#i used to be completely indifferent to him but he's grown on me as soon as i started to draw him
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For You Always
Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x reader (kind of lol)
Summary: you always knew Aemond had a soft spot for you, but you always just assumed it was him wanting to look out for his brother’s wife. Soon you find out that his devotion knows no bounds
Warnings: allusions of sexual assault
A/N: I was inspired by the dynamic between Alicent and Larys (and her and Criston). That dynamic is probably the most interesting to me to watch (plus when Olivia and Matthew are together in scenes it’s like a masterclass in acting. Might be my fav two actors on the show rn). I also just love the idea of Aemond being someone’s guard dog. I plan on writing things from this list. And plan on doing things with a black reader :). But I got inspired and it flowed very easily so I wanted to get it out. I am open to request as well! Please reblog, like, and follow if you enjoy 🫶🏽🫶🏽
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In hindsight, confessing your sadness to Aemond after the incident was a bad idea. But in your defense, it wasn’t intentional. You found yourself crying, trying to make it back to your chambers before anyone spotted you in distress. And there he was.
Whispers was something you had grown used to since arriving in King’s Landing years ago. Whispers about your family back home, whispers about your life now… including whispers about your relationship with Aegon. Most of the time it would roll off your back. Mainly because the rumors themselves were never true. It’s easy to brush it off when there’s no validity.
It wasn’t until one day you overheard two lady’s maids speaking about your husband. Certain words stuck out. Dyana, crying, Aegon, paid off, and moon tea.
You felt sick, physically ill hearing them talk. You had always wondered what happened to Dyana; lamenting on how good she was with Elia, your daughter. When asked if he knew why she was not around anymore, all Aegon gave you was a shrug before changing the subject. But now you understand why. Deep down you knew Aegon was not a good man, but you naively hoped he had changed after the birth of your daughter. His behavior was always questionable, but this was a new low. You wish you could let this roll off your back like the rest. No use in chalking it up to a rumor; you know Aegon too well for that.
You couldn’t help the tears from falling as you turned away. The walk to your chamber felt like forever. Mind racing; you thought about poor Dyana and where she was now, who knew about this, and selfishly you thought about if people thought you knew all along. That you brushed it off because that is what is expected of a lady in your position. Smile and endure. Ignore and push through.
That people thought you were just as cruel as your husband.
It was the tears on your face that made Aemond stop in his tracks. You tried to wipe them away quickly after you spotted him but it was too late. He all but forces you to tell him why you’re in this state. It wasn’t becoming of your station to be crying in the arms of your lord husband’s brother. But there you were in your room, pouring your heart out.
Aemond had always been good to you. His generosity was not something you were expecting when you came into the family. Everyone had responded the way you predicted. Helena was sweet. Queen Alicent seemed indifferent; not exactly warm, but always there if you needed something. The sicker King Viserys grew, the less you saw him. Aegon was doting when he wanted you, awful when he didn’t. Aemond was the odd one out. Completely shocking you with the concern he shows. You had made up in your mind it stemmed from his hatred for Aegon.
That day, Aemond simply rubbed your back and told you he’d handle anything else that happened with Aegon. It must’ve been your frazzled state that led to you taking that comment as sweet rather than ominous.
Silly you.
It felt like the whispers and rumors only got worse after finding out about what happened to Dyana. By the time you had worked up the courage to confront Aegon, another indiscretion made it back to you.
It seems that your husband has an affinity for servants and ladies in waiting. If rumors are true, at least this one is consensual. The name of a servant you know helps Helaena continues to get bandied about.
You can’t help but feel embarrassment and rage flood through your body. He’s one the princes of the storied Targaryen family, a future king if things go the way certain people in the Red Keep want them to. And here he is, not only abusing his power but making a mockery of you in the process.
A part of you wonders if you should go to Alicent. You decide against it; you know how the game is played. No matter how much she may resent his behavior, he will always take precedent over you. Then you think about going to Helaena, but you hated the idea of troubling her with your mess. So there you were, at Aemond’s door with a rant on the tip of your tongue.
It was nice. Getting your feelings out to someone who shared your complicated feelings towards Aegon.
Aemond rarely responds or gives you advice. Just gave you an chance to let it all out, which is something you appreciated. You left his quarters feeling a bit lighter. As light as you could feel with the position you are in.
You spent the rest of the week trying to avoid talking to Aegon, and spend time with Elia and with Helaena.
“A flower can wilt under love, the same way it wilts under detestation.”
Helaena’s cryptic language was something you had learned to just go with. Though, you did get an eerie feeling after she said it to you with a concerned look on her kind face.
You tried to push the hurt feelings away, and almost succeeded. Until your lady in waiting came to you one night with a nervous look on her face. Reluctantly, she told you news that she had heard.
You couldn’t hold it any longer the next time you saw Aegon. When the conversation started, you were surprised to hear him speak so openly about his cheating. You had just always expected him to act like the whole castle isn’t talking about it.
“What do you mean you told her she could be your second wife,” you hiss at him, trying to keep your voice low.
He winced and looks down at his feet.
“I don’t even remember saying it myself,” he says meekly. “But she surely remembers it. Won’t let me forget it.”
You scoff, and take good look at him. You think about how your mother’s vision for you, and your own blind ambition has landed you stuck with the biggest idiot ever.
“So let me get this straight,” you walked towards him. “You spend your days drowning yourself in your cups, and disrespecting half of the women in the Red Keep. And now you tell me you’re whispering sweet nothings into her ears so she keeps stroking your ego.. amongst other things. Some couple you two make. You’re stupid enough to say that, and she’s delusional enough to believe you.”
“My lov-“ you hold up hand to stop him.
“You will fix this,” your finger hits his chest. “I can’t even stand to look at you right now.”
You leave the room in a hurry, ignoring his tries to stop you. Where you are going at this hour? You have no idea, but you can’t be in the same rom as Aegon right now. But then you get an idea… the dragon pit.
Vhagar can’t fit in pit but whenever Aemond wants to ride her, he goes there.
You feel a bit silly, going to him to whine about how awful his brother is. But when you find him walking from the pit, the words and emotions just flowed out. Honestly for someone so outwardly cold, Aemond handles you so gently.
“To do that, and right in front of you is an insult.”
You nod in agreement because it is. It shows how much he doesn’t care. How much you carry your relationship with him.
“And the most frustrating part is that I just have to live with it,” you think about Elia, and the pressure there is to have another baby, a boy. “I have to not only face Aegon, but apparently the woman who he chooses lay with. I have to hear the whispers not about him being a disgrace. But about me being so frigid that of course he’d seek warmth from another.”
You run your hands down your face.
“What has my life become?”
Aemond doesn’t reply, just gives you an inquisitive look before nodding to himself. He walks you back to the room.
“Everything will be fine. Trust me,” his tone is so certain. You want to be ask how does he know, but you guess that’s what any person says when they’re comforting someone else.
You take a deep breath. Everything will be fine.
The day felt different. You don’t know why. You went through you typical schedule, most of which revolves around caring for Elia. Despite the off feeling you couldn’t quite put a finger on, the day was reflectively uneventful… until Queen Alicent comes to visit you.
She smiles as she holds Elia.
“How are you my dear,” her voice is soft and measured. The question is simple but it makes you uneasy. If things have made it back to you, they’ve surely made it back to her.
“I’m doing well your Grace,” you put on your best face. “Just a little tired.”
She hums in response.
“That’s good to hear,” she steps closer to you, lowering her voice. “I’m glad you were able to take care of any problems that may have arose.”
You blink at her. She’s clearly talking about Aegon and the servant. You did tell Aegon to fix it, but the quickness is surprising. Plus you assumed he’d come whining to you about it after he had ended things.
“I’m glad to know you can take care of things on your own.” she continues, and your confusion grows.
Didn’t know you had it in you? Take care of things? You truly do not understand what the Queen is saying. Before you can get into it, Ser Arryk knocks saying the King needs Alicent. After she leaves, you hand Elia to your lady in waiting.
You must go to Helaena.
You find her in her chambers, embroidery hoop in hand. The bright smile she greets you with drops when yo ask about her lady in waiting.
“A flower can wilt under love, the same way it wilts under detestation.”
Her voice is somber, and you let out a deep sigh. Who is the flower? She clearly knows something but you wonder if even she can even figure it out herself. There’s no way you can go one of your girls, you’d be tipping your hand. And Aegon never seems to be around when you need him. Then it hits you.
I’ll handle it
Everything will be ok, trust me
It couldn’t be. You try to talk yourself out of the idea races into your mind as you walk to Aemond’s room. You squeeze your eyes shut as you knock on the door. The aloofness of his demeanor only makes you more anxious.
“I don’t even know how to ask this,” you give him a tight, nervous smile once he lets you in. “Or that you would even know the answer.”
He’s sitting in a chair, and tilts his head to the side. You pause for a moment. Collecting your thought; the last thing you want to do is accuse him of something.
“She’s gone,” he replied after silence passes through the room. He sounds bored of the careful dance you’re trying to play.
It’s vague. Gone could mean a lot of things. It could mean Aegon did something right for once, but then again how would Aemond know that before you. You didn’t want her to lose her job. You just wanted the record set straight, and selfishly you didn’t want people questioning your marriage.
“What did you do,” you whisper, suddenly getting worried.
“I did what Aegon will never have the courage to do,” he stands up, and starts walking towards you. “I protected you.”
“Aemond what do-“
“You don’t have to worry about her anymore,” he interrupts you. “We took care of it.”
Your stomach sinks. We took care of it. There’s only one person.. no one thing Aemond could be talking about. Aemond on his own is intimating enough
“I didn’t want her dead,” you look at him with wide eyes.
He doesn’t seem phased by your panic. In fact he gives you a smile, or at least closest thing Aemond does to a smile.
“My future queen wanted something done, so I did it,” he says it as if it’s the most obvious thing ever.
He thinks of you as his future queen, you’ve known that for a while. Everything starts and ends with you in his eyes. Any threat to you is a threat to him. You had grown to understand Aemond’s intensity, but this is a lot even for him. The look in his eye makes you know this won’t be a one time thing. That he’s going to go to these lengths whether you like it or not. Haelena’s words ring in your head.
A flower can wilt under love, the same way it wilts under detestation
#aemond targaryen#aemond x reader#aemond targaryen x reader#house of the dragon imagine#house of the dragon#black!reader
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You Left
Part 2
Summary: Matt overheard his neighbor briefly speaking of a betrayal
There was a stranger situated in your living room and he couldn’t differentiate if they were a friend or an enemy. He knew you must’ve suffered a great deal of trauma. At times, your heart beat kept steady as you reassured him you were fine and the nightmares didn’t haunt you as often as they did. When he returns from his nightly activities, he can hear you still awake sipping on coffee to relieve you of the nightmarish memories he had yet to figure out. You were a complete mystery to him. A blank slate that perplexed his senses to the point where he could not deceiver lies from truths and vice versa. It was just a guessing game with you.
This stranger carried the same atmosphere as you did, his senses could not pick up any obscurities in their movement, and it only left him to wonder in the comfort of his apartment. He knew your schedule and you should be arriving soon. If he hears any discrepancies in the beat of your heart, he’ll definitely come check as Daredevil. His costume laid next to him and he slowly started to change in case he was needed urgently.
You stood right outside of your apartment, searching for your keys in the purse you’d carried everywhere, and you stopped for a brief moment. Matt wondered if you could sense something was out of place like the woman sitting on your couch. Most likely waiting for you to arrive through the front door. “Are we gonna talk like grown-ups or do you always break into people’s apartments all willy-nilly?” He sighed internally. You knew the woman who broke into your apartment and were not even surprised. Not a single elevation to your heart beat. Such intrusion didn’t even faze you. Almost like you were anticipating this happenstance to occur.
“Is it a crime to wait to visit?” The woman’s voice was silky but filled with a false cheerfulness.
“What do you want?” The lack of emotion in your voice rattled both the woman and Matt. You were often closed off to him but still managed to mask your joyful facade. However, to this person your true feelings arose. “You obviously want something, so spill. Why are you here?”
“I just wanted to see you.” Her heart sped up for a quick second, almost swift enough for his senses to miss.
You chuckled indifferently, “Bullshit. If you wanted to talk, you could’ve done it years ago. So why now?”
“You’re my sister.”
“Don’t say that. You left me. You left me in that god awful place while you got to play with the cool kids.” Matt could feel the grief and outrage of the whole affair. He did not know what you meant by there but it must’ve been horrid enough to hold such anguish and an immense grudge. Abandonment. It was one of the causes for your distaste towards the woman. “You know once we heard of your escape we felt a sliver of hope that help would arrive. You would save from that penitentiary of hell but you never showed. You never looked back.”
“I did try to help. I thought I killed him.” The woman pleaded. Grasping at anything she could to get back into your good graces. To reconnect the bond you’d once shared but Matt could feel there was nothing left to repair. It was severed the day you realized her presence was gone for good.
“Well you should’ve fought harder.” You asserted bitterly, “You should’ve looked for us. To see if you and your new friends could have provided us with some fucking stability.” Instead she did a sloppy job with her assassination attempt and chose to run away from her past rather than confront it head on. She had the ability to aid the rest of the little girls who had and hadn’t shrouded their hands in the blood of innocence. She had the chance at preventing more little girls from being reformed into mindless weapons but refused to do so. She instead chose to turn her back on her fellow black widows and widows in training, to fool herself into thinking she could splinter from what they conditioned her to become.
“Please.” Her voice was weak. Her heart was breaking into tiny fragments of what it used to be. Matt, with his senseless need to assist, wanted nothing more than to comfort you. The words you spouted spitefully were coming from a woman who cried for help numerous times but was never answered. A woman who yearned for the love she didn’t think she deserved. Matt cannot fathom the amount of torture you’d endured during your time in the place you and the woman referred to, but even he knew it’s ghost still haunts you.
“Leave.” Your voice turned hard. “You need to leave and never come back. It shouldn’t be too hard for you. You already did it once.” It was a cheap blow. You knew it and so did she, but nevertheless she walked towards one of the windows. Presumably the window she slithered her way into. She glanced over at the girl, now a woman, she’d once abandoned. Reaping the seeds she’d sowed all those years ago. Matt changed into his civilian clothing as this was happening. He could not stay in his apartment knowing you were suffering in silence. He wanted to become your shoulder to cry on as you had listened to him rant about his troubles beforehand. You need someone even if it is to sit in your apartment in silence knowing someone is within reach.
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#matt murdock#daredevil#black widow#black widow!reader#angst#the red room#trauma#marvel#marvel au#matt murdock x reader#matt murdock x black widow!reader#matt murdock imagine#matt murdock one shot
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Title: Hoard [2]
Pairing: Smaug x Human OFC
Summary: Angharad means “well loved one”. Perhaps that is why she was chosen. It is cruel irony—for a dragon cannot love. It can only covet, desire, possess. He does not love her.
Warnings: Kidnapping, Despair, Angst, Manipulation, Suicidal Ideation, Eventual Smut, Slow Burn, Enemies to Lovers (no fluff), Character death, Shapeshifting, Loss of virginity
A/N: 👀 anyone still here? 😅 this is kind of different from my usual works, so i’m just hoping everyone enjoys it. divider by @racingairplanes.
He’d been watching her more lately. Angharad was a woman, nineteen just a few summers past, now. She was used to the feel of men’s eyes on her body.
He is not a man.
Perhaps that was why she’d become so keenly aware of when his gaze rested upon her. His uncanny ability to sense what she was feeling made her nerves stand on end, and this time was no different. She could feel him as soon as he’d entered, his imposing heat as much a herald as the thunder of his steps.
Smaug didn’t often come to the bathing chamber, but here he was, his scales glinting in the low light. Angharad could see the moon, just above him, framed perfectly in the parapet windows.
“What troubles you?” The sincerity in the serpent’s voice didn’t fool her.
Dragons lie.
He wanted to know, of course, but only insofar as a jeweler inspected his diamonds for unsightly flaws. It was darkly amusing—there would never be anyone for him to show her off to, and still he draped her in gifts and finery, silvery necklaces adorning her elegant neck and beautiful chains as thin as thread adorning her hips.
“What makes you think I am troubled, my lord?” Angharad’s voice didn’t tremble anymore when she addressed the dragon. He was her only companion, and she was long past feeling guilt for engaging him. He was only half right; Angharad wasn’t particularly upset by anything—in fact she’d felt disturbingly little as the days wore on—simply staring down into the bathing pool.
But she had been thinking.
She’d been wondering what it would feel like to drown, if might would hurt. Or perhaps it would simply feel like… nothing. Wondorered if the nothingness would be warm and welcoming, or coldly indifferent to her coming and going. But of one thing she could be perfectly sure—Sooner or later, she would be free. The morbid thought had lightened her, and before she could contemplate it further, her keeper had swept in.
Perhaps in a few years, she would revisit the thought, when things had grown truly unbearable. Besides, if she failed, he would probably consider that an even greater insult than any attempted escape. An attempt to take herself away from him so completely would be met with swift retribution. Angharad wouldn’t have been surprised if he destroyed Laketown in his rage. Smaug had developed an uncomfortable habit of making his massive head level with hers, his great snout inches from her face. He’d hunted recently, there was still a little dried gore on his face as he spoke to her.
“I know you, my beloved.” His eyes are hypnotic, swirls of green and gold filling her field of vision. Her breath caught. “You are mine .” She could almost feel the weight of the words against her skin as he spoke them, his lip curling. “Do not think to keep yourself from me.”
Even her death was denied by the king under the mountain.
—
Angharad was allowed to cook for herself, time she valued and craved—if only because the dragon couldn’t fit in the kitchen. It might have been comical, save for the glowing, golden eye that sometimes watched her from the hall if she took too long.
Time had no meaning anymore and Angharad had stopped counting; the only passage of time she noted was the rising and setting of the sun. Her mind wandered as she prepared her meals, her eyes staring unseeingly at the tasks her hands completed. She would dream.
She’d dreamt one night of the baker’s boy, a year or two older than her, his handsome face swimming before her unconscious eyes. He spoke kindly to her, promised to save her. Her knight.
I wonder if he would have married me.
Their parents had spoken of a betrothal—but that was like another life. Another person. Angharad didn’t know that girl anymore. They’d kissed once, and his mouth was soft and yielding beneath hers. The boy her subconscious had dreamed up caressed her face. Promising again and again that he would come for her. And then, his eyes had turned gold, his voice booming around her as he smirked, his jaw elongating as he became the dragon.
Even in your dreams, you are mine.
Angharad had woken with a start, sitting straight up. He’d stopped letting her sleep in one of the abandoned rooms near the treasure chamber, instead, forcing her to make a makeshift nest of her own, soft scarves, blankets and pillows, which he curled about each night, his eyes slitted and dark in slumber. Angharad had laid back down, her back to the dragon.
I could swear he blinked.
She’d settled back into her soft bedding, her thighs rubbing together. No. She couldn’t be. She wasn’t… But she was. Her thighs were embarrassingly wet. Angharad wondered if he could smell it.
If he would say anything.
She’d kept her thighs tightly shut until morning, going to bathe first thing. She’d gripped the edge of the bathing pool so hard her hands had bled. No one is coming. No one will ever come. I will die here.
“I see you have a love of books.” His deep voice broke Angharad out of her reverie, and she turned to look at him. “I have never asked if you could read Dwarfish, pet.”
“Some.” She replied. “Why do dragons love the sun?” There was no formality between them anymore, either.
“Because it is the source of all fire. And what is a dragon, but fire incarnate?” He spoke so poetically of his own existence, Angharad could almost forget what he really was. What does that make me?
They were standing on the ramparts, watching the sun sink into the lake. She could just make out the city. If she strained her imagination, she could almost see her family going about their daily activities. She glanced at the dragon, his scales gleaming like embers in the dying light. His eyesight was keener than an Eagle’s, and she wondered whether he could see them, the people. I don’t want to know.
“Come, beloved.” She was used to the pet name now. It was better than when he called her by her own. That, too, was precious to him, another treasure. “I wish you to read to me.”
“Can I pick the book this time, my lord?” She asked, following him back into the belly of the mountain, where the vast hoard waited for them. He always made sure to keep the throne room brightly lit, so that he could see every bit of the vast wealth he had acquired.
“If it pleases you, my pet, it pleases me.”
When Angharad settled on her bedding, the book she’d chosen from Erebor’s extensive library clutched in her hands, Smaug regarded her with interest.
“And what have you chosen for us this evening, pet?”
That was a game they played, the two of them, a play to see how long she could withhold information from him. How long until he turned those hypnotic eyes on her and made her tell him everything. There was magic in the dragon, she knew that now. It was more terrifying than the dark fire burning in his belly, the power he had.
“Guess.”
“I hope it isn’t poetry again.”
Angharad had only read him poetry once, only to discover he loved his own flowery words better than anyone else’s.
“No, my lord.” She shook her head, her riotous hair bouncing. He looked at her then, his eyes luminous.
“Tell me, then, pet.”
Angharad’s breath caught uncomfortably in her throat. “Myths.”
He chuckled, his warm breath caressing her naked flesh like a lover’s hands.
“Fairy stories for human brats.” He hated humans. It was an interesting paradox, his love of owning her, and his hatred of her kind. “Regardless, I gave you permission. Proceed.”
