: Are you sure?
Fortune-teller: Of course. My divinations have never been wrong. If not, Sir Knight…
The fortune-teller unconsciously knocked a few times on the crystal ball, and a clear sound reverberated in the room.
Fortune-teller: Then you wouldn’t have come to find me, correct?
Luke: … They say that you are the greatest fortune-teller on the continent, and that there’s nothing you don’t know.
Fortune-teller: Which is even more reason for you to believe me, no?
Luke: …
The knight nodded ponderously.
Luke: I understand. Where is the dragon right now?
Fortune-teller: That’s for you to find out.
Fortune-teller: However, there is something that you must think over first.
Fortune-teller: You are a brave and martially skilled knight, but the path ahead may be much more dangerous than you imagine.
Fortune-teller: Even if so, will you still proceed?
Luke: Yes, I must.
Fortune-teller: Even if the price it requires is your everything?
[Flashback end]
✼ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ✼
Luke: So I can only do as the fortune-teller instructed, travelling as I search for clues on the dragon.
Villager Captain: It seems like the person you’re looking for… must have been captured by the dragon too.
When he finished listening to the knight’s story, the captain gave a quick conclusion.
Villager Captain: The young lady you’re looking for isn’t the only one. In the past while, that dragon has already captured many good girls.
Villager Captain: Many noble ladies and wives in the city weren’t even spared.
Luke: Then… has anyone ever returned among those who were captured?
Villager B: No – no one has ever seen them again after they were taken.
Villager B: Whether the dragon has hurt them, whether they’re still alive, or where they’re kept… no one knows anything.
Luke: No one knows anything, huh…
Luke: If no one knows, that means there’s still hope, right?
The knight suddenly lifted his head, looking firmly at the villagers.
Part 2
Forest
In the forest, the young knight faced the villagers, his gaze firm.
Luke: If no one knows, that means there’s still hope, right?
Villager B: This…
Looking at the villagers’ somewhat hesitant expressions, the knight smiled slightly.
Luke: I understand your concerns, but to me, as long as there is still one thread of opportunity, I will definitely not give up.
Luke: So…
Luke: Please, do any of you know anything at all about the dragon?
Villager Captain: …
The villagers looked at each other. The young captain tilted his head as if trying to recall something.
Villager Captain: I don’t know much about the dragon, but…
Villager Captain: Three days ago, when I was fleeing the village, I think I saw that dragon flying towards the highest mountain peak on the northeast of this forest.
Luke: The peaks in the northeast…
The knight looked towards the direction that the villager captain was pointing towards. He could vaguely see the shape of a mountain peak there.
Villager Captain: Yes, but that mountain is farther from here than it looks.
Villager Captain: Plus, there’s also a path full of thorns at the end of this forest that normal people can’t get through at all.
Villager Captain: Currently, not many people have gone there, so I can’t be sure if the dragon is actually there.
Luke: Is that so… but it’s worth a try.
Villager B: Uh… I’ve also heard a little about the dragon.
The formerly irritable middle-aged man, possibly being moved by the words earlier, hesitated for a moment before he spoke.
Villager B: That dragon probably does live on that mountain peak.
Luke: Are you sure?
Villager B: Yes. Two weeks ago, an artisan from the city went with his brothers there.
Villager B: But several days later, aside from a young man, no one in that group returned.
Villager B: That young man said that they were attacked by that beast on the mountain…
Villager B: But sadly, his wounds were too grave, and he passed away a few days later.
Villager B: After that, no matter how much money the city nobles offered, no one else dared to go put their lives on their line.
Villager B: We also…
The middle-aged man sighed.
Villager B: We’ve… given up already.
Luke: …I understand. Thank you all for giving me so much information.
Luke: It’s not that early anymore, and I need to head for that mountain, so I’ll be heading off.
Villager B: Sir Knight, are you really going to look for that dragon?
Villager B: With how massive and brutish that dragon is, it’ll kill you!
Villager B: You don’t know how that young man who returned…
Luke: Thank you for your concerns, but this is a promise I made with her. No matter how difficult the path forward is…
The young knight looked straight at the group in front of him, his voice firm and resolute.
He spoke each word emphatically, answering the question earlier, yet seeming more like he was telling himself.
Luke: No matter how difficult the path forward is, even if everyone has given up, I will not stop moving forward.
Villager B: …
Villager Captain: …
The villagers fell silent for a moment.
A long moment after, the young captain spoke.
Villager Captain: Sir Knight, since you’ve made your decision to go, we have no reason to continue trying to persuade you.
Villager Captain: The road ahead will be difficult, and defeating the dragon is sure to be no easy task…
Villager Captain: All we can do is to pray that you find the one you love quickly and return safely.
Luke: Thank you, everyone.
The knight made a sincere gesture of courtesy again towards the villagers, then turned around and walked into the depths of the forest.
✼ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ✼
Plains
After a long trek, the young knight bypassed that rumoured thorny block and arrived at the wilds outside the forest.
Luke: …
Though it was called the wilds, all the plants had long been burned into crisps. Black dust had settled densely over the rocks.
A massive mountain stood at the edge of his range of vision. A dense black fog lingered over the peak, quiet and strange.
At the foot of the mountain, many volcanoes and short rock mounds created continuous undulations, extending to the horizon.
Luke: …
He lifted his head and looked towards the faraway sky. The red light of the pre-sunset sun was harshly dazzling.
Luke: A precursor to the solar eclipse, huh…
Luke: Maybe it really is as the person before said…
✼ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ✼
[Flashback]
Villager B: Sir Knight, before passing, that person who returned said…
Villager B: On the day of a solar eclipse, it seems like the dragon’s strength will weaken.
Luke: Weaken?
Villager B: Yes, that person kept repeating this before he passed, so I remember it very clearly.
Villager B: If you really must get near it, maybe you can choose this day.
Luke: … Understood.
[Flashback]
✼ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ✼
Luke: …
Luke: Based on the appearance of the sun, the eclipse will only start tomorrow…
Luke: The volcanoes around look pretty unstable right now. Now is definitely not the best time to act.
Luke: I’ll build a temporary residence near the forest and wait for a chance.
✼ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ✼
Temporary Residence
In the wooden hut, the knight was in the middle of pre-battle preparations.
Luke: …
He cleaned his sword in the firelight. When his gaze brushed over the ruby on the hilt, he fell into a momentary trance.
Luke: …
Luke: …
Luke: Soon, I’ll be able to see you again.
Luke: Right?
Luke: …
In the empty room, the only response he received was the crackling of burning firewood.
The young knight lowered his head.
The emotions that he had continuously restrained quietly trickled out where no one could hear, under the comfort of the moonlight.
Luke: I’m sorry… I couldn’t contact you even once for so long…
Luke: You must have been so worried during then…
Luke: …
Luke: I wonder how you’re doing right now, and if you’ve encountered any danger…
Luke: Were you scared, facing that dragon alone? Were you injured?
Luke: Don’t be scared, I’ll save you very soon.
The wind blew past soundlessly. In the quiet hut, the knight’s voice became clearer and clearer.
It seemed as if a burning flame had ignited in his eyes. The moonlight shone in, casting light over the entirety of the room.
Luke: We promised that no matter what happened, you wouldn’t leave, and we’d always be together…
Luke: I won’t let you bear everything on your own anymore.
Luke: It’ll be tomorrow… wait for me.
He smiled, his fingertips brushing over his own reflection in the ruby.
Luke: Goodnight.
The knight placed his sword by his side and sank into a shallow sleep.
Just like all the nights in the past many years.
Part 3
Garrison Camp
Troop Leader: Hey, Luke, you returned with perfect timing.
Troop Leader: Just finished bringing over the new delivery of rations. I brought you the letter from the one at your home.
When he saw the person who was placing the letter on his bed, the knight shook his head helplessly.
Luke: Leader, we’re still in the troops right now. Even if you want to address her…
Troop Leader: Alright, alright. The letter that your wife sent, does that work?
Luke: We haven’t gotten married yet…
Troop Leader: Hahahahaha—
Troop Leader: Hey, honestly though, Miss MC really does treat you well.
Troop Leader: I have no idea how she managed to get that many rations and letters sent over here.
Troop Leader: If I remember right, she’s just a commoner, right? The type without even a fief. Tsk tsk tsk, she really is good.
As he teased him, the leader came up to the side of the bed, jokingly bumping against the young knight’s shoulder.
Troop Leader: Luke, I feel like she’s even more proactive than you. Bring out your knight’s spirit already!
Troop Leader: Though we can’t contact the outside world, I’m cheering you on inside, yeah?
Luke: Thanks, leader.
Luke: Although there’s something you’ve gotten wrong. Though I can’t send her replies…
He layered the letters together, placing them in the closest spot to his heart in his armour.
Luke: This is my answer to her. My heart is always with her.
Luke: The day the war ends, I will return to her side, safe and sound.
Luke: When that time comes, I won’t leave her ever again.
✼ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ✼
Forest
Luke: …
When he saw the multiple letters in front of him, the young knight sunk into his memories.
To prepare for the nearing battle, he came to the riverside at dawn to change the medicines on the wounds he received in the war.
Luke: Back then, I thought that I would be able to reunite with you after the war ended.
Luke: We’d then be able to be like thousands of other normal people, living out our lives healthily and safely.
Luke: But I never thought…
He couldn’t help grasping tight on the letter papers.
Luke: Did you know that during those eight years, I kept thinking about you over and over, speaking on my own, just like this?
Luke: I remember every single thing you wrote to me about.
Luke: You said that the neighbouring auntie’s puppy stepped all over the rose garden at the doorway again.
Luke: You said that the honey that a friend gave you was very sweet, and you wanted to see the bee yard too, but you didn’t go because you knew I wouldn’t agree.
Luke: And so much more… I’ve remembered every single thing perfectly.
Luke: I… really… miss you.
The knight couldn’t help covering his face with his hand, as certain crystalline things fell slowly between his fingers.
A few minutes later, he took a deep breath, then put down his hand.
Luke: This is bad, I lost control of my emotions for a moment.
Luke: I wasn’t even that sad last night, but maybe it’s because I saw you in my dreams again, so I…
Luke: Now isn’t the time to be sentimental. I’ve got to bolster myself to face the upcoming battle.
The sunlight shone into the forest, past the gaps between the swaying leaves, falling dappled on the knight’s armour.
Far away, the sun displayed a light that was different from normal.
Luke: Is it coming…
He quickly put on his clothes and grasped onto his sword again.
Luke: Wait for me.
✼ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ✼
Plains
Because he had already crossed over the forest once, the knight arrived at the plains much faster than before.
Clouds smothered the originally-blue skies. The roars of the dragon resounded nonstop at the horizon, and the air was heavy enough to make breathing difficult.
Luke: …
Suddenly, the roars of the dragon became unusually clear. A massive black shadow rushed down from the mountain peak, gradually nearing the centre of the plains.
Luke: !!!
Luke: This is my chance!
The knight immediately broke into a sprint towards the black shadow.
Evil Dragon: Roar—
The moment he arrived at the centre of the plains, the dragon was landing with two young villagers in its claws.
The two people tossed on the round tumbled a few times. Tears covered their faces, and their hands were tightly clasped.
Luke: !!!
Luke: Run!
The knight threw a wooden gun towards the dragon, then yanked out the dagger at his waist and threw it backhandedly on the ground near the forest.
He loaded an arrow as he sprinted towards the dragon.
Luke: Take that dagger and get out through the forest now!
Luke: I’ve left markers on the path. Follow those!
Female Villager: O-okay… tha-thank you!
The pitiful villagers tremblingly picked up the dagger and ran towards the forest as they supported each other.
They passed by the young man, kicking up sand and stone. The two sides of the battlefield changed in a flash.
Luke: …
The knight did not look back to the already faraway villagers. He calmly set his hands on the bow.
The dragon roared furiously at him, spitting a ball of fire.
Evil Dragon: Roar—
Luke: …
The knight stepped swiftly off the rocks in front of him, resolutely loosing an arrow towards the dragon, sidestepping the close call of the fire.
Luke: This won’t do. It’s too fast.
Luke: I won’t be able to dodge at all with speeds like that…
Evil Dragon: Roar—
Luke: !!!
Without giving the knight room to think, the dragon launched its second attack.
It looked again at the person in front of it and spat out a large amount of fire. The flickering firelight lit up the entire desolate plains.
The knight dodged the attack. The winds surged, the glint of the blade shone, and the surroundings continuously heated up.
Luke: …
Luke: This is how strong it is when it’s weakened?
Luke: If this keeps going, I’ll lose all my footholds.
Luke: What do I do…
His brow wrinkled tightly, looking at the dragon that had built up its power and was waiting to attack again. His hands held his hilt tight—
Evil Dragon: Roar—
The dragon opened its mouth wide, flying towards the young man.
Rocks were sent flying from the intense movements of the two opponents. The knight planted his feet on the shards of rock, both of his hands gripping his longsword.
Evil Dragon: Roar—
Luke: Want to kill me? Keep dreaming!
As if he couldn’t hear the dragon’s roars at all, he was completely focused on looking for a chance to attack.
Luke: If it’s the instant before it breathes fire… as long as I grab that chance…
Luke: If I can strike your vitals…
Luke: I’ll still have a chance!
Evil Dragon: Roar—
The dragon threw back its head, releasing a long roar towards the skies.
Luke: Now!
The knight lifted the sword and sprinted up to the dragon, slashing down on the dragon’s neck with all his strength.
Evil Dragon: Roar—
Blood sprayed, and the massive creature struggled, writhing, and finally spread its wings, flying off towards the heights.
Luke: Don’t even think about escaping!
The young man ran up, and three arrows cut through the air.
Howling winds blew as the eclipse fully set in. On the faraway peaks, the contours of a black castle could suddenly be seen.
Evil Dragon: Roar—
The dragon dodged the arrows, roaring in pain, then escaped in flight towards the faraway castle.
Luke: It all ends here.
The young knight discarded his longbow and gripped at his sword, planning to chase after the dragon.
However, right then, a pattern of lights shone from the astrolabe he was carrying.
He froze for a moment and thought back on what the fortune-teller had told him before—
✼ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ✼
[Flashback]
Fortune-Telling Location
Fortune-Teller: Wait.
Fortune-Teller: Keep this with you.
The fortune-teller called out to the young man who was on the verge of leaving and handed a metal astrolabe to him.
Luke: This is…?
Fortune-Teller: If the astrolabe starts flashing, it’s a warning from me to stop fighting immediately.
Luke: … I am well aware of when I should stop.
Fortune-Teller: Sir Knight, you do indeed have lots of fighting experience.
Fortune-Teller: But I am the only one who can help you, so trust me, alright?
Luke: …
[Flashback end]
✼ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ✼
Luke: …
Luke: Ouch…
The knight frowned in pain, as if he had finally come to his senses from the tense atmosphere, and looked over himself out of habit.
Luke: !!!
The dark armour had long been stained in blood, and some of the parts that were exposed were covered in wounds of all sizes.
Luke: I was… injured this badly?
Luke: Sure enough… that dragon’s strength…
He ultimately decided to stop.
Part 4
Temporary Residence
The knight closed the door to the residence.
He leaned on the wall, like an injured little animal.
Luke: How could this be…
Luke: Is the difference in strength between me and that dragon that big?
Luke: How am I going to save her at this point… I…
The astrolabe beside him shone again. Then, after a flash of white light at the doorway, the fortune-teller pushed open the door.
Luke: It’s you?
Fortune-Teller: Sir Knight, I hope you have been well since our last meeting.
The fortune-teller looked over the person in front of her, her eyes squinting slightly.
Fortune-Teller: Looks like you listened to what I told you. Well done.
Luke: …
Fortune-Teller: This expression… were you not willing to give up?
Luke: None of your business.
Fortune-Teller: None of my business… haha, do you remember what I said back then?
Luke: …
✼ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ✼
[Flashback]
Fortune-Teller: You are a brave and martially skilled knight, but the path ahead may be much more dangerous than you imagine.
Fortune-Teller: Even if so, will you still proceed?
Luke: Yes, I must.
Fortune-Teller: Even if the price it requires is your everything?
[Flashback end]
✼ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ✼
Luke: …
Fortune-Teller: Has reality now changed your mind?
Luke: No. No matter when, I will not change my mind.
Fortune-Teller: Will not change? Then… what can you do?
Fortune-Teller: You must have realized the natural difference in strength between you and the dragon from battling.
Fortune-Teller: It looked like you won the battle, but what are the results?
Fortune-Teller: Even while it was weakened during the solar eclipse, the only effective attack you landed was that single slash.
Fortune-Teller: While you…
The fortune-teller looked at the young knight’s right arm, mottled with blood and some burn marks.
Fortune-Teller: You’re covered in wounds already. How much longer can you hold on for?
Luke: …
Luke: I don’t know. All I know is that I can’t give up. I must get that treasure chest and find her.
Luke: I don’t want to think about anything else.
Fortune-Teller: … Is it worth it?
The fortune-teller went silent for a moment, then asked this question suddenly.
Luke: It is.
Luke: I promised her that I’d return to her, that I’d safely tell her that everything had ended, that we would never be apart from then on.
Luke: I think about her every day, and I look forward to seeing her again every day. I’ve reread each of the letters she sent too many times to count.
Luke: She is my everything. I won’t just give up like this.
Fortune-Teller: … So you plan to seek out that dragon again?
Luke: Yes, and I don’t only plan to find it…
Luke: As you said, I will defeat and kill it, no matter what the price is that I must pay.
Fortune-Teller: … I understand.
Fortune-Teller: Then let me tell you one more thing.
Luke: ???
Fortune-Teller: Do you know why that dragon always flies towards that castle?
Luke: Do you mean that the treasure chest is…
Fortune-Teller: Yes. It’s because the box that it values the most is in the castle…
Fortune-Teller: When it is attacked, it will naturally return there.
Fortune-Teller: In ten days, the eclipse will end, and the sky will return to normal.
Fortune-Teller: The skies before daybreak are always the darkest…
Fortune-Teller: In ten days, when the sky is lightening, the dragon’s power will be at its weakest.
Fortune-Teller: It will also lose the ability to breathe fire.
Fortune-Teller: If you must go, go on that day.
Luke: !!!
Luke: Thank you.
Fortune-Teller: No need for thanks, but Sir Knight, let me give you one last warning.
Fortune-Teller: The path you have chosen is full of the unknown. I hope you will not regret this in the future.
Luke: I am sure that I won’t.
Fortune-Teller: That would be best.
The fortune-teller looked at the knight, smiled strangely, then left.
✼ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ✼
After the knight cleaned his wounds, he finally had some time to rest.
Like usual, he stood his sword by his side. When he looked over the ruby on the hilt, he suddenly stopped.
Luke: This ruby… you gave it to me.
He gently stroked it, his warm breath leaving a mist on the gem with his movements.
Luke: I remember on the day I set out, you stood at the very front of those who were sending off the troops, a total mess of tears.
Luke: I was the one who was leaving, but you were even more agitated than me.
Luke: You kept reminding me to take care of myself, to not force myself.
Luke: Then I held your face with a smile, telling you that it wasn’t like I wouldn’t return.
Luke: …
The knight suddenly turned away.
Only when he was able to smile again did he turn his head back, as if everything before had just been an illusion.
Luke: Before I left, you took off a ruby from the mirror you always used and embedded it on my sword.
Luke: You said that a highly skilled person gave you that mirror, and it had magical power.
Luke: Especially these rubies, which represent inextinguishable fire and burning vitality.
Luke: We made a promise together, and then you watched me mount the horse, but I never looked back.
Luke: I thought that I would be able to see you soon after the war ended.
Luke: But now that I think about it, I should have taken one more look at you back then.
A slight bitterness appeared on the young knight’s face, but it was soon replaced by his usual expression.
He laid down on the bed, looking at the fluid moonlight in the sky.
Luke: Did you know that there’s something that I didn’t tell you back then?
Luke: Rubies don’t only represent fervour and life. They also represent love.
Luke: I told myself that after the war, I would confess to you, and let this ruby bear witness to our love.
Luke: So, please wait a little more for me.
Luke: There are still ten days.
Luke: No matter what the price is, I will be the victor.
The knight mumbled as he slowly closed his eyes.
Outside the hut, a black mist rose, then vanished in the silence. The moment that the smoke dissipated, a woman’s quiet laugh seemed to sound from deep within.
✼ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ✼
Plains
Ten days later, as the fortune-teller said, the young knight made his way towards the old castle.
But he did not successfully reach his destination, because on the plains under the castle…
Evil Dragon: Roar—
Luke: …
Luke: Are you here to obstruct me?
Evil Dragon: Roar—
Luke: Looks like the fortune-teller was telling the truth. The treasure chest really is in the castle.
Luke: So it must also be true that you’re at your weakest today.
Evil Dragon: Roar—
As if in response to the knight’s words, the dragon snarled in fury. Its massive claws beat heavily on the ground, drawing up plumes of dust.
The knight retreated a few steps, held up his longsword, and stood in battle stance.
Evil Dragon: Roar—
Luke: …
Luke: You sure look enthusiastic.
Evil Dragon: Roar—
Luke: Perfect, then. Let’s have a fierce battle this time.
Luke: This is the last chance. I won’t let you escape again.
Evil Dragon: Roar—
Luke: …
At the edge of the sky, the black sun that had persisted for ten days started to “move”. The light of tiny stars shone through the air, casting light on the person and dragon.
The knight lifted his sword.
Luke: Let’s start.
Dust flew as the shining sword blade cut through. Both human and dragon soon were immersed in intensive battle.
Their battlegrounds shifted several times, from the plains to the mountain peak, finally arriving to the front of the castle’s door.
The eclipse was slowly retreating, and the dark sky was beginning to show its original hue.
Compared to last time, the battle this time lasted for a very, very long time.
✼ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ✼
Old Castle on the Peak
Luke: Urk…
The knight brandished his longsword, pushing himself to block the dragon’s attack.
The originally flat field had already been ruined to the point where it was difficult to stand on. Thunder boomed intermittently as dark clouds accumulated above.
Evil Dragon: Roar—
The massive dragon moved again.
Luke: Ow…
Luke: …
This time, the knight’s resistance started to become sluggish.
Scorching blood sprayed out. He lost his footing, falling brutally onto the ground.
Luke: Ugh…!
Luke: No… I can’t fall yet…
He stabbed the longsword into the ground with difficulty and stood staggeringly up again.
He looked at his enemy, his bloodied, dirtied face full of resolution.
Luke: Ha… what sort of battle is this? Just a bunch of mutual killing attempts…
Luke: But did you think I’d be scared? Stop kidding around.
Luke: You have no idea what sorts of emotions I put behind each slash.
Evil Dragon: Roar—
Luke: Although, you don’t need to know, because…
The knight suddenly brandished his sword and rushed at the massive dragon.
Evil Dragon: Roar—
For an instant, the heavens and earth shook. Dust and sand flew as the world was submerged in chaos.
Only the knight’s shouts cut through the air, transmitting into each and every crevice.
Luke: Even though – even though there’s no way you can hear this right now…
Luke: But, I’m sorry… I’m sorry!
Luke: I’m sorry for leaving you all alone for these eight years. I’m sorry for letting you face the dragon yourself after the eight years.
Evil Dragon: Roar—
Luke: Do you know how scared I was when I returned to the village, yet didn’t see you at all…
Luke: I was scared that I would never see you again. I was scared that I couldn’t save you…
Evil Dragon: Roar—
Luke: Let me see you again, alright?
Luke: Even one instant, one second is enough!
Bang--!
After an enormous sound of collision, the young man was knocked through the air onto the ground, sliding to a faraway cliff, to the very edge.
But this time, it seemed like he didn’t have the strength to stand again.
Luke: …
Luke: Does it… all end here…
Luke: But I… you…
Boom—
A downpour of rain suddenly started.
Part 5
A downpour suddenly started.
Rain struck against the ground audibly, falling on the young knight’s body, flowing towards where the blood and water had accumulated.
Evil Dragon: Roar—
Luke: Am I just… going to lose like this?
The knight couldn’t control his gasps.
Luke: But…
Luke: I still… can’t bear to give in.
Luke: I still haven’t found her… I still haven’t seen her… I …
His voice was full of an unrestrained frustration and helplessness.
He tried, or even forced, himself to keep his heavy eyelids open.
Luke: …
Silence suddenly descended.
It seemed like the rain had weakened, and a small sound was resounding through the air.
Luke: !!!
The knight suddenly opened his eyes wide.
Luke: Is that you?! Is that you, MC?!
He struggled, reaching out into the emptiness.
The black mist suddenly surged over from all directions, winding around the knight’s hand, as if in a gentle “embrace”.
The knight suddenly smiled.
Luke: Are you trying to comfort me?
Luke: Mhmm, I’m not scared. Whether they’re happy things or painful things…
Luke: I don’t care about any of that anymore.
He slowly stood his sword upright, staggeringly standing up.