She read. It was a story about a knight, a princess, a kingdom in despair. The land was laid waste by a horrible beast, who took the princess for his own. Angharad only stopped when the story was done and the beast slain; and her own eyed her sleepily, his bright eyes dim.
“Is this your own tale, pet?” Smaug’s voice was low and smooth, like the honey she collected just outside the gate.
“No.”
“You do not wish for a handsome prince, my beloved?” She could hear the mockery in his tone, and for some reason, it embarrassed her. Angharad snapped the book shut, shoving it roughly under her pillow. “Come now, my treasure. There are no secrets between us.” She wasn’t sure how, but she could feel his bright eyes on her though she couldn’t see him. Their effect was the same, drawing the answer from the depths of her heart where she had hidden it.
“I am a woman, am I not, my lord?” Her voice came out uncomfortably loud. “I have needs even you cannot meet.” Suddenly, the warm scales of his snout were pressed against her bare back. Angharad let out a surprised breath, biting her lip so hard she bled.
“What needs would those be?” Smaug’s voice was all around her, in her ears and her head and her blood, all thrumming with his words. “What have you needed —” the word sounded dirty, almost lustful when he said it—“that I could not provide?” Angharad’s throat was dry, and her speech failed her. “I would give you everything.”
“You can’t.” She rasped, wanting nothing more than to wrench herself away from his touch, but she couldn’t. The consequences… She wanted to shout that he never gave anything— all he did was take —but she kept those words trapped in her throat—she dared not speak them.
“Do not presume to tell me what I can and cannot do.” He hissed, a claw gently scoring her back. With an ounce more pressure he could kill her, drive his spearlike talons through her back and out her ribcage. They were nearly the length of her full body, and cool, unlike the rest of him.
“Answer me, Angharad.”
“I need to be touched.”
“Ah,” Smaug’s voice was smug and taunting. “The touch of a man, is that it, my pet?” Angharad shuddered as the sharp appendage caressed the back of her neck underneath her hair. His tongue flicked out as he spoke, caressing her back. “No Man shall ever have you.” Smaug’s fangs traced the curve of her hip before he spoke again, his voice echoing through the treasure chamber. A sob tried to work it’s way out of Angharad’s tight chest, but she forced it down, swallowing it. Though her back was to him, she could still feel his pleasure. His. Always his.
Only his.
Hello friends! I no longer maintain a taglist, so please follow @box-of-bones-library for updates and new work, thank you!
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#lotr#lotr fic#lotr fanfiction#the hobbit fanfiction#the hobbit fic#smaug the terrible#smaug fanfiction#smaug x ofc#smaug x reader#boxofbonesfic#hoard fic
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[+18 Fic] Messing around
Fandom: NARUTO
Rating: Explicit - 18+ Content
Pairing: Nagato x Yahiko x Konan
Characters: Nagato, Konan, Yahiko, Jiraiya, First Akatsuki characters
Content: Alternate Universe, Canon Divergence, Not Canon Compliant, Explicit Sexual Content, Trans Konan, polyamory, Fluff and Smut, Jiraiya not cringe AU, wholesome childhood flashback then it comes back to them as horny grown ups, blowjob, Shower Sex, Nipple Play, Teasing, Threesome, Grinding, Anal Sex
Word count: 8787 - 4 chapters, complete work
Summary: As they went out of their way to buy Konan a gift, Nagato and Yahiko get grounded and are forced to stay home together as Jiraiya and Konan go into town. The two boys explore a new side of their relationship, but are interrupted by their master and their friend. Later in life they remember this moment and decide to explore once more what they crave so much: each other’s romantic love.
I wanted to write an AU where Nagato and Yahiko kissed as teens to try it and then have to navigate their feelings into adulthood, especially Nagato who wants his two bff to be together but also isn't indifferent to how hot they are. It's "oh shit wait let's just be a triad" again im sorry 🙈
Chapter one under the cut (SFW), read the rest on AO3
Seeing how happy Konan looked with her skirt on, Jiraiya thought that maybe he got it wrong.
When he accepted to take care of these three, he thought he was looking after three boys. But Konan corrected him, and the other two insisted vehemently: Konan is a girl. He corrected his language soon, but was hesitant in which direction to guide her so she would not encounter suffering when she'd grown up. He had told her she'd wear the same outfit as her peers, so that way they were a team, but she got upset by that.
Without his knowledge, spending the little cash that he had been willing to give them, Yahiko and Nagato snuck out and bought her a skirt following her birthday. The fourteen year old was ecstatic, she tried it on immediately and insisted on going on training like that, which Jiraiya allowed, hesitantly. During the training, her two friends kept commenting on how nice it was, and she voiced how easy it was for her to move in it and reassured Jiraiya that she could fight in it with no issues. Jiraiya was impressed by the solidarity between these three. He thought that with these two to help her, she'd definitely do fine in life. He remembered how the two boys had severely scolded him when he called her a boy at their first meeting.
Back at the hideout for lunch, Jiraiya joyfully put the food he prepared on the table.
“Good job on your training you three! I'm very proud to have you as my pupils. Konan, I have a surprise for you.”
“Oh?”
“This afternoon, I'm taking you to town to get some new clothes for you! Anything you want you'll get it.”
Konan was very surprised and couldn't hide her joy.
“Teacher that's...! For real??”
“Yeah!”
“What about us, teacher? Do we tag along?”
“No. You two are going to stay there nicely and do chores. Because you're grounded.”
“What?? what for ??”
“Sneaking out during the evening. Even if it was for a good cause, you still disappeared and made me almost have a heart attack. Even Konan was worried for you twos.”
Yahiko and Nagato looked down, sorry to have worried their teacher and Konan.
“... Sorry... We didn't think about that…”
“We just couldn't stand how sad Konan was, we had to do something.”
“I understand and I think standing like that for her was an outstanding and kind move, but STILL. You two will stay there today.”
“Okay teacher.”
“Tidy up the house then read a book, build up your teamwork and friendship or play a game, I don't know, but don't move from here.”
“Gotcha.”
As planned, Konan and Jiraiya left right after lunch and the two guys were left alone. They swept the floors, cleaned the bathroom, cleaned the windows and finished by doing the dishes.
As not much was left to do, Yahiko, tired, went to sit down on the futons while his friend was finishing the dishes. He sighed looking out the window.
“I hope she's okay. And that Jiraiya keeps his promise to get her anything she wants.”
“Mmh. Same.”
“So do you want to do anything? Once you're done I mean.”
“I'm almost done! And no, I don't have anything in mind. What about you?”
“Hmmm, maybe I'll do like you usually do and read.”
Nagato smiled at him and got back to washing. Yahiko sighed, feeling a bit awkward to be left alone with Nagato.
He remembered when Nagato first joined their group, he used to not really like him, feeling like Konan had brought a stranger into their home. But now he considered the redhead his best friend, just like Konan. He had saved his life once, killing a thief that wanted to harm them, and was very protective of both him and Konan. Yahiko always felt a bit flattered whenever he was being his extremely protective self.
Ever since that man's death and Jiraiya discovering Nagato's powers, he had been wearing his hair split so that one of his eye was visible, in contrast to before where both his eyes were covered by bangs.
One day as they were playing, Nagato's bangs let Yahiko catch a glimpse of his eyes. Right after Yahiko reached for his bangs to catch a better look, looking in awe at his two big beautiful purple eyes. Nagato had very quickly pushed his hand away, telling him that his parents had always told him to never let anyone see his eyes. The three kids understood when Jiraiya panicked that it was because these eyes held great power and people could have harmed him if he let them be seen by everyone as a child.
Even if Nagato's powers were scary, Yahiko never felt scared by him. He liked that he was leaving one of his eye visible now. He liked looking at it. He really really liked his friend's appearance, thinking he almost looked as pretty as a girl.
Yahiko looked longingly at him while he finished his chore, realizing how far he had gone in his thoughts. Nagato dried his hands and came to sit next to Yahiko and smiled again.
“For once I can sit right next to you since Konan's not there. Usually she hoards the place next to you.”
Yahiko was still staring at him, frowning a bit.
“... What's wrong Yahiko?”
“I don't know, it feels awkward to be here alone. With you.”
Nagato was a little taken aback and made a sad expression.
“Oh... You don't like spending time with me?... Is that why you'd rather read?”
Yahiko regretted his choice of words and felt terrible that Nagato deduced that from what he said.
“No!! Nagato, I like spending time with you! I don't know, I just feel awkward today.”
He put a hand on his shoulder and smiled at him.
“You're my best friend Nagato.”
Nagato smiled back, reassured.
“Wouldn't that be Konan?”
“It's both of you. I really like you, I do!”
“Ah, I'm so relieved then. I really like you too, Yahiko.”
Yahiko thought, since no one was at home, he'd try telling Nagato how much he actually liked him.
“... I was just thinking about how much I like how you look now. Your hair really grew nicely. And I think out of the three of us, you're the one on which the green kimonos fit best.”
Nagato smiled, a little surprised, and blushed.
“You really think so? You look nice in it too, and so does Konan.”
Yahiko smiled, feeling warm in his chest. He didn't really understand why he felt that weird toward Nagato. Somehow, he ended up realizing that it was the same feelings as when he was alone with Konan. He was wondering why he'd be feeling that way considering Nagato was a guy like him. His young self did not realize yet that one could have romantic feelings for the same gender. He felt compelled to press on these feelings and see what would happen.
“Nagato… Can I touch your hair?... They always look so soft, like Konan’s.”
“Oh, s-sure…”
Yahiko gently passed his hand in Nagato’s hair, temporarily clearing his face from his bangs. The two teens felt their heartbeat spike up as Nagato’s two eyes gazed into Yahiko’s. Yahiko then softly caressed Nagato’s cheek, trembling a little. He was acting on an impulse, not really knowing what he was doing, or how Nagato would react. His red haired friend just kept looking at his eyes, he did not protest. Which was weird considering how usually awkward with physical contact he was. His cheeks were a little red.
He felt more warmth in his heart for his friend than ever, he gathered his courage and broke the silence.
“N-Nagato… Have you ever kissed anyone?”
“No… But you knew that, we’ve grown together all this time and never met anyone else our age…”
“Would you like to try to do it… To see how it feels?”
Nagato’s eyes widened and his cheeks got redder. He felt all warm at his friend's tender caress on his cheek too. Considering no one was home but them, no one would know about it, he gathered up his courage as well and approached his face from Yahiko’s.
“Yeah… I don’t mind trying that with you.”
Yahiko approached his mouth from Nagato and the two teens kissed gently, closing their eyes. After the kiss lasted for a few minutes, they interrupted it and looked back into each other’s eyes, only hearing each other’s breathing. Then they kissed again, and again... They eventually fell lying down on the futons, and continued kissing each other repeatedly.
They hadn't planned to make it last this long, so when the door opened both of them jumped and looked horrified at Jiraiya.
Their teacher gasped and they hid under the cover. Jiraiya gently asked Konan to go into the bathroom to try on her outfits and approached the two boys.
“God this is going to be awkward... Hey you two, it's okay. I'm not mad.”
“... You're not?”
“No, of course not. I guess the hormones started their work... Get out of there and fix your hair, Konan wants to show you her stuff."
“... We're sorry…”
“Nagato, Yahiko, you don't have to be. You two are experiencing something natural. Nothing to be sorry about, don't feel any shame or guilt. There’s nothing wrong with kissing one another.”
“Even if it’s another guy?”
“Of course, it’s all good. Don’t feel bad about it. Plenty of men love other men. You can even like women too.”
Yahiko and Nagato fixed each other's hair, then sat down waiting for Konan to show them what she bought. She came out of the bathroom wearing a white dress paired with a butterfly hair clip. The two guys hyped up her little show, cheering for all her new outfits and being so glad to see her so happy.
After she was done, Jiraiya started preparing dinner. As they were sitting at the table, Nagato, fidgeting with his hands, whispered to Yahiko:
“Yahiko... Thank you for today, it was nice.”
His friend didn't answer but his cheeks turned very red and he looked away awkwardly.
Konan arrived at the table after changing into her pajamas and sat next to them, smiling at them, and took Yahiko’s hand.
“You two, you know I'll love you no matter what?”
“Konan…”
“Give me your hand too, Nagato.”
Nagato hesitated for a bit but gave in upon Konan's insistence, very awkwardly. She grinned and squeezed their hand.
“You're my best friends, and my only family, I love you both and nothing will make me hate you. Okay?”
“Konan... Thank you. You're so kind.”
“It's normal. If you two become lovers, it's my job as your best friend to support you.”
Yahiko and Nagato's face turned red and they both vehemently shook their heads trying to formulate something intelligible.
“It-it's not what you think!! We're not -”
“We're not in love!!!”
“Y-yeah we're friends just like with you.”
“But you two... When we came home with teacher Jiraiya, you two were gently kissing on the floor. I saw you. Yahiko was on top of you Nagato. You were very cute.”
Their embarrassment increased as they had no idea their friend saw it all, since she didn't say anything until then.
“Y-y-you... You saw us???”
“Ohmygod she saw it all…”
“It's okay!!! I didn't want to embarrass you two, you don't have to feel any shame!”
“.....”
“It- it was just a one time thing... Nagato and I...We just wanted to try kissing... But it will never happen again.”
“Yeah. It was just today.”
“Oh... Well. Still, if one day you two change your mind and decide to be together I won't mind.”
The two guys smiled at her and she squeezed their hand again.
“We love you too Konan, you're the best."
“Yeah. I'm glad it was you who saw us and not some stranger.”
“Yeah. At least, even if we're a little embarrassed, we know we're safe with you and Jiraiya.”
“Still, it's too bad. You two were really cute. You had such serene expressions before Jiraiya entered and ruined your fun. Nagato, Yahiko, you're so cute when you blush.”
The two guys flinched and hid their red face, their heart racing from being called cute by objectively the cutest of their group. The three of them chuckled and hugged as Jiraiya put the hot dish on the table. These three’s friendship really was made to last.
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December 26 2022 1:44AM
Another Christmas when I sit in the filth of my grudges and pain. I find myself awake at 5pm and alone in our room because Tiger went to go see his family from his mom’s side. Which only led me to thinking of my family. I got on my other Facebook and started stalking my family’s Facebook accounts. Feeling more and more bitter every second I scrolled. And just realized how much these people took away from me and how much they don’t care. I know I probably sound like such a brat again. But I can’t help it. I’ve been robbed of innocence and wholesomeness. I used to have big family Christmases. Presents and food and staying up until midnight and the cousins. I used to have 2 families to go to to celebrate the holidays. Now, I have none. No blood relative or legal relative who I could celebrate with. No presents either. Haven’t really received a gift in years really. And as much as I’d like to say that’s fine, it makes me sad. It doesn’t even matter what I get for Christmas, you know. But it’s the fact that I don’t have anyone in my life to want to give me presents because it’s the holidays. When I used to have so many. And I can’t really say it’s because I’m a grown adult. But I do not get presents. Everyone online had their own celebration with their families. Had their own complaints about going home for the holidays. The Christmas Spirit has left my life a long time ago. My life right now is just not meant to have the means to celebrate Christmas. And yes, I am jealous. I am envious of everyone who gets to expect presents during this time of year. Even on birthdays. I don’t have relatives reaching out to me to send me a greeting or anything like that. No relative to want to send me a couple of bucks for my birthday or the holidays. No relative or family to ask me how I am and how am I holding up. I went on my dad’s Facebook and saw that Tito Joey posted a picture of them just a couple of days ago. He hasn’t even tried to reach out to me. Not even to yaya to check on how I am. I wanted so badly to wreak havoc, you know. That triggered me. You talk about my dad but completely ignore my existence. And I did. I just posted a status on that Facebook saying “I’ll see you soon” and tagged my dad’s account. Only visible to the Lopez family. They don’t reach out to me at all. Don’t try to check up on me. And yes, nagpapapansin ako.
This is the first time in a long time that I’m genuinely sad during the holidays. Maybe because I actually see what I’ve lost. And what this year has given me. The heartache I experienced this year. The betrayal. A lot of people hurting me, stoning me, until I no longer want to be cured. I do not want to heal. I want to remain cold and numb. I do not want to get better. I am afraid to build myself up again just to have someone tear me down. I’ve been disrespected long enough.
I thought about everything with Tiger again. I thought about how much he mistreated me. How much he does not deserve any ounce of softness and gentleness from me. He hasn’t lost anything. I’m still here. I still live here. While I feel like I’ve been shred to pieces. While I feel like I’ve been shattered. Why, in anyway, should he gain anything from me? He fucking broke my trust. He broke his promises. He broke my heart. Stepped on me when I confronted. Gaslit me when I confronted. He does not deserve a place in my life at all. Yet, here we are. And I hate it. I hate how unfair this is all to me. I do not want to give him any ounce of myself. I am tired of being there for him. Any change he has made has not created an impact large enough to overshadow everything he did to hurt me. I have not forgotten. I cannot forget. And every night, before I fall asleep, I remember everything. I cannot forget. I am afraid of forgetting. I want to be indifferent towards him. I am so fucking angry.
And I hate that every time I talk about him, I’m being told that I might give in and forgive him or that I probably am assuming the worst of him but they don’t even try hearing ME OUT. The ONLY reason why I even come up to them telling them about it in the first place is because I AM DONE. I never go to people with my problems when they are unresolved. I always try to solve them myself. But if I can’t, that’s when I start talking to other people about it. I never talk to people to get advice on trying to fix it. I TALK TO THEM TO LET IT OUT.
I’m angry. I am hurt. I am hurt. I am hurt. I am angry. I am hurt.
Sama ng loob lang nakukuha ko pag holidays.
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not sure if nobody asked about it yet or i just missed it but anyway
talk dirty to me about Remadora coffee shop AU !!!
WHERE TO FUCKING BEGIN
this is the most chaotic au that started from some crack fic idea and has grown into fully fledged madness mostly with the help of Chaos Commander in Chief @impishtubist
remus is a political theory/philosophy phd student. he’s studying in a coffee shop when he sees Quirky Girl tonks reading in a corner. he goes over to say hi and strikes up a conversation about her gender studies book which, obviously, he is an expert on
tonks is mostly at the coffee shop bc they do an excellent iced oat milk lavender latte, and bc she’s oddly obsessed with the overly-beautiful barista fleur. she’s too beautiful honestly and it seems kind of attention seeking, and she’s sure if she hangs around long enough she can figure out what fleur’s deal is
beautiful french barista fleur moved to the US for art school and is somehow still here. she does not like americans, except for fellow barista regulus, who is as snooty and judgmental as she is. she’s been trying to figure out if the cute girl with short pink hair who always wears plaid is gay or just from the pnw
remus and tonks hit it off over the fact they’re both very passionate about their work, devotees of overpriced hipster coffee shops, pretty judgmental of the other people on campus, and there’s something just a little bit Different about the both of them. they assume their bond means they’re into each other so they start dating
tonks takes remus to a party hosted by her cousin sirius and his best friend james. both of them are in business school but think they’re too smart for it and are launching their own start up
remus hates sirius on sight. he’s rich and loud and arrogant and a capitalist. sirius is pretty judgmental of remus too, but that’s just because he’s straight. remus can’t help himself from getting into arguments with sirius every time they meet, and soon sirius starts actually searching him out bc it’s so much fun and he is pretty hot. and maybe not entirely straight. then definitely not entirely straight from the way he hits on him one night
in the middle of this all is regulus, undergrad student and fresh out of rehab and de-radicalisation after getting swept up in a white supremacist cult as a kid. he watches this drama go down with amused indifference
there’s also lily, junior associate at slughorn llc who’s currently on the look out for new start ups worth investing in. she’s facing an ongoing battle with co-worker snape, determined to outdo her, and relentless start up founder potter, determined to impress her (and get her money)
what follows is a chaotic mix of drunken hookups, sexual crises, ideological arguments, everyone managing to be a judgmental bitchy asshole in completely different ways, a whole bunch of interwoven enemies to lovers, and most importantly, absolutely terrible Straight Remus Lupin
WIP ask game
#there’s so much more buried in discord chats somewhere#it’s gonna be a blast#wolfstar#flonks#jily#otp: i’m mental about you#otp: oi evans#hp#asks
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CEO of sleep!!
#hades supergiant#hypnos hades#HAU GH..#i used to be completely indifferent to him but he's grown on me as soon as i started to draw him#dumb of ass whom i love so much#oops..this is a hades blog now NDJAKWD#it was inevitable! they're all so good
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[CN] S2 Gavin and MC in Chapter 29
🍒 Warning: Detailed spoilers 🍒
My focus is on Gavin x MC interactions, so content relating to the plot will be in bullet-points :>
Official summary of Ch 26 - 29: here
The sample copy of MC’s show gets rejected, and she heads over to the Publicity Office
To her surprise, she meets Leto. This is the first time she’s officially meeting him in this re-lived world, and she feels wary. In order for the show to be broadcasted, she agrees to remove scenes related to the New Year Coup
After the meeting, MC gets a call from the handsome and charming Eli, who asks her to take Gavin out on a date when she’s done with work
[ Notable Scene 1: Rare Eli x MC Moment ]
Grabbing my bag, I leave through the main entrance of the office. After calling for a cab, I rush to the STF. Very soon, Eli appears in my line of sight.
MC: Eli, why...
Eli: We’ll talk inside.
Before I can probe further, he pushes me into the STF, bringing me to the door of Gavin’s office.