Evil Dragon: Roar—
Luke: I will… keep going until the final moment…
Luke: MC, you are my strength, and I will fight for you until the end of my life.
Evil Dragon: …
The dragon’s movements suddenly stopped.
It looked at the human in front of it without moving in the slightest, and it seemed as if a light had flashed in its terrifying eyes.
Luke: …
Luke: Now!
The knight brandished his sword for the last time, stabbing it deeply into the heart of the dragon.
This time, the dragon did not struggle nor attack back. It remained in its spread-winged posture as it toppled with a boom.
The turbid blood flowed out from the wound, and soon, its breathing stopped completely.
Luke: H-has it ended?
The knight slowly walked up to the dragon’s corpse. After repeated confirmations, he released a sigh, as if he had been freed from a heavy burden.
Luke: Next… I just need to find the dragon’s treasure chest to find you. Wait for me.
✼ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ✼
Old Castle Interior
The knight pushed open the door to the castle.
Just as the fortune-teller said, there was a treasure chest placed in the centre of the large room.
Luke: …
He knelt with one knee to the ground, brushing off the dust on the chest.
The moment he opened the chest saw what was inside, he displayed a shocked expression.
Luke: This is…?
A mirror inlaid with ruby sat quietly on the top of the chest.
The knight reached out with both hands, carefully holding the item in front of him.
Luke: Isn’t this the one you usually use…
Luke: Ah!
Suddenly, the gem on the mirror flashed with a dazzling light.
As if induced, the ruby on the hilt of the longsword beside the knight started to shine too.
They shone together, blindingly bright.
Luke: …
Amidst the light, multiple images gradually appeared in the mirror, like a light carousel—
Luke: !!!
In that familiar village, the young woman suddenly lifted her head as she trimmed the plants, her scissors falling onto the ground.
Her face was full of shock and disbelief. Tears slid down her face, finally vanishing.
Luke: !!!
She then left the village on a journey. She walked to all the ends of the world, as if in search of something.
She traversed deserts and snowy mountains, wearing out pairs and pairs of shoes, and her originally fair skin gradually became rough.
But on her face, all there was, was day after day of ever-increasing defeat and pain.
Luke: No… I’m here, I’m still alive! I’m right here!
Finally, she arrived at this castle.
Seeming like she’d lost all hope, she collapsed on the found. Tears and blood fell, droplet after droplet, on the ruby of the mirror’s upper part.
Then, a light suddenly flashed, and the girl in the mirror vanished.
The black mist filled the mirror, and a vicious dragon flew out of the castle.
Luke: !!!
The knight’s entire body trembled.
He dropped the mirror and sprinted out the door, as if he had gone mad.
Luke: No… not possible… no way… it can’t be…
Luke: How could you have been the dragon?! No way, I couldn’t have killed you…
At some point, the storm had started to rage again.
The figure of the dragon had already vanished. What replaced it was a figure that the knight was as familiar with as could be.
Luke: No way… why…
Luke: Why!!!
He held the girl’s corpse in his arms, then howled in despair like a wild animal.
The girl’s body was as covered in wounds as the knight’s was.
The rain struck their bodies, rushing frigidly over each of their wounds, as if mocking them.
Luke: No, no way…
Luke: This isn’t real… this isn’t real…
Luke: MC--!
The knight held the girl tightly. His throat was already raw, and all the light had left his eyes.
Luke: Is that why you stopped right then? Did you recognize me?
Luke: Why didn’t you escape? Why did you wait for me to kill you?
Luke: Please open your eyes, alright, answer me!!
Luke: Why?! Why?!
Luke: Ah--!!!
The rain descended in torrents, finally trickling down to the ruby, which had lost all its shine.
Part 6
The storm raged, and the knight’s heartrending cries never once stopped.
The air distorted for an instant. Right after, the fortune-teller stepped out from nothing, walking up to the sobbing Luke.
Fortune-Teller: Pitiful Sir Knight, you still ended up at this point.
Luke: !!!
Luke: It’s you… it’s you!
Fortune-Teller: It is indeed me, Sir Knight, the one who pointed you down this path.
Luke: Pointed me down this path… right, you know everything!
Luke: Let me ask you, did you already know that she was the dragon?!
Fortune-Teller: Yes, I know everything.
The fortune-teller looked at the young man, her voice gentle and tantalizing.
Luke: Then why did you have me find it - have me kill her?!
Fortune-Teller: I had you kill her? That’s quite an unfair accusation.
Fortune-Teller: I am a mere fortune-teller. All I can see is an established truth.
Fortune-Teller: This is her and your fate – you two are destined for an ending of death.
Luke: !!!
Luke: No way! What fate, what ending – I don’t believe any of it! There must be a way to save her!
Luke: I’ll keep looking. I’ll keep looking. I will definitely find it. I will definitely find it!
The young man clutched at the corpse in his arms and forced himself to stand.
The ground was slippery. He fell one time after another, yet he stood again, one time after another.
Fortune-Teller: …
The fortune-teller stroked the crystal ball, looking at the girl who was gradually getting colder in the rain.
Fortune-Teller: There is a way that might be able to save her, but…
Luke: What is it!
The young man shouted hysterically, but his voice was already so hoarse that he was nearly incoherent.
The fortune-teller paused, then looked at him again, her lips curving slightly.
Fortune-Teller: Simple. Make a deal with the devil, using your life.
Luke: …Deal?
Fortune-Teller: Indeed. As long as you offer your heart, she will be able to live again.
Fortune-Teller: But she will lose all memories of you…
Fortune-Teller: Perhaps she will love someone else and live a happy life, or perhaps…
Luke: What do I do?
The knight cut her words short.
Luke: Can you bear witness to the contract?
Fortune-Teller: … Of course.
Luke: Tell me what I need to do. We start immediately.
Fortune-Teller: … Alright.
The knight’s resoluteness far exceeded the fortune-teller’s expectations. After a simple explanation of the ritual, he finished his preparations.
Fortune-Teller: Will you not say any last words to her?
The fortune-teller placed the crystal ball in front of her, looking towards the silent knight.
Luke: …
The knight lowered his head, looking at the girl in his arms.
Luke: I never would have thought that our last meeting would be like this…
Luke: But at least you can continue to live…
The corners of the knight’s mouth lifted with difficulty. He reached out, pushing aside a lock of hair aside on the girl’s face.
Like a deep, yet wordless, farewell.
Luke: There are some things that I didn’t have the time to say before, but it shouldn’t be too late to say them now…
Luke: I…
The knight closed his eyes.
He slowly lowered his head, solemnly and gently kissing the hair of the girl in his arms.
Luke: Goodbye, MC. I pray that your life from today onwards will be happy and joyful.
He looked at her face, looking as if she were in a deep slumber, and said this to her for the very first and very last time—
Luke: I love you.
Right after he spoke, he stabbed his sword into his chest.
Bright red blood covered the marks that had dried on the sword. Thunder boomed as rain fell in torrents.
His heartbeat’s sound gradually stopped.
Fortune-Teller: …
Fortune-Teller: Hahahaha, hahahahaha—
The fortune-teller suddenly burst into laughter.
A black mist gradually wrapped around her. Her body and clothes changed form, finally turning into the form of a witch.
Witch: Hahahaha, what fate, what ending, what deal with the devil? Utterly foolish, truly, ridiculously foolish!
Witch: Although… thank you both. I found this drama quite the satisfying watch!
✼ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ✼
MC: …
My consciousness gradually awakened.
MC: Luke! Don’t do anything stupid!
MC: She’s obviously doing this deliberately! Don’t get tricked by her!
I tried my best to call out his name, yet I anxiously noticed that I could not even make the slightest of sounds.
MC: Luke!
✼ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ✼
Luke’s Home, Third Floor
*Tira’s note: The date itself said it was the second floor, but his living quarters (the background shown) are on the third floor, not the second.
MC: Luke!
I sprung awake from my dream.
And because of this tiny movement, Luke instinctively popped off the sofa, standing upright on the floor.
I lifted my head and looked hazily at Luke, and my consciousness gradually returned to reality.
MC: …
Luke: …
We looked wordlessly at each other for a few seconds, then couldn’t help laughing together.
Then, Luke gently sat back down beside me.
Luke: What happened? Did you have a nightmare?
MC: Mhmm…
As I gave an affirmative, I moved my body a little, realizing that my arms and legs had become a little numb. My chest also felt somewhat stuffy.
MC: (Huh, was I sleeping in a weird pose? I don’t think so…)
Just as I was thinking, Luke started to rotate his shoulders too.
Luke: Why are my arms this sore all of a sudden… I’m sure that I slept pretty well…
MC: …
Luke: Huh? What’s the matter?
MC: I figured it out…
Luke: What?
The only reason why our arms were so sore… probably was because Luke was holding me the whole time while we had an afternoon nap.
MC: (So that nightmare… probably also happened because of this…)
I felt both a little frustrated and amused, and seeing Luke’s dubious expression, I couldn’t help laughing aloud.
Luke: What’s the matter?
MC: Nothing, I just hadn’t woken up completely from my dream yet.
Luke: Alright, you’re fine now. I’m here with you.
Luke: If you’re still scared, then should I sing a song for our great lawyer?
MC: Sure!
I knew Luke was just teasing me, but I felt like either way, it would be pretty nice to listen to him sing for me again.
Luke: Then sit comfy first.
MC: Mhmm.
I shifted over a bit, and Luke sat down beside me, covering us up again with the blanket.
Then, he gently wrapped his arms around me.
Luke: Then, what does the great lawyer want to listen to? Twinkle Twinkle again?
MC: Yep!
I looked up at him, and then Luke started to tap my shoulder like a metronome as he began singing.
Luke: Twinkle, twinkle, little star.
Luke: How I wonder what you are…
MC: …
As Luke sang, my emotions gradually calmed down.
Amidst this relaxation, I couldn’t help thinking of the scene in that dream again.
MC: (A ten-day eclipse… man, the weird stuff I come up with.)
MC: (Did the earth stop spinning or did the sun just check out of work? So ridiculous…)
MC: (Plus, how could Luke be tricked by someone like that…)
MC: (Although…)
Though that was what I was thinking, I still knew…
Just like the knight in my dream, the love and protection Luke gave to me was always that silent, yet so etched into his very being.
But unlike the dream, we were now walking towards a happy future together.
I would hold his hand tightly, and I would never let go.
MC: …
The afternoon sunlight pervaded the room, and a slight breeze blew past. Everything was as great as always.
On the storage cabinet on the side, the mirror and sword model were stacked together. Under the sunlight, the rubies flashed faintly.
They looked somewhat familiar.
Phonecall
Hi! Good morning, are you up yet?
Ah… I bought a medieval-themed game that looks really interesting, so I wanted to ask if you wanted to play it together.
This game also has dual-player co-op mode. We can hit new game records together, just like in the past.
The game plot? Seems like a knight went on a quest to slay a dragon to find his missing lover.
I feel like this story’s pretty remarkable, and the animations done for the fights with the dragon in the middle were done really realistically…
Huh, what’s the matter? Why do you have such a pained expression on?
You don’t want to play this game… why? Does the plot make you feel uncomfortable?
Huh?! You had a nightmare with the same plot? And the main characters were you and me?! And we didn’t even get a good ending?!
Pfft… silly, it’s just a dream, don’t take it to be real.
Plus, doesn’t everyone always say that dreams and reality are the opposite?
You saw a bad ending, which means that we’ll have a good ending. So don’t be afraid, it’s all fine.
Hm… if you still don’t feel at ease, then how about we work together to beat this game?
I’ll prove to you that we’ll definitely reach the Happy Ending!
#Tears of Themis#tears of themis translations#xia yan#luke pearce#未定事件簿#tot spoilers#tot luke#suffering whiplash and sugar#the xia yan fan experience
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“Ok. So ive read fanfics and headcanons of yandere!Diavolo basically getting with MC to annoy or make Lucifer jealous. What if MC feels like Diavolo is doing this and try to say no whenever Dia tries to ask them out? Hes the the future king and rarely gets told no. I feel like he wouldnt accept MC's refusal.”
Yandere!Diavolo x MC. Thanks beautiful anon for requesting. And it ended up being gender neutral because it just did. Also ever so slight Barbatos x Reader too bc i errr simp-- Enjoy lovelies! <3
TW: Kidnapping, warnings of physical abuse, deceit, emotional manipulation, Diavolo being a bitch
“Are you afraid?”
You were seriously annoyed. Living in the Devildom, fun right?
Apparently not with the Prince around. Diavolo was nice, you supposed but very much arrogant.
So here you were, faced with yet another proposition.
“Look, Diavolo you’re nice but once again it’s got to be a no. Please understand that, I mean no disrespect.” You were a bit nervous, the way his eyes narrowed and his smug smile widened.
“Of course. But one day maybe you will give me a chance.” You forced a smile and turned to leave, wanting to return back to the house of lamentation.
-
“Oooh, MC you’re in a bad mood! What’s wrong?” As you walked into the kitchen to grab a drink, you heard Asmo quip at you.
“Nothing, nothing, I’m just tired...” You leant on the counter and sighed. “Come now, we both know it’s something more than that. You can tell me!”
“Fine, it’s Diavolo again.” “Eh? Again?” “Yep. He keeps asking me to be with him, and I’m almost certain it’s to make Lucifer jealous.”
Asmo tapped his chin in thought. “Hm, well that is a problem. I can’t help you, although you’re super lucky to have the future King after you. Maybe Lucifer can help?”
You blinked. “Hey that’s not a bad idea. Thanks Asmo!”
You hopped down from the counter and left, to hopefully find some help on the situation.
-
Knock knock!
“Enter.” You quietly stepped into Lucifer’s study, where he was doing goodness knows what.
“Ah, MC. Need something?” You sank into one of the chairs and sighed. “I need you to talk to Diavolo for me.”
The scratching of the pen stopped at once and Lucifer fixed you with a look. “Pardon?”
“I meant what I said. I have utmost respect for Diavolo, but at the moment he seems... He won’t take my ‘no’ for an answer in being his partner. And he won’t listen to me, so I was hoping you could talk to him?”
Lucifer paused for a moment, taking in the information.
“I see. So, you want me to discuss with Diavolo why you don’t wish to be his partner?” “Please.” “Very well. Next week’s student council meeting will--”
“I need you to do it as soon as you can.” Lucifer gave you a small smile. “MC, I appreciate the concern but I can assure you Diavolo means no harm. He is simply not used to being refused something.”
You stood up, and shook your head. “You don’t understand... Nevermind, it doesn’t matter.”
With that, you left.
After closing the door in annoyance, you groaned, heading back to your room. It was unfair! No one saw the urgency of the situation!
‘Who else can I talk to...? Lucifer will only talk to him next week, and I don’t think any of the brothers would want to talk to him...’
An idea popped into your head, and you grabbed your D.D.D.
Scrolling through your contacts you clicked on a fairly unused one.
Riiing...
Riiing....
Click!
“MC. What a pleasant call.”
“Hey, Barbatos. Listen, I need to talk to you about something, but I’d prefer to do it in person.” “That is completely fine. Would you like to come over tomorrow?”
You sighed in some relief. “Yeah, yeah that’s brilliant. Thanks.” “It’s no problem. I’ll escort you, if you’d like.” “Mm, thanks Barbatos. See you tomorrow.”
You hung up and grinned. Why hadn’t you thought of that before? Barbatos could help for sure... right?
-
In the morning, at breakfast you informed the brothers of where you’d be going.
“So what are you doing today, MC? You could come with me to Devil’s Kitchen-” “Or you could come buy a matching outfit with me for Devilgram!” “Yeah, or they could stay in and play the new game with me? Only if they wanted, of course-!”
You chuckled at the brothers bickering. “Actually I’m going out today, so I can’t join any of you.”
“Oh? And where are you going?” “To spend some time with Barbatos actually.” “Huh?! Why are you hanging out with that butler?” “Mammon, jealousy isn’t a good look for you.”
“I just thought I would, because I don’t spend much time with him. He’s picking me up soon.” “Oh! Is MC going on a date?” “I very much doubt that, Asmo.”
You gave Asmo a side glare and stood up from the table. “I just want to talk to him, that’s all. I’ve gotta get ready, catch you later.”
-
“Alright, see you guys later! If I’m not back by this evening assume I’m dead. See you!” You stepped out of the building with Barbatos and he gave you that oh-so-polite smile of his.
“MC, you look nice. So what is you wished to discuss?” With one graceful flick of his hand, Barbatos had both of you transported to the Demon Lord’s castle.
It wasn’t the first place you’d wanted to go to, but if the time was spent with Barbatos on his own then it would be fine.
“Well, actually it’s about Diavolo- No, before you say I don’t want to talk to him about this. Believe me, I’ve tried.” You leant back into
Barbatos pursed his lips and glanced to the side. “I believe I know what this is about. Excuse my manners, I haven’t offered you anything. Some tea?”
“Oh, thanks.” He nodded courteously and stood up, leaving for a moment.
You glanced around, taking in the grand carvings in the gold ceilings, and how everything from the paintings to the threads of the cushion you were leaning on had some air of royalty to them.
“Here you are MC. I hope it is to your liking?” “Mm.” “Wonderful. Now, about your concerns. This is about My Lord’s... advances, isn’t it?”
You nodded, and sipped your cup of hot tea.
“No need to say anything, I completely understand. My Lord is a wonderful demon, he’s just new to this kind of thing. But I understand why you are uncomfortable, and I will talk to him about it, if you’d like?”
“You will?” “Of course, I’d be more than happy to oblige. MC, are you feeling well? You look a little pale.” He suddenly commented, and you noticed a strange feeling in your temple.
“Ah- now that you mention it, I feel kind of... tired... Wait- Barbatos what’s in this tea...?” You trailed off, your delicate cup clattering to the ground.
“I’m so sorry, MC. Out of all the futures I’ve seen, yours was one of the brightest until you came here... I truly am sorry.” Remorse welled in his teal eyes and you slipped forwards, sleep overtaking you.
Gloved hands caught you swiftly, but you didn’t know what happened after that. You could only imagine Barbatos carrying you to the grand room, removing your D.D.D from your possession and glacing wistfully back at you as he locked the door.
-
“Ahh, you’re finally awake! It’s so lovely to see your bright eyes again.” ‘That voice, it can’t be...’
Your worst fears had come true. Here you were, just woken up in the lap of the demon Prince himself. ‘Angels save me...’
“What... Diavolo..?” “Yours truly. How do you feel, darling? Terribly sorry about getting you here, Barbatos was rather reluctant about the whole plan but seeing the future is such a nifty trick, eh?”
You scrambled out of his loose grip and hunched up to the head board, golden like everything else in this fucking castle.
“You- he- He tricked me! Let me go, you can’t keep me here!” “I think you’ll find I can, being the future King and all. Come now, what’s with that expression?”
You glared at him, eyes fixated on sending a look of pure hatred. “You’re a monster. I told you I didn’t want you. You can’t just kidnap someone if they don’t requite your feelings!”
“Can’t I? You don’t seem to be correct, this time.” “You bastard!” You cried, and jumped off the bed, sprinting towards the door.
Of course it was locked, but that wouldn’t stop you from banging on it and screaming. “Barbatos, Barbatos please help me!”
“I’m afraid that won’t help you, MC. Barbatos is my servant after all, and a servant cannot disobey his master. As for you...”
You heard him stride across the room, and you turned to face him- only to wish you hadn’t.
“Are you afraid, MC?”
Diavolo’s usually wide smile had been replaced by a sinister grin, and he had changed into his demon form- a truly terrifying sight to behold.
“Not going to answer me? That’s okay, I don’t need you to.” You pressed yourself against the door, ready for some kind of agony, but it never came.
Instead, he picked you up and sat back on the bed, nestling you on his lap once more.
“I must say, it’s better when you don’t fight back.” You couldn’t move. You were genuinely paralysed.
All you could do was whatever he wanted, evidently.
“What... did you do to me...?!” “What an accusation, MC. I simply made the situation more enjoyable, wouldn’t you say?”
“The brothers will find me... The angels will find me too... You won’t get away with this..!” You hissed as he pressed gentle kisses to your neck, content.
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that. After all, they’ll be too sad to find that you left them, without even saying goodbye.”
“W-what?! I would never.... You cruel bastard!” Your eyes welled with tears, and he carefully wiped them away with his thumb.
“It’s okay, it’s okay. You have me, right darling?” “I don’t want you!” “We’ll have to work on that, but that’s okay... but that’s okay, if it’s for you!”
“Don’t... don’t touch me.” He sighed, pulling you closer to his chest and ran his hand through your hair.
“I suppose if you keep denying me, there will be consequences, but I’m sure you’ll be a good little human and keep quiet, right?”
--
haha this was long. and i may or may not be working on yandere! simeon and solomon right now so uhhhh shhh. i’m not a huge fan of Diavolo but the dynamic is fun. see you soon lovelies <3
-Bepp
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Omg congrats on 600 followers! Honestly any fake dating with Jonah x Amy would be amazing, although I love number 44 and/or 48 on your Google Docs <333
This is my first Jonah x Amy fic and I offer two caveats: 1) I’m still not sure if there is a particular vibe people who read for this pairing preferring, so...here we are, and 2) I have only made it through 4x12 of Superstore but am pretty familiar w/ what happens the rest of the series.
Prompt: “You know we’re not actually dating, so why did you propose to me in front of my family?” / “I’m sorry, I panicked.”
---
Title: the scene of the complication
Fandom: Superstore
Pairing: Jonah/Amy
Other Characters: My crippling insecurity writing for a new fandom, sleep soft mornings, dumbs being dumb (but, like in a cute way)
Additional Tags: friends to lovers (or idiots to friends to lovers??), fake dating shenanigans, alternative universe where Amy’s HS pregnancy test was negative and she and Jonah met in college
Word Count: ~2,100
---
It started with a chance meeting ten years ago, and somehow it’s brought Amy Sosa here: awake in her childhood room with Jonah Simms beside her, sleeping off upwards of half a dozen tequila shots. Maybe she shouldn’t be surprised. She knew that day they met in the lecture hall that Jonah was a person who would make her life exceedingly more complicated.
And ten years later, here they are, practically leaving complicated behind in the rear view mirror.
(“What are two hopes and one fear you have for your first lecture on your first day of college?” the guy sitting to her right asks.
Amy doesn’t answer at first but this stranger just waits for her, all blinking, bright eyes and freshman eagerness. It’s barely morning. Is this her life now?
“Hope one,” she says, holding up a finger, “that I’d sit next to someone quiet. Hope two,” she holds up another, “that no one would talk to me before I managed to find coffee.” She holds up a third finger. “And this moment right here is what I feared.”
For some reason, her shortness delights him. His smile is open and affectionate, and he nods in appreciation.
“Noted.”
And Amy fully intends to never speak to this wide-eyed panda boy ever again, but then their General Psychology professor informs the class that the person they’re sitting next to will be their assignment partner for the semester.
The next lecture her partner – his name is Jonah, she learns – brings her a cup of coffee and doesn’t speak a word until she takes a long sip.
Complicated.)
Jonah snuffles in his sleep, his eyelids fluttering slightly. His hair is doing that thing it does when he’s hot or drunk or has run a hand through it too many times, where a single lock of hair hangs in the middle of his forehead. Amy resists the very real urge to brush it away. Because, yeah, she has those kinds of thoughts a lot and they also make things complicated. They’re friends. Maybe even best-friends, but definitely not ‘tenderly brush a lock of your hair away’ friends.
Do those kinds of friends even exist?
Jonah stirs again, and now that it’s clear he’s actually waking up, Amy reaches for her phone and opens Candy Crush. The last thing she needs is to get caught staring at him like some weird stalker.
“Oh, god,” he groans, his voice scratchy. He stretches out with another groan, his foot bumping against Amy’s as he does. Rather than move away, he kind of just rests it there on top of hers. And this is something she is all too familiar with. Drunk and/or hungover Jonah is yet another complication. More accurately, his propensity to cuddle indiscriminately is a very real complication.
“I need—” Amy reaches for the glass of water on her night stand and hands it to Jonah, stopping him mid-thought. “Do you have—?” She hands him two ibuprofen. “Thank you,” he says.
“You’re welcome.” She looks back at her phone.
Jonah swallows the two pills and drinks the entire glass of water, and then lays back down, curling slightly into Amy’s side.
“I made so many mistakes last night,” he says.
“I’m aware. As are your 80 Instagram followers.”
“I liveblogged it?”
“And tagged everything with the hashtag ��best noche ever.’” He groans again and turns his face into Amy’s side. She sets her phone back on the nightstand. “What got into you?”
“Your dad is intimidating.”
“My dad?”
“Yes. Your dad. And then he and your brother kept pouring me shots—”
“I knew this had Eric’s fingerprints all over it.”
“Well, it was kind of my fault, too.”