Eli makes a show of knocking, but pushes the door open and walks in before getting a response.
Eli: Captain Gavin, it’s time for you to leave work and go on a date.
Gavin: Eli, I’ve said it before. I...
Gavin lifts his head from his messy work desk. When his gaze sweeps past me, the impatience in his eyes instantly turns into surprise. Immediately after, he glares at Eli.
Gavin: Why’d you ask her to come?
The atmosphere in the office doesn’t seem quite right. I purse my lips, observing quietly.
Despite being faced with Gavin’s icy interrogation, Eli remains indifferent.
Eli: I’m asking you to go on a date. It’s time for you to leave work.
Gavin: ...
Gavin takes a deep breath. He places the pen down on the table with a soft thud, then looks at me calmly.
Gavin: Sorry, Eli has caused you trouble. I’m not done with some things, so I’ll ask someone to send you home.
MC: I...
Eli: How many days have you been staying in the office? You’ll never be done with your work.
Hearing this leaves me stunned. Looking at Gavin, I notice the faint ashy green underneath his eyes.
Gavin hasn’t left work for many days?
I’m aware that the STF has been under immense stress lately.
I heard that everything that happened this year would be featured in the Rebuilding Project, including the Hunter Game, a host of abominable cases, along with the progress and conclusion of the investigations.
It’s definitely not a small burden to deal with so many complex and confidential cases.
Eli walks up to him, slamming his hands on the documents.
Eli: Don’t you have any idea what you should be doing right now?
Gavin: What? Aside from not letting me participate in the investigations, you aren’t letting me stay in the office either?
Eli: Am I the one who isn’t letting you do so? Do you know how many people have their eyes on you?
Aware that I'm here, Eli forces a smile onto his face.
Eli: Don't forget about what’s happening now. As well as your position.
Gavin: I don’t need reminders from you.
The words seem to be squeezed out from gritted teeth. Gavin stands up coldly while glaring at Eli, his Adam’s apple bobbing.
Very quickly, he averts his gaze in frustration. Grabbing his coat, he pulls me out of the office.
Gavin: Let’s go, MC.
He’s walking very quickly and taking large strides. The fingertips gripping my wrist are exerting exceptional force.
He seems to be a balloon on the verge of being filled completely. It’s as though a soft breath would be sufficient to cause it to burst.
I don’t say a word, following behind him quietly.
When we step out of the STF and turn into a corner, we meet a somewhat suspicious man.
When that person sees the both of us, he looks panicked. His gaze lands on Gavin. When he sees Gavin holding my hand, a strange smile appears on his face.
Man: My apologies.
Watching his rapidly retreating figure, I feel a chill running down my spine. I turn to Gavin.
His expression is calm, as though he’s grown used to it. He doesn’t even turn back.
However, due to that person’s sudden appearance, Gavin’s halts in his footsteps.
An evening breeze lifts the corners of his shirt gently, and causes his grip to relax.
Gavin: Sorry, MC. Eli didn’t think things through and called you over without telling me.
He lifts the corners of his lips, as though draining himself of all emotions, leaving behind a mask of calmness.
Gavin: I’ll send you home.
This Gavin seems a little unfamiliar to me, and I find myself grabbing his hand.
Aside from our fleeting meeting from before, I’ve rarely seen him. I should ask him about our promise from before, along with the location of CORE.
But when I see him like this, there’s a tightness in my chest.
MC: Where will you go after sending me home?
This question leaves him momentarily stunned. Then, he chuckles in slight self-derision.
Gavin: Home. Where else can I go?
While saying this, he releases a soft chuckle. Pulling on my hand, he prepares to walk forward. However, I stand firmly in place.
Although I feel a little hesitant, I can’t feel at ease when Gavin is behaving like this.
MC: Since I’m already here, let’s hang out.
-
MC has no idea where to take him, and asks if he wants to go anywhere. Gavin says that he wants to visit the newly constructed memorial plaza
There, Gavin muses that the memorial plaza is filled with the people he didn’t manage to save
MC reminds him that he has saved many other people
All of a sudden, an angry young man walks over to Gavin with a glass bottle, and publicly criticises him for neglecting his duties
He also accuses the STF for not caring about ordinary civilians, and for taking their sweet time to investigate the recent spate of events
The young man smashes the bottle on the ground. Gavin doesn’t dodge, and the shards scratch his cheek. Gavin also gets punched :<
Gavin understands why the young man is feeling angry, but advises him not to shatter the peace that Loveland is trying to rebuild
Gavin promises that he will catch the mastermind behind the Radiation Incident and give everyone an explanation
After leaving the plaza, MC and Gavin head to a residential area and rest near the railings:
MC: Gavin, do you ever wish that the world didn’t have Evol?
Gavin: To me, there isn’t much of a difference. With Evol, I’d become an Evol Special Agent. Without Evol, I’d become an ordinary police officer. There is always power in the hands of people. Evol is simply one form of it.
MC suddenly realises that the peace around them is simply a facade.
MC guesses that there have been many attacks in Loveland City that weren’t reported, and Gavin confirms this fact:
MC: ...why is such information being suppressed?
Gavin: It’s to showcase how an “ideal city” should look like. “Hope” can be created. As long as everyone believes in it, hopes for the city to be restored to its original state and for life to continue, this Rebuilding Project can fulfil its purpose. The STF and police force will do their best to handle the rest.
Gavin tells her that as a representative of the STF, every single move he makes is amplified. If he acts recklessly, his actions will impact himself and the STF. Many people are waiting for him to make a mistake
It suddenly occurs to MC just how indescribably heavy Gavin’s responsibilities are
[ Notable Scene 2: Patting the Good Boy ]
I stand up and look at Gavin, who has been suppressing his own emotions from the beginning. Then, I rub his head roughly.
Gavin: ...!
MC: Gavin, go on!
Gavin is momentarily stunned. His eyes widen slightly, as though he’s unable to comprehend everything that has happened.
MC: You’re doing the right thing. But... you’re Gavin.
I look at him sincerely, gripping his hands tightly. I want to convey the words in my heart, as well as the urgency I feel.
MC: I know that saying this sounds very wilful, but Gavin, I’ve always envied you. You’re able to do many things that I lack the courage to do, and persevere in your attitude. You don’t care about any rumours, slander, or gazes and comments. You’re determined in walking towards your goals.
I pat his head gently, wanting him to know that the hard work he has put in all this time is worthy of so much pride.
MC: As long as you believe that it’s right, do it. I don’t have that courage nor the strength. What I can do is to give my all in the area that I’ve chosen. But you’re different.
You won’t stop, and your edges won’t be worn down by this world.
Gavin’s pupils subconsciously constrict along with my words. The world plunges into silence, and all that’s left is the sound of the wind.
Gavin: Actually, I’m afraid. I’m afraid of doing something wrong. And I'm worried that I wouldn’t have the time to salvage the situation.
In the silence, the corners of his lips turn upwards slightly as he grips my hand tightly.
Gavin: But I had forgotten that the moment I’m afraid of failure, I’d definitely fail.
Gavin stands up slowly. The remnants of sunset land on his frame, making him look as if he’s emitting light.
He straightens up. Something that cannot be impeded seems to return to him once again, cleaving apart layers of iron chains around him, enabling his breathing to become liberated.
He leans his head against my forehead gently, releasing a long sigh.
Gavin: Thank you, MC. I know what I should do now.
The next day, MC goes to the STF to assist with investigating an Evolver who had been following MC
After she’s done, she happens to meet Tang Chao, who brings her to the training grounds
MC sees Gavin and Eli engaging in a fight where neither shows the other mercy
In short, Eli wants him to rest but Gavin refuses because he’s stressed about not having enough time left before he disappears
From their conversation, MC learns that Gavin is actually the Commander of the STF! What a plot twist!
Gavin also expresses his outrage towards the recent events and frustration because none of the perpetrators have been caught yet:
Gavin: Everyone in Loveland City is waiting for a conclusion to those abominable incidents! As long as I can catch the masterminds behind them, I’ll be able to give everyone an explanation!
Eli: I've really had enough of your heroic ideology! Who do you think you are? Do you think you can do everything?! Your brothers are investigating too, aren’t they?
Gavin: [screaming] SO WHERE ARE THEY?! It’s been so many days. Where are the people behind the radiation?! What about the murderer who killed Yang Ping and Director Liu?! And who’s responsible for the Evolver assassinations?! Have you guys caught a single person?!
Voiced clip of Gavin’s sexy screaming: here
In EN, Yang Ping’s name is Patrick (S2 Ch 11), while the Director doesn’t have a name
After Gavin’s meltdown, the entire training ground goes silent. Eli tells everyone not to mind what Gavin said in the heat of the moment
After Eli and the others leave, Gavin asks MC for a favour
[ Notable Scene 3: Handcuffs but not kinky ]
I follow Gavin into his home. On my insistence, I tend to Gavin’s wounds.
After everything’s settled, he stands up and hands me a pair of handcuffs that glint with a cold light. A red prohibition logo is engraved on it.
Gavin: I need some time to think things through.
MC: It isn’t enough to simply stay at home?
Gavin: It isn’t enough.
I want to ask how he’d have his meals or how he’d get proper rest.
However, these words are lodged in my throat, and I’m unable to say anything.
I understand that Gavin needs a space where he can have complete quietness.
I look at his hands, which are held mid-air. Then, I look around the incomparably quiet room.
An idea flashes across my mind, and I grip his hands.
MC: Gavin, wait for me!
With this, I rush out, running towards the grocery store.
MC: Hello, does this place sell wind chimes?
Unwilling to give up, I run to several grocery stores in the vicinity. Finally, I manage to buy a tiny wind chime from a souvenir shop.
After running back to his place, I hang it on the windowsill while Gavin watches me.
A gentle spring breeze lifts the little blue bird attached to it, releasing a crisp chime.
MC: Although I won’t be here, it’d talk to you on my behalf whenever the wind blows by. If there’s anything you don’t understand, you can ask it instead.
Gavin: How do I do that?
Gavin looks at the tiny wind chime, chuckling softly.
MC: Let me think... Give the little blue bird a poke, then say, “MC, can I do this?” If the wind chime rings twice, it means yes. If the wind chime rings once, it means no. Got it?
Seeing him nod in a rare, relaxed manner, my heart feels a little more at ease. I rub the handcuffs, which have grown slightly warm from my touch.
MC: Gavin, you have to remember this. No matter when it is, I’ll be willing to appear before you as long as you need it. You’re definitely not alone in your hard work.
Gavin: I know.
His amber eyes are filled with a smile, and he gives me a relaxed smile.
MC: Remember to apologise to Eli and the others too.
Gavin: I will.
-
He closes his eyes and sits on the floor for an entire day and night.
The world becomes clear and transparent. The soft tinkling of the wind chime becomes the only sound in this room.
He seems to become part of the almost imperceptible spring breeze.
Clouds surround him, and the entire city is beneath his feet.
He blinks. A sense of freedom that he’s never experienced before seems to fill his chest completely, making his body feel light.
It’s as though he can go anywhere.
“Ding...”
All of a sudden, he hears the crisp sound of the wind chime.
Gavin opens his eyes immediately. He takes in large gulps of air, realising that he’s still sitting on the living room floor.
The pair of handcuffs that were cuffed on by the girl are on the ground.
He lifts his hands blankly, looking at his body which is growing fainter and fainter.
If the wind chime hadn't made a sound earlier, would he have vanished?
Even though his body has been drained of energy, it still struggles, unwilling to accept defeat.
Gavin curls his fingers, exerting his strength to grip something. However, his hand is unable to grab anything.
It isn’t time for him to disappear yet.
He seems to have lost his sense of touch. He stands up slowly, imagining how it feels to walk. Gritting his teeth, he walks over to the hanging wind chime.
His almost transparent fingertips pass through the little blue bird again and again. Even so, he continues reaching out, unwilling to give up.
As though he’s reaching out to her countless times.
Gavin: MC, give me a little more time.
While his almost transparent fingertips melt in the air, they land on the little blue bird, causing the wind chime to sway gently.
“Ding... Ding...”
Just then, warmth gradually flows into his body. It feels as if she’s truly holding him in her hands.
Gavin forgets to breathe. He remains in place, staring at the swaying wind chime in a daze.
All of the pent up doubts and confusion in his heart suddenly clear up.
He has to stake it all.
The only thing he can do is grab hold of the present. What he can do is make those who have committed crimes receive their due punishment.
Countless clues surface before his eyes. Previously unrelated words gather together, gradually becoming clearer.
As though responding to his heart, a breeze passes by quietly, once again tapping on the wind chime.
One time. Two times. Three times. Four times. Gavin smiles faintly.
Something occurs to him. He puts on a coat, grabs a pen, and sits by the window.
He recalls that she doesn’t like people don’t say goodbye.
Maybe he should say something to her.
Gavin lifts his head slightly, staring at the faraway sky.
Time seems to stagnate. In a trance, the version of himself from seven years ago seems to overlap with his current self.
How should I convey these complicated yet simple emotions to you through the pen?
If I’m unable to return to your side.
Gavin ponders over this while the floating clouds gather and scatter.
After a very long time, he finally lowers his head and lifts the pen.
-
Gavin folds the letter, putting it into his pocket. He stares at the handcuffs which on the ground. Then, he presses a series of numbers on his phone.
Gavin: Eli, I’ve been handcuffed. Come over and help me.
Eli: Whoever handcuffed you should go. What does that have to do with me?
“Du... du... du...” The dial tone sounds on the other end of the line. Gavin isn’t in a rush. He gets up to open the door. Leaning against the balcony, he closes his eyes.
Not long after, a set of hurried footsteps appear at the door. The door is pushed open, and Eli walks in.
He glances at the handcuffs on the ground quietly. When he sees Gavin sitting at the side, he chuckles in resignation.
As his laughter grows louder and louder, even Gavin starts laughing along with him.
Neither of them speak, but they seem to understand everything.
Gavin: Eli, I have a plan that I need to talk to you about.
[ Notable Scene 4: The Letter™ ]
Gray Rhino informs MC that someone claimed that he’d be destroying CORE at the memorial plaza that night
When she leaves the office, she finds Gavin standing outside:
MC: What are you doing here?
Gavin: I was thinking about something earlier, and you came down right after I was done.
Moonlight falls on his frame quietly, exuding a tender aura.
He lowers his eyes slightly. Lifting his hand, he retrieves a sealed envelope from the pocket of his coat.
Gavin: I missed the chance to do this before, so I’m handing it to you personally now.
I look at the envelope blankly. A pause button seems to be pressed on the world, and the surroundings are incomparably quiet.
With a delayed reaction, I reach out.
I’ve imagined its weight countless times, but it has never occurred to me that I’d actually get to hold it.
It’s so light.
Lifting my head in a daze, I realise that Gavin has been waiting for me with a gaze filled with a smile.
MC: Why...
Gavin: Open it tomorrow. I’ll tell you the reason why.
I bring it to my chest carefully, feeling my heart tightening. I give Gavin a forceful nod.
For some reason, a strange thought appears in my mind.
MC: Gavin, I heard that someone found CORE and will be destroying it in the memorial square.
Gavin: It looks like news travels pretty quickly.
Gavin reveals that he was the one who spread the information and would be breaking “CORE” in order to lure people out and catch them
MC and those from Gray Rhino hide in a dark corner of the memorial plaza, watching a confrontation between Gavin and Dionysus. In order to prevent CORE from ending up in the hands of BS, Gray Rhino decides to attack. The venue erupts into chaos, and MC assists Gavin secretly.
MC realises that Gavin is also fighting against people from NW, and that he seems to be waiting for a certain opportunity. Finally, there’s a signal flash from afar. Gavin suddenly cleaves the box containing “CORE” into two. At the same time, the entire venue is surrounded by STF agents
Eli pretends to arrest MC and brings her to a different police car than the others who were arrested
After a short while, someone sits beside her
[ Notable Scene 5: Pain ]
Although he tries to control his frantic breathing, his exceptionally icy fingertips betray him.
MC: Gavin, how are you? Are you okay?
Gavin: I’m fine, I know my limits.
MC: ...you better know your limits.
Eli burrows into the car soon after, sitting on the driver’s seat.
Eli: We caught more than a hundred people from various places. There are even some from NW! There are definitely enough people to interrogate. We should have caught some small fries from that group!
MC realises how risky this plan was
She also notices how Eli and Gavin are smiling at each other, and feels comforted that they’ve made up :’>
Due to the intense fights from earlier, Gavin seems to be extremely tired. He leans against the car window, and appears to have fallen asleep.
Very soon, the car arrives at my place. Seeing his fatigued side profile brings me a sense of heartache, and I brush the hairs in front of his eyes gently.
Just as I’m about to leave quietly, someone pulls on my arm.
Gavin opens his eyes slowly. He glances at me calmly, then looks at Eli from the rearview mirror.
Gavin: Eli, buy me a bottle of water.
MC: I have water at home. Why don’t you go upstairs with me?
Gavin: It’s okay. I’m a little tired. Just sit here for a while.
The door to the driver’s seat closes. In the blink of an eye, Eli disappears into the night.
Fragments of light and shadows land in Gavin’s eyes. He inhales deeply. He grits his teeth, as though he’s holding something back.
He pushes my outstretched arm away, straightening himself up before exhaling.
Gavin: MC, do you still... dislike people who don’t say goodbye?
I’m taken aback momentarily, not understanding why he’d suddenly ask this question. A sense of unease coils around my heart like vines.
MC: Why are you asking about this?
Gavin: I just don’t want to become someone you dislike, so... I wanted to confirm it again.
He gives me a faint, sincere smile, giving the impression that this is genuinely an ordinary verification.
MC: ...I do dislike them.
Gavin chuckles softly. The light from a speeding car passes by, seeming to illuminate him.
Gavin: I...
He opens his mouth slowly, as though wanting to say something. However, he suddenly pauses.
Gavin’s eyes widen slightly, and he looks directly at me. His lips quiver a little, but no words come out.
He tries a number of times. Images seem to flash past his eyes, causing his lips to tremble. In the end, they form a silent and flat line.
MC: Gavin? Is there something you want to tell me?
Gavin blinks sluggishly during my question. He reaches out very slowly, brushing my face with his fingertips.
This touch is so light that it seems to be a misperception.
Gavin: That letter I gave to you this evening - there’s no need to read it.
The tips of his fingers brim with deep affection as they brush my face. They are slightly coarse, but conceal within them a certain reluctance to part.
I can’t help but feel that something’s not quite right with the Gavin in front of me. However, I’m unable to figure out the reason. I find myself reaching out to grab him.
MC: Gavin, could I go to the hospital with you? Or could you give me a call once you’re done with the interrogations? I’m worried about you.
In those gentle amber eyes, I see a tiny version of myself that seems to be fixed in them.
Gavin: Goodnight, MC.
This is the last thing that Gavin says to me.
-
Eli drives steadily. The blinking green light turns red, causing him to yawn loudly.
Eli: It’s a pity... didn’t manage to get... Joker. That lad... keeps his composure.
Gavin is so tired that he isn’t able to open his eyes. Those words become more and more hazy.
The glaring colour of red is reflected in his eyes, and the halo grows smaller and smaller.
The world is enveloped in a black web, and the black tides on the edges make their slow attack.
Again and again, they seep into his eyes.
In the boundless darkness, there’s a tiny speck of light. It’s reminiscent of a beating heart as it surges.
He sees the girl’s face.
He hears her saying, “Gavin, I’m worried about you.”
He thought he wouldn’t become a person she disliked. He thought he’d say his parting words, and say goodbye to her.
But he wasn’t able to speak.
He didn’t want to say goodbye to her.
When he was facing her, all of his mental preparation collapsed so easily.
If only he didn’t write that letter to you.
He hopes you wouldn’t open it.
The black tide flows over the roof of his head. In the silence, Gavin ponders over this.
In the remnants of his vision, he sees Eli’s panicked expression.
Don’t forget about what we talked about before.
Gavin: You must... bring all the criminals to justice.
The backseat of the car is completely empty, as though nobody was ever there.
[ Notable Scene 6: More Pain ]
I’m tossing and turning restlessly in bed, unable to sleep soundly.
The sky has just started to brighten. Feeling troubled, I climb out of bed and pick up the envelope that Gavin had given to me.
Although he told me not to open it, the final expression that Gavin had is the only thing in my mind.
Carefully, I tear the envelope open. There’s a folded letter inside.
MC,
At 9am tomorrow, I’ll be waiting for you in the school library.
Gavin.
[Trivia] In Season 1, this was what Gavin wrote in his letter: “At 9am on Saturday, I’ll be waiting for you in the school library.”
I seem to forget how to breathe. All I can do is rub the clean handwriting on the letter again and again, feeling an inexplicably faint, stinging sensation in my eyes.
When I lift my head to look at the clock, I quickly get up.
At 8.50am, I inform the teacher that I’m here for filming purposes, and step into the library.
Along with my footsteps, an almost imperceptible gust of wind brushes my face gently, reminiscent of a sigh.
Since it’s the weekend, the library is completely silent. A faint scent of ink wafts in the air, and dust floats leisurely in the light. This image isn’t different from the one in my memories.
I pull out a chair and sit near the window. Clouds are drifting outside.
Will he come?
Despite having such a thought, I have a feeling that Gavin will definitely come.
I open the window, leaning against the windowsill and staring at the faraway horizon.
The refreshing spring breeze brushes my face, making me feel unusually cheerful.
What was in the letter that Gavin wrote to me a very long time ago?
He mentioned that he left earlier than the arranged time. Did he wait for me just as I’m doing now?
Back then, what went through his mind?
Resting my chin on my palm, I don’t feel a single bit of impatience. I simply wait quietly.
I think about how he looked like when he was waiting - a faint smile on his lips, his hair being lifted up whenever the wind blew past.
I think about every little thing that happened in our story.
Gavin asked me to come here. What’s he going to say?
I continue to ponder over these things. Occasionally, a gentle breeze lands on the back of my hand and the side of my face, as though telling me that I’m not alone.
Time flows by quietly, tugging the sun to the other end of the horizon. Without realising it, gentle moonlight seeps in.
And I receive no news on my phone.
My head droops. Did I really misunderstand things?
When he said that he didn’t want me to read the letter, did it mean that he wasn’t coming today?
But... if I wait a little longer, would Gavin appear?
Slowly, a sky full of stars hangs in the night. With my head lowered, I stand up.
Perhaps Gavin had cancelled this meeting in his own way, and I was hopeful for nothing.
My vision feels a little blurry. Taking a deep breath, I shut the window.
The moment I push in the chair and turn towards the entrance, a breeze from an unknown place whizzes over. It surges to me, enveloping me fully in the wind.
Just like an embrace.
MC: ...Gavin?
I’m stunned momentarily, blurting out his name.
Teacher: MC, you haven’t left?
The doors are suddenly pushed open. The lights in the library are turned on abruptly, causing me to squint instinctively.
The faint breeze brushes my cheek. It’s gentle, bringing with it a familiar scent.
And then, it disappears quietly.
I stare at the completely empty room. It’s as though that breeze was never here.
[Note] I AM SCREAMING INTERNALLY AND MY EYES ARE WATERING because I’m convinced that Gavin was actually there in the library with her from the start, just transparent and possibly naked (his clothes shouldn’t disappear). And when MC said that Gavin had cancelled the meeting in his own way, he was actually meeting her in his own way T-T
The chapter ends in a sealed laboratory in NW
Xiao Yue asks if Gavin really destroyed the CORE
Apparently, Gavin is somewhat transparent now but his abs are still very opaque as we can see below:
Gavin: If you want to know, remember not to let me die. Otherwise, nobody will know this secret.
Xiao Yue: Begin the experiment.
As unknown substances are channelled through many catheters and into the medical cabin, the line on the electrocardiogram jolts rapidly -
Finally, it becomes a straight line.
Call and Moments: here
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Spilled Pearls Extra 1
- ao3 -
Lan Xichen spent a lot of time learning his family’s rules.
They were important to his uncle, who raised him, and that meant that they were important to him. They were his heritage and his birthright, and anyway he loved his uncle and it made him happy which was good enough for Lan Xichen, but that didn’t make learning them easy or anything. Each rule had to be learned both by itself and in context with others; it wasn’t as simple as memorizing a list and calling it done. You had to learn them and know them and then live up to them to the best of your ability, and that was the work of a lifetime – which Lan Xichen, now six years old, had been informed was an awful long time.
Moreover, though his uncle had never said so, Lan Xichen had heard from the other people in the sect that learning the rules was important because following the rules would make sure he didn’t turn out like his father, who had let down so many people in their sect. Many of the elders said things like that when his uncle wasn’t around, though his uncle never did – his uncle spoke well of their father, although in abstract tones, but sometimes he looked sad about it, too, and therefore Lan Xichen was determined to listen and learn the rules well so that he would never disappoint his uncle the way his father had.
Of course, there were other advantages to learning the rules.
The commentary, for instance.
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1
Talking behind other people's backs is prohibited.
“Unless it’s really funny,” Lan Yueheng said, and – as always – seemed not to notice the way Lan Xichen’s uncle glared at him. “Oooh, actually, let me give you an example, I just heard the best story –”
-
“If you don’t understand those around you, you will be at their mercy, rather than they at yours,” Wen Ruohan said, perfectly poised and with a sharp smirk, just the way he always was unless he happened to be talking to Lan Xichen’s uncle. “How better to learn to understand people than to know what others say about them when they are not around?” His smirk widened. “Look at what people say about me.”
-
“What are you supposed to do if you don’t?” Lao Nie asked, grinning wickedly. “Say mean things about them in front of their faces instead? I can do that!”
-
“I mean, if it’s news, it’s not gossip, right?” Cangse Sanren said, tapping her cheek while pretending to be thoughtful as if it would hide her great big smile. “I’m sure that’s how I learned it, and I was a very good student – no, no, don’t listen to what your uncle says!”
-
“Well, I wish my mother would do less of it,” Wen Xu said, rolling his eyes. He’d come along to visit with his father again the way he always did – he was always tagging along with his father, really, and his father indulged him more often than he probably should, according to both sects’ elders. Not that Wen Ruohan listened to anyone but Lan Xichen’s uncle. “Sometimes I think that’s all she does! It’s boring!”
-
“If you mean what you say and say what you mean, then your friends will never doubt you whether you are in front of them or not,” Nie Mingjue said, then frowned. “I mean, I think?”
-
“Listen to A-Jue,” Lan Xichen’s uncle said when Lan Xichen reported on the discussions, throwing up his hands in disgust. “He’s the only one of the lot of them worth anything.”
“It’s his mother’s contribution,” Lao Nie opined.
“It’s certainly not yours,” Wen Ruohan said. “Anyway, what was wrong with A-Xu’s answer? It was accurate.”
“It has nothing to do with the rule!”
“That’s because I’ve already mastered it years ago,” Wen Xu said cheerfully. Surprisingly cheerfully, given that Nie Mingjue was sitting on him again; maybe he’d gotten used to Nie Mingjue always winning.
Lan Xichen’s uncle rubbed his forehead. “A-Xu, if you really want to go copy the rules on humility a few more times, you don’t have to wait for me to instruct you to do so –”
“He’s right, though,” Cangse Sanren cackled from her husband’s lap. “Madame Wen is an amazing source of gossip, but it does get a bit boring sometimes. You can’t punish him for being right!”
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2
Do not succumb to rage.
“Unless there’s a very good reason,” Lao Nie said, picking Lan Xichen up in one arm as if he weighed as little as a feather, and Nie Mingjue in the other just as easily, even though he was much bigger. “In the world there are many injustices, and it is your duty to fight against them with everything that you have – if you are wholly above the feeling of rage, then you have forgotten your empathy, and soon will follow the crooked path into indifference.”
-
“The issue is succumbing to rage,” Wen Ruohan said. “You can be angry, or even furious, but you should always maintain your self-control. Once you’ve mastered yourself, you can master others.”
-
“He means get revenge,” Wen Xu said knowledgably. “You get angry, then you get even.”
-
“Oh, rage?” Cangse Sanren asked, rolling up her sleeves. “Well, as it happens, I’m going to go have a chat with your mother, I’ll give you a good demonstration of –”
“You are doing no such thing,” Lan Xichen’s uncle said, exasperated. “Get back here.”
-
“It’s a waste of time,” Lan Yueheng said. “Getting angry takes time and energy. Why not be happy instead?” He thought about it. “Well, I mean, sometimes cursing a little bit when something goes wrong is nice. Even the calmest concoction needs to blow off steam sometimes to retain its equilibrium!”
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
3
Do not disrespect your elders.
“And I,” Wen Ruohan said, looking positively gleeful, “am the eldest.”
“Don’t listen to him,” Lan Xichen’s uncle said at once. “Xichen, you hear me? Don’t listen to him.”
-
“There’s a difference between disrespect and disobedience,” Cangse Sanren said. “Being old doesn’t mean being right, it means that there’s a greater probability that they’ve encountered something in their lifetime that will give them an insight you lack. You should honor and respect their insight, but always make your own decisions in the end.”
-
“I mean, you could always listen to me, instead,” Lao Nie said. “I’m your elder too, aren’t I?”
-
“Don’t listen to either Uncle Wen or my father,” Nie Mingjue said, looking long-suffering. “They both like to play tricks.”
-
“Wait,” Lan Yueheng said. “I’m an elder? Since when? That’s a terrible idea!”
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4
Do not take advantage of your position to oppress others.
“Don’t listen to Wen Ruohan,” Cangse Sanren said.
-
“Don’t listen to Sect Leader Wen,” Lan Yueheng said.
-
“Definitely do not listen to Hanhan,” Lao Nie said. “At all. In any way.”
-
“Probably best not to listen to A-Xu’s dad,” Nie Mingjue said, and glanced over apologetically.
“No, no, you’re right,” Wen Xu said, nodding furiously. “He’s kind of awful about these sorts of things.”
-
“They’re all being absolutely ridiculous,” Wen Ruohan said. “I’m perfectly reliable on such matters. After all, what’s the point of working so hard to obtain and maintain power if you don’t oppress those that deserve it? If you don’t take advantage, who will?”
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
5
Do not make assumptions about others.
“I used to assume that Cangse Sanren was a normal human being,” Lan Yueheng said. “Goes to show what I know, right?”
-
“I used to assume that Wen Ruohan was a perfectly normal self-absorbed murderer that would keep his greedy hands to his own people,” Cangse Sanren said, sounding irritable. “And not have perfectly ordinary rogue cultivators followed around by complete weirdos because he’s secretly worried about them like a mother hen!”
-
“I used to assume that people would be grateful when someone rescued them and their husband from near certain death,” Wen Ruohan said.
-
“I used to assume that the funniest thing in the world was watching Hanhan argue with your uncle,” Lao Nie said, chin on his hands. “Little did I know that adding Cangse Sanren to the mix made it even funnier.”
-
“Grown-ups are stupid sometimes,” Wen Xu said. “That’s why you have to verify everything they say for yourself.”
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
6
Embrace the entirety of the world.
“By being righteous,” Nie Mingjue said.
-
“By taking it all over, as far as I can tell from my father,” Wen Xu said.
-
“Depends on what you define as the world, doesn’t it?” Lao Nie said.
-
“Be ambitious,” Wen Ruohan said. “Define it broadly.”
-
“I mean, I don’t think your arms are quite long enough yet, the world’s pretty big,” Lan Yueheng said. “But I pick you up and swing you around, maybe they’ll stretch a little. Want to try?”
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7
Do not associate with evil.
“I mean, it’s true, but you have to think carefully about what you categorize as evil,” Lao Nie said. “Just being a man-eating nation-destroying inhuman amoral nine-tailed fox isn’t automatically enough to qualify, right?”
-
“That’s, uh, a really weirdly specific example,” Lan Yueheng said. “I feel like at least three of the things on that list probably rise to the level of evil? Or have I missed something?”
-
“Lao Nie said – oh no, not again,” Wen Ruohan said, and patted Lan Xichen on the head before he stalked out the door. “I’m the only evil you should associate with, you hear me?”
-
“I bet she’s got teeth in interesting places,” Cangse Sanren said. “I’ve got to meet her…hmm? Evil? Does that really matter? It’s going to be funny.”
-
“She’s not evil,” Nie Mingjue said. “She’s pretty nice, actually. She calls me ‘meatball’ and ‘pork bun’ and says I’m so cute that she wants to eat me right up.”
-
“I’m pretty sure she means it literally,” Wen Xu said. “Gear up, Xichen! We’ve got to go save Mingjue!”
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8
Do not tell lies.
“People don’t believe the truth, so why not tell it?” Cangse Sanren said.
-
“Using the truth makes your misdirections more believable and your critiques more devastating,” Wen Ruohan said.
-
“Why would you even want to lie?” Nie Mingjue asked, puzzled.
-
“There’s a difference between not telling lies and not having the slightest bit of tact,” Lao Nie said, rubbing his face. “Maybe you can help A-Jue figure that out.”
-
“Silence is always a good alternative when you don’t want to admit to stuff you’ve done that maybe, just maybe, might annoy some people,” Lan Yueheng said, looking over his collapsed laboratory with a wince. “Not that I’d know anything about that, of course.”
-
“Telling a lie will only get you into more trouble later when they figure it out,” Wen Xu said. “Because then they’re angry at you for what you did and for lying about it. It’s just not worth it!”
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9
Do not disregard the rules.
“Unless they’re really stupid,” Lao Nie said.
-
“I mean,” Nie Mingjue said, wrinkling his nose. “As a general rule, yes. But it’s different if following the rules would permit injustice to happen, that’s for sure.”
-
“It’s a matter of picking what rule is the relevant one,” Wen Ruohan said. “Be thoughtful, and you can have the moral high ground in any situation…your uncle is irritatingly good at that.”
-
“You’ve got to know what the rule is before you break it,” Wen Xu said. “That way you can decide if it’s worth the cost of breaking it or not.”
-
“If there’s any you think are wrong, you should say something,” Lan Yueheng said. “The rules are a gift handed down from our ancestors and ought to be respected, but each of us has a duty to put in our own thoughts as well – our contribution to the next generation down. Anyway, your uncle will probably be able to put together a reasonable argument as to why changing the rule is appropriate and truer to our sect’s principles than the version carved on the wall. He’s good at that!”
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10
“I want the rules to be a foundation under your feet,” Lan Xichen’s uncle said. “They should give you confidence in your actions and pride in your family and sect; they should not feel like they are binding you. If they are, you’d tell me, wouldn’t you?”
Maybe if it was just Lan Xichen and his uncle, the two of them and maybe also little baby Lan Wangji and the rather unreliable Lan Yueheng and the even more unreliable Lao Nie, Lan Xichen would immediately and unhesitatingly agree, and then never say anything anyway no matter what he felt. He loved his uncle so much, and every one in a while his uncle seemed so sad; he couldn’t bear to be the one to add more pain and burden to his uncle’s shoulders, already weighed down with the expectations of the sect that should have been his father’s responsibility and would one day be Lan Xichen’s.
But it wasn’t just them, and Lan Xichen frowned a little, really thinking about it. “Maybe,” he said after a while. “Or maybe I’d tell Uncle Wen about it, and then he’d find a way to fix it, or to tell you about it in a way that didn’t make you sad. Does that work, too?”
His uncle looked amused.
“Yes,” he said. “That works. Just remember –”
“Don’t listen to him about ‘oppressing others’?”
“Exactly.”
#mdzs#lan xichen#lan quiren#wen ruohan#sect leader nie#nie mingjue#wen xu#cangse sanren#my fic#my fics#spilled pearls
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Soo, I recently logged in into my old Tumblr account, @hejer-maomao, and lo and behold, I found that my poorly-written and extremely short Solo Leveling HCs have reached over 600 notes with more than a few asks wanting to read more.
So, I yielded! (✿´‿`) I sat down for two days and finally finished reading Season 2 of Solo Leveling webtoon (I was initially going to wait for it to finish up to binge it T___T) and I’m now back with fresh content to please everyone!
Contains subtle hints to happenings from SL Second Season. It also gets a bit steamy at the end, so be careful~
Sung Jin-Woo as a Boyfriend HCs (Part 2): Dating Jin-Woo as an S-Rank Hunter:
As the world slowly began to fall into chaos and turmoil with hundreds of gates manifesting daily all around the globe, your country finally decided to pool in all of its resources into collaborating with South Korea’s hunter; Sung Jin-Woo.
The plan was quite simple. Your home country would send in its best S-rank hunter; you, to help speed up the clearance of some of the most difficult gates which spread in Korea in return for a promise of help from Jin-Woo if an S-rank gate were to appear in your native lands.
The fact that the governmental officials chose to send you, their best hunter and the sole asset they struggled for a long time to keep hidden, just to be able to form such a thin connection with Sung Jin-Woo testified to how terrifyingly strong the Korean hunter was.
Once you arrived in Korea, the press awaiting at the airport were too shocked to even move at the sheer amount of bodyguards by your side. While it was a known fact that your abilities were of a non-combatant hunter, the details of your powers were kept under tight wraps. As such, you couldn’t accept interviews nor remain exposed in public for too long without proper protection. Without even sparing the countless journalists desperately fighting to catch a glimpse of your face a glance, you immediately disappeared into a black car prepared for you beforehand before being escorted to the Korean Hunters Association headquarters.
Not even a second ticked by after you placed the tip of your high heel past the building’s entrance, when a suffocating presence enveloped your senses. Your blood boiled within your veins and you could feel goosebumps slowly forming on your arms. Your nearest bodyguard called your name in worry, but you could only concentrate on the intense magic waves slowly getting closer to you, shamelessly demanding your utter and complete submission.
“Hunter Sung Jin-Woo,” Your manager’s worried voice echoed as the demonic presence finally entered the room. “I will have to ask you to tone your magic down. Our hunter is extremely sensitive when it comes to mana, and the slightest amount of exposure to it will bring her powers to the surface.”
You clenched your teeth and dug your nails into your palms, drawing tiny droplets of blood. You raised you head, your eyes already transforming into pools of crimson and fire. In front of you, you could see Jin-Woo’s initially indifferent eyes slowly widen in surprise.
“A Banshee.” Jin-Woo’s voice carried a hint of curiosity as his lips curved in a smirk. “Yes,” you calmly responded as your transformation now enabled you to withstand his powerful presence. You both locked eyes, intense magic waves radiating off of your bodies as you acknowledged each other’s unique strength.
“When your government proposed this deal with us, I knew they were hiding a pretty powerful trump card,” President Go Gun-Hee finally spoke, breaking the silence. “But for you to turn out to be a Banshee! I might say, this is a pleasant surprise!”
You inwardly breathed a sigh of relief as Sung Jin-Woo nodded in agreement. Your country desperately needed this collaboration to work, especially considering Jin-Woo’s world wide fame. The possibility of Jin-Woo rejecting to even try and work with you was too high but your country decided to gamble on his interest in your precognitive abilities as a Banshee to make the deal work.
Working side to side by Jin-Woo was a challenge, to say the least. The man already possessed everything and needed no one by his side as support. Even the most powerful S-rank hunters could be labeled as utterly useless compared to him.
Once you finished clearing your third joint gate together, you mentally patted yourself. Thank God I’m a Banshee, or else I would have only been a dead weight to him.
With your accurate vision into the future, Jin-Woo’s abilities soared to another level, enabling him to finish clearing A-rank gates in under fifteen minutes. After all, no gate’s interior structure was too complicated for you, nor was the abilities of any of the monsters residing inside hidden to your eyes. The first time both of you emerged from a gate, barely ten minutes after you entered, the journalists waiting outside were stupefied. You remember grinning widely at their expressions, spontaneously turning to catch Jin-Woo looking fondly at you, before turning away with a deep blush once you locked eyes.
Your heart did not stop racing that night even after you parted ways with Jin-Woo and headed to your own hotel.
The first kiss you shared happened a week before your due return to your country. Sung Jin-Woo’s mood has been gloomy ever since you received the notice to return home.
You have grown closer in the past few weeks that you spent by his side. He has been your trustworthy shield in every single gate you entered to the point you stopped taking any of your A-rank bodyguards with you despite your manager’s disproval. Jin-Woo has been so gentle with you, making sure he constantly has one arm wrapped around your waist in case of any monster attacking you while you used your powers. Due to his protection, you have failed to sustain even the smallest scratch even though the gates you raided daily were too dangerous for hunters below S-rank.
You shared meals together, stole each other’s desserts and made fun of one another. Jin-Woo even made it a habit or him to escort you to your hotel after your work is done, softly pat your head before disappearing within his dark shadows.
By then, you were fully aware of the love that fully bloomed within your heart but you refused to mutter a word to Jin-Woo. You were simply terrified. Terrified that those eyes that looked at you gently and were filled with tenderness will turn cold at your confession. But one night was enough to completely change your mind.
After escorting you to your hotel room, an unusually sullen Jin-Woo merely nodded at you and turned around to leave without even patting your head. Your heart was torn apart at the thought of him leaving you at that state, so you quickly extended your hand, intending to catch his sleeve to stop him. But your field of vision was quickly filled with Jin-Woo’s handsome face, his fragrance filling your senses as you found yourself pinned against the hallway wall. You blinked in confusion and stared at Jin-Woo, but the man you loved did not speak and simply tightened his hold on your wrists.
You tried to move your hands but they refused to even budge under Jin-Woo possessive hold. “Jin-Woo,” you softly whispered, your heart aching more at the sadness filling his eyes.
“...Don’t leave. Stay by my side.”
Your eyes widened at the soft words spoken beside your ear. You trembled as Jin-Woo nosed at your neck, breathing in your familiar scent. His lips soon touched the heated skin of your throat, alternating between gently pecks and warm licks. You whimpered at his hungry touch. Your legs were growing weak with each peck he left on your throat and almost gave in when he exposed his teeth and bit down, a low growl in tow.
“Jin-Woo,” you whispered again and again before he finally lifted his head towards you. His eyes were glistening with desire and his lips were slightly reddish, making him even more irresistible to you.
“Kiss me,” is what you ended up saying instead of telling him to stop. In a heartbeat, Jin-Woo’s lips were on your own, warm and starving for your taste.
You had so many issues to solve ahead, but at that moment, you chose to leave all of the burdens on your shoulders fall and only focus on the man standing in front of you.
Everything else can come second to him.
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A Dragon’s Bride
Dragon Prince! Bakugo Katsuki x Fem! Fae Princess! Reader
Fanstasy AU
***18+ Fic***
If you are not 18 years old, you are not old enough to ride. Please exit the line and find another. Thank you and have a good day.