She frowns. “What do you mean?” Jonah doesn’t answer and Amy kicks him under the covers. He looks up at her. His eyes are red-rimmed but also so sleepy and soft. Complicated. “Jonah.”
“They kept asking me questions. About you and me. And I was so worried I’d say something wrong, I kept taking shots to avoid answering.”
“You could have found me.”
“I know, but—” he trails off.
“But what?”
“I want them to like me.”
“Oh, Jonah.” She gives in and brushes the lock of hair off his forehead, and he looks up at her. “They’ve known you for 10 years. They’re never going to like you.”
“Thanks, I feel so much better.”
“I do have one more question.”
“Okay.”
“You know we’re not actually dating. Right?”
He closes his eyes and nods. “No. Yeah. I know.”
“So why did you propose to me in front of my family?”
“I panicked.”
“Panicked?”
“Your dad asked what my intentions were, and there were just so many shots.
“And that’s why you shouted ‘I intend to marry her!’?”
Jonah flips the comforter over his head. “I just got wrapped up in it all.” His words are muffled from under the comforter.
She’s glad for the moment of respite, with Jonah unable to see her. If Amy didn’t want things to careen so off track, she probably shouldn’t have agreed to let him come to her dad’s retirement party as her fake boyfriend.
(“I don’t see what the problem is,” Jonah says, spooning more cashew chicken onto his plate. “You don’t still have feelings for Adam, do you?”
“No. No. God no,” she says. “Absolutely not.”
“Alright. I’m clear on the no.”
“It’s just the last time I saw him— Well, you know.”
“I recall, yes.”
And he does. Jonah knows all about Amy’s high school boyfriend. The one she liked but never quite loved. The one she broke up with when the pregnancy test came back negative. The one she slept with again the summer after their senior year of college.
(An event that occurred in no small part because Jonah was dating Mindy and the two of them were talking about moving in together. Maybe moving to the west coast together and Amy realized there was a very real possibility she was going to be left behind.
Jonah doesn’t know that part of the story.)
Adam is also the guy who thought having sex in her childhood bedroom meant Amy wanted to get back together. He’s the guy bringing his very beautiful fiancée to her dad’s retirement party. Because he’s also somehow the guy who still helps her dad with home improvement projects. And Amy is just Amy – the one who doesn’t visit St. Louis enough, and is using her very expensive liberal arts degree to work as a survey researcher for Cloud9, meaning she’s basically paid to manipulate shoppers.
And, not that it should matter, but she’s also very single. Has been for a while now.
She mostly blames the man stealing chow mein from her plate for that. She blocks Jonah’s chopsticks with hers, and a piece of cabbage goes flying.
“Stop that,” she says.
“You’re not eating it.”
“I’m too annoyed to eat.”
“If you only ate when you weren’t annoyed you’d starve.”
“I hate you.”
She pushes the chow mein around her plate. God, when she thinks about it, this really is Jonah’s fault. If she could just find a way to get over this stupid, dumb, little crush that has creeped up – without her permission, mind you! – then maybe she could actually—
“I could do it,” Jonah says, interrupting her thought spiral.
“Do what?”
“Go with you to your dad’s retirement party. Be your fake boyfriend.”
“You think that’s a good idea?”
“I think it’s a great idea. Besides, I am very close to getting your dad to like me.”
“He’ll never like you.”
“It’s not that I didn’t like the painting—”
“—How would this even work?” she asks, cutting him off.
“I don’t know,” he says. “I think we act like we normally do, but maybe you can hold my hand and be nice to me.”
“Eww.”
Jonah smiles around a large bite of cashew chicken. She really needs to stop hanging out with him so much – he’s become immune to her insults. It’s rude.
And him as her fake boyfriend is a terrible idea. Truly awful. If Amy is looking to get over her crush and make things between her and Jonah less complicated, there are better ways to do it.
Except.
Except she kind of wants to.
“Okay. Let’s do it,” she says.
“Yeah?”
“Yes,” she says decisively. “But if you try and kiss me, I’ll cut your lips off.”
“That seems like a proportionate response.”)
“So, to be clear, I told you kissing wasn’t allowed, and you thought that left proposals on the table?”
He groans again from under the comforter. It’s a little sad and a lot pathetic. Poor guy.
She pats the comforter in the area of what she hopes is his shoulder. As annoyed as she is at having to untangle these threads, it’s not his fault. Not really. She knows her family is relentless. Amy slides down and flips the comforter over her head as well.
Jonah rolls over onto his side to face her. Amy does the same.
“It was better than Adam’s proposal.”
“Adam proposed?”
Amy nods. “Ish. If I remember correctly he said, ‘I’ll marry you if I have to.’”
“Yikes.”
“Right?” It’s cozy under this blanket. Intimate even. “You did say some nice things. Even if they came out kind of slurred.”
“Amy—”
“Sexy, huh?”
“I really didn’t mean to shout that to all of your dad’s—”
“Because it’s not true?”
“No!” Jonah winces and Amy isn’t sure if it’s ‘I have a hangover’ induced or ‘I am revealing too much’ induced. “It’s true. Of course it’s true. You are very, you know.”
“Sexy on a completely objective level? Or, are you saying that you, yourself, Jonah Simms, think I’m sexy?” Jonah goes completely still. Amy isn’t even sure he’s breathing. It’s entirely uncharacteristic and a little unnerving. She pokes his cheek. “Are you blushing?”
“Big time, yeah.”
That does enough to break the tension under their blanket enclave, both of them laughing, at first awkwardly and then more genuine. Once they stop to catch their breath, Amy notices they’ve shifted closer together.
This would be the perfect moment to flee from the scene of the complication. But the complications don’t seem so terrible at this specific moment. She blames that lock of hair of his.
“How long have you held this opinion?” Jonah frowns at Amy’s question. “Regarding my sexiness?” she clarifies.
“Amy—”
“What?”
“What are you doing?”
“I just want to—”
“Really? You really want to have this conversation?”
Jonah stresses the ‘you’ and Amy knows why he does. There isn’t a topic or feeling that is off-limits to Jonah – he’d happily discuss every feeling he’s ever had. It’s her. It’s always her.
Their faces are so close they’re practically sharing the same pillow. It takes no effort at all for Amy to close the distance between them, lightly brushing her lips against his. As quick as it began it’s over, and even in the dim light under the comforter, Amy can see Jonah’s eyes blown wide. She’s sure she looks just as shocked and she’s the one who did it.
“You said if I kissed you you’d cut off my lips.”
“Which is why I kissed you.”
“Oh,” he nods. “Makes sense.” Jonah taps out a slow but erratic rhythm against the side of his leg. She just knows he’s trying to stop himself from verbalizing every single thought in his head. “To be clear, was that a friendship kiss, or—”
So Amy kisses him again. This time Jonah recovers quickly from his shock, winding a hand into her hair, his palm cupping the back of her head. It’s just unbelievably good.
“Okay,” Jonah says, his voice unsteady as he pulls away. “That answers that.” He traces her jaw with his thumb. “Any chance we could do it some more?”
Amy rolls onto her back, putting some distance between them. “I don’t think so.”
“Wait. What?”
“Your breath is awful.”
Jonah breathes into his hand and sniffs it to confirm. “What if I brush my teeth?”
Amy sighs, long and exasperated. “I suppose that would be—”
Jonah is out of the bed in seconds, scrambling for his overnight bag, and Amy presses her lips together to hide her smile. From the way Jonah smiles, soft and delighted as he backs out of the room, she isn’t fooling anyone.
So far past the point of complicated, she thinks, her heart still racing. But then again, maybe complications that make her feel like this are okay.
#simmosa fanfic#superstore fanfic#jonah x amy#jonah simms#amy sosa#amy dubanowski#I hope you like it anon!#first fic for a new fandom is always the most nerve wracking!#why is that?#p: jonah x amy#c: jonah simms#c: amy sosa#tv: superstore#otp: fresh start#Anonymous#never stories
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ANGELS & AIRWAVES (w. jjk)
He's never met you but you know how he sounds when he wakes up from a nap and his greatest fears. You know the way he sings after a shower and that he could be mistaken for a dying seal when he's laughing too hard. The best part? You don't judge him for any of it - including the fact he's a filthy Widow main. He might just love you.
alt summary. Jeon Jungkook has a big fat crush on a girl he's never met.
pairing. jeon jungkook
genre + rating. fluffy crack. general, for now.
warning / tags. long-distance relationship, crushes, canon compliant (ish), eventual happy ending, gaming, gamer!jungkook, strangers to lovers, friends to lovers, overwatch. tags are hard. :(
reading. n/a. a three part one-shot.
word count. ~2750
part ii.
JUNGKOOK’S ROOM
Sunday, 15 March, 2020. 2:01 AM.
He falls for you in between the tireless teasing, the laughter that sinks into his ears and replays like a highlight reel. It happens when he leasts expects it, when he's got his face pressed into the velvet of Yeontan's fur and you're cooing over voice chat, whispering sweet nothings to the manic panic pup. It comes in the moments he's not expecting it to, when he's frustrated and unbearable and you're as sunny as always, spilling yellow paint across the doors he tries to keep shut.
Bit by bit, day by day, he finds himself thinking of you more.
First, it's wondering what you're doing while he's half-asleep and on his way to the studio. Do you look as tired as you sound? What colour is your hair and how does it stick up when you've just rolled out of bed? When you yawn, do you stretch like a cat? He thinks you do, if the sounds you make are any indication.
Then it's asking himself whether you might like the same things he does, from horror movies to carnival rides. Would you hold his hand as you made the drop, stomachs leaping into your throats? Would you scream? Would it sound anything like that terrified pterodactyl noise you make when you're spawn camped by a Roadhog? He doesn't consider the fact that he doesn't even know if you're in the same city and you'll likely never meet - bound to the servers of Overwatch only.
He thinks about all the things he'd like to do with you. Video game nights filled with butter-tipped fingers and spilled popcorn. Walks with your family dog - Natto - you'd told him about, all fluffy white fur and dark teddy bear eyes. Sunrises on the rooftop of his building, because you had the worst insomnia he'd ever seen and what better way to spend your endless waking hours than with him.
Jeon Jungkook knows he'll probably never get any of these things, but he lets himself daydream anyway.
Like now, for instance, as the two of you sit in another queue at 2 AM. You just woke up and you've got that tell-tale rattle in your lungs, words sluggish and lacking any real intent. He imagines you look the way you sound - tired and a little out of it, with barely opened eyes and sleep-loosened limbs.
"How'd you sleep?" He asks softly, crossing his legs beneath him and raising his arms high above his head in the same instance. The bones of his body realign, ridges of his spine clicking into place when he knots his fingers together and pulls taut.
"You know - the usual," you muse, apathetic. It's always the same.
He doesn't question it any further. He had once or twice, when you'd first started talking and he'd noticed the way you were always up at inhuman times. One grumbling response had told him enough - your schedule was what it was and no amount of remedying could fix it.
There's a beat of silence before he hears rustling and then the loud, inescapable sound of an electric toothbrush. You don't bother to mute your microphone, not that he minds. He simply sits quietly, scrolling through his phone as you go about your "morning" routine.
"How was your day?" You're settled back at your computer, he thinks. The acoustics sound far less like that of a bathroom.
"I had the day off, actually." He'd used it to edit some footage and record a cover. He hasn't posted it to Twitter yet - there were certain times he was supposed to, to maximize visibility - but he's excited for when he does. It's a song that's been stuck in his head for weeks, all thanks to you.
"Woah - you didn't work today?" There's genuine surprise in your question, rounded syllables that pop off your tongue in an explosion of shock.
“Right?” He laughs a little, short and sweet.
Despite his carefully crafted facade, there were certain plot points that just stuck, intrinsically weaved into his day-to-day whether he liked it or not.
His jam packed schedule, for instance.
To you, it’s the result of stretching himself too thin between teaching at his friend’s dance studio (where he also apparently moonlights as a personal trainer) and working as a videographer for his media-involved friends. Not that you know any of them. No, no. All the work he does is for the little guys - none of those big companies like BigHit or JYP. Jungkook’s just your average Joe behind the camera.
“What did you do all day then?” You’re still in awe, little flecks of wonder threaded throughout like glittering gold yarn.
“Hung out. Did some editing. I’m kind of behind.” That was an understatement. He’s working on footage from six months ago, trying to get it out before they head on tour and he won’t have the kind of time he has now.
“Probably spending too much time gaming.”
“Yeah, probably.” Not that he minds, or that he’d change it. He savours the time you spend together, even if it has kind of messed up his sleep schedule.
“Sorry not sorry,” you quip, seemingly reading his mind.
“You should be,” he retorts with laughter that builds in his stomach and echoes out of his chest. “I don’t think I’ve had a good night's sleep in weeks.”
If you hadn’t had this conversation a handful of times before, he thinks you might be offended. Instead, he can practically hear you roll your eyes - imagines your optic nerve nearly severs with the intensity of it - and grins.
“Don’t kid yourself - you know I’m the best thing about your nights!”
You’re not wrong. “You’ve been lied to.”
“I’m suing!”
“I’ll have my lawyer contact your lawyer.”
“Wait, what?”
The two of you have done what you always do - talked yourself into a tizzy that has you both laughing, sound crackling across the airwaves. It’s nonsensical and silly but it feels good. Your bond shines with it, glitters prettily between you.
Thank god for Overwatch.
You return the conversation to a semblance of normalcy first. “Did you listen to that song I sent?”
“Yeah.” The briefest pause. “It was terrible. Hated it.”
“Oh, shut up!”
“I’m kidding. It was really good.” Jungkook doesn’t tell you that he’s had it on repeat for the past few days, saved to the private playlist that’s filled with the rest of your song recommendations.
“I know!” You’re preening as if he’d just complimented you, clearly pleased by the praise. He supposes it’s a pretty good endorsement regardless.
“Got any more for me?”
“I should just make you a playlist.”
He ignores the way his heart skips a very real beat, mimics the erratic rhythm of his fingers on his keyboard. Because he’d absolutely love that.
“You should.”
“Really?” You sound uncertain but maybe - just maybe - a little hopeful. He might also just be imagining things, as he so often does with you.
“Yeah. Why not?” It comes nonchalantly despite the rushing in his ears, the wave that threatens to drown him. He can feel emotion in his chest - winged and distracting. A kaleidoscope of butterflies fluttering away.
You’re quiet for another second. It feels like an eon. “Okay, yeah. I’ll start one and we can just add to it together.”
BIG HIT ENTERTAINMENT’S GYM
Thursday, 26 March, 2020. 6:30 PM.
“You sound like a meathead,” you say, off-hand and disinterested.
He loathes the grunt that squeaks past his teeth as he gently returns the dumbbells to the floor. Cue a generous chug of water and a near death experience when the liquid goes down the wrong pipe.
Loud coughing crackles through his airpods before he’s addressing you. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You’re grunting like a caveman.”
If your first comment hadn’t offended him, this one does. Jungkook scoffs, tonguing the interior of his cheek as his brow furrows. Weights are returned to his hands, rotated above each shoulder as he resumes another set of presses.
“Do you even workout anything other than your fingers?” He’s making a conscious effort not to make a sound, breath exhaled sharply through his nose. It’s harder than he cares to admit but he’s also not about to give you an excuse to tease him further. You already had way too much material.
“Don’t shame me!” You really don’t sound that indignant.
“So, I’m right? You’re a big couch potato who’s just jealous of my hot body?”
Now you’re incredulous. It’s one of his favourite sounds because it comes draped in laughter, dancing around his head in the form of cartoon hearts.
“Did you just say ‘hot body’, Jay?”
“Maybe I did. What of it?” He sniffs - he’s picked it up from you over the months - and your amusement doubles, giggles crashing into each other in their haste.
“You are so, so weird.” There’s a tenderness in your voice that he’d like to live in. It wraps him up like a hug, tugging at his feeble little heartstrings.
“Weird and hot.”
“You can’t just say that!”
“Why not?” If anything, you’re the one person he can say it to. With you, it’s the funniest joke he’s ever made. It’s playful and silly, with no rhyme or reason. He doesn’t have to worry about it being misconstrued or held against him.
“You just can’t! Only other people can say it.” You sigh dramatically, from your chest. “Do I have to teach you everything?”
“Everything but being healthy, probably.”
“Har har har.”
He can tell by how the words roll off your tongue, muffled and lacking clarity, that you’re eating. He wonders if you’ve made pancakes - you’d been complaining about craving them just two days ago. There are no tell-tale crunching or slurping, so he knows it isn’t your usual double whammy combo of ramyeon and Choco Boys.
“I’ll have you know I used to run.” Something about the way you say it makes him believe you, even though he wants to mock you a little more.
“In gym class doesn’t count.”
“I used to run with Natto, you ass!” Okay - so that actually sounded legitimate.
“Why don’t you still then?”
“There was an incident once.” You’re sipping on something - likely coffee with oat milk and two pumps of hazelnut syrup. It doesn’t matter that it’s dinner time and most people would be winding down for the evening. “Because of my insomnia, I’d run at odd hours. One day, some weirdo stopped me while I was running along the river. He didn’t hurt me or anything—” A part of him thinks you’re downplaying it but he says nothing, only waiting for you to continue. “—but he followed me home. I made the mistake of telling my parents and they freaked out so…”
“So no more running by yourself.”
“Yeah, exactly.”
“I’d run with you.” It doesn’t mean much, but it’s the thought that counts.
“Thanks, Jay.”
Not for the first time, he wishes he could hear his name - his real name. Just once.
“JUNGKOOOOOOOOOOK.” It eats up every ounce of space of the gym, filling the room with the resounding boom of it. How it manages to be so loud, he’s not sure. He wishes it weren’t. There’s no way you haven’t heard it.
Especially not when it comes again, deafening even to his occupied ears.
“JUNGKOOOOK-AH!” Namjoon now, right as the double doors fly open.
Jimin’s barreling toward the alarmed maknae as he shouts. “WE’RE DOING A VLIVE!”
Jungkook feels like his insides are melting - his internal temperature spiking with embarrassment and worry and something that chants oh no! over and over in his head. The tops of his ears are burning, as is the column of his throat. A quick glance in the mirror confirms his suspicion that he is, indeed, bright tomato red.
“Jay?” You repeat once, twice, when he doesn’t immediately answer. “Everything okay?”
He moves with a speed he doesn’t expect, weights unceremoniously dropped on either side of him before he’s tearing his AirPods out. “I’ve got to go. Sorry!”
He doesn’t end the Discord call a moment too soon, Jimin upon him in the next instant. The smaller dancer is draping himself across Jungkook’s shoulders, the widest shit-eating grin on his pretty face.
“Want to join us for a VLive?”
“No. I’m busy.”
“Busy with your girlfriend?” Jimin’s wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. He only stops when Jungkook shifts aggressively, tearing himself out from underneath the other.
“Not my girlfriend!”
“But you wish she was!”
He can’t deny that, so he doesn’t bother, instead seizing his discarded weights with an embarrassed scowl permanently etched into the planes of his face. He’s reracking them - because god, he’s not an animal - when he notices Jimin making his departure, that teasing smile replaced with something soft and edging on concern.
“What’re you going to do when we’re on tour?”
Jungkook blanches then. You’d become such an undeniable part of his everyday life that he hadn’t even considered what it’d mean when he was busier than now, unable to spend late nights gaming with you.
But Jimn’s already gone, leaving him and his thoughts alone.
JUNGKOOK’S ROOM
Friday, 27 March, 2020. 12:05 AM.
It’s close to midnight by the team he logs on. Realistically, he should go to sleep. He’s clean and worn out and his bed is calling to him like a siren at sea. But you’re sitting alone in the channel, streaming Overwatch for no one to see, and he can’t just leave it at that.
He needs to say goodnight, like he always does.
“Coming for my title as Headshot God?” The quip’s off his tongue before you have a chance to acknowledge him, your laughter the first thing he hears once he’s connected.
“I’ve been waiting in this queue for seven minutes. Seven!”
It’s really not that bad. The rare times you’d both queue for DPS were nearly double that.
“Patience is key,” he teases, slumping into his chair as he watches you click through your Hero Gallery. You’re cruising seemingly aimlessly, roving through the different skins for your mains (Mercy, Ana, Genji, Ashe). The silence between you is comfortable, interspersed only by the occasional munching he can only assume comes from the carrots you seem to inhale.
For all the junk you ate, you were somehow also weirdly into vegetables.
“Patience sucks,” you retort, matter-of-fact.
“You know what else sucks?”
It’s a rhetorical question and he knows you know, but because you’re you, you start listing things off just to get under his skin. “Spiders? Undercooked samgyupsal? Not having coffee? Your jokes?”
If he weren’t laughing so hard, he might’ve given you shit for making fun of his comedic genius. He really doesn’t understand how you think he’s the unfunny one when all you do is crack puns.
“I was actually going to say me,” he finally manages in between those high pitched cackles of his.
“Wait, why?” You’re used to him having witty comebacks.
Edge of enamel worries his bottom lip and Jungkook can taste cherry Chapstick and what would be bashfulness, if it had a flavour. “For earlier.”
You scoff, your own tinkling laughter tearing him out from inside his own head.
“It’s okay, goofball.”
He appreciates how laidback you are, never holding anything against him. Not even when he hangs up on you or accidentally spams you with memes when you’re trying (and failing) to sleep. “No. I’m sorry.” He says it earnestly, with all the meaning he can muster.
MATCH FOUND flickers across his and your screen and you’re loading into hero selection. He knows you’ll be too distracted once the game starts, so he’s grateful when you laugh again, sweet as summer.
“Nothing to be sorry about. Just tell me everything’s okay and we’re even.”
Inhale, exhale. Try not to tell her you have the biggest, stupidest crush on her, he tells himself.
“Everything’s okay.” And he means it when he says it, though they aren’t the words he wishes he could say.
“Good.”
You’ve chosen Genji, He smiles to himself when you join voice chat and the rest follow, greetings filtering in from your team members.
“Good luck.” You don’t need it. He still likes to say it.
“You have an early day tomorrow, right?” Leave it to you to remember his schedule even when he doesn’t.
“Yeah, pretty early.”
“Then go to bed! I’ll still be awake when you’re up.”
He lingers on that fact - holds it tightly in his hands so it can’t slip away. You’d be there in the morning, just like you always were. Knowing that stirs those same butterflies in his chest, words stolen by the overzealous beating of their wings.
You read his silence like they’re your own thoughts, “I’m always here for you, Jay.”
“Goodnight.”
"Sleep sweet."
notes. this chapter is set four-ish months following the first, in case that’s not clear. :)
tag list. @teawithbucky
#heartsforbts#ficswithluv#goldenclosetnet#magicshopnet#bts#bts au#bts scenarios#bts imagine#bts imagines#bts fanfic#bts smut#bts fic#bts fluff#jungkook smut#jeon jungkook#jungkook#jungkook fanfic#jungkook fic#jungkook fluff#jungkook imagine#jungkook imagines#jungkook au#jungkook x reader#jungkook x you#jungkook x oc#jeon jeongguk#jeon jungkook smut#work.zip#angels.doc#jungkook.doc
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8. 13, 14, 23, 24 and 30 for the writing habits thingy ;W; ❤️
@theimpalpable | roleplay / writing habits
---
8. Do you reply to threads you have the most inspiration for first or do you work on them in the order in which you received them?
IT’S! Oh, I am terribly messy when it comes to this. Recently, when I really wanted to sit down and tackle drafts that were older, I put my all into working in a oldest to newest fashion, but, as expected, I managed to only get as far with this method before I started skipping around again. Chronological order doesn’t really do it for me, because tackling drafts just because they’re the next in line and not because I do actually have the muse for it doesn’t really do it for me? But if I were to only ever reply to things I had excessive amount of muse for, I might end up neglecting other threads just because a given muse is occupying all my thinking ability, which is absolutely something that can happen.
So, recently, I’ve found that I sort of try to reply by some weird system my brain has set out for me, where I kind of shoot for things that create diversity in terms of genre in the posting order? Jumping from a Yoshino reply to a Patrick one, for example, something about colour that only my brain knows about. And then I try to vary who I’m replying to, instead of tackling all replies of a single mutual, it feels fairer to spread my attention out to as many as possible and that as equally as possible. I have no idea if any of this makes sense :3
13. Are you more comfortable writing in private or public spaces? Why or why not?
Absolutely private spaces. I’ve never actually truly tried writing in public spaces, for a wide variety of reasons that mostly revolve around going to public places only for specific purposes and never to just spend the time there, and when I’m out for something specific, I wouldn’t take my laptop along. Now, I could take a notebook with me, but truth is, other than the fact that I don’t like carrying things around with me (I’m THE WORST-), I don’t think I could get into the right headspace if I was in public? I try to be as invisible as possible when I’m outside, that’s one reason, scribbling away at something would look odd in the town I live in lmao Plus, I’ve recently found out that apparently I need very specific set ups (such as font size) to get my brain to actually function in a writing sense, which a pencil can’t give me :’3 Long story short, I am a gremlin with bad posture typing away in Quasimodo form in my lil corner of the table.