Warnings: Arranged marriage, smut, soft to rough sex, light fluff. Characters are aged up, Bakugo and reader are the same age.
Word Count: 4.7k
Author’s Note: So I had this idea after reading other fantasy AU fics, and I just really wanted a soft Bakugo. I know he’s an angry moody mf but idgaf aight? I didn’t wanna get super descriptive with the smut, just cause I wanted it to be more like ‘lovemaking’ than just sex, you feel me? Sorry if the pace is a little weird, I didn’t spend a whole lot of time on this lmao. Anyway, here’s dragon boi Bakubitch.
Enjoy the read~
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As the youngest daughter of the Fae King and Queen, you knew it was only a matter of time before you were put in an arranged marriage. Your eldest brother had taken his Fae wife and would ascend to the throne in due time, and your older sister had already been married off to the Elven Prince Shouto.
Despite knowing you’d need to marry for political ties, you hadn’t expected to be sent off quite so soon. Your 19th birthday had passed only a few days ago, and that was when the news was broken to you. You were to be married to the Dragon Prince Katsuki Bakugo, soon to be the Dragon King, for his parents had expressed their wish to step down as royals rather early for Dragons of their age.
The journey was rather long, even as you flew with your guards in a beeline to the lands of the Dragons. Throughout the weeklong trip your nerves were building and the mild fear settled into your bones. The Dragon Prince was infamous for his temper and short fuse, his anger always taken out specifically on Izuku Midoriya, the Fairy Prince from his childhood. Your kingdom had not tied itself with the Dragons in centuries, and this alliance meant the Fae’s history of stubborn seclusion and independence would begin to diminish. This was a mission you could not afford to fail.
The final night camping was the worst. Sleep seemed to fear you, and you tossed and turned, attempting to settle your nerves. But it was to no avail. The sky began to lighten into a dull gray, signaling the coming morning. The guard came to wake you up, and soon you were bathed and back in the sky. Not having slept was of no concern, you’d gone days without sleep before and were just fine.
By midday you’d reached the edge of the Dragon kingdom, and were landing in front of the mountain castle just before sundown. The castle was gorgeous on its own, the face of it being the only exposed piece of the structure with the rest of the castle buried inside the mountain itself. The entrance was large, a platform that no doubt acted as a landing pad for the royal Dragons. Warm light poured from the large arched doorway as the huge stone doors opened as you approached.
You were greeted by the King, Queen, and the Prince himself. You sank before them in a low curtsy, pitch black wings spread out and flattened to your sides in a display of reverence. The King and Queen themselves bowed their heads toward you as a sign of respect, and when the Prince looked away indifferently, the Queen forced the boy down into a bow by grabbing his head and shoving it down, leaving you shocked.
You were of lower rank than he, so there was no reason for him to bow his head to you. Noticing your confused state, the Dragon Queen spoke. “Rank is of little concern here, child. My son must learn a grain of respect if he is to be King.” With a small smile, you nod in understanding, too afraid to speak. Your nerves were bound to come through in your voice, and you refused to show signs of weakness in front of Dragons powerful as they.
Tonight was one of rest, and there were rooms for your royal guards to rest for the night before they had to make the journey back to Fae land. The Queen insisted you call upon a maid should you need anything, and personally escorted you to your room. Once alone, you took the time to bathe. A warm indoor spring was not something you were used to. Waterfalls were the bathing pools of choice in the Fae kingdom, though the warm water was welcome after your long journey. Soon you were in a nightgown and fast asleep in a warm bed of furs.
The next morning a maid came to wake you, and you were dressed by several handmaidens. The gown you wore was simple. A soft grey, long and flowing, with the fabric bunched at your shoulders in a sleeveless style and a low-cut back to accommodate your wings. You were escorted to the dining room, and you took the time to memorize parts of the castle.
The table itself was shorter than you expected, with only three seats on the longer sides and the usual single seats on the ends, already occupied by the King and Queen. Prince Katsuki sat to his mother’s right, and you were led to sit on her left, directly across from him. For the first time, you got a good look at the boy.
Unruly ash blonde hair framed his face, which was chiseled and defined. His deep red eyes seemed to burn and glow like embers, and you had to look away from the intensity of his gaze on you. Your eyes were drawn to the exposed skin of his arms and collarbones, the muscles rippling underneath. You’d be lying to say he wasn’t incredibly handsome.
Through breakfast the Queen asked about your kingdom and its customs, and personal questions on how you felt about this alliance. You gave simple answers, having been trained to respond to such questions. She then walked you through the day, explaining how you’d be spending a lot of time with Katsuki not only for today, but all the way up until the wedding, which was set to take place in six months. The Prince scoffed at the idea.
“Why the hell do I even need to marry her? Why can’t I go find someone I like? I’m sure she’d rather marry someone she likes.” The Queen let out a low growl that could only be from a Dragon, directed toward her son. Her voice boomed through the hall. “Hold your tongue, boy. This alliance is important to both our kingdoms. You’ll do well to remember that.” He went silent with a snarl. She then turned her attention to you with a soft smile, the harsh edge gone from her voice.
“My apologies, dear. He can be...difficult. I hope your union can teach him some humility as well as respect for others.” With a soft smile, you nod. “I understand, my Queen. I pray I am not a burden to the Prince.” She chuckles and shakes her head as if you’d said something extremely amusing. Breakfast was soon over and you were left to spend the day alone with Prince Katsuki.
It was a rather difficult day. The Prince refused to speak, only voicing any irritation or anger he had for something he’d noticed. You were mostly quiet, in fear of angering him and possibly spoiling the union. He didn’t address you at all, and most interaction was awkward, but that was to be expected. You didn’t know each other. The King and Queen left the kingdom on a trip that was to last up until the week of the wedding, leaving you alone in the castle with the prince.
The first few weeks were relatively the same, little conversation between you and the Prince, silent meals, him angrily grumbling about one thing or another. You began to wonder if this was how life was going to be with him. It’s been nearly four months now, and he only ever addressed you briefly when he commented on one thing or another, though he was less angry lately. Tonight you lay awake in bed, stressing over whether or not you’d end up ruining this alliance.
Sleep refused to come, and you decided rolling around in bed would do you no good. Silently, you stepped out of your room and padded through the castle aimlessly. Eventually you ended up on a lone balcony at the face of the castle, far above the entrance and off to the side, jutting out from the cliffside. The chill of the night air made gooseflesh pebble your skin, but you welcomed it. It had been a while since you’d flown.
Wrapping your night robe tight around your body and stretching your wings, you stood on the railing and leaned back, falling into the open air and sailing into the night sky. You missed the wind rushing past your feathers, whipping through your hair. It was cold, but it made you feel free and light, away from the pressure of the marriage and alliance. Little did you know a pair of red eyes were watching you from a more hidden balcony.
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You were absolutely beautiful to him. Katsuki watched as you floated on the air. Your dark feathers barely catch the warm light from the castle, giving them a slight glint as they ruffled and moved. He watched as you darted up into the clouds, pulling your wings in and spiraling up through the thick barriers, then falling back downward with your wings stretched out below you.
You were mesmerizing, and he hated how quickly he’d grown fond of you. At first he thought you were some stuck up princess, like the Elf Prince Shouto Todoroki. But he was proven wrong rather quickly. You were intelligent, your opinions sound and logical, the complete opposite of him. He was rash and emotional, and he knew it. He soon came to respect you, though he couldn’t figure out how to speak to you for the life of him. He was always more a man of action. Words were not his forte.
But as he watched you in the night sky, he couldn’t help but be drawn to you. He wanted to fly with you, to dance with you through the air. He wanted to touch you, your skin, your feathers, even your horns. He’d never seen a Fae before, only drawings from books. Though those images were put to shame next to you. Your grace seemed unmatched, even compared to his mother, who was just as rough around the edges as he was.
He’d be embarrassed to say he observed you more than he had intended to. The way you walked as if you were floating, how you held yourself around others. Your posture was regal, poised, and yet full of humility and compliance. You looked like you understood your place in this world, like you knew why you were supposed to marry a Dragon in an arranged marriage instead of being able to choose who you loved.
His thoughts drifted as he watched you, and he found himself wanting to fly with you more and more as time passed. Unlike you, he could sprout his wings whenever he wanted, and soon his large leathery wings were fully formed, ready to lift him from his perch. And that’s exactly what he did.
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You were so distracted with the rushing wind you didn’t notice the figure approaching you until you felt the air whoosh behind you unnaturally. Swiftly, you turned, and found a pair of glowing red eyes focused on you. Both of you stayed there, flapping softly in the wind to keep steady. He was the first to break the silence.
“It’s a bit late for you to be flying, Princess.” His unusually soft tone of voice had heat rushing to your face. You sputtered out your response, partially from his words, partially from your nerves. “I, uh, I’m sorry, my Prince. I had no idea that…uhm… that I wasn’t allowed to fly this l-late.” A deep chuckle rumbled in his chest, clearly amused. ‘Cute’ he thought to himself. “I didn’t say that, Princess. Just that it was rather late for you to be awake.” More heat flooded your face at his teasing tone.
He tilts his head, indicating for you to follow him, and he flits away, landing on the balcony you’d leapt off of. You were close behind, and landed next to him as his wings vanished into his back. A large hand was extended toward you and you took it, a bit hesitant, as he’d never engaged this much contact before. His warm hand enveloped yours, and he pulled you alongside him through the castle.
You cleared your throat quietly to speak. “Apologies, my Prince, but where are we going?” A small smirk graced his lips as he turned to you. “It’s a surprise, Princess. But I promise you’ll like it.” You gave a small nod and allowed him to guide you through the halls of the castle. He led you deep into the mountain, down corridors you hadn’t explored before, and soon you were walking down uncarved tunnels lit only by torches every few feet.
After a few minutes in the tunnels, the torches came to an abrupt stop, and you began to feel uneasy with the looming darkness. As if sensing your hesitation, the Prince turned and squeezed your hand in his. “Don’t worry, I promise I’m not dragging you to the dungeon.” His voice was playful, something you’d never heard from him before. Despite the mild discomfort of the underground depths, you trusted him and let him pull you into the darkness.
Once your eyes had adjusted, a faint glow came from somewhere further inward. He kept walking, further and further down the tunnel, and the glow consistently strengthened until you were sure you’d find the source behind each turn you took. Then he stopped, and turned to look at you over his shoulder. “You ready, Princess?” You nodded almost excitedly, and he pulled you with him around the corner. The sight before you stole the breath from your lungs.
The source of the cool glow was a gigantic cavern, the walls and ground littered with white, green, blue, and purple crystals, all glowing in the darkness, illuminating the space. The high ceiling was dotted with them as well, almost mimicking the night sky. In the center was a deep pool that reflected the light, the crystalline water perfectly still and undisturbed. Your wings ruffled as you took in the sight before you, the reaction involuntary.
In your wonder, you failed to notice the Prince had disappeared from your side. He called out to you once he had sunk into the water, and your eyes snapped over to him, heat rushing to your face in the realisation that he was naked. He seemed to sense your shyness, and let out a chuckle. “Come on, Princess. Won’t you join me?” Slowly, you made your way over to the pool, eyes focused on the steam rising from the water, and away from the very naked Prince.
You sank down to your knees a few feet from him, your wings wrapping around you slightly. From the corner of your eye you could see his head tilt at you, and you were sure he was smirking at your flustered state. With an amused hum, he turned his body away from you, giving you privacy to undress and dip into the water. Once you were in, you settled onto the ledge and hugged your knees close to your chest, your wings hiding most of your body.
“Y-you can t-turn back around now, my Prince.” He shifted back to his original position, leaning against the edge of the natural pool and resting his arms up on the ledge, relaxing into the hot water. You were still a bit tense, not having been naked around a man before. His deep voice was playful as he spoke. “Relax, Princess. We’re to be married. I’ll see you eventually.” You could hear the teasing undertone and you hugged your knees in closer.
His eyes were now fixed on you. With a small sigh, he moved, and you squeaked as his arms wrapped under your wings and around your waist. He lifted you with ease, and positioned you to be straddled on his lap, face inches from his, strong arms holding you close. His eyes were glued to yours, and you couldn’t hold his gaze. It wasn’t the same intensity as the first time you’d looked at them. This time was a bit different, the burning in his eyes was not from anger.
A hand came up and cupped your cheek, shocking you from the gentle touch. His voice was just as gentle, soft as his eyes trailed over your features. “You’re beautiful, Princess.” Your wings puffed up slightly at his words, and his eyes snapped to them at the movement. “Can I touch them?” The question shocked you a bit, but you nodded, not trusting your voice.
The hand that was on your face reached out and pet your feathers, gliding down your wing gently. Nobody had really touched your wings other than you, and it was only to clean them. This was a new sensation, and your wings shook lightly as your shoulders tensed a bit. Katsuki’s ministrations froze, and his voice turned slightly serious. “What is it? Did I hurt you?”
You blinked at him before shaking your head. “No, no of course not. It’s just...nobody has ever touched my wings before…” He seemed to relax at that. Still, his hand pulled away from your wing in favor of holding your waist. He held you closer, and your breath hitched slightly at the close proximity, your noses inches apart. His breath was warm on your face. “You have no idea how bad I’ve wanted to hold you close like this, Princess.”
Your eyes widened at his words and he laughed a bit. “I’ll admit, Princess, you’d captured my attention rather quickly. I never quite knew how to talk to you. But I am impatient, and couldn’t wait to hold you.” You were giddy from his confession, and you leaned forward, burying your face into his neck and pressing your body into his.
Up until now, your focus had been on the marriage and the alliance and making sure it went well. But now, knowing it would work out, you allowed your feelings to come into play. From the beginning you’d been taken with the handsome Prince. Within the first month you were no doubt falling for him. His attitude and personality was rather brash, but he was never aggressive toward you. Sure, he didn’t speak to you, but his actions spoke much louder.
He was a gentleman more often than not, holding doors open, escorting you to and from meals, even occasionally gifting you gowns and jewelry. You’d kept your emotions in check, though you knew by now you’d fallen head over heels for the man. Now, his arms tightened around you and you breathed in each other’s scents. His fingers massaged the skin in between your wings, and your body shuddered. It felt...good. Really, really good. You mewled into his shoulder, enjoying the new sensation.
You could feel him smirk into your neck as his fingers dug into the fluffy feathers at the base of your wings. With a gasp, your wings extended out behind you and fluffed up, all the feathers ruffling as you pressed your body tighter to his. A warmth began to build in your abdomen and between your legs, and you squirmed a bit, unsure what the feeling was.
His hands released your feathers and gripped your hips with a low hiss. “Quit your squirming, Princess. I don’t think I can control myself right now.” His voice was deep, and slightly strained. You lifted your head to look in his eyes, and his pupils were dilating, red irises now small rings. “What do you mean, my Prince?” His eyebrows raised slightly before his lips curled into a smirk. He brought your hips down, grinding you down onto him.
That was when you felt it, his hardness rubbing against your thigh. A small gasp escaped your lips and heat bloomed from your chest up to your cheeks. He watched as your pupils matched his, irises disappearing into blackness. Leaning forward, he pressed his lips onto yours in a passionate kiss. When he finally let go you were both panting, and he leaned his forehead against yours. “Angel. My Angel.”
His eyes burned into your own as he spoke, his voice almost pleading. “Let me take care of you tonight.” You barely managed to nod before his lips were on yours again, this time hungry and wild. His tongue prodded at your lips and you let them part, let him explore your cavern in a mess of tongue and teeth. Without breaking the kiss his hands grabbed your thighs and began to lift, and your arms wrapped tight around his neck as he lifted you both from the warm water and walked.
You had no idea where he was taking you until he leaned and placed you down on soft pelts. Surprised, you pulled away to look around. The bed was situated behind a mass of towering crystals, hidden from the entrance. The blue glow illuminated the blonde’s face as he hovered above you, highlighting his features. You took a moment to admire just how beautiful he is, before his lips were on yours again.
His hands wandered freely now, groping the flesh at your hips and thighs, fingers massaging the soft skin there as his lips trailed down your neck and along your collarbones and shoulders. A thick finger found its way to your dripping core, and you let out a gasp at the feeling. You’d never laid with a man before, however you had to learn how to please one through books. You wondered briefly if the Prince had any real experience, before your mind was brought back to the moment as his finger pushed into you.
It wasn’t painful, and the mewl you let out let the blonde know you enjoyed it. His tongue attacked your pert nipples as distraction as he pressed another thick digit at your entrance, pushing it into your tight walls. A hiss escaped you from the slight burn, the stretch something you weren’t used to. Nothing had ever been inside you like this, the feelings foreign but pleasurable all the same.
His fingers maneuvered inside you, scissoring and curling and pumping until you were a panting moaning mess beneath him. His thumb dipped down into your wetness before reaching up to rub at the little bundle of nerves, making you flinch with the sudden jolt of pleasure, your wet walls clamping down on his fingers. A tightness built quickly in your abdomen the longer he kept his ministrations, and he leaned up to whisper in your ear.
“I can feel you gripping me. Cum for me, sweet girl.” His mouth attached to your neck and sucked, adamant to leave a mark. It only took a few more moments for you to fall apart around the man’s fingers, legs and wings trembling, moans echoing through the cave. When you had come down from that high, he pulled his fingers from you and licked them clean, a deep groan pouring from his lips.
Wrapping your legs around his waist, he lines himself up with your core, grasping your hip in one hand. “Are you ready for me, Angel?” Grabbing at the furs underneath you, you nod. “I’m ready, my Prince.” Slowly, he pushes himself into you, panting and growling, jaw clenched hard. The stretch burns, but only slightly, and soon you’re moaning and mewling beneath him. Finally fully seated inside you, his head drops to your shoulder and his arms wrap around you, holding you tight against him.
His breath is hot, blooming over your shoulder and neck, lips and tongue attacking the skin there. He holds his hips still, flush against yours, giving you time to adjust to him. When your walls relax around him, he begins to pump into you, shallow thrusts grinding himself into your walls. As he moves, his hands crawl up your back, fingers tangling into the base of your wings and massaging gently, making you moan out and wrap your arms around his neck.
He keeps his pace steady, but you can hear the strain in his breathing and feel his jaw clenched tightly. He’s holding back, and you don’t want him to. “Please, don’t hold back. I want all of you, Katsuki.” His movements stilled, you never used his name before. Pulling back, he peered down into your eyes as your hands held his face.
“You can have all of me, Angel, if you’ll be mine.” You leaned up and kissed him sweetly, “I’m already yours, my King.” A deep growl rumbled in his chest at your words, “Then you will have all of me.” He pulled his hips back and snapped back into you, setting a quick pace. Your breath came in pants and moans, the pleasure wracking through your body stealing the air from your lungs. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the cave, along with moans and growls and the smell of sex.
His arms held you tighter, fingers continuously digging into your feathers, lips latching onto your neck between heavy breaths. “Mine. My Angel, mine, mine. I love you my Angel.” You moaned out, your voice soft in his ear. “I love you my King. I’m yours, all yours forever.” His pace became erratic, and a hand came between your bodies to rub at the little nub between your folds. Only a few tight circles around it had you cumming and clamping down hard around his length, and he thrust into you hard.
A few more thrusts and he stilled himself, letting out a deep guttural moan as he spilled his seed inside you, holding your body tight to his. He rolled over, laying you on top of him without removing his length from you. Your wings stretched out behind you, falling limp at your sides once they were relaxed. Katsuki peppered kissed along your hairline, whispering sweet nothings as your breaths calmed.
After a long, comfortable silence, he spoke. “Are you alright, Angel?” You smiled and kissed at his chest. “Never better, my King.” He hummed, the sound vibrating through your body. “We should get back to the main castle. The maids will panic if we’re missing.” You giggled at the thought of the maids running around like headless chickens searching for the two of you. With a nod, you sat up, and he lifted you off of him.
You swung your legs over the side of the bed and pushed up, but your legs were weak and gave way to your weight. Katsuki caught you easily, and scooped you up like you weighed nothing. After bathing in the pool once more, you both dressed and he carried you with him to his chambers, and you fell asleep in each other’s arms.
The next couple months you spent nearly all your time together. You sit side by side during meals, talk regularly, and spend free time alone on a balcony or in the crystal cave. As you spend time with him, you notice things about him you never would have guessed before. He’s extremely perceptive, smarter than his angry demeanor would lead most to believe. He hates lying, hates secrets and deceit, which showed through when he explained why he was so against the arranged marriage at first.
The news was sprung on him only hours before you arrived, and he was angry that his parents had kept it secret from him. You noticed he was rather protective and liked skin contact, holding you tight to his body whenever he got the chance. He was thoughtful, his gifts were never useless, always something he was sure you would use and appreciate. Your favorite was the many custom jewels he had crafted for your horns. Some a delicate array of dainty silver chains and gems that glittered and swayed as you walked. Others golden wire, mimicking vines and leaves that twisted around and hugged your horns.
That was when you noticed his infatuation with your horns. He’d touch them often when your head was on his lap, tracing the intricate texture with his fingertips. He didn’t find them grotesque or intimidating like most others did, instead he found them beautiful and magical. He never tried to cover them, always adorning them with sparkling gems and glittering metal to accentuate the deep ebony.