14. Do you have a routine that helps you prepare to work on your writing?
I wish I could answer this positively, Alex please take my blogs away from me, put me in writer jail—I’m JUST! So messy. There are a few things, though! First and foremost, I need music. Doesn’t have to be specific music, I’ll just put what I have on shuffle and skip what truly doesn’t work for my current mood more than anything else, although I have found that I will simply skip song if I lose concentration halfway through a sentence, even though the song had nothing to do with it, I think it’s just a tick of some kind ==. PLAYLISTS HELP TOO! I love playlists so much~ (I LOVE YOURS EVEN MORE)
THEN, I need visuals, and by visuals, I mean colours. Sometimes, in particular if I’m moving from writing for one muse to another that is drastically different in voice than the previous one, or if I’m writing for a character I’m not too familiar with, to get into the headspace of the muse I look at visuals, and in particular anything of a specific colour palette I associate with them, to kind of get myself into the right headspace? If that makes any sense? Sometimes I will use resources for this, a handful of gifs from the faceclaim I use, especially if it’s for a canon character, I look at gifs to sort of refamiliarise myself with their typical facial expressions which will then somehow lead to me getting closer to their voice again (sit next to me and you’ll find me making the weirdest faces to achieve this without opening a gif page KLDDFGFKJLH).
Then I need to make sure I don’t have too many tabs open because that is mighty distracting. Then I just… Try. Something that I will thank my brain for is that I usually know after the first line whether or not this reply will be any good, or if I’ll end up scrapping it, if the vibes are off, or if I was too consciously aware of what I was writing as I wrote it, most likely going to get scrapped.
21. If a reply isn’t coming easily do you draft it for later, delete and start over, chat with your writing partner for help, or something else?
Because I replied to 23 :33333 I’m jumping BACKWARDS!! And choosing this one also because I like to bully myself and expose the ones amongst my habits I want to beat with a stick: if a reply isn’t coming easily, it goes straight into the bin, and I am so ashamed. Because even if I do draft it for later, the likelihood of me attempting the same reply again right away after one failed attempt is… hehe… something to be embarrassed about. If the tab reloads and deletes my stuff, if I struggle through the first paragraph, if I just notice that the voice is completely off and my metaphors are more filler than anything else, then it’s getting deleted. And left to rest. I’ve always had issues with repetitions, I don’t like it when people repeat things over and over in quick succession, when my teacher asked me to repeat things back to her I couldn’t physically get it past my lips, when I have to re-try on the same reply right away and repeat the process I can’t, I need to arrest my brain. So I delete the disgusting blob of writing, close the draft, and move onto another. And if that one doesn’t work either, I shut my brain down for the day and go mope at Pinterest FDKLHJJLHG
24. When working on items in your inbox, do you spread out the answers, queue them up, or work on them all at once?
THE QUEUE IS MY BEST FRIEND, OH MY DEARLY BELOVED QUEUE, THANK YOU FOR EXISTING! It makes me so happy, getting to be active while also simultaneously working on other things behind the scenes, I feel like I’m actually offering something to you folks who bother writing with me, rather than just vaguely existing on the other end of the screen. So nowadays I use the queue feature for truly anything, asks included! I used to have a sort of system where I’d go for a draft, an ask, a gallery post, just to switch things up, but when it comes to asks I’ve realised that I can’t post one of a meme without posting the others, too. I don’t know why, but once I start on asks sent in from one particular meme/prompt post, I will post them until I don’t have any in my inbox of that post left. This doesn’t apply to asks that are sent after I’ve completed this, even if it’s the same meme, since it didn’t come in with the first round, I go about it chiller in replying to it and will introduce it between a draft and something else (I don’t know if this makes any sense, my brain and I aren’t very close, we don’t talk often, I won’t ask it--). But yesh :33 I queue them up to only post asks from that meme until there are none left.
But! I don’t work on them all at once. I’m replying to this one while I have a few left of the 400 dialogue prompts one, because since I’m currently not doing splendidly connection-wise (I’m writing this out on Word to just copy paste it into Tumblr later, rather than use up data by writing in on Tumblr directly), I can’t access muse info as easily so I took a break from those until I can read up on mutual’s characters, BUT I DIGRESS, the point is that I don’t work on them all at once, but they’re still getting posted together, which is why the 400 dialogue ones will have been posted before this will be :3
ALSO, I do treat my inbox and my drafts differently (well, they are different things), also in the sense that, where I skip about like a maniacally cackling gremlin in my drafts page, I will reply to asks of a single meme post in the order I received them in. I’ll be honest, I didn’t use to be this organised, I have old asks from older memes that I haven’t gotten to yet, that do not absolutely match up with this system, BUT I AM TRYING!! I SHALL BE ORGANISED BEAN >:3
30. When working on replies or drabbles, do you prefer a desktop keyboard, a laptop, typing on mobile, or other accessibility methods?
MY TRUSTY LAPTOP!! I will cry when I’ll inevitably have to allow it to retire, it’s not the oldest bean out there, but it’s the oldest laptop in our household, my boy has survived folks younger than him, he’s lasted THIS LONG and I am SO PROUD IF IT, like, I am taking the utmost care of him, I want this bad boy to last me until they don’t make chunky bois like these anymore >:333 I wouldn’t mind using a desktop keyboard either, but I’ll be honest, I’m so used to the size of my laptop keyboard that I’d probably make a lot more mistakes on desktop keyboards (or any other keyboards tbh). In regards to typing on mobile, allow me to offer a tiny fun fact about yours truly, the gremliest pupper: when it comes to technology, there is nothing I fail quite as hard at as typing on mobile. Today I tried typing CRM into a searchbar and all I managed to type was a lowercase V, how the FRICK—I don’t know how to get my fingers to agree with mobile keyboards, it’s not the touch screen, because I can use that, I know how to use a smartphone with the regular, normal amount of ease, but typing, oh GOD—Maybe I try to go to fast or I slip I DON’T KNOW, I’M SO BAD AT IT, on one hand it’s really funny, on the other it’s the answer to the question ‘why is Lena clenching her fist really tightly and groaning in pain while staring at that phone’.
#theimpalpable#;ooc#;the mun#ALEX MOST ADORED THANK YOU FOR BEING CURIOUS AND SORRY FOR THE MESS THAT THIS IS I FIND THAT#I LACK THE BRAIN COMPETENCES TO DESCRIBE ANYTHING RELATED TO MYSELF IT SEEMS GDFKLHJFKLJHFG IDK I JUST#HOPE ANY OF THIS MAKES SENSE AND THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR SENDING ANY IN I LOVE YOU ♥♥♥#;queue
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A[h]arrowing evening - chapter 2
I kind of promised another chapter if I reached 100 hits on AO3. I am a little behind schedule, but a promise is a promise.
So, here is the chapter 2.
Fandom : Dracula TV 2020
Relationship : Agatha x Dracula
Rating : this one tends to M but not quite
I still have not counted the words.
@hopipollahorror @lady-of-the-wolves @thebeautyofdisorder @festering-queen @feralstare
[let me know if you don’t want to be tagged]
@vampyrsbride @khyruma no idea if you even read fanfiction
Anyone else who didn’t ask to be tagged but still read my shit,
everyone, I hope you’ll enjoy!
As Dracula was settling comfortably for the night, a knock resounded on his door. Curious, he went to open and was startled to find a swaying Agatha in front of him.
- Agatha! To what do I owe the pleasure? Or is it displeasure tonight?
The young vampire waved her hand and slurred :
- I came to aplo... to aloo... ap.., to say I'm sorry.
The older vampire frowned :
- Are you all right?!
- Nether bedder!" She was leaning dangerously sideways until she was supported by the doorframe.
- Did you take something?" Dracula asked, incredulous.
- Noooo!... " But after a short pause, she admitted : "I just drank a drunk!" And she sniggered. Agatha never sniggered.
- Oh my! Are you drunk?!
- Mabee a little bit. But he tasted sooo good!" Agatha mumbled, ecstatic.
- What did I tell you about drinking drunk people?!
- Pff!" The younger vampire scoffed. "I drrink whoeve' I want, Mr 'now-it-all.
Now she was listing dangerously towards Dracula who held her upright by the shoulders.
- Do you understand how much alcohol is needed to affect us?! How much blood did he have left in his alcohol stream?!" He asked drily.
The former nun, leaning on his chest now, snorted.
- Did you just make a joke?
- Perhaps.
- You shooould not do that.
- Why not?
- Because... it makesss you likeable. And I am not sh-supposed to like you. I am sh-supposed to.. to kill you! See? I still have my little arrow with me, just in case.
Agatha brandished in all directions the wooden weapon she got used to carry since Dracula turned her. Weary, the older vampire got hold of it before his younger kin could do some damage to either of them.
- Yes, I can see that. I'll keep it for now, if you don't mind.
Agatha made a gesture, that could either mean she didn't mind or its exact opposite. When she didn't try to take back her weapon, the Count concluded it was the former and returned to their previous conversation :
- Did you just said you liked me?
- Ov course not! Why would I do that?! You mush... must get deaf in your old age.
- I assure you my hearing is quite good. You just said you liked me." He persisted.
- Nooooooooo. No, no, nononono. No..." Another short silence, before :" Maybe. A little. But I am rrrreally d-drunk at the moment, so you'll have to ashk... aks... hashk me again tomorrow. When I sh-slept it off.
- When you slept it off, you are going to wish me to the devil. So...
- Zat's not... jat's... that... Yeah!... Maybe we should sleep it ohf togejer, zen.
- I beg your pardon?!
- Zat way, no dish... no dims... no w... no sc-scoffing at.
- I won't sleep with you when you are drunk, Agatha.
- Why not?! I am vewy ri... very vi... willing at the moment. When will you 'ave anozer chance, do you think?
- God, give me strength!
- Did you..." Agatha sniggered for the second time in the evening. " Did you just take God's name in vain?!" before she dissolved in laughter, at the utter dismay of her older kin, while actually slouching against him.
- That's exactly why." The only thing keeping her up was his arm around her waist. When she finally calmed down, he tried to lead her towards the bedchamber :
- Come now. I am putting you to bed.
But Agatha resisted his pull. Even drunk, she was still a vampire.
- Only if you're coming with me into it.
Dracula towered above her.
- Agatha, don't push me. You know I want you. But not like that.
Far from being cowed, the younger vampire slid along his chest until she was an air breath from his mouth before flashing him a brilliant smile :
- Draaackeyyyy... me loveyyyy. Don't be so meaneyyyyy.
The older vampire snapped :
- That's it. That's enough! I am putting you to bed now.
Lifting her like she was a bag of feather, he threw her on his shoulder. Sober Agatha would have been scandalised. Drunk Agatha, however, sniggered for the third time and purred :
- Ooooh! Me very own cave man!... Cave vampire!" Then, even upside down, she set about removing his shirt from his trousers. Dracula couldn't believe what was happening : a few weeks ago, she almost killed him and now, it appeared that she was intent on undressing him.
- Agatha, stop that!" He admonished her, to no avail.
The younger vampire, apparently, was determined to see him naked before they could reach the bedroom. She was really trying his self-control.
- Agatha, if you don't stop, I am going to do something I have wanted to for a long time and you will be left with only regret and self-loathing in the morning. Is it really what you want?
At last, this made her stop. Dracula couldn't help but release a relieved sigh.
Once they reached the bedroom, Dracula slid her down to the bed. He put a knee on the floor to remove her shoes. Agatha, surprisingly silent, was watching him. When he straightened up to help her lie down, she unexpectedly put her hand under his shirt flat against his abdomen. Dracula fought to keep what was left of his restraint.
-Show me your scar.
- It's gone. You know we don't scar." The older vampire answered while removing gently her hand from his skin. She was warm from the blood, which wasn't helping with his growing lust. Luckily, she didn't resist. But she looked disappointed :
- I wanted to kiss it better, as you asked me. As an apology.
- You did, don't you remember?
- Hum! Yes. But I wanted to do it more... Can I kiss you better somewhere else, then?
- Agatha..." But before truly realising it, he was leaning forward. His restraint was flying through the window.
The kiss started sweetly, a mere brush of the lips, but drunk Agatha was demanding and Dracula, unable to resist, gave her what she asked. Soon they were tangled with each other, the older vampire not sure anymore how many limbs his younger kin had, as she seemed to touch him everywhere at the same time. He finally stopped her hands from their roaming and threaded their fingers, while exploring her mouth with avidity. In all their 123 years of fighting, she had never let down her guard and never allowed him this close. Until tonight. She was exquisite, as always. Warm and soft and... softer?
Dracula raised his head to note, with a mix of dismay and amusement, that his nemesis had fallen asleep in his bed. Well, at least, she finally was where he wanted her. The vampire shook his head and laughed softly at the irony. As it was, she wouldn't be able to stake him come morning. Small mercies.
*************
A few hours later, Agatha emerged slowly from her slumber. For a few instants, she couldn't remember but when memories flooded back, she put a pillow on her face and groaned. How could she do that?
- Oh! I see you are awake. Hum! And not suffering ill effects from your over-indulgence.
- Sweet Jesus! It really did happen, then?! I still hoped it was a nightmare.
- I am afraid not, Angel.
- I can't believe I did that. This is so embarrassing!
- Well, it could have been worse. I could have given in.
At those words, Agatha removed the pillow from her face - She couldn't smother herself anyway - and looked at her supposedly oldest enemy. He was watching her with a mix of fondness, resignation and longing. Or so it seemed to her guilty mind.
- I am so sorry, Vlad. I... Well, thank you for resisting. At least one of us didn't embarrass themselves last night.
- My pleasure, Angel. And don't thank me, I wasn't able to totally resist, if you remember well. If you hadn't fallen asleep, honestly..." He trailed before falling silent.
Agatha dropped her gaze on the sheets, a new wave of mortification washing over her.
- Yes, well, I provoked you. So, for once, I don't blame you. You actually showed remarkable restraint.
- Did I hear you well? Did you just pay me a compliment?! You may suffer ill effects after all." Dracula teased her.
- Nevermind." Agatha mumbled, going out of bed. Dracula presented a helping hand, which, after only a slight hesitation, she took. Once upright, though, she had to grip it more tightly as she swayed on her feet.
- Hum. Not totally unscathed, then." The older vampire remarked, without mirth.
- I'm fine." She defended herself."I just feel a little numb.
- Yes, of course. My mistake." He answered, with a knowing smile this time.
- Oh do shut up, Dracula!" The younger vampire growled, as she tried to remove her hand from his. But Dracula didn't let her.
- Maybe you should stay the day. Sleep it off.
- Dracula...
- I promise you : no mischief, no ulterior motive. If I may say so, you don't look so good. You could rest here, I won't bother you.
- I don't think..." She hesitated.
- I can bring you some clean blood to clear your head and you can lie here as long as you want." Dracula added when he sensed her wavering.
Agatha was thinking about accepting his offer as she felt exhausted, but still she pondered.
- Where will you rest? It's daytime.
- Don't worry about me. My sofa is quite comfortable.
The former nun snorted :
- Your sofa is as comfortable as a marble coffin and at least a foot shorter than you!
Dracula shrugged.
- Well, I still have to put a bed in the guest bedroom, so it will have to make do.
Agatha looked at her nemesis' bed : it had been made for him, so it was probably a foot longer than her and at least, large enough to house a small village. She gulped then took a deep breath :
- Your bed is big enough for the both of us. And since, you were the gentleman and offered me its exclusive use, I would be a very sore guest if I'd let you sleep on this terrible furniture you dare call a sofa.
Despite his surprise at her unexpected proposition, Dracula chuckled :
- Well, if you get into the habit of coming to see me while drunk, I may need to invest into a second bed. Or...
Agatha raised a warning finger :
- Don't even think about finishing this sentence, Count.
The older vampire grinned but stopped talking. After an awkward silence, Agatha added :
- You should think about replacing that sofa, too.
- I will." At his tone, she looked at him. He was watching her back with that same expression again.
- Are you sure you don't mind?" Dracula broke the spell. "I must admit I got quite fond of my bed, since I don't need my coffin to sleep in.
- No. I mean : I don't mind." But she insisted, to be sure : "You promise me no mischief.
- You offered me to sleep with you." He countered, teasing her.
Agatha didn't catch the joke, if her scandalised look was any indication :
- I was drunk!
Dracula laughed at her outraged tone.
- I'm joking, Agatha. Relax.
he sat on one side of the bed and patted the place next to him.
- Come on. You look dead on you feet. I promised you no mischief. I'll keep my word.
Agatha sat carefully on the bed then lay down next to her old enemy. They didn't say anything for some time. Dracula rearranged his limbs then put his hands behind his head, settling in.
Agatha was lying next to him rigidly, debating with herself, until finally she sighed :
- Oh Hell!" And throwing caution to the wind, she rolled on her side to nestle against him. It was quite nice, actually.
The older vampire stayed still for a moment, unsure what to do. Then, slowly, he put down one arm to place it around her shoulders and bring her a little closer to him.
- No mischief." She mumbled into his shirt.
- No mischief." He confirmed with a smile in his voice. "Even if you make it hard for me to keep my promise."
- Not without a partner." His younger kin replied softly, already on the verge of sleep.
Dracula resisted laughing at her tart answer, so as not to disturb her. She was relaxing against him and very soon, he could sense she was fast asleep. No partner indeed.
He couldn't hold it any longer and laughed, barely disturbing his exhausted partner. She muttered in her sleep, then settled against him once more after throwing an arm across his chest.
Perhaps, she would heed his advice next time. But Dracula hoped she wouldn't. Drunk Agatha was almost as fun as angry Agatha and far more agreeable.
The older vampire looked down at the woman in his arms. Maybe he was the one high, in this instance : he still couldn't believe his nemesis was actually sleeping, sober and peaceful, in his embrace. If God had decided to be done with him and Agatha was His sword arm, Dracula decided then and there that it was a small price to pay for a few hours with her in his arms. And with that satisfying thought, he slipped in a comfortable slumber.
#dracula 2020#dracula bbc#dragatha#a [h]arrowing evening#chapter 2#stand alone#agatha got drunk#drunk agatha is fun#poor dracula has to resist#she's driving him ragged#fanfiction#my fanfiction
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Kitsune Haunting
A Mitsuhide Akechi fanfic, approx 2500 words, silliness and sort of scares?
First: Mitsuhide and the Maiden
Previous: A Fun Lesson
This fic is a little longer than most of my posts. This one was inspired by one little line in the game . . .When Mitsuhide and MC reach the Chugoku province, the chatelaine reflects on their trip (which we didn’t get to see!) - she mentions that one night, Mitsuhide ‘haunted’ her. If you like it, I might post a part 2 with additional shenanigans.
Mitsuhide listened to the whispers of the bamboo forest. He found it soothing. The music of wind and branch was so different from the hum of Azuchi. There were no human voices to interrupt his thoughts. No politics here, or plots. Only the endless sea of green, and the long shadows cast by the setting sun.
His little mouse did not look to be enjoying the ride as much as he. She kept turning her head at each clack and clatter. Her shoulders were tense too. Perhaps she feared bandits, he thought. Or something worse? His lips curled into a small, wicked smile.
“We’ll camp here,” he called to her when they reached a small clearing. The bamboo grew far enough apart to place their bedrolls, and to dig a small fire pit for cooking. But the leaves covered the red and gold of the sunset with their greenery, sliding slowly to black as the light left.
“Can’t we keep going? I thought we would be out of the forest before dark.” She hunched her shoulders and squinted at the dim-lit path ahead. “It’s probably not much further, right?”
Mitsuhide kept a straight face. “Perhaps, but I do not want to risk the horses. They could trip on a dark path, and we would be delayed.”
She sighed and nodded. “I didn’t think about that.” Then she dismounted stiffly. The chatelaine was unused to long rides, or riding in general. Though she didn’t complain, her discomfort showed in every stilted movement as she unbuckled her pack and began to unload the horse.
“I can do that,” Mitsuhide told her after a moment of watching this awkward dance. “You go stretch, try to get comfortable.”
His little one gave a grateful smile. “If you insist.” She stepped away from her horse and stretched her arms over her head. “I feel like my spine is half fire. If fire was steel. Bending it hurts.”
“Riding all day is hard at first,” he agreed as he removed the packs and saddles, and began to rub down the mounts. “You do get used to it eventually.”
“You must do this a lot.” She sounded a little jealous. “How long does it take to - to not feel like you were beaten with hammers at the end of the day?”
Mitsuhide shrugged. “I don’t remember when I stopped being bothered.” He glanced at her over his shoulder and grinned. “Maybe you can tell me the exact moment riding becomes comfortable?”
She frowned at him.
After the gear was unpacked and the horses cared for and fed, Mitsuhide dug a small fire pit and got out their rations. Onigiri tightly wrapped in a bamboo sheath. The rice was flecked with black sesame and filled with pickled plum. He handed her the travel food, knowing she would eat it even if she wished for something sweet.
“Thanks,” she said, resting back on the bedroll Mitsuhide laid out for her. “These aren’t bad. Did Masamune make them?”
“Yes.” He did not tell her Masamune tried to send them off with all sorts of experimental recipes for traveling. He’d turned them all down, opting for something quick and easy to eat, simple to pack. Besides, more elaborate food might break their cover if they were searched.
“His food is always so good,” she sighed. Her eyes were focused up, on the little glimpses of starry night sky.
Mitsuhide felt a stab of jealousy. He did his best to ignore it. His little mouse could taste things, so of course she preferred Masamune’s cooking. It meant nothing.
A loud crack interrupted the quiet. It sounded close. The chatelaine squeaked and reached for her pack, where she kept a small knife.
“Frightened?” It was normal to hear snapping branches at night, as animals prowled the forest. Sometimes it was just a stalk too old to stand against the wind. Whatever the cause, it wasn’t a human sound and so he was not worried.
His little mouse shook her head, chin jutting out defiantly. “No. But it could be a monkey or - or a bandit.”
He laughed softly, which did nothing to calm her down. “What if I told you I was sure it is neither of those things?”
“Why should I believe you?” Her temper was still hot.
“Mmm, because I have traveled this forest several times. And I can tell you for certain that no bandit would prowl here at night. Even the monkeys are wise enough to stay away.” An idea took form right then, a little piece of fun.
The red in her cheeks drained away as he spoke, leaving her pale. “W-what do you mean?”
Mitsuhide gave his crescent moon grin, all wickedness and sharp edges. “Because, little one, this place is haunted.”
“Heh, y-yeah. Now you’re trying to scare me on purpose! Stop teasing.”
“Oh? Then I won’t tell you why travelers avoid this place.” He finished his meal and stood.
The chatelaine watched him, her whole body tense despite her defiant attitude. “Where are you going?”
“I will check around the camp, and the path ahead. I want to keep you safe, even if you don’t believe there is danger.” He stepped silently outside the small circle of firelight. She watched him go without saying anything else. But she did pull the knife from her pack, setting it, still sheathed, beside her.
Her determination to be brave was adorable, but it made him want to tease her more. As he walked the perimeter of their tiny camp, he picked up bits of dead, dry bamboo stalks. He put a few holes in them, and with a bit of thread, hung them high in the branches. They began to catch the breeze almost immediately, adding a soft, low warble to the rustling leaves.
Then he went a bit further afield to a nearby pond - it was easy to find by the night sounds of the forest toads. He scooped up a large male and laughed softly as it wriggled in his hand. “Don’t worry. I am not going to eat you, gama. We are going to help each other tonight. I just need you to sing.”
The toad let out a long, rasping cry in response. Perfect. He loosed it a few feet from the chatelaine’s bedroll, where she sat staring at the fire, oblivious to his presence.
When he came back to camp, announcing his arrival with a purposefully loud step, she stood to greet him. “Oh! You- you were gone awhile. Everything ok?”
“I found nothing . . . unexpected.” He looked at her solemnly. “But I think we should both stay here, near the fire, until dawn.”
“You - you’re just taunting me. Is there anything out there or not?”
Mitsuhide sat down on his bedroll and stretched out his legs. From the darkness on her side of the camp, came a harsh croaking. It was loud and held for several heartbeats.
“Ah! What is that?” She spun to stare at the bamboo thicket.
“I was going to tell you but . . . you said to stop.” Mitsuhide shrugged. “Do you want to know or not?”
“I - yes. Please tell me.”
He regarded her with narrowed eyes. He could tell her heartbeat was fast, her eyes were wide. She pulled her mat closer to the fire pit.
“You must promise not to interrupt.”
His little mouse nodded.
“Good. Then I will tell you why wise travelers avoid this forest, especially at night. It was before I was born, when my parents were young. There was a Chugoku princess known through the nearby provinces for her extraordinary beauty and her cunning. Her father refused to marry her off to the many suitors that came to their castle, because he cherished her. His youngest child and only daughter. And he relied on her wise advice.”