He was curious, constantly asking questions about you, your home, and your customs. You grew to love the man more and more with every passing day, and as the wedding came and went you had no reserved feelings about the union. You loved Katsuki, the Dragon Prince, and he loved you, the Fae Princess. He was your King, and you were his Angel, and neither of you would have it any other way.
#bakugo katsuki#bakugo katsuki mha#bakugo katsuki bnha#katsuki bakugo x reader#katsuki bakugo#katsuki bakugo mha#katsuki bakugo bnha#bakugo katsuki x reader#bakugo katsuki smut#bakugo katsuki x fem reader#katsuki bakugo x fem reader#fantasy au mha#fantasy au bnha#dragon bakugo#dragon prince bakugo
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Endgame Strategy
Character: Benny Watts
A/n: I said I’d write for the hot chess people so I did. The timeline for this is kinda confusing but the desperation I had to write this made me simply not care.
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“(Y/n)!”
A familiar voice pulled you from your current task of getting Benny’s two ton apartment door shut. You barely got yourself inside before a pair of arms promptly wrapped around you.
You staggered backwards by the sudden weight, a noise between a wheeze and a laugh escaping you as you registered who it was.
“If it isn’t my favorite drama queen!” You pulled back to get a good luck at Beth, a big grin busting out on both of your faces.
“Come in,” She ushered you in, helping you take off your coat and asking you little questions as she lead you over to the sink.
You were a pretty established photographer for some big fashion companies, so you had been traveling with Cleo around Europe for the better half of a year. You’d telephoned Benny as soon as all of your campaigns wrapped up and he instantly insisted you come to New York to make up for lost time.
You had just started to get a word in when you felt someone come up behind you and squeeze you abruptly, practically toppling you over. “Look what the cat dragged in!”
You looked over to see Benny already looking down at you with a grin before promptly ruffling up your hair. “Hey stranger,” He grinned. You pushed him off and turned to give him a proper hug.
You noticed Arthur and Hilton lingering behind him and you pulled yourself from his hold to greet them as well.
“You came at the perfect time,” Benny said, slinging an arm over your shoulder. “We were just about to start.”
“What do you say, (Y/n)?” Hilton asked. “Finally gonna indulge us and play a game?”
You shoved his hands off of you and sent him a smile. “You don’t need some newbie slowing down your thunder,” You noticed Benny giving you the pleading look he always sent your way when you turned down playing chess. You swear you thought he knew how to deflate his eyes on purpose so he looked like a kicked puppy. “No, I don’t need your patronizing when I barely make it past five moves.”
Benny was an old childhood friend of yours, so you had known Arthur and Hilton for almost as long as he had. And they made it their personal life mission to rope into playing against one of them. But you were renowned for your patience and they’d yet to wear you down.
Beth sent a small pout your way and handed you a glass of water. “Oh please, now who’s the drama queen. You were doing great when I was teaching you last time we saw each other.”
Benny’s gaze shot up. “What?”
You scoffed at her, completely forget about your last encounter. “Now that’s not fair, we were hardly playing. You had to show me where to move every five minutes.”
“When did you see each other?” Benny pushed.
You sighed, smoothing down your sweater. “When I was in Paris with Cleo, we only saw each other the one night and I was just bored and tipsy enough to let her show me.”
She grinned at you, shoving her arm into you as she leant into your side. “I think you have lots of potential. I could make a grandmaster out of you, I know it.”
Benny’s eyes followed you as you moved from your standing position to sit next to him on the sofa.
“You never let me teach you how to play,” He murmured to you with a huff, causing a small tuft of his hair to fly upwards.
Benny had made several attempts to get you into the game he loved so dearly. And as one of the few constant people in his life he wanted you to be part of his world. But each time was met with a firm refusal on your part, insisting you wouldn’t get it. He’d try to pull every trick in the book, every charming smile and all the pretty words he knew to try and convince you to let him show you, but you were always indifferent to his charisma.
It annoyed the shit out of him.
Truth was you didn’t want to risk embarrassing yourself in front of him. You’d seen him play at almost every match he was ever in and it was almost scary how good he was. You could play a casual game and maybe boast a win or two, but playing against him wasn’t something you think you’ll ever do. Besides, give him the satisfaction of having your inevitable defeat over your head? Not in this lifetime.
You let out a light laugh, smiling at Beth as she moved to grab the other boards from Benny’s alarming collection he kept stuffed in the closet. “You’re too intimidating when you play, I’d be distracted.”
Benny rolled his eyes, thinking of the stern look that permanently sets on Beth’s face. The woman who looks like she’s three seconds away from going for your neck during her games but he was too intimidating.
You took a sip from your glass of water and lightly knocking over one of the knight pieces on the board in front of you. “I don’t see why it matters, I’ll be beat regardless of who’s playing.”
He frowned, he’d always wanted to play you. Not because he cared about winning but he just wanted you to see his skill firsthand. You didn’t bat an eyelash at winnings anymore, and you never stuck around for his in-depth lectures about game theory with the other players. But he also knew you liked knowing the way things worked. And since chess was his bailiwick, Beth being the only other American player who could beat him, he knew you’d be impressed. At first he just thought you weren’t interested, so knowing you were being taught by someone else stung twice-over.
You knew something was wrong when he didn’t send a clever remark back your way. Benny liked to think he was this cool and collected character, but really he could be quite the prima donna. Knowing him for as long as you did made him an open book, you could almost always know what he was thinking.
“Don’t be such a baby, Bens.” You grinned, leaning over to tap the end of his nose, something you always did to irritate him. “She crushed me anyways.”
“You’d win if you let me teach you.” He argued, looking at you pointedly.
“I don’t need to win, that’s your job,” You leaned into him, trying to stroke his ego to get him to drop the subject.
Benny’s ears perked up and he was about to go into of his grand self-assured lectures when Beth interrupted him, promptly placing the boxes of chess boards on the table in front of him.
“I dunno, (Y/n),” Beth gloated, passing a box to Hilton. “I think he’s losing his touch, last time we played I damn near emptied his wallet.”
That got your attention, and you sat up with a laugh. “You’re kidding? In speed chess?” Your cackles only grew when she gave a proud nod. “I can’t believe I missed it!”
Benny scoffed, pushing away from you to help set up the boards. “You hardly missed anything-“
“She kicked his ass, ,” Arthur chuckled, loosening the cap on his beer bottle. “Said she’d kick him the crotch too when he tried to argue with her.”
You raised your glass to Beth in commencement. “I knew there was a reason I liked you so much.”
“Another simultaneous?” Beth asked, noticing they were moving the boards onto the floor, she turned back to you. “Have you ever seen once of these?”
You shook your head dramatically, moving from your place on the sofa to the floor so you could sit right next to the action. “Nope! I mean I know what they are, but I’ve never actually seen one.”
She smirked, placing the clock at every board while the boys situated the pieces. “Well, you’re in for a treat, these are my specialty.”
You leaned forward, placing your elbows on your knees so could you watch every move. The speed of the game was something you had long gotten used to, but it never was any less impressive. You don’t know how anyone’s brain could go that fast, but watching the pieces fly around the board completely fascinated you.
Beth really was everything the chess magazines said she was and maybe even more amazing in person. You found it hard to pull your gaze away from her hand, watching as she completely tore through the three boys pieces. Hilton and Arthur were the first to lose, knocking over there kings.
You got ready to settle in while she took on Benny, but not even a few moments later you watched him grimace and reluctantly fish his wallet from his pockets.
“Wow,” You breathed out, looking over at Beth with a gaze that could only be described as positively starstruck. “I mean I knew you were good, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything like that.”
Beth felt her face get a little warm, not used to such straight-forward praise. At least not since she was a child prodigy. She reached her hand up to brush her hair out of her eyes, and pulled her gaze away from you.
“I can do it again.”
Benny felt his eyebrow twitch, he was used to your praise being directed at him for the most part. You had grown up with him constantly talking about and challenging others to play chess. And when he started to make a name for himself he’d taken you along with him. Before your work took off, you had more time to see his games in person. But, even when you couldn’t physically be there, you always called when you saw the results in Chess Review or tuned in to one of the broadcasted matches.
He was the best in the States for a long time, so you had become especially hard to impress. He knew Beth was better him than by miles, but to finally have his title of best chess player you knew taken away made him feel scratchy.
But he scoffed, straightening his back to try and get his focus back. “Not if I have anything to say about it, Harmon.”
And so for about three more games, she absolutely crushed the three boys. You got closer to the boards each time, admiring Beth’s superhuman skill. It made you feel a little sting of pride, the girl was showing up three of most arrogant and skilled players you knew.
“God,” You leaned back onto your elbows, sniffling a giggle when. “I would’ve given any amount of money to be here to see the faces on these boys when you did this the first time.”
Beth smirked, rounding up the pieces to put them away in their cases. “Me too, we could’ve gotten it all on camera.”
You groaned. “Such a missed opportunity.”
You lolled your head over and saw Benny staring intently at the board, a deep frown on his face. You smiled, scooting over so you could lean all your weight against him. “Don’t look so sad, Bens. I’m sure you would’ve gotten her eventually.”
He laughed, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “That’s what you used to tell all the sorry losers I used to beat.”
You closed your eyes, settling into his side and sighing at his warmth. “You’re not a sorry loser. You’re the best chess player I know.”
“Still?”
“Hey now, I didn’t drag my ass to every one of your matches for decades for you to question my loyalty,” You teased, you opened your eyes and saw something on his wall. Nestled snug inside a frame was the first time he was on the cover of Chess Review.
“You remember when I took that?” You nodded towards it.
Benny smiled properly, his eyes getting a familiar shimmer. “Yes ma’am, I told them I wouldn’t be on the cover unless you got to take my photos,” He wrapped an arm around you. “Course if I had known it’d make you a hot shot photographer who had to go away all the time I might’ve kept my mouth shut.”
You smiled, reaching up to flick his forehead. “I’ve taken all your photos for decades” You made a sweeping notion with your hands to all the various magazines scattered around his apartment. “Even when we were kids, I think I earned my little adventures abroad”
Benny gave you a look, one you couldn’t quite place, but he kept your gaze for awhile. A small smile snuck up in the corner of his mouth before he looked down, strawberry blonde strands hiding him from your view.
“Well don’t stay away so long next time, yeah? I missed you.”
#the way this has bi disaster just written all over it#benny watts imagine#benny watts x reader#benny watts imagines#the queen’s gambit#the queen’s gambit imagine#queen’s gambit imagine
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Ok not gonna lie as bad/sad as it sounds I'm kinda used to grown ass people throwing tantrums and I. Get so sick of it so fast so the angry yan!Sen post has me imagining a darling who's mostly just tired of the outbursts so they just wait till he needs to catch his breath before going "... right. You done there, big guy? Or are you gonna make my ears ring for another half hour?"
Just. No swearing. No yelling or cursing, either-- just Tired Of This Shit(tm)
[Btw this is the same anon who came up w that yan!pico x goth reader haaaiiii]
Omg hai! So nice to have you back, anon! I actually love this concept, and I honestly had a lot of fun writing this! Thanks for stopping by!
( :̲̅:̲̅:̲̅[̲̅:♡:]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅)
Sen has absolutely no idea how to handle not getting what he wants, especially if he's throwing a tantrum to get it. Everyone who he's ever interacted with was more than happy granting whatever wish he waved them to make a reality, and he was damn sure he could have the entire school at his beck and call in an instant if he was to show the amount of anger he'll happily show you
He isn't used to not having everything and anything he wants. He's not used to having to fight this hard for a lover's fair hand. And the fact you're making him work this hard is only making him angrier. He just doesn't get it. Why aren't you cracking? Why won't you just obey? It'll be much easier for the both of you that way. In his eyes, at least.
Another thing he isn't able to handle is being or feeling looked down upon by anyone. And to see you not only acting completely indifferent to his outburst, but to mock him right to his face as well? He'll be absolutely floored. Senpai, as "AI-ish" as he may be, is human to an extent. He has operational lungs, and he thus needs to breathe. Screaming for long periods of time, especially with how much emotion goes into his yells, will leave anyone completely out of breath in no time. He'll see you finishing him off with some comment as you looking down on him. Kicking him when he's already on the ground, if you will. As soon as you finish speaking, he'll most likely punch the nearest object just to blow more steam off, even if that nearest object happens to be the wall. Senpai has an incredibly strong inferiority complex, which ironically only fuels his narcissism further. He needs to act above and superior to everyone, or everything in his brain will fall out of place. It shouldn't be this hard to court you, he doesn't understand why he has to go to these lengths
If you were to ever get "used" to Senpai's tantrums, your clear mind would definitely be able to rationalize how truly childish he really is when he's angry. He acts just like a toddler who isn't allowed to get a toy, and that essentially the situation if you look at it from a non-literal point of view. The yelling, the stamping around the room, the breaking and damage of objects, if he wasn't a murderer he would actually be quite laughable. If Senpai were to ever fully put the fact tantrums aren't working through his thick skull, he might force himself to take a different approach, and it would be a far cry from his usual anger. Yelling for just a few words of a sentence, before pausing to take a deep breath and clenching his fists. You weren't fearing him after seeing what he was already doing, so he was forced to make you fear him by alerting you to what he could do
"You know, you should be feeling lucky. Those weasels you called friends are really the only ones I've been picking off." Or "It would be a shame if your family was next up on my list, wouldn't it (Y/N)?"
While Senpai is childish at some of his worst moments, don't underestimate him and how much of a danger he really is. He has his eyes set right on you, he wants you. He needs you, he craves you. And he'll do absolutely everything in his power to make sure he gets to have you.
#yandere senpai x reader#yandere senpai#fnf senpai#yandere senpai fnf#senpai x reader#fnf imagines#yandere fnf#fnf x reader#fnf hcs#fnf#friday night funkin headcannons#friday night funkin#friday night funkin hcs#yandere friday night funkin#friday night funkin imagines#yandere x reader#yandere hcs#yandere#yandere imagines#male yandere#yandere boy
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Some Ten/Rose domestic fluff for the DoctorRose Fic Marathon, mostly to soothe my mental health but who doesn’t need more Ten/Rose in their lives?
T W E N T Y O N E
SUMMARY: Ten/Rose. It's Rose's twenty-first birthday, and she's invited the Doctor along to a party thrown by her mum. A night of pub celebrations, boisterous friends and family gatherings, quizzes, a little bit of jealousy and some hard truths ahead, the Doctor must grit and bear the domesticity for his best friend — well, the love of his life. If only there was something to make it worthwhile..
TAGS: fluff, domestic, romance, jealousy, pub quizzes, everyone loves Rose Tyler (the Doctor being top of that list), mutual pining, longing, etc etc
Read on AO3: twenty one
***
“See you’ve found a way to pass the time,” she muttered once Laura was out of earshot, slipping her arm out from his and grabbing the napkin from the bar. She looked at it distacefully for a moment, before she passed the napkin to him.
“Enduring terrible flirting and being come on to is just one of the many things I’m voluntarily subjecting myself to to be here with you tonight.”
“How hard that must be for you.”
He couldn’t put his finger on why, exactly, she seemed irritated, and when Laura put the drink in front of her and begrudgingly took the tenner from the Doctor, Rose seemed to only sadden as she swirled her straw around in her drink.
“Just didn’t think you were interested in this sort of stuff, s’all,” she shrugged.
He frowned; he assumed she must have meant flirting. “I’m not.”
Rose looked at her drink for a moment, a pinch in her brow that he couldn’t translate. It wasn’t indifference, it wasn’t even the irritation she was projecting on her voice, but he wasn’t fond of it, he knew that much.
“Only got eyes for you, promise.”
***
It was one of those days, the ones he hadn’t really ever had to subject himself to in his many years of life, and he calls them ‘obligatory domestics’. The kinds of days where he needs to drop Rose off so she can do a bit of ‘life admin’: check in on her grandparents, nip to primark to get some basics, cash her birthday cheques, all that sort of stuff.
And then, of course, there were the days he needed to attend parties.
Now, he wasn’t a party person. Awkward small talk, terrible music — depending on the decade, of course — dreadful finger food, that annoying needless obligation to stay and ‘enjoy yourself’ when all you really wanted to do was leave. This was one of those days where Rose had a party to attend, and had asked him to just drop her off back at home for the night and they could get back to travelling the next day.
The problem was, it was her birthday party.
Now, if it were his birthday — if he even had a birthday — then he wouldn’t exactly call it a mark for celebration. Not even at the turn of a new century, and he most certainly wouldn’t call turning a thousand a celebration, which he was sure was coming up soon. And the funny thing was, Rose didn’t feel the need to celebrate birthdays, either. Well, unless they were somebody else’s; she would go out of her way to make that day astronomically special for them. So when she had turned to him last week, when they were out enjoying a milkshake in a diner on Panvorix, and told him, regrettably, that her mum wanted to throw her a birthday party with her friends and family for her twenty-first, which he was sure meant something to humans, he wondered whether he really needed to be there.
But, and this is where he finds it difficult: he somehow knew she wanted him there. She hadn’t explicitly said so, she had just sort of shrugged and said ‘you can come, too, although I doubt you’ll want to’. But other than that, she had talked about it as though she was going to go, not they. And if he only paid attention to her words and what she was saying, like he thought most humans — and, well, every other species in existence — did, then he would have felt no obligation whatsoever to join her. But these humans, and especially the British, have this odd sort of way of communicating where they would say one thing with words but also without them, and usually, the things they weren’t saying was quite different to the things that they were. And it seemed as though this was the case with Rose. Her lack of eye contact, the slight reddening in her neck, the indifference that he just knew wasn’t as indifferent as she would have liked it to be. She’d slurped her milkshake and changed the subject and that was that — no need to dwell. But once she had gone to bed that night, he wondered. He tinkered away in the control room and tried to interpret all those little things and he just couldn’t, so he gave up and decided to take her for her word. So he told himself, if she brings it up again, if she asks-but-doesn’t-ask him to come, then he’ll go with her. Otherwise, he’ll leave her with her mum for the night and come back for her the next day as she asked.
That was until Jackie called.
“You’re coming,” she had said flatly, and she had said it in such a frighteningly threatening way that he only nodded and agreed.
Rose had seemed most happy when he had said they were getting to her mum’s for midday on Saturday. She had quickly tried to hide it, and once more he got the impression that she was only acting nonchalant. But he wasn't quite sure, so he double checked just to be safe.
“You sure you want me there?”
She had frowned, and again shrugged without looking at him. “Course, you’re my best mate.”
And so here he was. Waiting in the control room for her, in a blue suit this time, while she packed her things in an overnight bag.
Today was her actual birthday. Her mum had called her all excited, wishing her a happy birthday — even though she was about to see her in a couple of hours. The Doctor had made her a cup of tea and said happy birthday, too, but Rose’s cheeks had flushed pink and he took that to mean that was enough making-a-fuss over her birthday for the day. Other than that, he hadn’t seen her all morning, and so when she entered the control room freshly showered and now in her jeans and a hoodie, her backpack slung over her shoulders, she grinned quite sheepishly and said,
“Hello.”
“Hello,” he echoed, a little less nervously. “All packed and ready, then?”
“I am indeed,” she nodded, and skipped over to him with a bit more gusto. “You mentally prepared?”
‘Oh, absolutely not.”
“Me neither,” she chuckled, and tugged on his arm. “You didn’t see mum on my eighteenth — she gets several octaves higher, just to warn you.”
He shuddered. “Well, lucky for you— and me, I suppose— my capacity to detect high pitches gets less and less with each passing century.”
“That’s good to know.”
After they had gone to Nando’s for lunch, Jackie had asked the Doctor to join her and help set up at the pub while Rose got ready back at the flat with a couple of her mates. He hadn’t been in love with the idea — a few hours alone with Jackie filling him in on the gossip of somebody called ‘Bev’ while various 90s pop songs echoed through the room, that was — and she certainly did like to talk when she was excited. They had pinned a few ‘Happy 21st Birthday!’ banners around the room, chucked a lot of small plastic ‘21’s across the floor and the bar, and, by the time Rose called to say she was on her way, the room had filled with quite a lot of people indeed. Some family members he was sure he had met before, little kids of cousins he definitely hadn’t, and a few of Rose’s friends who seemed to know her family quite well. It was the first time that day he had sort of warmed, seeing that Rose had grown up with such a loving group of friends and extended family, and he even loosened just a little as he chatted to a few while they waited for Rose to turn up.
“Everybody, she’s at the bottom of the road!” Jackie called out loudly, when she received a text from Shareen. At that, people picked up nearby birthday poppers and whistles, getting to their feet with excited and anticipatory smiles — the Doctor even had a confetti cannon himself ready to go for when she walked in.
But of course, when she did walk in, he couldn’t do anything at all except look at her.
As people called out excited ‘happy birthday!'s and set off their poppers, the Doctor found himself completely anchored to the spot while the room only burst with colour and into life. He had always found her quite beautiful, especially when she was giggling away or saying something particularly clever, and he had even found himself breathless once or twice to watch her. But tonight, goodness — he wasn’t convinced he had two bloody hearts because neither one was beating and certainly neither of them were supplying oxygen to the rest of his body.