The chatelaine opened her mouth to ask a question, but caught herself. He could tell she was trying very hard to abide by his request. She was so cute, holding her curiosity in, that he almost gave her a chance to speak.
“Eventually, of course, a young warrior came to court her. He was very handsome, and wealthy. The princess was quite taken with him, as were most of the women in the castle. From the princess’ maid, to her elder mother.”
“This sounds like a fairy tale,” his little mouse said.
Mitsuhide raised an eyebrow in disapproval.
She clamped a hand over her mouth.
“I will pretend you said nothing. As to the truth of this story, you may ask some of the older servants at the castle - they will tell you the truth of it. Some still live that knew the princess, her maid, and the young warrior.”
The chatelaine’s eyes grew wider, and as if planned, a gust of wind made the improvised bamboo pipes give a fluting wail.
“Now, as I said. All the women in the castle were taken with the young warrior, but none so much as the princess and her maid.” Mitsuhide looked out into the dark forest and gave a heavy sigh.
“The maid was as ugly as the princess was beautiful. A girl disfigured by a terrible burn. Her face was twisted into a grimace that marked her out from even the plain women of Chugoku. The princess was the only one to look past her scarring and see the intelligent, kind woman behind it. The two were inseparable, until that charming warrior came.”
His little mouse nodded, her hand still covering her mouth as if she was afraid she would speak again.
“Though no one knew it then, it was the maid that gave the wise advice everyone sought from the princess. She spent her time reading and watching, listening to people. She knew the town’s most closely held secrets. The princess relied on her knowledge and her spying. And so, when the maid fell in love with the warrior, she begged the princess to let her try and win his affection. She thought she was owed at least the chance to find love. The princess only laughed.”
Mitsuhide did his best to imitate a woman’s voice. “No one would love a girl as ugly as you. Now get to your room and stop asking me for the impossible! I will marry that warrior, and you will always be just an ugly, unwanted maid.”
His little mouse looked appropriately horrified by that cruelty.
“The maid told her, ‘If you don’t at least let me try to win his heart, I will tell everyone the true source of your wisdom. They will know you are nothing but an empty-headed doll. Pretty but stupid.’ Enraged, the princess beat her, and drove the maid from the castle.”
“And she came to this forest to live?” The chatelaine asked, unable to help herself.
Mitsuhide shook his head. “If only she had. No. After the maid left, the princess began to worry that the maid would tell everyone the truth. She devised a plan to stop her. The princess called the warrior to her room and began to weep. She claimed that the maid threatened to curse her. She said the burned girl was a witch, and that she was afraid for her life. The warrior was uncertain, but he wanted to win the heart of the beautiful princess. After drying her tears, he agreed to find the maid and take her to the forest, where he would slay her and bury her bones far from the castle. Then the princess could be safe. And in return, she would marry him.”
The forest toad rasped another desperate cry. His little mouse jumped at the sound, her head whipping around to look back at the bamboo grove. “C-can I come sit with you? While you finish the story?”
Mitsuhide nodded. He made a space for her beside him where she sat, her leg brushing against his.
“Now, the maid was no fool. She feared the princess would lie about her, but she could not believe the warrior would harm her. Especially when he came to her hovel and asked if she would walk with him, and talk. He seemed so sincere. She wanted to believe he came because he worried for her. The maid told him that it was her wisdom on the princess’ lips that made the beautiful girl famous.”
He slipped an arm around his little mouse, and remarkably, she only settled against him without a single word of protest.
“The warrior believed her. After all, witches have great wisdom. Knowing this did not change his plan. He brought the maid here, to this forest. The whole way, he listened to her talk about her life. Her dreams. She opened up her heart to him, believing he cared. It was only when the warrior told her to kneel before him that the maid realized what he intended to do. She begged for her life. She promised him anything he wanted, if only he would let her live. The maid told him that she loved him. Her words fell on deaf ears. The warrior saw only the princess’ beauty and wanted nothing to do with the wise but ugly maid.”
“Men are so stupid,” the chatelaine murmured.
“Sometimes,” Mitsuhide agreed, thinking of how he had been so easily ensnared by a pretty girl. “Stupid or not, the warrior cut off her head. Then he carried her body away from the well traveled path, and buried her in an unmarked grave. The princess waited for him, but when she felt it was taking too long, she slipped away from the castle and walked the forest path, looking for her love.”
“Oh no.” His little mouse breathed the words into his chest, her eyes half-closed.
The warlord smiled down at her. “You are right to worry. The princess met her warrior on his way back from burying the poor maid. He swept her into his arms, smearing her with blood and grave dirt. He told her it was done, and she was so excited that he had done her bidding, that she kissed him. And then the warrior laid her on the forest floor and made love to her.”
Mitsuhide shifted, definitely not thinking about taking his little one here, in this clearing. Not thinking about that at all.
“The maid’s spirit could not rest, not with such a violent death at the hands of the man she loved. And not after witnessing this final betrayal. She appeared before them, holding her head in her hands. She threw it at the princess, gnashing her teeth and wailing. The princess caught it, and died right there from fright. The warrior should have died then too, but the maid could not kill him. She still loved him. Instead, she cursed the warrior to a life of loneliness.”
“That is . . . so sad,” the chatelaine murmured. Her eyes were closed now, almost asleep.
“It is. The warrior returned to the castle, and found that all had turned against him. They say he died some years later, a lonely and bitter man whose heart was stone. The princess’ body was retrieved from the forest, but the servants that brought it back swore they heard weeping and gnashing teeth. And after that, many beautiful maidens disappeared in this place. The men that travel these roads say they hear the maid, still crying. Her teeth clacking together.”
Another gust of wind rattled the branches and sent low tones skirling into the night air.
His little mouse shivered. “N-none of that is true. It’s just a - a story.” Her sleepy voice sent a happy chill through Mitsuhide. He imagined she would sound like that early in the morning, waking before dawn to make love and then fall asleep again.
“Ah, it was told to me as a true story. But I have never feared these woods. Even if they are haunted by a maid that curses men to loneliness. I am already cursed.”
“Mmm, yeah,” the chatelaine agreed, “but I’m not. Can I . . . sleep next to you?” Her eyes opened a fraction.
“Of course. I would not want to lose you to a vengeful spirit.” Or anything else. He laid her down on his mat, and watched as she drifted off to sleep. Such folktales had their uses, he thought. Like frightening silly, sweet girls.
Next: Kitsune Dawn
#ikemen sengoku#ikesen mitsuhide#mitsuhide akechi#otome#otome guys#fanfic#fanfiction#ghost story#haunting
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My favorite pages of a Transformers Prime Halloween fanfiction I wrote in 5th grade. In this story, the Autobots and Decepticons call a truce. Well, the kids call up Megatron and organize this and then Optimus catches them but then also agrees jdsjdjsdjdshsdh I know this makes Zero Sense but yknow what that’s,,,,how my brain worked back then. Made no sense. Still doesnt make sense actually--
ahhhh so.........enjoy ^^’’
Um and sorry for mistakes and potentially immature perceptions of the characters...remember I wrote this literally almost 5-6 years ago,,,, O//O’’
OH AND. LONG THREAD. (Mostly because of the photos. But forwarning I guess ^^’’)
(I’ll just do some explaining since I only picked parts of this story. Also sorry for the terrible picture quality :’D)
Edit: The grammatical errors. I’m in Pain.
In no particular order:
1.) This. Because?? Mood.
2.) Ratchet’s change of heart (sort of) aND THE FACT THAT I MADE HIS COSTUME AN ANGEL AJSJSJSDJ
(he made them some tasty energon goodies <33)
3.) fjdfjdfj idk why but I really like this part of the chapter in general,,,maybe it’s just me lmfao but uh....well.....good job, younger me lolol you’ve made older me genuinely laugh 😹😹😹😅😳
I do have one question for myself: wHY did I choose a MONKEY COSTUME?? FOR STARSCREAM???! *cries laughing* that is so random I can’t even rn--
4.) This one single part. It comes earlier in the story ofc, and again idk why but I just,,,this part is decent. And I kinda like it lmfao
After this, I remember reading something about Megatron visiting “blogs” and reading about Halloween and costumes and all that. Which I’m 99.9% certain was some sort of reference to Tumblr. So. Make of this what you will, I suppose owo
5.) The description of Op’s costume! He went as a cat and I distinctly remember making him dress up as a cat because cats have always been my favorite animal so my logic was: favorite character + favorite animal = pERFECT!! <D Anyway, uhhh.....sometime I wanna draw this :3 it’s a cute costume idea actually....so congrats again to younger me for doing something right...sorta..^^’’
(if you wanna know the end of that sentance, it just says smth like how neither of them had made a costume like this so even if it wasn’t all that perfect, it was a really good effort for a first try <3)
6.) Very much like the way I opened this chapter too,,,,lol why am I even trying to explain my thoughts my brain just,,,I Like This Bit Too,,,,I hope y’all like it as well,,,,idk--
7.) wHAT was this ending asdfjkldjsdkjsdj
all I can say is that the Starscream adding that he will crush them later is the Best Thing and I’m still laughing about it,,,kudos to younger me yet again ^^’’
8.) SAVED THE BEST FOR LAST! I really liked this part??? For many reasons. I remember it was my favorite part to write :3 Of course, my stupid immature humor had to ruin it with the “thug life” joke because that was another thing I found extrememly hilarious back then sooo.....oh and I apologize for the way Megatron abruptly destroys the mood....I was tryna be deep I think?? BUt...idk...that moment just throws the vibe off too abruptly....idk....y’all lmk what you think I guess...? But anyway, my favorite part of the whole thing >:33
LIKE I WANT OPTIMUS TO DO THIS SOMEDAY. IT’S CUTE. LIKE,,,,SUE ME BUT IT’S FUNNY,, 😹😹😹😹
(also what I meant by “a shade of crimson darker than Jack” is: a few pages back, a fake spider scared the living daylights out of jack and he landed flat on his back after screaming so loudly that literally everyone burst into laughter for a good few mintues. And Jack had blushed like super hard. That’s. Idk why I didn’t specify that in the writing sdsjsdj anwyay--)
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And bonus: the cover page that um. Is atrocious. Please forgive me O//w//O’’
tHAT IS nOT what his costume was supposed to look like in my mind’s eye but I suppose on that day I gave up and did....that....so..............
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Well! Ok! You made it to the end of this thread!!! <3 THank you so much for reading through it all!! You’re the best!! Like,,,seriously thank you so so much Q//w//Q And I’m so sorry for wasting your time
Please have a lovely day/evening!! Maybe sometime I’ll post pics from that Christmas fic ;3
See y’all around then! ^^’’
#transformers prime#tfp#fanfiction#transformers prime fanfiction#tfp fanfiction#tfp fanfic#halloween#transformers#halloween fanfiction#tfp halloween#transformers prime halloween#old fanfiction#old stuff#writing#story#kuniwrites#things#optimus#optimus prime#megatron#starscream#ratchet#bulkhead#arcee#bumblebee#knockout#raf#rafael#miko#jack
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Christmas Kiss | Shawn Mendes
Summary: You and Shawn have been friends since you were kids. You never meant to fall in love with him, his life and job now make a relationship hard. This Christmas you decide to tell him how you feel, there is only one problem, you’re sick with a cold and you don’t think you’ll get to see him. [fluff] [Christmas themed] [sick/cold] [non au] [friends to lovers]
Word Count: 2.6k
|Masterlist In Bio|
Being sick when Shawn comes home from tour for Christmas is not ideal. You felt the cold coming on two days before he was scheduled to land in Toronto. You had plans, big plans with Shawn. It's been ages since he's been able to hang out in person, and you finally have the courage to admit to him that you want to be more than friends. This week was supposed to be a huge life changing event, a Christmas to remember. You did everything you could to stop the onslaught of runny nose and puffy watery eyes; medicine, orange juice, supplements, but to no avail. You are undoubtedly, irrevocably, sick.
Monday morning you wake up to the doorbell for your apartment buzzing non stop. The world feels heavy. You sit up in slow motion it seems and there is nothing you can do but focus on breathing for a moment while you gain your bearings and listen to that awful tinny buzzing from someone wanting into your building. You crawl out of bed and drag yourself to the door, dragging your feet like they're in sticky mud.
"Hello?" You ask, finger on the call button for the front door. Your voice is completely wrecked, absolutely destroyed from coughing. "Hello? Anybody there?"
"It's Shawn."
"Shawn?" You glance at the clock over your couch a few feet away. It's just after nine. "What're you doing here?"
"I got you some stuff. Let me in, it's cold out here." He laughs and you press the door button to let him in.
Moments later he is pushing open the door to your apartment and carrying in bags of stuff. You wrap a blanket off the couch around your shoulders and watch as he unloads bag after bag onto your kitchen island.
"What's this?"
"Medicine, food, gifts." Shawn starts unpacking and setting aside Oreos and some ramen cups. "I stopped by the store for you on my way over with your Christmas gifts."
You shuffle forward and look at the bags. They're full of more groceries than you would usually buy in two weeks. How much does the guy think you eat? And what is with all the junk food? You tug the corner of a bag down and see a bottle of whiskey. "What's this?" You pull out a fifth of Canadian whiskey and give Shawn a look.
"That's for us." He puts away the Oreos and some mac and cheese into a cupboard. "Hot toddies are good for making you sweat out a cold."
"Uh huh. You said “us”? You're not staying."
"The hell I’m not."
"Shawn, you can't get sick. You're a rockstar, you have to sing. You...you have responsibilities."
"Yeah and right now," he pauses and hands you a box of tissues. "My responsibility is my best friend."
Best friend. That packs a punch you didn't expect. A haunting reminder of how he thinks of you, at least, how he presents that he thinks of you. It's hard and it's getting harder, that courage you built up the last few months is withering now like ice in the hot sun. It's just turning to steam before your very eyes. Shit.
"What if you get sick?"
"So what? I've been sick before and I'll be sick again." Shawn wads up the last of the grocery bags and sets aside a bunch of wrapped boxes on the counter. "I've waited four months to be here and to see you. I'm not letting some stupid runny nose stop me."
"I'm not going to be any fun." You sniff, eyes watering heavily. "I'm just going to sleep and be miserable."
Shawn rolls his eyes. "I know you. You'll want to watch Lion King and drink peppermint tea until you're so tired you pass out. I'm prepared for that."
"Wow. Just read me like a book why don't you?"
He grins. "Go sit down. I'll make some tea and we'll talk and catch up."
"We talk everyday."
"But it's different when we're together."
"Yeah but..." You chew on your lip and he lays his hand on your shoulder. "Never mind. Thank you for coming over."
"You'd do the same for me." He cups your cheek and you turn your eyes up at him, sure that you must look terrible. "You're welcome."
His soft gaze breaks you. You step forward and wrap your arms around him, pressing your face to his chest. Your fingers curl tight into his shirt and he holds your head with both hands.
"I missed you," he says, fingers working into your hair and scratching at your scalp with his blunt fingertips. "Things aren't the same without you."
"I missed you too." You murmur, eyes closed and you can almost, just barely, smell his cologne. Maybe your one nostril is unblocked. Maybe...just maybe you just want to be immersed in that familiar scent so bad it's appearing in your mind.
_____________________
Shawn spends the rest of the day with you. He makes you tea and warm whiskey spiked drinks. You watch the Lion King, Mulan and Moana. Just after six the sun starts to slip behind the horizon, your living room becoming dark. Shawn's arm finds its way around your shoulders and he leans his head on your head. You want to tell him. You need to tell him how you feel.
"Tomorrow is Christmas."
You nod slightly. "Sure is."
"My parents are in Barbados." Shawn chuckles. "It was a gift for their anniversary, but the cruise got rescheduled. I was surprised when they said they'd be gone for Christmas. It's not like mom to miss it."
"Maybe they just really needed a vacation."
Shawn sits up and runs a hand over his unruly long hair. "Probably. I know mom's been having a hell of a time finding clients for work. And dad...dad is always working hard, a hundred and fifty percent everyday." He sighs. "I'm glad they taught me a good work ethic y'know, but I wish they'd take it easy. It's not like it was when Aaliyah and I were kids. They don't have to try so hard."
You lay your hand on Shawn's and he turns it over, threading his fingers between yours and rubbing absentmindedly with his thumb. "I suppose parents always want to provide for their kids, even if they are rockstars." You giggle and he gives you a look.
He hates when you call him rockstar. He says it feels like it cheapens things, makes you less than him. He doesn't want you to think of him as a rockstar but as your best friend.
"Are you parents flying in for the holiday?"
You shake your head. "No, they couldn't afford it this year."
"Why'd they move to Florida again?"
"Mom wanted to live on the beach." You roll your eyes and he squeezes your hand. "Dad also got a job down there with the construction company he works for."
"Ah. So, do you want to spend Christmas together?"
"I figured that was the plan." You look to the window where it's snowing heavily outside. "I didn't think you'd want to drive home across Toronto in this weather."
"I don't." Shawn pulls his hand away to brush his hair back with it while he reaches for his drink. "I don't mind taking the couch."
"You know what you need?" You say, getting up and going over to the kitchen. You grab a few hair ties out of the bowl that holds your keys. "These."
"Ponytails?"
"Yeah. Your hair is ridiculous and you keep pushing it out of your face every two minutes." You stand in front of him and he leans forward for you. Skillfully you gather up the top of his hair into two little pig tails on the top of his head. He looks outrageous and you can't help the ugly laugh that burbles out.
"I look stupid don't I?" Shawn asks, half laughing at your reaction. He stands and looks in the decorative mirror beside the TV. "Ohmygod. This is my new look." He turns to look at you where you've collapsed on the couch laughing and struggling to breath through your clogged nose. "Goodbye headbands, hello pigtails."
"Stop! Shawn I'm gonna die!"
"Nope. You did this." He poses, peace sign over his face while making duck lips. "High fashion baby."
You start coughing, laughter quickly succumbing to a wheezing fit and hacking. You down the rest of your tea, just warm from sitting on the table too long, and take a few deep breaths.
Shawn drops to his knees beside you, hand on your chest. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I made you laugh too hard, I'm so sorry. What can I do? How do I help?"
"I'm fine, I'm fine." You cough a few more times and grab Shawn's mug, downing his drink. "I just laughed too hard. It's alright. I'm okay, just a little tired now."
"Come on, let's settle back down on the couch." Shawn grabs your arms and sits you up right on the sofa. "I'll grab some extra blankets and we'll sleep out here."
"But-"
"No buts. I'll be right back."
You close your eyes and lean your head back on the cushions. You're dying. Sickness is wreaking havoc on your body. Shawn's wreaking havoc on your heart, and you're absolutely destroying your mental capacity with liquor and cough medicine. You can't wait. You have to tell Shawn. It's now or never. Balls to the wall. You just have to-
"Are you okay?" Shawn's voice breaks through your thoughts and you open your eyes. "You look a little out of it."
"I love you."
"I love you too?" He says sinking down on the couch and flopping the blankets he was carrying over your lap. "What's with the sudden affection?"
"No, I mean-" You hold your head as it throbs. Maybe whiskey and NyQuil don't mix. In fact, you know they don't. "I am in love with you."
"I know."
"W-what?"
Shawn brushes your hair back off your clammy face and looks at you with those soft hazel brown eyes you adore. "I've known for a long time.”
“I-I Wha-”
“It's okay, don’t panic. I'm in love with you too. I know I always said that when the time comes I'll know, and I can't pinpoint the moment it happened but one day I woke up and I realized my whole world is waiting for me in a tiny apartment in Toronto." He chuckles. "I've been working on a way to tell you, a way to make it work with my job. I haven't found that way yet, and I hoped you would wait for me, though I didn't expect that. So I never told you. I couldn't- I won't hurt someone like that, especially not you."
"I-I don't know what to say." You stare at him, unsure of your reality as your head swims. Is this real? Did you fall asleep? Are you in some kind of cold medicine induced mini coma? "I'm asleep aren’t I?"
"You're not." Shawn presses his hand to your forehead. "You've got a fever though."
"This isn't real. You're not even here. I'm going crazy." You slump over and Shawn covers you with blankets. "I'm just coping aren't I? Stressed myself out so far that I'm dreaming of telling you the truth."
"You're awfully self aware for a dream."
"That's just what dream Shawn would say."
He chuckles. "I'm getting you some Advil. Relax and I'll be right back with a very real glass of water and two very real pain relievers."
You close your eyes once more and quickly you begin to drift off to sleep. You vaguely remember Shawn sitting your head up to take the Advil and water. But after that everything is a blur of sleep and muddled nonsense dreams.
_____________________
Christmas morning you wake up on the couch. Your body is stiff, achy from sickness and the unsupportive couch cushions. Beside you is a glass of water and some cold medicine on the coffee table. There is a lump of blankets by the other end of the couch and you can see a mop of hair sticking out, two pigtails very visible.
Then reality hits you. If you're waking up now with Shawn asleep in your living room that means last night was very real. It means...you confessed your feelings and Shawn, well, he confessed them back. Excitement, hope and terror are quite a cocktail of emotions. They make your stomach lurch, your heart flutter and your hands shake. What happens now? Where do things go from here?
"Hey," Shawn's groans, peeking over his blankets at you. "How's the fever?"
"Good? I think? I just woke up."
"Mmm." He sits up and stretches. "It's Christmas."
"Yeah." You look over to the tree in the corner where there are boxes from your parents, your sister and Shawn all waiting to be unwrapped. "I can wait though."
"Why?"
"Because I don't want to be the only one to unwrap gifts."
Shawn laughs and grabs a few of the boxes from under the tree. "I brought my gifts too, the ones my parents and Aaliyah left for me at my apartment."
"Oh. I thought you brought all of those for me, I thought it was a lot but I didn't want to say anything."
"No." Shawn passes you a box with your name on it. "You definitely deserve this many, but I didn't go crazy."
"You've been crazy." You smile and he gives you a look that turns into a smirk. "Did...did you mean what you said last night?"
"Every word of it." Shawn sits across from you on the couch with his box in his lap. He picks at the paper a bit. "It's okay, like if you don't want to do anything right now. I know my life is insane and yours isn't anywhere near as hectic." He chews his lower lip. "I couldn't ever ask you to commit to my life and the distance and-"
"Shawn."
"Yes?"
"We'll figure it out."
His eyes light up and he stares at you, seemingly bewildered. "You want to try? You want to be in a relationship? With me? I-I'm- you're sure?"
"Shawn I haven't wanted anything more in the last year. We already make the distance work as friends. What's the difference in doing it as a couple?" You sniff and wipe your eyes that are watering from your clogged sinuses. "I think the distance has only made us stronger friends and-"
Shawn leans in to kiss you, hands on your legs and you stop him at the last second with your fingers against his lips. "Please?" he murmurs.
"You're so dumb."
"Because I'm going to kissing you and you're sick?"
"Yes."
He grins and grabs your face, pressing his forehead against yours. "I guess we'll just have to be the couple that shares everything."
"This is not what that means."
"I don't care." He tries to kiss you again and you groan, stopping him. "Shawn, you're gonna get sick."
"I don't care." Another attempted kiss. "I've waited a long time for this."
You cup his face and push him back a bit so he will stop trying to infect himself. “I have too but I'm not going to kiss you and get you sick. And when you've got this cold I will not kiss you then either."
"Yeah you will. Don't lie."
"I won't." You giggle and he pushes forward, leaning you back until you're laying against the arm of the couch with his body covering yours. "Is this for real?"
"Very real." He kisses your nose. "I don't want to wait." He kisses your head. "I've been alone for a long while this feels...it feels so right. Please let me kiss you."
"Alright." You close your eyes and he presses his lips to yours. It's soft, sweet and everything you ever imagined. "Happy?"
"Yes," he whispers, smiling against your lips. "Merry Christmas darling."
You giggle at the pet name. He knows it's one of your favourites. "Merry Christmas Shawn."
End
______________________
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This was my gift to alistoney/lightwormsiblings for the Malec Secret Santa, but I forgot to share it here ^^’
I tried to fit in a number of their likes into this and I’m happy with how it came out. I hope you enjoy it!
You can also read it on AO3
--
It wasn’t for lack of trying that Alec and Magnus had only been able to go on a single date. Alec’s plate of responsibilities was piled high and Magnus’ had just as many commitments as the High Warlock of Brooklyn. When they were free to spend time together they were often too exhausted to have an extravagant evening and instead Magnus would conjure some food for them and they’d cuddle on the couch watching some show that Alec could never keep up with but found it funny enough. Despite this they both lavished in these moments of quiet.
But that didn’t change the fact that Alec was determined to take Magnus on a proper date.
As soon as he figured out what to do.
Magnus was the first person he’d ever even been on a date with so he didn’t exactly have references to pull from as far as dates go. He’d read a few articles he’d come across online but they involved going on trips or elaborate planning that Alec knew would need Magnus’ input.