It was her smile, without a doubt. It was different somehow, like an old smile he was sure she must have used before she met him, to see all these familiar faces of her loved ones. That, and her cheeks were dusted a delightful pink, a little shy he knew she must have been to have so many people around her for her. Her hair was wavy for once, and she wore a black dress that the Doctor was momentarily ashamed to find himself looking at; the way it sculpted her curves and defined the most enchanting silhouette, cut mid-thigh and exposing her legs — and he was especially ashamed for his gaze to linger on those, but she was simply so exquisite, everywhere, that he soon felt instead the same overwhelming awe he gets when he studies a painting, ones in which the colours tell a compelling story and the shapes express feelings that words could not completely.
He still hadn’t managed to find his breath by the time she caught his eye, and he found himself desperately trying to cling to coherent thoughts when she nervously made her way over to him.
“Hello,” she said again when she got to him, pausing for a moment before she reached up on her toes to give him a hug. He had just enough semblance of normality to return the gesture, albeit weakly — still trying to process his thoughts as he was.
Tell her!
“Happy birthday,” he whispered instead, and he heard her giggle by his ear before she released him, and there was a moment where he could have told her just how breathtaking she looked, but of course, he didn’t.
Instead, she scratched her arm and looked around the room. “Thanks for helping mum set all this up.”
“Oh, right—” he cleared his throat “— sure, no probs.”
“You’ll have to fill me in on all the gossip later.”
“Don’t worry, I took notes.”
She chuckled, and her eyes softened as she looked at him, taking him in, and they seemed to even darken somehow, which sent an odd sort of sense of affirmation through him — he was right not to shave today, then.
“Listen, er—” she began, her brow creasing in awkwardness, and she started scratching her arm again. He watched her curiously, wondering what she was about to say and feeling strangely nervous, all of a sudden. “Please don’t — I mean, thank you for coming, it— I just wanted to say please don’t stay, if you don’t want to— if you’re feeling awkward or anything just feel free to, you know—”
“Rose, it’s alright,” he grinned, putting his hands in his pockets. “I’ll be alright.”
“I know, I just didn’t want the last of the Time Lords to perish here in this pub in Southwark out of boredom.”
“Yeah, would be a dreadful end to their race I must admit.”
“Not one for the textbooks,” she giggled. “Nor one I’d particularly like on my conscience, either.”
“Blimey, you’re right — lot riding on the entertainment this evening, then.”
“Well in that case, I should remind you that mum planned this party.”
“Oh,” he groaned, and sighed defeatedly while she only continued to chuckle. “It’s just a couple of hours. I can do it.”
He sort of regretted saying that. Well, no, he definitely regretted saying that.
He’d spent the first hour or so meeting Rose’s family, and then after that getting to know five or six of Rose’s friends, sat around in a booth. They were all friendly enough, inviting him in as one of their own and of course, he thought, Rose’s friends would be charming, since they were Rose’s friends after all.
And then there was Callum, he thinks his name was, and at first the Doctor was able to maintain a calm composure despite his irritability when the lad put his arm around Rose, but after twenty minutes or so and he still hadn’t moved, the Doctor started to sincerely regret his decision to come here tonight and wondered whether he could quietly slip away and narrowly avoid some other, less painful end. But then Rose would give him that look, that smile that just seemed to settle him if only for the fact that it was hers. And so he stayed, listening to stories of their school days and joining in with their laughter until it became just a little too much, when Callum started whispering things to Rose when nobody else was paying attention. Rose didn’t seem particularly bothered by him, nor was she giving off any signs that she was uncomfortable, but he certainly seemed to have more of an agenda than she, and just enough that it pissed the Doctor off enough for him to excuse himself to get a drink instead.
“Just a Coke, thanks,” he said as he reached the bar, but the bartender looked back at him apologetically.
“Pepsi alright?” she said.
His shoulders slumped in disappointment because why would he want a Pepsi if he was ordering a Coke—
“Just kidding,” she grinned, reaching down for a glass and picking up a glass bottle of Coke. “Wouldn’t do that to you.”
“Oh,” he only half smiled, and loosened his tie just a little to finally just be able to breathe. “Well, that’s a relief.”
“You look like you could use something stronger, though.”
“Do I?” he frowned, somewhat surprised but not entirely that he must look exhausted to others. It was exhausting, realising that he was far too in love for his own good. But the bartender didn’t look like she thought that, not at all, as she grinned over to him.
“Parties don’t really seem like your sort of thing.”
He shook his head, resting his elbows on the bar. “No, not really.”
“So what is your thing, then?”
Earth wasn’t quite ready for the question to be answered with ‘time travel, mostly’, so he flustered a little in search of an answer more reasonable for the time period. “I tried soap carving, once. That was fun.”
She looked back at him completely confused for a moment, and he only added the admission to the long list of things he was regretting about this evening, before she gave him a friendly smile.
“Not something I would have expected you to say.”
When the Doctor only shook his head in hopeless exasperation, she grinned,
“I’m Laura, by the way.”
“John,” he retorted, as she placed the Coke in front of him.
“Nice to meet you John — this one’s on me.”
It took him a second to realise she had just bought him a drink — of Coke — but a common gesture nonetheless he was sure indicated flirting. “Oh— er, thanks.”
She nodded, but didn’t turn to serve any of the other guests, not that it was all that busy up at the bar, anyway. “So, John. Did you, er, come here with anyone tonight?”
As dreadful to admit as it was, he couldn’t say that he had. And it seemed so odd to him to think about, because he went everywhere with Rose, but he had never been anywhere with her. It wasn’t really something he had ever considered, whether he would like to start going places with Rose as his and he as hers, but now, as he thought about Rose with that slimy little git behind him, he rather wished that he didn’t have to fret. Not about the dreadful moment she tells him tonight that she’s going back to Callum's, and not about any other time in the future she would admit to having fallen in love with somebody else. It wasn’t a possessive thing, he didn’t want for nobody else to want her because she was his, but he wanted to just love her and be free to; no more of this pining and hiding and instead just be able to say that he was so terribly in love with her and that wasn’t going to change, no matter how much he wanted it to. Except he highly doubted she would want that, this nine-bloody-hundred-year-old alien who had murdered and cowered to be hopelessly devoted to her when she didn’t exactly ask for it. So, he swallowed, feeling his hearts sink in defeat as he did.
“No. Just me.”
Laura’s lips curled in triumph, and she leant in a little bit closer. “In that case, what are you doing tonight?”
If he was just that little bit less in love, he might have been tempted, he had to admit. But he was far beyond the point now of needing a distraction to this dreadful torment, he was much too in love with Rose to even be able to be distracted in the first place. Yet, he couldn’t quite find his voice to decline, so he only started to fluster as he broke eye contact, and took a sip of his drink in the meantime.
“Tell you what,” she smirked, taking a napkin from the bar and began to scribble something on it. “I finish at eleven-thirty. Here’s my number, just in case.”
As he helplessly watched her, he felt somebody put their arm through his as they approached the bar from behind, and was somewhat mortified to find Rose appear beside him. She looked quite peculiar indeed, an expression he had seen a couple of times aimed directly at the woman in front of her, and he glanced down in confusion when she placed her other hand on his arm.
“Malibu and Coke, please.”
Laura looked over to her, then down to her arm, then back up with a look that only seemed to mirror Rose’s. “Got any ID?”
Rose scoffed. “This is my party, you know.”
“Can’t serve you unless you’ve got ID.”
“Tell you what—” the Doctor interrupted, reaching into his pocket for the psychic paper as he heard Rose about to counter “—this one’s on me. Can’t have the birthday girl paying for her own drinks.”
Laura only looked back at him in disillusionment, her eyes flickered back to Rose. “Okay, but it was just you I was buying the drink for.”
Rose scoffed incredulously, and wrapped her arms around the Doctor’s only tighter as the two women seemed to be engaging in a fight without actually fighting. Or from what he could tell, anyway.
“See you’ve found a way to pass the time,” she muttered once Laura was out of earshot, slipping her arm out from his and grabbing the napkin from the bar. She looked at it distacefully for a moment, before she passed the napkin to him.
“Enduring terrible flirting and being come on to is just one of the many things I’m voluntarily subjecting myself to to be here with you tonight.”
“How hard that must be for you.”
He couldn’t put his finger on why, exactly, she seemed irritated, and when Laura put the drink in front of her and begrudgingly took the tenner from the Doctor, Rose seemed to only sadden as she swirled her straw around in her drink.
“Just didn’t think you were interested in this sort of stuff, s’all,” she shrugged.
He frowned; he assumed she must have meant flirting. “I’m not.”
Rose looked at her drink for a moment, a pinch in her brow that he couldn’t translate. It wasn’t indifference, it wasn’t even the irritation she was projecting on her voice, but he wasn’t fond of it, he knew that much.
“Only got eyes for you, promise.”
She seemed to only laugh in spite of herself at his words, and seemed to receive his joke — although he couldn’t be certain he had meant it to be one. She looked up at him through those devilishly long eyelashes of hers and he tried desperately to think of just about anything to say to change the subject.
“Having a nice night?”
Rose pulled up a bar stool and hoisted herself up, wiggling about to get comfortable. “S’been nice, yeah. So many mates I haven't seen in forever — not since we all went to get our GCSEs.”
He gazed to the side of her in thought. “Five years ago, that must be now?”
She raised her eyebrow, but didn’t smile. “Yeah. Can’t believe it.”
She started poking at the ice in her drink now, but not consciously. She was distracted, seemingly saddened by the thoughts running through her mind. He watched her hand, her nails recently painted, wearing the ring her mum had got her for her birthday.
“I’m twenty-one,” she almost whimpered.
“Wait till you get to nine-hundred.”
He was relieved to hear her laugh, a real one, and she glanced at him with kind eyes, her eyes, not those strangely woeful ones she looked at her glass with. “Yeah. If ever I’m feeling old, I’ll just think about you instead.”
“There are some benefits to being ancient, then.”
She giggled, and it only seemed to tickle her more until he saw her completely, Rose as he knew her returned back to him. It relieved him, and he realised he had stiffened to see her so glum. She glanced once more down at the napkin and he sighed, unsure exactly what she was thinking, before something told him to lift up her glass and place it underneath instead. She turned to him with a shy smile, her lips thin as she tried to hide whatever emotion was surfacing, and she was unable to hold his gaze for long when she leaned against him to nudge his arm with hers. An apology, he guessed, and he himself tittered in response. She was less saddened certainly, but her silence was not quite unburdened, so he sought,
“What’s on your mind?”
“Hmm?”
“You,” he said softly. “I know you don’t like your birthday, but something’s up.”
She once more gave him one of those thin smiles, a smile he recognised was one she was trying to put on for him but unsuccessfully — he knew her, afterall. She sighed, and shook her head.
“Everyone’s… it’s just so strange. Being back, after having been away. Things have just… happened. Like Charlie’s had a baby, can’t believe it. She’s younger than me.”
So that was it. He felt an odd sense of guilt in the centre of his chest that only sank lower, and he realised she had only been confronted with how much she had missed since travelling with him. How much she was missing out on, and how much he had taken from her while he only wanted to keep her for himself. But he didn’t suppose she needed his self-loathing tonight, so instead, he frowned as he thought.
“Charlie’s your…” he began, trying to remember as he scanned the room.
“Cousin.”
“Right,” he nodded. He was surprised to find her watching him with a gentle smile when he looked back at her. “What?”
“Nothing,” she grinned, sheepishly, looking down briefly as her smile only grew less so and slightly more endeared, might he say, instead. “Just you, trying to learn all my family and friends.”
“Trying being the keyword there — there’s a lot of them.”
“I know, but it’s funny,” she teased, that tongue sticking out of her teeth that he had to quickly avert his gaze from, “You can remember something complex and yet still get lost remembering the names of my family.”
“My mind sadly is not a TARDIS,” he jibed, and she chortled delightfully into her glasses as she took a sip. “Everytime I have to remember one of your cousin’s names, I have to forget about something else. I’ve forgotten Einstein’s special relativity equation to remember you have an Aunt called Jeanette.”
“Well, that's a bummer for relativity, because my Aunt’s called June.”
He frowned at her, momentarily fooled, before he rolled his eyes. “No she’s not.”
Rose scoffed with her mouth agape in shock. “Yes she is!”
As she giggled away, he vaguely recalled meeting a month, before his eyes widened and he blinked in defeat.
“Blimey, right then.”
Rose put her drink back down on the bar and struggled to contain her giggles and, goodness, he simply couldn’t look away. Her eyes scrunched shut, her nose wrinkled and smile so bright, she was impossibly beautiful when she was like this, her laughter sounding so pure and so wonderfully joyous. He wasn’t convinced she was laughing solely at his complete inability to remember anything remotely related to something so important as her family, because he only imagined it to be quite disappointing, but he wasn’t about to step in and stop her, especially not when he felt his own smile begin to grow at seeing her this way. She shook her head and opened her eyes as her giggles subsided but smile remained and she looked at him in the most breathtaking way and he could feel himself falling, needing to physically stop himself from leaning in closer to her.
There was a moment, one terribly long agonising moment, where he thought he might just falter. Despite everything inside him begging him not to, he found himself unable to hear himself when her eyes locked with his in such a way, in fact, the only thing that was able to prevent him from kissing her was knowing how terribly awkward it would be when she pulls back, wondering what on Earth he was thinking to presume she would want him to kiss her. So he swallowed, and looked away, back down at his drink and he took another sip.
Thankfully, before he had a chance to make a fool of himself and try to string a sentence together, he was interrupted by a voice sounding from a microphone behind them. They both turned, and, over at the corner of the pub stood two of Rose’s girlfriends, both of whom he remembered were with them at the table earlier, standing with a few pieces of card in their hands.
“Ahem — can we have everyone’s attention, please?” one of them — he was sure her name was Grace — announced, a smug anticipatory smile donned her slightly flushed face, and the room went quiet a moment before the music turned down, too. “Hi! Good evening, everyone! So, in case you aren’t all aware yet, today is our very own Rosie Tyler’s twenty-first birthday!”
The room broke into applause, a few cheers and the odd wolf whistle as many turned to look at Rose beside him.
He teased quietly only to her, “Rosie?”
“Shut up,” she muttered as she elbowed him, but couldn’t stop grinning despite herself. “Little gits know I hate being called Rosie.”
“So before we get started, a very happy birthday to you!” the other girl — Cara, was it? There goes Euler’s equation, he surrendered — said into the microphone. “We hope you’re having a great night, and we love you—”
“Even if she did nick my GHDs.”
Rose snorted when Grace stuck her tongue out at her. “I did not! I just forgot to give them back to you!”
“Hmm, how convenient— anyway,” Grace stressed, and the room was chuckling to their playful teasing. “We thought we might play a little game, before we start the, er, slideshow in a bit—”
“Oh, god,” Rose muttered under her breath, and the Doctor sniggered quietly.
“— just a quick ‘How well do you know Rose Tyler’ quiz. No teams, no competition, strictly for embarrassment purposes alone.”
“Get me out of here,” Rose whispered to him, but he stayed firmly put.
“Oh, absolutely not. I’m staying for this.”
“Then I’m going to fly your ship myself and leave you here stranded.”
“Fine by me, I want to see all those pictures you’ve been so adamant remain hidden away in a box every time we go round to your mum’s.”
She groaned, and hid her face in her palms.
“So, without further ado: question one.” Grace paused for dramatic effect, reading the words on her paper with a teasing smile. “What was the name of Rose’s first boyfriend?”
“Oh my god, my mum’s here—”
“Jimmy!” one of her friends shouted, and the Doctor felt Rose bury her face against his arm.
“No,” she whispered, about the same time Grace called out,
“Incorrect!”
“Craig David!” a male voice shouted, and Rose groaned loudly as the room went quiet.
“That is correct!”
The Doctor scoffed next to her as the rest of the room erupted into laughter. “Oh, come on.”
“Rose absolutely believed she and Craig David were meant to be back in year six, and told everyone they were boyfriend and girlfriend,” Cara giggled, and the Doctor only chuckled to hear Rose repeatedly whispering ‘Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god’ into his arm.
“Had to get her a poster!” Jackie called with a squeal of delight.
“Get me— you’re a Time Lord for god’s sake, go back in time and stop this from all happening!” Rose urged.
“Not a chance.”
“Question two!” And once more, the room went quiet in anticipation. “And a little less embarrassing, maybe—”
“Thank God,” Rose mumbled. At that point, he couldn’t really stop himself from giving her arm a gentle stroke.
“— Which film was Rose obsessed with at the beginning of secondary school?”
“Easy! Back to the Future!” another one of her friends called out.
The Doctor scoffed, “You’re kidding?”
Rose pulled away, then, unashamed. “Marty Mcfly, hottest fictional character in the world, I stand by it.”
“If I dress up in that puffer vest and the TARDIS gets her act together to disguise as a DeLorean, are we just playing out your secondary school fantasy?”
“Why do you think you had me so hooked with ‘did I mention it also travels in time’?”
“And that is correct!” Grace called, and just on queue, The Power of Love began to play through the speakers. Rose shook her head, and broke into a timid but unabashed smile.
“How many gigawatts to travel in time, Rose?” Grace called.
“One point twenty-one!” she volleyed, unashamed.
“Is that all? I’ll remember that for next time,” the Doctor whispered, and she elbowed him with a smirk.
“Question three — and sorry, Jackie — but why did Rose get two weeks of detention in year eleven?”
“Oh my god no!”
“Two weeks!” The Doctor kept his exclamation hushed, and once more Rose turned back around to face the other side of the bar, but he tugged on her arm to bring her back around, leaving her unable to hide her embarrassment and red hot cheeks.
“For skipping maths to snog Jimmy in the art room!”
“Rose!” Jackie gasped loudly as the room cheered.
“This is the worst thing that has ever happened in my life ever,” she groaned to the Doctor, and he only found her that much more gorgeous as she looked so delightfully mortified.
“That is correct!”
Rose whimpered quietly to the Doctor as the rest of the room erupted into laughter, “Please do that thing again where you make me forget all of my memories.”
“The snog wasn’t that great, then?”
She shuddered. “Far too much tongue.”
“How delightful,” he chuckled, feeling a peculiar sense of victory.
“Question four!” Grace called, and waited for the room to settle. “Which medal did Rose win in the county gymnastics?”
“The bronze!” the Doctor called, surprised but unashamed for calling out himself, and the room roared in cheer and a thunderous applause broke out.
“And quite right!” Cara hailed into the microphone, and Rose bumped arms with the Doctor.
“Was only the bronze,” she mumbled.
“Hey!” he denounced, “The bronze is bloody excellent!”
Her smile was thin and bashful and begged to be attended to; he responded without thinking by pulling her into his side and she wrapped her arms around his waist.
“Okay, okay, our last and final question—” somebody at one of the nearby tables began to perform a drum roll as Grace paused to read the card “— What did Rose do on her eighteenth birthday?”
“Get absolutely hammered?” someone suggested, and by the way Rose only hid herself further into his chest and shook her head, he imagined they were right.
“More detail needed!” Grace called.
“My whole family’s here,” she whimpered quietly.
“How PG are we keeping it?” one of the boys from the table they were all sitting at earlier shouted, and they giggled amongst themselves.
“Oh god, was it that bad?” he whispered to her, but she just kept shaking her head.
“More PG than your eighteenth, Liam,” Cara pointed out, to which Liam held his hands up in his surrender.
“Didn’t you throw up at Tottenham Court Road bus stop?”
“That was not me!” Rose called out, releasing her hold on the Doctor. He folded his arms, now very aware that the rest of the room was looking at them. “That was Shareen!”
Shareen gasped somewhere in the crowd. “You little grass!” She slammed her hand down on the table and stood up. “And for that, I’m breaking my silence — on Rose’s eighteenth birthday, she got drunk and performed ‘Steps, Tragedy’ up on a table on Carnaby Street in front of the entire street with accompanying dance moves — and she fell down at the end.”
“And we have the video to play to you all later!” Cara beamed, just as the room erupted into an excited cheer.
Rose shrieked in protest, her cheeks burning red and the Doctor only cackled at the image of Rose drunkenly bearing her heart and soul out to what he knew was her favourite girl band of the 90s, so he could only imagine how animated that performance must have been. People had got to their feet, cheering and clapping as Rose hid her face in her palms and Tragedy began to blare through the speakers. Some chanted along, some were too lost in their own giggling and retelling of old anecdotes, and some flocked to Rose to give her gleeful hugs and cheer her on. But something about it saddened him all of a sudden, watching as Rose was swallowed up by the love of her friends so fierce and unashamed, a dull and remorseful ache somewhere in his chest that he couldn’t quite place but certainly didn’t like.
He turned back around and spotted Laura, now leaning against the back bar, and he caught her eye.
“I’ll take that stronger drink, now.”
She glanced over at Rose, now completely lost to the crowd, then back at him, and nodded.
He didn’t drink often, not at all, so he insisted only on a single, handing Laura a fiver and telling her to keep the change. He got to his feet, grabbed his jacket, and slipped quietly outside and into the pub garden.
The night was pleasant, the stars for once visible over London, but he imagined most might not catch them so clearly amidst the surrounding light pollution. There were strings of warm fairy lights hanging from the brick wall that surrounded the quite large garden, a few pub benches dotted around with even less people quietly chatting amongst themselves over a beer and the odd cigarette. What encouraged him the most was the quiet, the peacefulness that greeted him as he stepped out of the pub, sitting down on one of the vacant tables just under a tree with yet more fairy lights hanging from it.