Sure, Magnus would probably enjoy Alec taking him to the movies but he had no idea what was even showing let alone what would be a good choice. “Netflix and chill” had been a popular option but Alec wasn’t ready for that step yet and if he wasn’t looking to “get down” they’d just be doing what they already were doing.
So Alec turned to the only person he could trust with dating advice: Izzy.
Standing outside his sister’s door, he took a deep breath and knocked three times before he could talk himself out of this. He was doing this for Magnus, besides Izzy would at least keep her teasing to a minimum.
A few moments later, Izzy swung her door open, a smile breaking across her face when she saw him. “Hey big bro, what’s up?” Izzy asked.
“I was hoping to ask you something,” Alec said, shifting from foot-to-foot.
“You know you can ask me anything.”
“In private?”
Izzy’s brows pinched together and she pulled her door further open. “Of course, come on in.”
Alec followed his sister into her room, noting the small pile of clothes piled on her bed. “You getting ready for something?”
His sister grinned and did a twirl. “I’m free from patrol tonight so I figured I’d go dancing.”
“Well, you’ll have no problem turning heads,” Alec commented with a grin of his own.
She waggled her finger at him. “I never do.”
Not for the first time did Alec envy his sister’s confidence. His sister was beautiful and she seemed to have no fear going after what she wanted. “True,” Alec finally replied.
Izzy sat on her bed and patted the spot beside her. “Come sit down, no point wearing a trench into my floor.”
He didn’t even know he’d started pacing. He joined her on the edge of her bed and picked at a loose thread at the cuff of his long-sleeve. “So uh I wanted to ask for some advice.”
He could hear the surprise in Izzy’s voice. “Advice? About what?”
“Y’know…”
“No Alec, I can’t say I do know.”
“I want to take Magnus on a date,” Alec started, looking his sister in the eyes. “Our first date didn’t go too well and I want to make sure this one goes well.”
“I didn’t hear about this disastrous first date!” Izzy whined, poking him in the side. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Alec sighed and ran his hand through his hair. “It wasn’t disastrous, it was… fine.”
His sister snorted out a laugh leaning against his shoulder to keep herself upright. “That tells me that it definitely wasn’t fine.”
“We just talked about the wrong things and I was nervous and Magnus made an escape plan with Catarina to get out of the date if it was going badly.” Honestly, it was kind of hilarious to think about now.
“But he didn’t leave.”
He couldn’t fight his smile. “No, he didn’t in the end,” Alec conceded.
Izzy clapped him on the shoulder. “Well that gives us something to work towards: making this date better than the first.” She paused, tilting her head. “But wait, I know you and Magnus have spent more time together since then.”
He shrugged. “We’ve just been hanging out at his loft. Getting takeout, watching things he suggests.”
“You guys are so lame,” Izzy teased, but her eyes were soft and her smile warm. “I’ve never seen you so happy.”
And he was happy. He was happier than he’d ever been and it was because of Magnus. “I am happy.”
His sister sighed dreamily, falling back on her bed. “Alright, so what’ve you got planned so far for this date of yours?”
“Well, I thought dinner at a restaurant would be nice,” Alec said, dragging his hand across the silky texture of Izzy’s comforter. “Take him to the Thai place he’s mentioned loving.”
“Good idea and you like Thai food too, right?”
“Yeah, I’ve liked it every time Magnus has conjured some for us.”
“Perfect, you’ve got the first thing down for your date itinerary,” Izzy cheered, sitting up. “Once you pick a day for your date I’d suggest making reservations to make sure you get a table and don’t have to wait.”
Alec added ‘make reservation’ to his mental to-do list, right after asking when Magnus was free to go on this date he was planning. He could make reservations.
“What’s your next idea?” Izzy asked.
This was literally as far as he’d gotten in his planning which was why he’d come to Izzy. “What do you suggest?” He questioned.
“Well Magnus likes a good party and drinking,” Izzy hedged, “why not take him dancing?”
That sounded like a terrible idea. “Izzy I don’t know if you remember, but I’m not exactly a dancer.”
She waved a hand at him. “You don’t have to be a dancer to take him to a club, just move to the music.”
“And step on his toes?”
The grin on Izzy’s face was devilish. “You don’t have to move your feet to move to the music, Alec.”
He felt his face burn red. “W-well I guess I could take him to Pandemonium. To dance.”
“Date night activity number two decided,” Izzy nudged him with her elbow. “We’re knocking this out.”
He guessed they sort of were, but he also didn’t know how many people needed to go to their sister to help them plan a date, especially at his age. “And maybe end the night with a walk back to his loft?” Alec suggested.
“Taking your man home, Alec you’re so sweet.”
Alec bumped her shoulder with his. “He likes the lights, and I like walking home with him.” He let out a self-depreciating laugh. “Make my nerves chill out after dancing with Magnus.” When he didn’t hear a response from Izzy he turned to her, “Is the walk not a good idea?”
Izzy blinked wide-eyes at him before shaking her head. “No, no the walk sounds like a great idea, it’s just…” her voice trailed off.
He raised a brow at her. “It’s just… what?”
“You called the loft home.”
His brows went towards his hairline. “I did?”
Nodding her head, Izzy sent him a smile. “You did.”
“Huh.” He wasn’t sure what to make of that if he was being honest. The Institute had always been his home and to now also think of Magnus’ loft – a place he hadn’t even known for more than six months – home was mind-boggling. He’d have to think more on that later. “So, you think that’ll be enough for this date?”
“More than enough, big brother,” Izzy assured, “You worry too much, it’ll be fine.”
Alec smiled. “Yeah I guess you’re right, it’ll be great.”
It was a stroke of luck that Magnus and Alec’s schedules were free that Friday night. Alec even managed to leave thirty minutes early, giving himself plenty of time to get to the loft. Feeling emboldened by his luck, Alec stopped at a florist two blocks away from the loft.
Bloom Couture was surprisingly warm and the air carried the heavy floral scent that reminded him of his mother’s perfume. The selection of flowers was near overwhelming but he shoved the idea of walking back out of the store aside.
He could buy his boyfriend flowers. He could.
“Hey, welcome,” A bright voice piped up from behind a group of tulips, startling Alec. “I’ll be with you in just a second.” The florist, a young curly-haired woman, came back behind the counter and gave him a smile. “What can I get you today?”
“I was hoping to get a bouquet,” Alec said. He resisted the urge to slap his forehead – why else would he have come to the shop if it wasn’t to get a bouquet?
The woman just continued to smile at him. “Well you’ve come to the right place for one,” she gestured around herself, “what did you have in mind?”
He felt a silent panic buzz inside his brain. Roses were lovely and loads of people used them as a romantic gesture, but they were ordinary. Typical. Magnus was vibrant and magical, beautiful and so different from anyone Alec had ever met before. Roses wouldn’t be enough for Magnus. He deserved something unique.
“If you don’t have any ideas right now, you can suggest a color and we could go from there,” the angel behind the counter offered.
“Blue.” Like Magnus’ magic.
The florist, Heather now that he looked at her nametag nodded. “Blue is a good color to narrow down our choices, not that many flowers that are naturally blue. We’ve got bluebells, irises, delphinium, hydrangeas, hyacinths, and I think I even have a bundle of blue orchids that came in the other day.”
That list was still too long for Alec’s liking. “Do uh- what would you pick?” Alec fumbled. “Not that I can’t choose I just,” he heaved a sigh, “I’ve never gotten flowers for anyone before.”
“She must be someone special.”
For a moment Alec thought about just going along with what she’d assumed, but there was a bigger part of him that wanted to tell her the truth. Ever since his almost-wedding when he finally stepped out of the closet in-front of his parents and all of those people, he wanted to shout it from the rooftops.
He was gay and he didn’t want to ever feel ashamed about that again.
“He’s magnificent,” Alec corrected with a grin.
Heather didn’t so much as blink. “Why don’t you tell me about him?”
Where do you even start when talking about Magnus Bane? “He’s magical,” he imagined Magnus snapping his fingers to summon a drink or when he’d shift his magic in graceful arcs on his balcony. “Everything about him is magical. He’s so strong and kind and patient. And glittery.”
“Glittery?”
“Sometimes I wonder if he just sets off one of those glitter bombs and walks right into it.” He shook his head and tilted his head to the side. “Maybe the glitter is supposed to bother me or maybe he thought it might, but it’s so undeniably him that I can’t help but smile when I find it everywhere.”
The florist has a soft look on her face. “He sounds like a wonderful man.”
“He is.”
She hummed to herself. “I think I have exactly what you’re looking for.” She went to the backroom before coming back with a bundle of blue flowers. “These beauties are those blue orchids I mentioned before. I don’t get many shipments of these, but I think they’d be perfect in the bouquet for your beau.” She walked over to collection of roses and put a few white ones into the bundle in her hand. “The white roses complement the orchids while making sure the orchids remain the focus.”
Alec stared at the bouquet and while he didn’t know anything about flowers, he felt that they fit him and Magnus. Magnus – so bold and beautiful that it was hard to look away from him – and him – who seemed plain in comparison but together they made something splendid.
It was perfect.
Despite leaving early, the stop at the florist took longer than he intended and he was ten minutes late. His heart jackhammered in his chest as he knocked on Magnus’ door. He looked down at the bouquet in his hands and ran his thumb along the glittering ribbon that held the bouquet together.
The door to the loft opened with a flourish revealing Magnus in all his glory.
Not for the first time did Alec wonder if it was possible for someone to continue to grow more beautiful every time you saw them. If it was possible for anyone, it would be for Magnus.
“Alexander,” Magnus said with a smile, his eyes glittering and his lips parting in shock. “Are those for me?”
He nodded his head, clearing his throat. “Magnus, hi,” Alec greeted with a boyish grin, holding the flowers out to Magnus. “And yeah- yes these are for you.”
Magnus took them with the tenderness you’d expect someone to have when handling a baby. “They’re beautiful.” He leaned his head down into the blooms, looking at Alec through the veil of his lashes. “Thank you, Alec.”
He felt warmth bloom in his chest and he knew his cheeks were pink. “I wanted to.” And he’d keep wanting to give his boyfriend flowers if that sappy look was what he got in return. He wanted to bask in this moment and pull Magnus into his arms and kiss those smiling lips but he knew if they started they wouldn’t make it to their reservation. “Are you ready for dinner?”
Magnus snapped and the bouquet was gone, presumably put safely in a vase on his coffee table. “I’m always ready for a good meal,” he teased with a wink.
Alec shook his head, chuckling at the warlock’s antics. “I agree,” he replied with a wink of his own. It felt weird, but the laugh it got out of Magnus made it all worth it.
The restaurant was a bustle of activity and Alec sent a mental thank you to Izzy for telling him to make a reservation. They were seated towards the back, a more intimate setting than if they’d been seated at one of the middle tables. He also had the full view of the restaurant from where he was sitting that had his shoulders relaxing from their parade rest.
Magnus regaled him a drunken adventure he’d had while he was in Peru, gesturing animatedly between sips of hot sake. “- and stole a carpet before enchanting it so that I could fly over the desert.”
“Why did you want to go to the desert?” Alec asked.
His boyfriend shrugged. “Cat and Ragnor swear that I’d decided that I was going to stay there and become a cactus.”
Alec snorted, shaking his head. “Well you definitely would’ve been the most beautiful cactus.”
Magnus hummed in agreeance before turning his attention back to the menu.
Which was turning out to be the ban of his existence.
When he decided to take Magnus here, he hadn’t thought that the menu would be a problem. And it shouldn’t have been except Magnus had always ordered for him before or conjured up whatever; his boyfriend always knew exactly what to get him.
But he’d never seen the names of the dishes before and a lot of them sounded similar based on their description. All the dishes seemed good and he’d probably eat anything he got. But that didn’t mean much since Izzy’s cooking sounded delicious when she described it and it’d long been proven that Izzy couldn’t cook to save her life (though Alec still managed to choke down half of anything she made him). He knew he was thinking about this too much and he was desperate for Magnus to tell another story so he could stop looking at the glossy pages in front of him.
“Are you alright?” Magnus questioned, his hand reaching across the table to touch Alec’s. “You have that look on your face.”
“What look?”
“The brooding one, the one where your eyebrows furrow and your jaw tenses.” Magnus squared his shoulders and puffed out his chest. “The Shadowhunter look.”
“I’m not brooding,” Alec protested, snorting at Magnus’ impression. He grabbed Magnus hand and laced their fingers together. “I don’t know what to order.”
The admittance seemed to quell Magnus’ worries. “Is that all? What are you stuck between?”
“Um… everything?”
His boyfriend raised his eyebrows. “All of them?”
He shrugged. “What do you usually conjure us?”
Like a lightbulb turned on Magnus seemed to understand. “We usually get pad thai, but I think you’d love neua yang. The papaya salad has a similar texture to cabbage and its savory.”
Alec nodded his head at the suggestion, his indecision gone now with Magnus’ recommendation. “I’ll get that then.”
“Or,” Magnus started, closing his menu and setting it to the side, “we can both get different meals and share them both so that you can try two new dishes.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“No, but think how it’ll spice up our take-out options.” Magnus scooted his chair so that he was sitting closer to Alec at the table. “It’ll also give me an excuse to be closer to you. We can just pick from each other’s plates if we’re like this.”
The familiar warmth that seemed make itself known when he was around Magnus flared hotter. “I think I’d like that.”
“Well that makes two of us,” the warlock winked, rubbing his thumb across the back of Alec’s knuckles. “If at any time you aren’t sure of something, you are more than welcome to ask, Alexander.”
After having to literally trick Magnus into letting him pay the bill for their meal, they made their way to Pandemonium. The heavy bass of the music reverberated through the pavement and Alec took a fortifying breath. At least they didn’t have to wait to enter since Magnus literally owned the place.
They made their way through a throng of people meandering towards the entrance, Magnus tugging him along with a manic glee. It was adorable to see the warlock so excited.
“This calls for a change in wardrobe,” Magnus piped with a snap.
Magnus’ sharp waistcoat and patterned button-up were replaced by a maroon, silk shirt that left a tantalizing amount of skin on display that had Alec aching to explore. He was also positive that Magnus’ pants had become impossibly tighter and he doubted even Magnus could’ve wiggled into them without magic.
Magnus was always beautiful to Alec, but now he looked sinful.
It hadn’t occurred to Alec that he might have worn the wrong clothes to go clubbing in, but he’d never been fashion conscious in the first place and Magnus didn’t seem to mind his leather jacket at all if the amount of times he touched it was any indication of the warlock’s opinion of his jacket.
Even though it was him who suggested they go to Pandemonium, Alec already wanted to leave. The place was packed with people drinking, shouting, and dancing to the beat of the music. He was overwhelmed by the influx of stimulation that left him disoriented.
But he came here to take Magnus dancing. Magnus loved clubbing. He could deal with some mild discomfort to make Magnus happy. He could totally go clubbing with Magnus.
No problem. None at all.
Magnus already started swaying his hips to the music beside him, but his hand never left Alec’s. “I haven’t heard this song in ages,” Magnus beamed. He pulled Alec closer and moved them so they were moving to the music.
Alec shuffled his feet in lieu of dancing, but he let his hips rock side to side as Magnus gyrated against him. If nothing else, he enjoyed the feeling of Magnus against him.
Their chests pressed together and Alec leant his forehead against Magnus’ as the warlock wrapped his arms around his neck. If it was just this, Alec could completely understand the draw of clubs.
But they were so loud.
He tried to focus on just Magnus, but ever-so often another person would brush against him and he’d be brought back to the reality that he was packed in like a sardine with all these people. He wrapped his hands around the sharp bones of Magnus’ hips to further ground himself.
“Aren’t you handsy,” Magnus boomed over the music.
“Only with you,” Alec assured. He wasn’t sure if Magnus had heard what he said but he hoped the subtle grind of his hips against Magnus’ told him all he needed to know.
They spent a few songs like that, grinding and undulating against each other. As a new echoed across the dance floor, Alec prepared himself for another round of dancing but Magnus pulled away from him and grabbed his hand again. “What’s up?” Alec asked.
His boyfriend shook his head and started dragging him off the dancefloor. “I figured a drink might do us some good.”
Alec knitted his brows and turned his head to look at the bar. “But the bar is that way.”
Magnus laughed and gave him a sly look. “I’ll be providing us drinks tonight, darling and I assure you that I haven’t made a bad drink in the last century.” He squeezed his hand. “Besides, I think the VIP section would suit us better for now.”
He tried not to rejoice at moving to the VIP area.
Magnus led them to the roped off area where only six people were hanging out. It was such a difference from the mass of bodies that made up the dancefloor and Alec felt himself already begin to relax in the new space.
He was pushed to sit down on the plush couch that Magnus usually sat at when he held court as Magnus summoned two glasses. Alec took a tentative sip, making a considering face at the surprisingly sweet and fruity flavor.
“It’s good,” Alec complemented. It wasn’t too strong and the sharp burn of alcohol was virtually masked by the sweetness of what tasted like strawberries. “What is this?”
“Strawberry margarita,” Magnus informed, taking a seat beside him and snuggling up to his side and taking a sip of his own drink. “There’s quite a number of drinks that don’t taste like alcohol and I’m determined to find out all of your favorites.”
“Well I want to know your favorites too.”
Magnus sent him a smile and kissed his cheek. “I’m drinking a ‘stepping razor blade,’ not only does it sound dangerous but the cayenne pepper on top provides a lingering burn.”
“And that’s good?” It didn’t sound pleasant.
“To me it is, but it’s definitely not a drink for everyone.” Magnus held out his glass. “You’re welcome to try it if you’d like.”
Alec took another sip of his own drink and shook his head. “I think I’ll stick with my own drink for now.”
“The offer stands, angel.” Magnus shifted his body so that he faced Alec. “Why don’t we play a game?”
“A game? Don’t you want to dance?”
Magnus waved off the statement. “I can dance whenever, I want to spend time with you.”
Alec flushed, his eyes darting down to look at Magnus’ lips. “Okay, we can play a game.”
“Excellent! I figured it might be fun to play a game of 20 questions.”
Alec had played a version of it with Izzy and Jace before, but he wondered how the game changed when played by couples. “Should I go first?”
Magnus gestured at him with a grin. “By all means.”
“Alright um…” What was a good question to ask Magnus? “What would- what’s your favorite… What brings you the most pleasure in life?” That seemed like a good question.
His question garnered him a heated look. “Well hopefully you if I’m lucky.”
Alec choked on his margarita. “M-Magnus! You know what I meant.”
Magnus’ laugh was beautiful even at his expense. “I’m being totally serious, Alexander,” Magnus purred. “But if we aren’t talking about sexually, I think making other people happy and safe brings me the most pleasure.” His eyes drifted to the dancefloor, to the dancing crowd of Downworlders. “Making sure my people are safe and taken care of to the best of my ability is something I will always strive for.”
Alec rubbed Magnus’ knee which got the warlock’s attention back on him. “Right, it’s my turn now,” Magnus said. “On a regular day, when you’re doing all your Shadowhunter-y duties, what do you find yourself thinking about the most?”
Alec thought about it for a moment. “Keeping my family and those I’m supposed to protect safe the most,” he admitted. “Both Jace and Izzy are ridiculously reckless and it’s hard to reign them in, especially with Red in the mix.” He paused and looked back at Magnus’ eyes. “But every day I’m thinking about you more and more.” He ducked his head and idly fiddled with one of Magnus’ rings. “I wonder how you’re doing, if you’re safe, if you’ve eaten, what you’re wearing,” he chances a glance up at Magnus’ face, “I wonder what color glitter you’ve chosen for the day and if you’re thinking about me too.”
The admittance feels raw and revealing in ways Alec had never been before. The majority of his life he’s spent keeping whole parts of himself locked away. He wonders if he’s always cared like this or if Magnus is special.
His soul crooned its love for Magnus before he ever had words for it.
His answer seemed to stun his boyfriend who continued to stare at him with lips parted and eyes wide. But all at once those eyes welled up and Magnus rapidly blinked what might be tears from his eyes.
“Magnus, I- Did I say something wrong?” Alec asked. He can’t see any reason for Magnus to cry at his answer, but he’d never been the best with social cues.
Lips descend on his before he can say anything else.
Kissing Magnus is just as magical as it was the first time and every time since. A pleasant buzz tingled from his lips throughout his body as he gave the reigns over to Magnus to control their kiss. His heart pounded in his chest and he felt warm.
He felt at home.
However, the universe seemed to have something against him because Alec felt the sudden chill of his margarita spilling on his lap.
He cursed as he broke the kiss, swiftly righting his drink and putting it on the table in front of them. The drink sept through his jeans; already he felt sticky and he knew that the red from the drink stained his thighs red.
“Shit,” Alec muttered, looking around for something to sop some of the liquid up.
“Allow me, darling,” Magnus offered, wiggling his fingers before he snapped the mess gone. “That should do it.”
“I’m sorry.”
His boyfriend smiled at him, all teeth and happiness crinkling the corner of his eyes. “You have nothing to apologize for. If anything, I should take it as a complement that my kiss can make you lose your awareness to what’s around you.”
Alec still felt foolish, but he didn’t dwell on it. “We could always try it again, second times the charm.”
Magnus snorts, leaning into his space once more. “It’s third time actually.”
“Hm, I guess you’ll just have to kiss me a third time then after this one.”
“Gladly.”
They don’t end up going back to the dancefloor. The stay in the VIP section and occasionally got up to sway to the music as they talked but other than that Alec’s plan to take Magnus dancing seemed to have fallen flat in the end.
Because Magnus knew Alec was uncomfortable when they were dancing before no matter how much he tried to hide it.
Alec can’t stop thinking about the multiple times their date hadn’t gone as planned as they walked back to the loft. The city is still plenty active at this time of night, but the streets are surprisingly empty. He squeezed Magnus’ hand as they walked and tried to tune back into the story Magnus was telling him.
“- She came banging on my door to demand how to best tell her paramour to kindly ‘fuck off,’” Magnus narrated.
“How’d she end up doing it?” Alec questioned, even though he wasn’t quite sure how the story started.
“She and the Seelie he was seeing on the side hooked-up,” he laughed, “they’ve been together ever since.”
Alec grinned, looking over at Magnus and flinched when he felt something hit his cheek.
He looked at the ground to see little drops of water begin to speckle the ground. Five spots quickly became ten then twenty until they were abruptly assaulted with a downpour.
“By the angel, really?” Alec yelled, quickly pulling Magnus to the closest overhang.
It was too late. They were both soaked, hair dripping into their eyes and shivering. Alec hoped that whatever angel up there watching him was having a good laugh at his expense.
“Well,” Magnus interrupted, running a hand through his hair, “that was exciting.”
Alec turned his attention to his boyfriend, taking in Magnus’ wilting Mohawk and marveled at the sight of his makeup still looking impeccable despite the water dripping down his face. “I- Wait, here,” Alec mumbled, shucking his jacket and wrapping it around Magnus’ shoulders. He doubted it would do much but the leather prevented the lining from getting wet and would do more against the chill than Magnus’ silk shirt.
Magnus ran his fingers across the worn leather of his jacket with what looked like a quiet reverence, like he couldn’t believe what he had just transpired. Like before, Magnus was the one who broke their silence. “Aren’t you cold?”
He shook his head. “I’m fine, I’m just sorry about this.”
“About the rain?” Magnus’ lips twitched as if fighting a smile. “Darling, you can’t do anything about the weather.”
“About this whole night.”
Magnus froze and his eyes shuttered and Alec knew he must’ve said something wrong. “Do you regret the date?”
Alec blinked owlishly at Magnus and shook his head. “No, I don’t regret the date it’s just…” He groaned and tugged at his hair, “I had this whole date planned. I picked the restaurant, I made plans to go dancing with you, I even thought of our walk home.” His voice quieted to a whisper. “But everything went wrong.”
It was Magnus’ turn to look confused. “What went wrong?” He sounded genuinely confused by Alec’s confession.
“I was late to pick you up, I couldn’t pick what to eat at the restaurant,” Alec listed. “When we went dancing you felt like you had to take me off the dancefloor because I couldn’t handle it. And then I went and spilled my drink on myself while we were having a moment and you had to clean me up.” He let out a self-depreciating laugh, pinching the bridge of his nose and gesturing to the sky. “Not even our walk went as planned because now it’s raining.”
Magnus didn’t say anything for a few grueling moments and Alec felt his frustration dwindle to the familiar feeling of inadequacy.
His best was never good enough.
Magnus cupped his cheek and directed his gaze back to him. “Alexander,” Magnus cooed. Like Alec was something precious. “How is any of that bad?”
Alec opened his mouth to repeat himself, but Magnus pressed his lips tenderly to Alec’s own. It was chaste but there’s a comfort in the soft touch.
“I’ll be honest with you, Alec,” Magnus said, “this has been one of the best dates I’ve ever been on.” His boyfriend ran his thumbs across Alec’s cheekbones. “You brought me flowers because you thought I’d like them. You took me to a restaurant I’d only mentioned liking to you once before.” He kissed Alec’s nose. “You took me to a club which I know isn’t your scene because you know that I like to party.”
Alec shrugged. “It makes you happy.”
Magnus rubs their noses together before he leaned his forehead against Alec’s. “That’s what I mean, Alec. How could I ever think it was a bad date when you’ve done everything to make sure I enjoyed myself?”
Alec let out a shuddering breath, clutching at Magnus’ waist underneath his jacket. “But-“
“Ask me what my ideal date is, Alexander.”
It’s a command and Alexander can’t refute. “What is your ideal date, Magnus?”
His warlock pulled back to look him in the eye, his eyes holding the same softness they held back at the club after he’d answered Magnus’ question. “My ideal date is being with you,” Magnus insisted. “It’s getting to know you better and see you happy when we’re together. It’s getting to fall harder for you each time I see you.”
“That’s my line,” Alec’s voice wavered. His heart felt like it might burst in his chest but he never wanted this feeling to leave. He wondered if this is how love felt because he knew he was in love with Magnus.
Without a doubt, he loved Magnus Bane.
Magnus grinned and tugged Alec back out into the rain. Alec couldn’t help the watery laugh as they were once more pelted with water. He moved one of his hands up to the back of Magnus’ head, carding his fingers through the longer strands.
“You need to learn that relationships are never perfect and even when we want something to go perfectly it might not, pretty boy,” Magnus said. He must’ve cast a spell because Alec had no trouble hearing him over the rain. “Love’s never the best days or the worst days, but it’s beautiful and-“
“I want that with you,” Alec finished, surging forward with a renewed passion. The kiss was wet and their teeth clacked together in their enthusiasm and too soon they were breaking apart to laugh against each other’s lips.
He wanted to try and chase the taste of that laughter from Magnus’ lips, but was content to lean his forehead back against Magnus’, the rain now a welcome accompaniment.
Love isn’t just the high and lows.
But maybe that’s what makes it perfect to Alec.
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“into the fall” deleted scene, vers. 2
writing that thread yesterday reminded me that I had so many versions of the scene where MY goes to KT’s place. They all ended up being too angsty to make it into the final version of the story, but now that I used the snuggles & storytime version in “journal of a teenage year” I feel like I can share these other deleted scenes.
In this version, MY goes to KT’s place not because she’s realized her feelings for him, but because she’s upset. I’ll lead into the scene with text from the published version in italics, so you can see where it would have been situated in the original story. This particular version has parts from the other deleted scene (let’s call that one version 1), but with a different ending dialogue. I was sad to loose the intimacy of this scene, because it shows just how much deeper their connection is, but alas, I just wanted to write a light-hearted story so...
Anyway, I’ll post another version in the coming days. I hope you enjoy!
Version 2: Angst city
Sometimes he stays the night. Sometimes not.
Sometimes they meet and don’t have sex. Sometimes an office visit really is just an office visit.
Moon-young doesn’t really know what the rules are here. She doesn’t understand what they’re doing. Kang-tae doesn’t mention it, never brings it up, and seems perfectly happy with whatever their arrangement is. But she’s confused and unsettled, unsure of what to do or say. Mostly because, surprisingly enough, a re-introduction to their physical intimacy has not produced the hell-mouth she thought it would.
There hasn’t been a single fight. She can’t remember the last time one of them snapped at the other. When it was that one of them stormed out of a room in anger.
When they’re together, in between all the hooking up, they snuggle and laugh and share thoughts and opinions and secrets. And it is nice. Nice that they could be like this again. Nice to lower walls. Nice to share in the intimacy that had always been present between them.
It feels so natural.
But it also feels so fragile, like a spring morning, and Moon-young doesn’t want to ruin it, doesn’t want to destroy this good and beautiful thing by bringing up questions and whatever harsh reality exists for them.
If it can’t be forever, she’ll take it for right now.
And she’ll worry about the fall later.
It happens unexpectedly.
Moon-young is having a terrible day. Any contact with her estranged mother sours her mood completely, ruins any plans that she might have had. A single phone call and a shadow will loom over her for the rest of the day, dark and storming and brewing. It makes her want to lash out at the world, makes her want to be reckless, makes her want to do something big and dangerous -- something that she can throw all her energy, all her feelings, all her thoughts towards. Something to distract her.
Something to ease her weary heart.
She doesn’t know how she ended up at Kang-tae’s door, but he takes one look at her face and lets her in without a word.
They’re sitting at the kitchen counter, cups of lukewarm tea before them. They’re just sitting, sometimes exchanging words but mostly just sitting in the moment, sharing the space together. Silence stretches on between them, but it isn’t empty nor is it burdensome. It occurs to Moon-young that he is the only person that she feels comfortable enough with to not have to say anything at all.
Kang-tae is sitting by her side, nursing his mug and waiting to listen to anything that she might say. His usual suits and coiffed hair are replaced with casual t-shirts and a pair of thick glasses. On the table next to them are notes from some manuscript, the red scrawls from his pen bleed across the page.
“I’m sorry for interrupting. You were working,” she says, only just piecing together that he might have been busy when she arrived at his door.
He waves her off. “It’s not important.”
They lapse into silence once more.
“Is this about your mom?” he asks, breaking into her thoughts. If the question had come from anyone but Kang-tae, she would have denied it. Would have stormed out of the room, having no desire to air out her family’s dirty laundry. But he wasn’t just anyone. He knew her whole history. This wasn’t the first time he’s seen her angry and upset and despondent. Moon-young meets his eyes and finds only sympathy, not pity.
She nods.
Kang-tae purses his lips, clearly displeased. “What did she say this time?”
“The usual,” she shrugs. “How I’m an ungrateful daughter. How I wouldn’t be where I am if it wasn’t for her. It’s always the same. Nothing I haven’t heard before.”
“I wish she would just leave you alone.”
“She had no problem doing it before,” Moon-young says bitterly. “Funny how becoming a best-selling author changes things.”
Her mother had abandoned her just after her tenth birthday, leaving her under the care of her mostly absent father. Moon-young was raised by a series of live-in babysitters and tutors. She hadn’t heard a single word from her mother in over fifteen years. It wasn’t until her first book was published and her name was in the news that Moon-young first got a phone call from an unknown number.
Moon-young’s long lost mother was suddenly interested in reconciling. Had seen the error of her ways. Had seen a photo of Moon-young in the local paper and wanted to get to know the woman she had become.
But Moon-young wasn’t interested. Her success was hers alone. And if her mother didn’t care enough to go through the tough times with her, all the times when Moon-young had struggled to live as a writer and received rejection letter after rejection letter, then her mother certainly didn’t have a right to enjoy Moon-young’s success.
Her mother, naturally, did not appreciate being so cut out, and ever so often Moon-young received a letter or call that full of vitriol from her own mother.
In a way, she felt haunted.
Suddenly, Moon-young pushes away her tea. “I need something stronger,” she declares, already moving to stand and make good use of Kang-tae’s well-stocked dry bar.
Instead, he reaches over and takes her hand in his. His hold is so stable, so steadfast and sure. His thumbs rub circles on the back of her hand, and Moon-young finds herself sitting back down.
“Let’s leave the alcohol for another time,” he suggests, his words calm and gentle. “How about we get you into bed, and I’ll read you a story.”
Somewhere in the middle of his tale, Moon-young starts to cry.
Tears leak from her eyes, pouring out her sadness, and she can’t help it. Can’t stop the shaking of her chin or the sobs that crawl out of her mouth.
And she hates it all, because her mother doesn’t deserve her sadness, her tears.
But Kang-tae is right there.
He pulls her in tighter, brushes away her tears before they have a chance to fall. He whispers comforting words in her ear, reminds her of how brilliant she is, and how strong, and that she didn’t owe her mother anything, that Moon-young belonged to herself.
And he kisses her.
Soft, lingering kisses on her cheeks, her eyelids. When Kang-tae kisses her lips, she can taste the saltiness of her tears.
But also, a sweetness. A kindness.
She wants, so desperately, to capture that. To taste it on her tongue and devour it so that it becomes a part of her. To be so full of sweetness and kindness that there is no room for sadness. So that nothing bad can ever get in.
Moon-young wraps her arms around Kang-tae’s neck, bringing him in closer until the weight of his body presses down on her, and she slides her tongue past his lips.
“Hey, hey,” he says, breaking off the kiss. “It’s okay. We don’t have to do anything tonight.”
He didn’t understand. She needed this. She shakes her head. “No, please,” Moon-young insists, arching up into him.
Kang-tae hisses at the contact. “I think,” he starts, his voice now shaky, “that we should just try and sleep. You’re upset and I--”
“Please, Kang-tae,” she reaches up to try and kiss him again. She needs this. Needs this oblivion. “Please, I--”
He tries to avoid her lips. “Moon-young…”
“Please just make love to me,” she blurts in desperation.
He freezes. Seconds roll by before he pulls back, hovering over her. “What?”
And for some reason she’s crying again. “Please, please. Kang-tae. Please can you just--” and she doesn’t care that she’s begging.
Kang-tae’s gaze is probing as he locks eyes with her. He’s hesitating, warring with himself, but slowly his eyes drop from hers to settle on her lips. He gives a small nod before he kisses her.
Afterwards she’s almost asleep when the fall happens. It is so quiet she nearly misses it.
“I love you.”
Her eyes open, she’s fully awake now, but forces her body to remain still. She stays that way, until she recognizes Kang-tae’s deep breath of sleep.
Moon-young is fumbling around in the dark trying to gather her things. It is early still, dawn is just on the horizon, giving just enough light for her to slide out of Kang-tae’s bed and make a hasty exit.
“Don’t forget your purse is in the kitchen,” comes a voice.
Surprised at being caught, Moon-young spins on her heel, and even in the darkness she can see Kang-tae’s eyes staring at her. He sits up and reaches for his pants, but seeing his bare chest for some reason seems too intimate and she avoids her gaze.
He turns on a lamp, and the sudden brightness burns.
“Leaving already?” he asks as he approaches her. There is almost something predatory in his gait, the firm set of his mouth.
Moon-young only just resists the impulse to take a step back. “I didn’t want to wake you,” she tries to explain.
“Hm,” he considers her answer. “And this doesn’t have anything to do with last night?”
Her heart is slamming against her ribcage. Did he know? Something like panic races through her veins.
Kang-tae continues. “The part where you heard me say that I love you.” He takes a breath. “I love you, Moon-young.”
Moon-young has to step away then. It is too much. She feels like she can’t take in enough air, not enough to breath, not enough to process what is happening. Tears begin to prickat her eyes, and she doesn’t understand why.
She pushes him away. “I have to go.”
He grabs her hand.
“Don’t go. Don’t run away. We’re good together, Moon-young. These last few weeks, we’ve been so good together.”
She snatches her hand back.
“Don’t do this,” he tells her, trying to hold onto her. “Moon-young!”
“This was just supposed to be sex,” she cries. “You weren’t supposed to fall in love with me!”
“I’ve always been in love with you!” he responds.
“What?”
“I can’t help it,” he holds her by the shoulders, hoping against hope that she’ll stay. “I’ve always loved you.”
She feels the world tilt on its axis and it steals her breath. “I have to go.”
And she runs, right out of his room, right out of his apartment, and down the block until he’s no longer calling her name, no longer trying to follow her.
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Merry Christmas, lightwormsiblings!
For @lightwormsiblings, I'm so happy I was able to write you this fic and I hope it makes you smile and you enjoy it. Wishing you a happy holidays; stay warm, grab your favorite warm drink and read to your hearts content.
Read On AO3
*****
Love Doesn't Follow a Plan
It wasn’t for lack of trying that Alec and Magnus had only been able to go on a single date. Alec’s plate of responsibilities was piled high and Magnus’ had just as many commitments as the High Warlock of Brooklyn. When they were free to spend time together they were often too exhausted to have an extravagant evening and instead Magnus would conjure some food for them and they’d cuddle on the couch watching some show that Alec could never keep up with but found it funny enough. Despite this they both lavished in these moments of quiet.
But that didn’t change the fact that Alec was determined to take Magnus on a proper date.
As soon as he figured out what to do.
Magnus was the first person he’d ever even been on a date with so he didn’t exactly have references to pull from as far as dates go. He’d read a few articles he’d come across online but they involved going on trips or elaborate planning that Alec knew would need Magnus’ input.
Sure, Magnus would probably enjoy Alec taking him to the movies but he had no idea what was even showing let alone what would be a good choice. “Netflix and chill” had been a popular option but Alec wasn’t ready for that step yet and if he wasn’t looking to “get down” they’d just be doing what they already were doing.
So Alec turned to the only person he could trust with dating advice: Izzy.
Standing outside his sister’s door, he took a deep breath and knocked three times before he could talk himself out of this. He was doing this for Magnus, besides Izzy would at least keep her teasing to a minimum.
A few moments later, Izzy swung her door open, a smile breaking across her face when she saw him. “Hey big bro, what’s up?” Izzy asked.
“I was hoping to ask you something,” Alec said, shifting from foot-to-foot.
“You know you can ask me anything.”
“In private?”
Izzy’s brows pinched together and she pulled her door further open. “Of course, come on in.”
Alec followed his sister into her room, noting the small pile of clothes piled on her bed. “You getting ready for something?”
His sister grinned and did a twirl. “I’m free from patrol tonight so I figured I’d go dancing.”
“Well, you’ll have no problem turning heads,” Alec commented with a grin of his own.
She waggled her finger at him. “I never do.”
Not for the first time did Alec envy his sister’s confidence. His sister was beautiful and she seemed to have no fear going after what she wanted. “True,” Alec finally replied.
Izzy sat on her bed and patted the spot beside her. “Come sit down, no point wearing a trench into my floor.”
He didn’t even know he’d started pacing. He joined her on the edge of her bed and picked at a loose thread at the cuff of his long-sleeve. “So uh I wanted to ask for some advice.”
He could hear the surprise in Izzy’s voice. “Advice? About what?”
“Y’know…”
“No Alec, I can’t say I do know.”
“I want to take Magnus on a date,” Alec started, looking his sister in the eyes. “Our first date didn’t go too well and I want to make sure this one goes well.”
“I didn’t hear about this disastrous first date!” Izzy whined, poking him in the side. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Alec sighed and ran his hand through his hair. “It wasn’t disastrous, it was… fine.”
His sister snorted out a laugh leaning against his shoulder to keep herself upright. “That tells me that it definitely wasn’t fine.”
“We just talked about the wrong things and I was nervous and Magnus made an escape plan with Catarina to get out of the date if it was going badly.” Honestly, it was kind of hilarious to think about now.
“But he didn’t leave.”
He couldn’t fight his smile. “No, he didn’t in the end,” Alec conceded.
Izzy clapped him on the shoulder. “Well that gives us something to work towards: making this date better than the first.” She paused, tilting her head. “But wait, I know you and Magnus have spent more time together since then.”
He shrugged. “We’ve just been hanging out at his loft. Getting takeout, watching things he suggests.”
“You guys are so lame,” Izzy teased, but her eyes were soft and her smile warm. “I’ve never seen you so happy.”
And he was happy. He was happier than he’d ever been and it was because of Magnus. “I am happy.”
His sister sighed dreamily, falling back on her bed. “Alright, so what’ve you got planned so far for this date of yours?”
“Well, I thought dinner at a restaurant would be nice,” Alec said, dragging his hand across the silky texture of Izzy’s comforter. “Take him to the Thai place he’s mentioned loving.”
“Good idea and you like Thai food too, right?”
“Yeah, I’ve liked it every time Magnus has conjured some for us.”
“Perfect, you’ve got the first thing down for your date itinerary,” Izzy cheered, sitting up. “Once you pick a day for your date I’d suggest making reservations to make sure you get a table and don’t have to wait.”
Alec added ‘make reservation’ to his mental to-do list, right after asking when Magnus was free to go on this date he was planning. He could make reservations.
“What’s your next idea?” Izzy asked.
This was literally as far as he’d gotten in his planning which was why he’d come to Izzy. “What do you suggest?” He questioned.
“Well Magnus likes a good party and drinking,” Izzy hedged, “why not take him dancing?”
That sounded like a terrible idea. “Izzy I don’t know if you remember, but I’m not exactly a dancer.”
She waved a hand at him. “You don’t have to be a dancer to take him to a club, just move to the music.”
“And step on his toes?”
The grin on Izzy’s face was devilish. “You don’t have to move your feet to move to the music, Alec.”
He felt his face burn red. “W-well I guess I could take him to Pandemonium. To dance.”
“Date night activity number two decided,” Izzy nudged him with her elbow. “We’re knocking this out.”
He guessed they sort of were, but he also didn’t know how many people needed to go to their sister to help them plan a date, especially at his age. “And maybe end the night with a walk back to his loft?” Alec suggested.
“Taking your man home, Alec you’re so sweet.”
Alec bumped her shoulder with his. “He likes the lights, and I like walking home with him.” He let out a self-depreciating laugh. “Make my nerves chill out after dancing with Magnus.” When he didn’t hear a response from Izzy he turned to her, “Is the walk not a good idea?”
Izzy blinked wide-eyes at him before shaking her head. “No, no the walk sounds like a great idea, it’s just…” her voice trailed off.
He raised a brow at her. “It’s just… what?”
“You called the loft home.”
His brows went towards his hairline. “I did?”
Nodding her head, Izzy sent him a smile. “You did.”
“Huh.” He wasn’t sure what to make of that if he was being honest. The Institute had always been his home and to now also think of Magnus’ loft – a place he hadn’t even known for more than six months – home was mind-boggling. He’d have to think more on that later. “So, you think that’ll be enough for this date?”
“More than enough, big brother,” Izzy assured, “You worry too much, it’ll be fine.”
Alec smiled. “Yeah I guess you’re right, it’ll be great.”
It was a stroke of luck that Magnus and Alec’s schedules were free that Friday night. Alec even managed to leave thirty minutes early, giving himself plenty of time to get to the loft. Feeling emboldened by his luck, Alec stopped at a florist two blocks away from the loft.
Bloom Couture was surprisingly warm and the air carried the heavy floral scent that reminded him of his mother’s perfume. The selection of flowers was near overwhelming but he shoved the idea of walking back out of the store aside.
He could buy his boyfriend flowers. He could.
“Hey, welcome,” A bright voice piped up from behind a group of tulips, startling Alec. “I’ll be with you in just a second.” The florist, a young curly-haired woman, came back behind the counter and gave him a smile. “What can I get you today?”
“I was hoping to get a bouquet,” Alec said. He resisted the urge to slap his forehead – why else would he have come to the shop if it wasn’t to get a bouquet?
The woman just continued to smile at him. “Well you’ve come to the right place for one,” she gestured around herself, “what did you have in mind?”
He felt a silent panic buzz inside his brain. Roses were lovely and loads of people used them as a romantic gesture, but they were ordinary. Typical. Magnus was vibrant and magical, beautiful and so different from anyone Alec had ever met before. Roses wouldn’t be enough for Magnus. He deserved something unique.
“If you don’t have any ideas right now, you can suggest a color and we could go from there,” the angel behind the counter offered.
“Blue.” Like Magnus’ magic.
The florist, Heather now that he looked at her nametag nodded. “Blue is a good color to narrow down our choices, not that many flowers that are naturally blue. We’ve got bluebells, irises, delphinium, hydrangeas, hyacinths, and I think I even have a bundle of blue orchids that came in the other day.”
That list was still too long for Alec’s liking. “Do uh- what would you pick?” Alec fumbled. “Not that I can’t choose I just,” he heaved a sigh, “I’ve never gotten flowers for anyone before.”
“She must be someone special.”
For a moment Alec thought about just going along with what she’d assumed, but there was a bigger part of him that wanted to tell her the truth. Ever since his almost-wedding when he finally stepped out of the closet in-front of his parents and all of those people, he wanted to shout it from the rooftops.
He was gay and he didn’t want to ever feel ashamed about that again.
“He’s magnificent,” Alec corrected with a grin.
Heather didn’t so much as blink. “Why don’t you tell me about him?”
Where do you even start when talking about Magnus Bane? “He’s magical,” he imagined Magnus snapping his fingers to summon a drink or when he’d shift his magic in graceful arcs on his balcony. “Everything about him is magical. He’s so strong and kind and patient. And glittery.”
“Glittery?”
“Sometimes I wonder if he just sets off one of those glitter bombs and walks right into it.” He shook his head and tilted his head to the side. “Maybe the glitter is supposed to bother me or maybe he thought it might, but it’s so undeniably him that I can’t help but smile when I find it everywhere.”
The florist has a soft look on her face. “He sounds like a wonderful man.”
“He is.”
She hummed to herself. “I think I have exactly what you’re looking for.” She went to the backroom before coming back with a bundle of blue flowers. “These beauties are those blue orchids I mentioned before. I don’t get many shipments of these, but I think they’d be perfect in the bouquet for your beau.” She walked over to collection of roses and put a few white ones into the bundle in her hand. “The white roses complement the orchids while making sure the orchids remain the focus.”
Alec stared at the bouquet and while he didn’t know anything about flowers, he felt that they fit him and Magnus. Magnus – so bold and beautiful that it was hard to look away from him – and him – who seemed plain in comparison but together they made something splendid.
It was perfect.
Despite leaving early, the stop at the florist took longer than he intended and he was ten minutes late. His heart jackhammered in his chest as he knocked on Magnus’ door. He looked down at the bouquet in his hands and ran his thumb along the glittering ribbon that held the bouquet together.
The door to the loft opened with a flourish revealing Magnus in all his glory.
Not for the first time did Alec wonder if it was possible for someone to continue to grow more beautiful every time you saw them. If it was possible for anyone, it would be for Magnus.
“Alexander,” Magnus said with a smile, his eyes glittering and his lips parting in shock. “Are those for me?”
He nodded his head, clearing his throat. “Magnus, hi,” Alec greeted with a boyish grin, holding the flowers out to Magnus. “And yeah- yes these are for you.”
Magnus took them with the tenderness you’d expect someone to have when handling a baby. “They’re beautiful.” He leaned his head down into the blooms, looking at Alec through the veil of his lashes. “Thank you, Alec.”
He felt warmth bloom in his chest and he knew his cheeks were pink. “I wanted to.” And he’d keep wanting to give his boyfriend flowers if that sappy look was what he got in return. He wanted to bask in this moment and pull Magnus into his arms and kiss those smiling lips but he knew if they started they wouldn’t make it to their reservation. “Are you ready for dinner?”
Magnus snapped and the bouquet was gone, presumably put safely in a vase on his coffee table. “I’m always ready for a good meal,” he teased with a wink.
Alec shook his head, chuckling at the warlock’s antics. “I agree,” he replied with a wink of his own. It felt weird, but the laugh it got out of Magnus made it all worth it.
The restaurant was a bustle of activity and Alec sent a mental thank you to Izzy for telling him to make a reservation. They were seated towards the back, a more intimate setting than if they’d been seated at one of the middle tables. He also had the full view of the restaurant from where he was sitting that had his shoulders relaxing from their parade rest.
Magnus regaled him a drunken adventure he’d had while he was in Peru, gesturing animatedly between sips of hot sake. “- and stole a carpet before enchanting it so that I could fly over the desert.”
“Why did you want to go to the desert?” Alec asked.
His boyfriend shrugged. “Cat and Ragnor swear that I’d decided that I was going to stay there and become a cactus.”
Alec snorted, shaking his head. “Well you definitely would’ve been the most beautiful cactus.”
Magnus hummed in agreeance before turning his attention back to the menu.
Which was turning out to be the ban of his existence.
When he decided to take Magnus here, he hadn’t thought that the menu would be a problem. And it shouldn’t have been except Magnus had always ordered for him before or conjured up whatever; his boyfriend always knew exactly what to get him.
But he’d never seen the names of the dishes before and a lot of them sounded similar based on their description. All the dishes seemed good and he’d probably eat anything he got. But that didn’t mean much since Izzy’s cooking sounded delicious when she described it and it’d long been proven that Izzy couldn’t cook to save her life (though Alec still managed to choke down half of anything she made him). He knew he was thinking about this too much and he was desperate for Magnus to tell another story so he could stop looking at the glossy pages in front of him.
“Are you alright?” Magnus questioned, his hand reaching across the table to touch Alec’s. “You have that look on your face.”
“What look?”
“The brooding one, the one where your eyebrows furrow and your jaw tenses.” Magnus squared his shoulders and puffed out his chest. “The Shadowhunter look.”
“I’m not brooding,” Alec protested, snorting at Magnus’ impression. He grabbed Magnus hand and laced their fingers together. “I don’t know what to order.”
The admittance seemed to quell Magnus’ worries. “Is that all? What are you stuck between?”
“Um… everything?”
His boyfriend raised his eyebrows. “All of them?”
He shrugged. “What do you usually conjure us?”
Like a lightbulb turned on Magnus seemed to understand. “We usually get pad thai, but I think you’d love neua yang. The papaya salad has a similar texture to cabbage and its savory.”
Alec nodded his head at the suggestion, his indecision gone now with Magnus’ recommendation. “I’ll get that then.”
“Or,” Magnus started, closing his menu and setting it to the side, “we can both get different meals and share them both so that you can try two new dishes.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“No, but think how it’ll spice up our take-out options.” Magnus scooted his chair so that he was sitting closer to Alec at the table. “It’ll also give me an excuse to be closer to you. We can just pick from each other’s plates if we’re like this.”
The familiar warmth that seemed make itself known when he was around Magnus flared hotter. “I think I’d like that.”
“Well that makes two of us,” the warlock winked, rubbing his thumb across the back of Alec’s knuckles. “If at any time you aren’t sure of something, you are more than welcome to ask, Alexander.”
After having to literally trick Magnus into letting him pay the bill for their meal, they made their way to Pandemonium. The heavy bass of the music reverberated through the pavement and Alec took a fortifying breath. At least they didn’t have to wait to enter since Magnus literally owned the place.
They made their way through a throng of people meandering towards the entrance, Magnus tugging him along with a manic glee. It was adorable to see the warlock so excited.
“This calls for a change in wardrobe,” Magnus piped with a snap.
Magnus’ sharp waistcoat and patterned button-up were replaced by a maroon, silk shirt that left a tantalizing amount of skin on display that had Alec aching to explore. He was also positive that Magnus’ pants had become impossibly tighter and he doubted even Magnus could’ve wiggled into them without magic.
Magnus was always beautiful to Alec, but now he looked sinful.
It hadn’t occurred to Alec that he might have worn the wrong clothes to go clubbing in, but he’d never been fashion conscious in the first place and Magnus didn’t seem to mind his leather jacket at all if the amount of times he touched it was any indication of the warlock’s opinion of his jacket.
Even though it was him who suggested they go to Pandemonium, Alec already wanted to leave. The place was packed with people drinking, shouting, and dancing to the beat of the music. He was overwhelmed by the influx of stimulation that left him disoriented.
But he came here to take Magnus dancing. Magnus loved clubbing. He could deal with some mild discomfort to make Magnus happy. He could totally go clubbing with Magnus.
No problem. None at all.
Magnus already started swaying his hips to the music beside him, but his hand never left Alec’s. “I haven’t heard this song in ages,” Magnus beamed. He pulled Alec closer and moved them so they were moving to the music.
Alec shuffled his feet in lieu of dancing, but he let his hips rock side to side as Magnus gyrated against him. If nothing else, he enjoyed the feeling of Magnus against him.
Their chests pressed together and Alec leant his forehead against Magnus’ as the warlock wrapped his arms around his neck. If it was just this, Alec could completely understand the draw of clubs.
But they were so loud.
He tried to focus on just Magnus, but ever-so often another person would brush against him and he’d be brought back to the reality that he was packed in like a sardine with all these people. He wrapped his hands around the sharp bones of Magnus’ hips to further ground himself.
“Aren’t you handsy,” Magnus boomed over the music.
“Only with you,” Alec assured. He wasn’t sure if Magnus had heard what he said but he hoped the subtle grind of his hips against Magnus’ told him all he needed to know.
They spent a few songs like that, grinding and undulating against each other. As a new echoed across the dance floor, Alec prepared himself for another round of dancing but Magnus pulled away from him and grabbed his hand again. “What’s up?” Alec asked.
His boyfriend shook his head and started dragging him off the dancefloor. “I figured a drink might do us some good.”
Alec knitted his brows and turned his head to look at the bar. “But the bar is that way.”
Magnus laughed and gave him a sly look. “I’ll be providing us drinks tonight, darling and I assure you that I haven’t made a bad drink in the last century.” He squeezed his hand. “Besides, I think the VIP section would suit us better for now.”
He tried not to rejoice at moving to the VIP area.
Magnus led them to the roped off area where only six people were hanging out. It was such a difference from the mass of bodies that made up the dancefloor and Alec felt himself already begin to relax in the new space.
He was pushed to sit down on the plush couch that Magnus usually sat at when he held court as Magnus summoned two glasses. Alec took a tentative sip, making a considering face at the surprisingly sweet and fruity flavor.
“It’s good,” Alec complemented. It wasn’t too strong and the sharp burn of alcohol was virtually masked by the sweetness of what tasted like strawberries. “What is this?”
“Strawberry margarita,” Magnus informed, taking a seat beside him and snuggling up to his side and taking a sip of his own drink. “There’s quite a number of drinks that don’t taste like alcohol and I’m determined to find out all of your favorites.”
“Well I want to know your favorites too.”
Magnus sent him a smile and kissed his cheek. “I’m drinking a ‘stepping razor blade,’ not only does it sound dangerous but the cayenne pepper on top provides a lingering burn.”
“And that’s good?” It didn’t sound pleasant.
“To me it is, but it’s definitely not a drink for everyone.” Magnus held out his glass. “You’re welcome to try it if you’d like.”
Alec took another sip of his own drink and shook his head. “I think I’ll stick with my own drink for now.”
“The offer stands, angel.” Magnus shifted his body so that he faced Alec. “Why don’t we play a game?”
“A game? Don’t you want to dance?”
Magnus waved off the statement. “I can dance whenever, I want to spend time with you.”
Alec flushed, his eyes darting down to look at Magnus’ lips. “Okay, we can play a game.”
“Excellent! I figured it might be fun to play a game of 20 questions.”
Alec had played a version of it with Izzy and Jace before, but he wondered how the game changed when played by couples. “Should I go first?”
Magnus gestured at him with a grin. “By all means.”
“Alright um…” What was a good question to ask Magnus? “What would- what’s your favorite… What brings you the most pleasure in life?” That seemed like a good question.
His question garnered him a heated look. “Well hopefully you if I’m lucky.”
Alec choked on his margarita. “M-Magnus! You know what I meant.”
Magnus’ laugh was beautiful even at his expense. “I’m being totally serious, Alexander,” Magnus purred. “But if we aren’t talking about sexually, I think making other people happy and safe brings me the most pleasure.” His eyes drifted to the dancefloor, to the dancing crowd of Downworlders. “Making sure my people are safe and taken care of to the best of my ability is something I will always strive for.”
Alec rubbed Magnus’ knee which got the warlock’s attention back on him. “Right, it’s my turn now,” Magnus said. “On a regular day, when you’re doing all your Shadowhunter-y duties, what do you find yourself thinking about the most?”
Alec thought about it for a moment. “Keeping my family and those I’m supposed to protect safe the most,” he admitted. “Both Jace and Izzy are ridiculously reckless and it’s hard to reign them in, especially with Red in the mix.” He paused and looked back at Magnus’ eyes. “But every day I’m thinking about you more and more.” He ducked his head and idly fiddled with one of Magnus’ rings. “I wonder how you’re doing, if you’re safe, if you’ve eaten, what you’re wearing,” he chances a glance up at Magnus’ face, “I wonder what color glitter you’ve chosen for the day and if you’re thinking about me too.”
The admittance feels raw and revealing in ways Alec had never been before. The majority of his life he’s spent keeping whole parts of himself locked away. He wonders if he’s always cared like this or if Magnus is special.
His soul crooned its love for Magnus before he ever had words for it.
His answer seemed to stun his boyfriend who continued to stare at him with lips parted and eyes wide. But all at once those eyes welled up and Magnus rapidly blinked what might be tears from his eyes.
“Magnus, I- Did I say something wrong?” Alec asked. He can’t see any reason for Magnus to cry at his answer, but he’d never been the best with social cues.
Lips descend on his before he can say anything else.
Kissing Magnus is just as magical as it was the first time and every time since. A pleasant buzz tingled from his lips throughout his body as he gave the reigns over to Magnus to control their kiss. His heart pounded in his chest and he felt warm.
He felt at home.
However, the universe seemed to have something against him because Alec felt the sudden chill of his margarita spilling on his lap.
He cursed as he broke the kiss, swiftly righting his drink and putting it on the table in front of them. The drink sept through his jeans; already he felt sticky and he knew that the red from the drink stained his thighs red.
“Shit,” Alec muttered, looking around for something to sop some of the liquid up.
“Allow me, darling,” Magnus offered, wiggling his fingers before he snapped the mess gone. “That should do it.”
“I’m sorry.”
His boyfriend smiled at him, all teeth and happiness crinkling the corner of his eyes. “You have nothing to apologize for. If anything, I should take it as a complement that my kiss can make you lose your awareness to what’s around you.”
Alec still felt foolish, but he didn’t dwell on it. “We could always try it again, second times the charm.”
Magnus snorts, leaning into his space once more. “It’s third time actually.”
“Hm, I guess you’ll just have to kiss me a third time then after this one.”
“Gladly.”
They don’t end up going back to the dancefloor. The stay in the VIP section and occasionally got up to sway to the music as they talked but other than that Alec’s plan to take Magnus dancing seemed to have fallen flat in the end.
Because Magnus knew Alec was uncomfortable when they were dancing before no matter how much he tried to hide it.
Alec can’t stop thinking about the multiple times their date hadn’t gone as planned as they walked back to the loft. The city is still plenty active at this time of night, but the streets are surprisingly empty. He squeezed Magnus’ hand as they walked and tried to tune back into the story Magnus was telling him.
“- She came banging on my door to demand how to best tell her paramour to kindly ‘fuck off,’” Magnus narrated.
“How’d she end up doing it?” Alec questioned, even though he wasn’t quite sure how the story started.
“She and the Seelie he was seeing on the side hooked-up,” he laughed, “they’ve been together ever since.”
Alec grinned, looking over at Magnus and flinched when he felt something hit his cheek.
He looked at the ground to see little drops of water begin to speckle the ground. Five spots quickly became ten then twenty until they were abruptly assaulted with a downpour.
“By the angel, really?” Alec yelled, quickly pulling Magnus to the closest overhang.
It was too late. They were both soaked, hair dripping into their eyes and shivering. Alec hoped that whatever angel up there watching him was having a good laugh at his expense.
“Well,” Magnus interrupted, running a hand through his hair, “that was exciting.”
Alec turned his attention to his boyfriend, taking in Magnus’ wilting Mohawk and marveled at the sight of his makeup still looking impeccable despite the water dripping down his face. “I- Wait, here,” Alec mumbled, shucking his jacket and wrapping it around Magnus’ shoulders. He doubted it would do much but the leather prevented the lining from getting wet and would do more against the chill than Magnus’ silk shirt.
Magnus ran his fingers across the worn leather of his jacket with what looked like a quiet reverence, like he couldn’t believe what he had just transpired. Like before, Magnus was the one who broke their silence. “Aren’t you cold?”
He shook his head. “I’m fine, I’m just sorry about this.”
“About the rain?” Magnus’ lips twitched as if fighting a smile. “Darling, you can’t do anything about the weather.”
“About this whole night.”
Magnus froze and his eyes shuttered and Alec knew he must’ve said something wrong. “Do you regret the date?”
Alec blinked owlishly at Magnus and shook his head. “No, I don’t regret the date it’s just…” He groaned and tugged at his hair, “I had this whole date planned. I picked the restaurant, I made plans to go dancing with you, I even thought of our walk home.” His voice quieted to a whisper. “But everything went wrong.”
It was Magnus’ turn to look confused. “What went wrong?” He sounded genuinely confused by Alec’s confession.
“I was late to pick you up, I couldn’t pick what to eat at the restaurant,” Alec listed. “When we went dancing you felt like you had to take me off the dancefloor because I couldn’t handle it. And then I went and spilled my drink on myself while we were having a moment and you had to clean me up.” He let out a self-depreciating laugh, pinching the bridge of his nose and gesturing to the sky. “Not even our walk went as planned because now it’s raining.”
Magnus didn’t say anything for a few grueling moments and Alec felt his frustration dwindle to the familiar feeling of inadequacy.
His best was never good enough.
Magnus cupped his cheek and directed his gaze back to him. “Alexander,” Magnus cooed. Like Alec was something precious. “How is any of that bad?”
Alec opened his mouth to repeat himself, but Magnus pressed his lips tenderly to Alec’s own. It was chaste but there’s a comfort in the soft touch.
“I’ll be honest with you, Alec,” Magnus said, “this has been one of the best dates I’ve ever been on.” His boyfriend ran his thumbs across Alec’s cheekbones. “You brought me flowers because you thought I’d like them. You took me to a restaurant I’d only mentioned liking to you once before.” He kissed Alec’s nose. “You took me to a club which I know isn’t your scene because you know that I like to party.”
Alec shrugged. “It makes you happy.”
Magnus rubs their noses together before he leaned his forehead against Alec’s. “That’s what I mean, Alec. How could I ever think it was a bad date when you’ve done everything to make sure I enjoyed myself?”
Alec let out a shuddering breath, clutching at Magnus’ waist underneath his jacket. “But-“
“Ask me what my ideal date is, Alexander.”
It’s a command and Alexander can’t refute. “What is your ideal date, Magnus?”
His warlock pulled back to look him in the eye, his eyes holding the same softness they held back at the club after he’d answered Magnus’ question. “My ideal date is being with you,” Magnus insisted. “It’s getting to know you better and see you happy when we’re together. It’s getting to fall harder for you each time I see you.”
“That’s my line,” Alec’s voice wavered. His heart felt like it might burst in his chest but he never wanted this feeling to leave. He wondered if this is how love felt because he knew he was in love with Magnus.
Without a doubt, he loved Magnus Bane.
Magnus grinned and tugged Alec back out into the rain. Alec couldn’t help the watery laugh as they were once more pelted with water. He moved one of his hands up to the back of Magnus’ head, carding his fingers through the longer strands.
“You need to learn that relationships are never perfect and even when we want something to go perfectly it might not, pretty boy,” Magnus said. He must’ve cast a spell because Alec had no trouble hearing him over the rain. “Love’s never the best days or the worst days, but it’s beautiful and-“
“I want that with you,” Alec finished, surging forward with a renewed passion. The kiss was wet and their teeth clacked together in their enthusiasm and too soon they were breaking apart to laugh against each other’s lips.
He wanted to try and chase the taste of that laughter from Magnus’ lips, but was content to lean his forehead back against Magnus’, the rain now a welcome accompaniment.
Love isn’t just the high and lows.
But maybe that’s what makes it perfect to Alec.
Notes:
Thank you so much for reading this! If you have time, I'd love to hear your thoughts on this. Did you like it? Favorite part? Reading comments always make my day!
You can also find me on my writing tumblr @cakelanguage
Oh and if you were wondering why I chose blue orchids for the bouquet: blue orchids specifically represent power, beauty and peace. I thought it fit Magnus and how Alec sees him.
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Can’t Touch - k.sm
Chapter Fifteen: It All Solves With You
Words: 1.9k
Warning: ..none.
You were hurt- as much as you didn’t want to admit. It felt like the past teenage depression stage, where you’d weep over things you weren’t supposed to, and overthink yourself to sleep. You believed that you’d taken it a bit more seriously, but no matter how many theories you made yourself believe, you couldn’t ignore the pinching hurt every time your husband came to your mind.
So you decided that you needed a small break. The best place to relieve some stress was the embrace of your mother with her heavenly tea by the side-table, and the comforts of your baggy old clothes. It was exactly what you needed and exactly what you’d wanted. Even the thought of such luxury was tempting.
I mean, what was luxury even?
So that’s what you’d done, snuggling into your mother and procrastinating. No university, no nothing, since it was the weekend and you’d taken a sick leave from your jobs. But what you’d not done was, notifying your worrying husband, intentionally.
The hurt from yesterday turned into a mocking vengeance and all you wanted was for your husband to suffer. You wanted him to regret spewing such words to you, and regret it terribly. You wanted to go buzzfeed unsolved on him for as long as possible. So, you didn’t let him know your location at all. You didn’t want to see him, after all that he’d said.
But you wouldn’t think that if you’d knew what his condition would be after a single day.
After finally gaining the mental and physical courage to kiss you of his own accord, finding no trace of you the second day was devastating for Seungmin. Willingly touching you seemed like an unmatchable success, beyond any accomplishment which even his recent cause of fame couldn’t top. But suddenly, you were gone.
The first thing that occurred to his mind was his formidable mistake of the previous day. He’d repeated all those horrendous words he said to you over and over to himself and continued to bitterly beat himself up for it. But that didn’t help. He’d tried to think about all the possibilities of your absence, positive ones. Maybe you went out with your friends, or maybe you were busy for something- you could do anything. But no. He waited further past your usual bedtime drowning himself in worry and rehearsing his many apologies for the hundredth time. But who was he going to apologize to? You didn’t return.
As the next day came, Seungmin woke up just before sunrise and jolted out of the living room in categorical hurry, earnestly hoping that he’d find you in your room all snuggled up and far into deep slumber. But you weren’t there. Guilt tripped him like chains dragging at his inordinate limbs, constraining him until he was on the very verge of breakdown.
He couldn’t eat or rest, all that he pondered about was you and your unknown whereabouts. He’d had a hunch that you were in your own home; where else could you go? Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to fetch you back- if you were there, he couldn’t face you with the guilt trapping him.
You must not want to see him.
Later that day, even Han didn’t need to strain his stupid guesses to know Seungmin was distressed for you. The first thing Seungmin heard from his shorter friend was, “What did you do?” with hard eyes and serious charade. It was all it took for Seungmin to break out of his rather thin façade and splutter in broken sentences; apologies. But what could Han do? He wasn’t the one who deserved the tousled apologies. It was his wife, who he couldn’t reach. And after a worthwhile, Han saw his friend indirectly begging him. Seungmin wanted his wife back- as soon as possible, only to see her and convey his apologies, after that she could go back to her mother. At least he’d know.
But now he didn’t know. And for all he knew, you could get kidnapped, abducted; considering his fame. All the other negative possibilities crowded his brain, and he found himself unable to sleep that night. The clutches of insomnia and his overthinking trait restricted him any potential peace. But he didn’t really mind the torture- he’d thought he deserved it after all those he’d said.
God, he was emotionally dying.
To think something like this will affect him so much, was the last of his thoughts.
Han had kept a regular contact with you after the day you disappeared. He knew you were relaxing in your cozy home, munching onto sebaceous Doritos as you re-watched your favorite drama series. He could go and tell his friend that you were more than fine and had automatically forgiven his impulsive actions. But you forbade him, very strictly. However, Jisung being himself needed double warnings from you to confirm his plans of doable betrayal, which came almost two days later. Jisung vaguely told his friend that you were, indeed, in your own home and staying fine enough. He also remembered to plead you to come back, so that both he and your husband could have some peace.
“Why should I?” you asked through the cellphone.
“You can take a break but please don’t be too long.” Jisung replied, tone desperate in contrast to his joking nature. Something was up- that you knew. Maybe he was worried about Seungmin. But didn’t your husband say he didn’t care?
“Did Seungmin put you up to this?” you asked, a sudden bit of guilt sparking in the midst of your quick words. You’d thought he wouldn’t really notice your absence- since he didn’t care, but you meant enough for Jisung to be asking you back. It touched you, somehow, that your husband was worried for you.
He probably did care.
“He did and he didn’t. Trust me when I say this Y/N, he’s been awful. He’s mentally vulnerable, you know. He spent thirty minutes saying how he fucked up and how guilty he felt. He thinks he deserved all that pain. I’m worried, Y/N”
It was unexpected for you. Even though Seungmin was his own brutal critic, you’d never have thought that he’d have destructive mindset. It wasn’t right, awful wasn’t right. Suddenly, you were the one feeling remorse for your reckless decisions. It was a slip of tongue, right? There was a fat chance he’d not meant most of it, if not anything at all.
You mean, he was the perfect husband.
And the next day, you were back.
Except, nobody knew that.
Seungmin was just stepping onto the carpets of his penthouse with blood-shot droopy eyes and faltering steps. He’d drunk very little water since morning and his aching head was undeniably getting to him. His skin looked paler and his hair wasn’t as nicely organized as it usually was, so was his tie. He didn’t even see you as he got in, sluggishly dropping his bag on the floor. Then, he rested his head on the surface of the door, hand reaching up to tug at his hair to sooth the pain of his head.
The sight broke your heart.
Although his poor condition was caused by lack of nutrition and water, it was partly your fault too. It wouldn’t have led to this if you didn’t take hasty and vengeful decisions, if you had just confronted him like a civil woman- if you told him you forgave him.
“Seungmin-ssi?”
Seungmin’s head snapped up, quickly turning around to face you, eyes widening in astonishment.
I missed you, but did you miss me?
He felt relief absorb the restless feeling of his heart, in depth. You were finally here, right in front of his eyes. All he wanted to do at the moment was to wrap his arms around you and hold you so tight until you couldn’t breathe. He wanted to whisper apologies into your ear, thread his hands through your hair and kiss the side of your neck.
He rushed towards you in impulsive nerves, attempting to pull you into his chest; but halted abruptly the next second. He couldn’t do this, after all. Even if he managed to kiss your forehead in your sleep, it felt so much complex to touch- embrace you in awaken state. The mere paranoia of it pulled him back.
It was visible how the situational expectations of your face turned into disappointment for a split second. But you didn’t let it show for long. Without further ado, you stepped closer to him, hands hovering far above his cheeks as you eyed his face with concern painted on your face. He found himself sighing in relief as he met your shiny eyes and furrowed brows.
“Oh my god. Seungmin, what happened to you?” You asked, looking into his eyes. But Seungmin wasn’t there, he was focused on your bright face and melodious voice that he was already in his own little universe. Your voice was relieving, very pleasant to hear; it washed away all the tensions, all the remaining conflicts. You yelled his name again, jolting him aback into ongoing phase of reality.
“Oh, I.. uh..” Seungmin stuttered, trying to think of any excuses that could justify for himself. “I didn’t really drink much due to work stress.” He decided upon telling the truth, half-truth. It was clear that it wan’t just that, there was more to it, more to him. But he didn’t want to burden you into thinking you were the one at fault while it was him. It had been him. The worry-lines of your face faded away at his answer, but the frown remained.
“You look very famished. Are you sure you’re okay?”
Seungmin wanted to tell you that there was no pain when you were here. All of his stress dissipated into thin air as soon as he saw your set of shimmering eyes in the lights of the living room. He was okay, as long as you were here. But he could only manage a little nod and an assuring smile for you.
“I cooked for you. Please freshen up and come here, okay?” you asked, worry dripping on your every pronunciation. Your husband nodded, giving you a convincing prim smile. Seungmin’s stomach fluttered with that funny, jittery feeling, again. Both at your smile and your blithe eyes. and another commence of a strange anticipation in his heart, restless to spend quality time with you. After almost a week.
“Just-” he began and you stopped yourself from heading to the kitchen. “I wanted to say that I am extremely sorry for saying what I did. It wasn’t me...who was speaking. Will you forgive me?”
You chuckled at him, teeth showing in your wide smile. “I forgave you long ago. I overreacted, I am sorry.” You said, running away to the kitchen right after.
To say Seungmin was relieved of his heavy guilt, was an absolute understatement. He was suddenly so happy and beaming with all the energy of the world. After many days, he was again eating with you, invested into your little conversations and your cheerful smile. He was smiling with his eyes crinkled and deep chuckle resonating through the house. The scrumptious smell of fresh cooked food, hearty laughter and your jovial presence was what brought him back to life.
It all suddenly solved with you.
And again that night, he dared to place a quick kiss on your forehead- this time slightly moist- as he took in your beauty that he so missed. He couldn’t help the small smile that seemed to be glued to his lips, never-wavering and never-lessening. Seungmin knew the funny feeling; knew that he felt a lot more than just care. And he caressed your cheeks for longer than he’d wanted.
‘Just this once’ he thought.
During the night, the navy hue of the skies and the crickets of the bushes knew just how long your husband stayed by your side. And he looked at the fading moon far up in the sky. Etheral, he’d say; so calm with its undeceiving sincerity. It was foolish that he realizes now that the moon is so so beautiful.
My love,
All I want is to be your moon
And show you all the little stars of my heart.
That surrounded your presence and worshipped you
For you were greatest beauty they’d seen.
{Instead of saying the words ‘I love you’ itself, Soseki Natsume said that the moon was beautiful}
#stray kids#skz#skzwritersclub#kim seungmin#stray kids seungmin#skz seungmin#seungmin x reader#stray kids fanfic#stray kids fluff#stray kids angst#skz imagines#skz fluff#seungmin fluff#seungmin angst#stray kids han#han jisung#skz han jisung#arranged marriage au#ceo au#stray kids imagines#seungmin arranged marriage au#ocd#i love stray kids#ceo! seungmin x reader#haha idk wot im doing with this#i feel like my writing worsened#this is cliche
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