He sighed deeply, but he found he wasn’t quite fully able to breathe in all the way, like something caged his chest and prevented it from fully expanding. He took a sip of the — what he discovered was — whiskey and shuddered to feel its heat trickle down his throat, settling something that had been rising in his body all night. He looked down at his hands, quivering now although he was not cold, and swallowed thickly.
He was in love, he had known that for a long time. But tonight he had realised how terribly irrevocable it was, how awfully trapped he had made himself in his dreadful and unavoidable addiction to her, how he had known this was going to be devastating and he was going to regret it but yet hadn’t cared. And now here he sat, alone as he always was and always would be, wondering just how he might survive this in the end.
It wasn’t that he worried about the day she would no longer be with him, although that wasn’t a thought he liked to entertain. It was this horrible ache, a dullness in his bones, a contradiction to the life she inspired within him. It was twisted, it was confusing, and it was devastating.
He looked up at the stars, a universe above him that he knew and yet didn’t. Taking another sip of his whiskey, and following another subsequent involuntary shudder, he closed his eyes to the return of that hollowness in his chest. The vacuum above felt infinitely small in comparison, and he knew there was no fighting it’s torture except to grit and bear it for as long as she stayed with him, and even longer than that.
He didn’t shudder when he took a third sip of his drink.
He had been so lost in his thoughts for so long that he only realised the environment had altered when a figure sat beside him. There were less people now he realised, only one or two at a table a few away from his, but none of that seemed to matter when he saw it was Rose who had sat down next to him.
“You alright?” she asked.
“Hmm?”
She shivered, and looked down at his drink. “Bit too much back in there, yeah?”
He couldn't reply at first, but his lie found his tongue at the time that he swallowed. “Na, it’s been alright. Just needed five outside in the quiet.”
Rose grinned, a warm smile he knew well, and shivered once more. The goosebumps began to line her skin, soft hairs rising on her arms, and he glanced down at her things to see the same pattern emerging there. He unbuttoned his jacket and slipped it off, attentively hanging it over her shoulders and she looked down with a smile, pulling it tighter around her.
“Thanks,” she whispered, a soft sound that settled on the air and he closed his eyes to it, trying to still what it did to his hearts. Once more, he breathed deeply, now that he could as she sat close to him, and when he opened his eyes on his exhale he saw her looking down at the table, mulling over something in her mind.
“Are you alright?” he murmured, and she closed her eyes to that.
“Mmm. Just needed to step out — don’t like havin’ all the attention on me, you know that.”
Funny, he thought, if she knew just how much she claimed all of his attention, his thoughts and dreams, his hopes and longings, even down to his physiology and heartbeat, she would flee.
Her legs had started to bounce — anxiously or because they were cold, he didn’t know — but he found himself looking at a mole on her thigh, one he of course had never seen before. He closed his eyes once more in a desperate plea to try and stop the thoughts from drowning him, of how much he wanted to see every piece of her, to know all her moles and the feel of her skin under his fingers, to learn her and know her in a way nobody else did or ever could possibly again.
“Y’know, I remember the first time you met all my family, when we were huddled in my mum’s living room watching the telly,” she grinned, and her voice encouraged him to avert his gaze, and, thankfully, his thoughts. “Said you didn’t do domestics and all that.”
“I still don’t,” he pointed out, and she sniggered. “I have no idea how I keep finding myself in these situations so often.”
“I think you like them, really.”
“I like you, there’s a difference.”
She chuckled, “So if I’m understanding you correctly, the last of the Time Lords bends to nobody’s will except mine?”
“You understood that correctly, yes.”
Her gleeful hum in response was enough for him to let her believe he was exaggerating. After a minute or two, she spoke again.
“I used to come here all the time. Most Thursdays after work. Sometimes it’d be all of us — it was quite central for where we all worked — and sometimes it’d just be me and Mickey.”
He grimaced as she rubbed salt into the wound unknowingly. He was reluctant to admit to himself just how many hours he had spent thinking about them, of their dates in the park and stolen kisses in her lunch break, of nights spent together and mornings in love. He glanced back down at the mole on her leg and knew of course he wasn’t going to know her as nobody else did, he never could even if he did ever give in to his hearts.
“It’s like a different life,” she sighed. “I always thought this sort of stuff would hit you in your thirties, lookin’ back over your school days and realising how much had changed since then. But I’m twenty-one, and it feels like a completely different me and it was only two years ago!”
He was still while she spoke what was on her mind. He didn’t get the feeling that she regretted it so much, and he was a little relieved at that. But he thought perhaps it was more the speed of time passing that stunned her, her perspective of it all shifting and she wasn’t quite ready for it. As a Time Lord, he so wished he could slow it down for her, make it just that little bit more manageable because, truthfully, it terrified him sometimes, too.
“It’s only that you fill your life with so much that it feels that way,” he tried, and she sniffed in the cold. “It feels a bit like time passed you by because, well, it has. You didn’t even see it go, you were far too busy moving and adapting but it passed, at the same rate it always does. But you didn’t.”
She frowned, and gave him a lopsided smile. “I suppose you would give me some nonsensical explanation of time that oddly makes sense.”
“It’s what I’m here for.”
“Really?” She scrunched her nose. “I thought you were here to protect time.”
“Whoever told you that?”
She rolled her eyes with a more symmetrical smile now, her hands moving to cover her face as she attempted to hide just how funny she found his joke. “If it’s this bad at twenty-one, must be bloody awful for you.”
He inhaled sharply, making her giggle more. “The trick is not to think about it.”
“Take each day as it comes,” she reflected, and he hummed beside her in agreement. “They were right, all those adults. Everytime they said to live each day to the fullest.”
“That they were.”
And then she seemed to sadden again. After a moment, and with a quiver to her voice, she whispered,
“If only it didn’t make time pass faster that way.”
He nodded slowly in agreement, although he protested she be thinking such morose concepts on her twenty-first birthday. She began to pick at the skin around her nails, the nail polish on her thumb had chipped and he knew she must have been doing this all night, then.
“Why don’t you like your own birthdays?” he asked, realising that he never had.
She shrugged. “I used to love my birthdays. Birthday cakes, party bags, trips to the London Fields Lido and all that stuff.”
“Then what changed?”
She hesitated, and frowned. He waited while she thought, but he realised at some point she wasn’t searching for the answer, she was only debating whether to give it to him. Eventually, she swallowed, and spoke flatly,
“I met a Time Lord.”
And there it was. He felt his thoughts click into place, then, that strange sadness about her all day that he hadn’t quite been able to interpret finally making sense. It was, truthfully, his biggest regret, although he should have seen it coming, and he only gritted his teeth at his own negligence.
“Rose—”
“No, but think about it,” she insisted, and for once he found himself wanting to listen to her, to hear her worries about something he considered constantly. She seemed too intent on bearing herself to him here, in this garden, on this night, and he could only let her. “Every day I get older—”
“You’re twenty-one, that’s hardly you getting older—”
“But it is!” she retorted, a strange smile that wasn’t a smile by any means only holding back her tears now and he didn't know how they had got here, but his hearts ached to see her like this nonetheless. Her mouth hung open as if to say something else, but she seemed unable to and only let out a small croak instead.
“Hey,” he murmured, and he took the opportunity to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, curling his fingers as he dared himself to brush her cheek. “I do not want you to miss out on any of this because you’re afraid of getting older next to me.”
“M’not afraid of getting older,” she contended plainly. “I’m afraid of leaving you all alone.”
His breath was uneven as he exhaled, but he didn’t think she would have detected it. He dropped his hand back down to the table, and she sniffed wetly, seemingly annoyed by herself for some reason. She bit down on her bottom lip with her eyes closed before she opened them to find his, holding his gaze firm. He saw all of her, then, the things she didn’t want him to see in her eyes even in this light, and he knew she must be seeing all of him, too.
Because it consumed him to learn that this was how she felt. That she regretted each passing day because it was one less day — not that she got to spend with him, but that he had left to spend with somebody. The dreadful wringing of his chest at that, at knowing how much of her life and how many of her days she was spending in fear for his inevitable loneliness when that was only his worry, his concern. Rose wasn’t supposed to feel any of that, much less break her own heart every day, and he realised he must have been doing a terrible job at keeping those worries and concerns to himself. Rose only ever wanted everybody else to be okay, and now, on her twenty-first birthday, she was furious with her own mortality for getting in the way, stopping somebody she cared for so deeply from hurting.
So he had no alternative, really, when he leaned in to her this time. He just about had enough control to pause, give her the chance to pull away if she so wanted, and it seemed as though time completely stopped as he did. He could hear her breathing shallow, see the goosebumps line her neck and he took that moment, those few seconds, to learn her as he had wanted. His eyes found another mole on her collarbone, and upwards, the pulse in her neck at having him this close to her. A quiet and strained whimper on her lips, a plea, and then the feel of those lips against his.
He had always wondered how she would taste. The time he had kissed her on Satellite Five, he had only done so to take the time vortex from her, and for that his senses were mostly dulled. Now, as time slowly began to resume once more, he couldn’t taste a thing either; all he could do was feel. This overwhelming relief surging through him, his hearts beating as they should to feel this alive, and, for a moment, an assertion that nothing could tamper with his hope.
And then she gasped; her mouth opened and that’s when he could finally taste her. And he did, the tip of his tongue finally tasted home as it explored the texture of hers and everything he was learning about her he already knew. Because she was familiar, she was her, he knew her lips already and running his tongue along them told him nothing new about them but yet wanted more even still, to know how her bottom lip felt between his teeth, and he was a quick learner, picking up on the sensitive spots that would draw her moans and which of them would catch her breath in her throat.
His heightened senses had thus far only proven to be most valuable, until now, because she consumed all of him to a point where it was too much, and he had to break away, just to focus. But she didn’t hesitate to keep going, so keen was she on tasting him too, and she trailed her kisses across his cheek and along his jaw and this was new, feeling her learn him with her own senses, the moans she drew out herself at certain points on his skin.
“Rose,” he breathed, a plea and a promise in itself, and she brought their lips back together once more.
She began to shift without breaking their kiss and he felt her move one of her legs over him, soft chuckles she released onto his lips as she fumbled onto his lap on the most uncomfortable bench he could remember sitting on. But he quickly lost all conscious recognition of the world outside him, outside them, when he felt her hands move to cup his neck before her fingers slowly trailed up and through his hair. Her lips curled when he groaned and a second later so did she when she ran her nails back down. Their kiss was broken when her head rolled back to the feel of his hands on her thighs, sliding up to her waist where they held her hips close to his and in their respite, his lips found her neck and he sucked, just over her pulse, her breath catching in response. He felt her hands loosen as they became less conscious of their actions and more reflexive to her feelings and he felt her pulse drum fervently beneath his lips. With a final nip to her skin, he released her, the darkened bruise forming he could see even under this light, and pride raptured his veins to have finally claimed just a part of her as his. But then the trouble was he wanted to claim all of her as his, if she would let him, and by the way she rocked into his hold when he pulled away only confirmed that she would. As her lips began their descent once more down onto his skin, pressing sweet and messy kisses down the bridge of his nose and to his lips, he realised he couldn’t find the trouble in it at all.
He deftly slipped his jacket off her shoulders and shuddered at the speed in which her goosebumps prickled beneath his fingers, before he dragged them slowly across her shoulders and down her back, as far as her dress would allow. One hand stayed where it was, exploring the planes of her shoulder blades as they contracted with the movement of her hands, and the other travelled south and to the small of her back where he pressed, gently, until she arched into him. That move released another sound from her lips, much lower this time, much deeper and hungrier and his was only lustful in response. She tore her lips from his to bow her head to his shoulder, pausing only to catch her breath with the intent of resuming, so he peppered his kisses this time further down her neck, softening as they pressed across her shoulder until he felt her lips on his neck, her teeth grazing his skin as she matched the mark made on hers. He shivered to know she was doing the same, marking him, and he moaned into her skin as he allowed her to.
“I want you,” she breathed, he was sure she was trying to sound firm but her need strained her request. “But not here.”
He remained still as his surroundings began to settle into their rightful place and he remembered where they were. He was in no way ready to pull back, but he couldn't exactly keep going, so instead he kept his eyes closed as he followed the trail of his hands on her body, slowly tracing the curves and dips of her frame. She didn’t move either, but it seemed she too was focused only on his hands, as she had since stopped exploring him herself. To feel her in this way, to roam freely as he wished while she remained compliant and willing above him, prevented him from asking if she was sure she wanted him, and if was even a little bit more level-headed than he was at the moment, he would ask if she had really thought this through.
But all he could seem to focus on was her words, the sound of her telling him she wanted him. After that, nothing else mattered.
“Doctor,” she whispered again, and he opened his eyes to find that mole on her collarbone beneath him. He swallowed, and with considerable difficulty, and pressed his lips to it before he finally pulled away.
She cleared her throat and started to shift off of him and he spotted the other table glance over in their direction. Right, he thought, scratching the back of his neck and neatning his — he was sure — disheveled hair. Public decency, must remember that one.
Rose was grinning sheepishly by the time she settled down next to him, and for a moment, neither looked at the other. He swallowed, now that he was finally able to, and ran his palms over his trousers to neaten them down just a little. Rose tugged on the hem of her dress to bring it a bit further down her thighs and he swallowed again to see her legs bare, having only very recently felt them beneath his hands, and the tips of his fingers tingled at the memory.
Rose let out a breathy laugh, then, and he glanced over to her just at the time she looked up at him. She drank him in, her eyes flickering across his face, but he couldn’t quite do the same; he found himself transfixed only on her eyes.
“C’mere” she grinned, licking her thumb and rubbing it across his cheek. “You’ve got lipstick all over you.”
He nodded, before he gestured to her. “Funnily enough, so do you.”
She pressed her fingers to the side of her lips and giggled while he fumbled around in his suit pockets for some makeup wipes, and then she brought them down to her neck to press gently into the bruise beginning to form over her pulse.
“Bit more worried about everyone seeing that.”
He raised his eyebrow. “Didn’t hear any complaints from you when I was giving it to you.”
“Nope,” she affirmed smugly. She tugged at the wipes when he pulled them out, taking one and began cleaning up his face. “Think I’ve got some concealer in my bag, anyway.”
“Your bag’s inside.”
“Bugger,” she cursed, and he chuckled. “Reckon you could go and grab it for me before anyone sees?”
He pointed to his neck. “I think we just have to own this one, Rose.”
“It’s a lot easier to own it when everyone doesn’t know you.”
“It’s only you they know.”
“Right,” she beamed, “so you won’t have a problem going and getting my bag then, will you?”
“Bugger,” he cursed, and she chuckled.
He watched her, then, the golden lights shimmering in her eyes as she smiled, her lips still a little swollen and hair messier now. She wasn’t aware of him watching her, he didn’t think, so she was caught off guard when he began to smooth down the strands, running his fingers softly through her hair to bring back a bit of order. As he did, his gaze remained fixed on her, the shy way she kept herself still and allowed him to sort her out, to fix her back up as if she needed fixing in the first place.
“You are…” he tried, but the word was lost on his lips. He had no way of surmising her beauty at that moment, and he supposed that's why people looked to poetry or song in times where words weren’t adequate to suffice.
Perhaps she didn’t need any of that, because she seemed to understand exactly what he was trying to say, or at least the depth of it. She took his hand then, which had since frozen in his quest to articulate just how captivating she was, and brought it to her lips. She kissed each of his fingers deliberately, carefully, attentively, her eyes closed as she spoke the words caught in her throat on his skin and all he could do was listen.
God, she was divine. He felt the way his hearts completely responded to her alone, their slight quickening as her lips brushed his skin and the harder they beat for her when she released him. He was sure they had a song about them, her song, and he could have them converse with her for as long as he lived.
“What are you thinking?” she murmured, and he had been mostly — no, completely — unaware of her watching him. He wasn’t quite ready yet to translate his hearts’ intent, so instead he leaned back into her, touching his lips to the corner of hers to kiss her where he was hesitant to pull back, captured instead by a sweetness that lingered on her skin. When her lips curled beneath his, he finally did pull away; not too far though, just enough for her to hear the words he didn’t speak.
Neither said anything, for a while. Not through their searching for something to say, but simply because this was unlike them to be so close and they were familiarising themselves with it.
He was falling in love with it.
“You know,” she whispered with a smile, “I don’t think I’ve ever known you to say so little.”
“Would you prefer it if I were babbling away instead?”
“God, no,” she chuckled as he pulled away. “Think I can safely say that’s one of my preferred ways you’ve made use of your tongue.”
He raised his eyebrow and her cheeks flushed pink furiously.
“Oh my god, no! I didn’t mean— not that!”
He raised his other eyebrow and, after quickly searching his eyes, she raised hers.
“Wow, okay so maybe that, if you’re—”
He chuckled, and kissed her shoulder before climbing to his feet. “I’m going to go and get your bag.”
“Or—” she grabbed his hand to stop him “— how about we both go back to the TARDIS and pick up where we left off?”
He snorted. “No chance am I missing your drunken Steps performance.”
“Not even for a good shag?”
He stilled to hear her say it, and only then did it occur to him that that was where this was heading. It was sobering, but he couldn’t say in any way it was repellent — not at all — only completely unbelievable.
“Oh god—” she slapped her hands to her face “—you didn’t— that’s not what.. what you— oh my god you didn’t say that’s what you wanted—”
“Rose,” he stressed, although gently, pulling her hand away as he crouched down in front of her. He tried to look at her, peering up from underneath her, but she wouldn’t look back at him. “I don’t think we’d be fooling anybody if I said I didn’t want that, too.”
She nodded firmly, still unable to look him in the eye. He rubbed his thumb over her fingers as they rested firmly in his, still a little nervous was she while he was completely certain.
“But it’s not all I want.”
“Yeah?” she said as she chewed her bottom lip. He nodded, and she paused for a moment, hesitant, before she spoke. “But…”
And then it was lost on her, either the rest of that sentence or her confidence to say it. Her fingers began to fidget in his, and he loosened his hold but not entirely, simply only allowing her the freedom to dwell without letting her drift entirely.
“But what?” he probed.
She looked even further down now, her chin tucked to her chest. “Wither and die, and all that.”
Ah yes, he grimaced. That.
The truth was, of course that’s all he could think about. And he regretted saying that to her every day since he had, because it shouldn’t have been her problem and yet he had made it her problem. By only showing her how much it anguished him, she had taken it upon herself to fix it for him, only to realise that she couldn’t. Nobody could, and for that, she couldn’t simply rest and allow herself to be happy while he only awaited misery. He wondered, then, if that was why she was so hesitant — not because she didn’t want this with all her heart, but because he had given her reason to believe he was petrified for his own survival, for a future of solitude without her but it was specifically that last part that tortured him now.
Without her. How could she possibly begin to resolve her heartache when she worried tirelessly over something she couldn’t control? He had to unburden her, assure her that he wasn’t scared for him, when truthfully he felt sick by his awaited grief. So for that, he bent his head to kiss her knee, and swore to inherit all her anxieties himself and free her of them.
“I know you’re a whole twenty-one-years-old now, but I don’t see you withering anytime soon.”
She didn’t laugh, but he still smiled reassuringly, intent on fulfilling his promise.
“But I will, one day,” she countered, and he fought back a sigh.
“Are you always this miserable on your birthday?”
“Doctor!” she pleaded, but she was beginning to smile despite herself. “This is serious!”
The worst part was that he had had this exact argument with himself, time and time again, only he was normally on her side himself. But it had all changed when he had heard her tell him she wanted him; up until then, those arguments with himself were a response to the very hypothetical situation she might want him, but now that she actually did, he found himself quite unable to see her side now.
“Alright, alright,” he held up his hands in defeat. “You’re right.”
She didn’t exactly bask in it, but he knew he wasn’t about to give up anytime soon. So he perched himself down next to her, the picnic bench groaning as he settled his weight. A silence extended between them and he watched as Rose played with her ring, fiddling about with it in the interlude as she tried to find her words. But as the silence passed and she remained quiet, he realised perhaps she had nothing to say unprompted, so he asked a question he was sure he never would in the hope that she might finally release herself.
“What do you want?” he whispered.
She hesitated even still, before her breath carried her answer in a sigh. “You.”
He could have her say it over and over again and never tire of it; perhaps that serenely restful truth caused the words to tumble from his lips so desperately. “You have me. Christ knows why you want me out of anyone else in the whole bloody universe, but whatever you want is yours.”
Perhaps it was the slight inflection on just the right word, or perhaps it was all of them together, but he felt her somewhat loosen beside him. Determined though he was, he was misplaced to hear himself say it, something he only ever imagined might terrify her now only somehow consoling her.
“This is… mad,” she shuddered with a smile. “Do you know how long I’ve wanted this?”
“I can take an educated guess.”
“And you really want this too?”
He shrugged. “Probably— I don’t know, haven’t really thought it through.”
She whacked his arm with a chuckle she couldn’t quite suppress. “Oh my god—“
“Rose,” he whispered, urged perhaps, and she all but stilled completely to hear him say her name in such a way. He turned to look at her but she had closed her eyes, so he took her hand, small and fragile and soft as it was, and started to settle the ache in his fingers by running them across her skin. So warm, even if she didn’t think so in the cool April chill, and the softness against his, coarse and tired, was sublime.
“Why me?”
“Why you, what?”
“You said I could have anyone in the whole universe, well what about you? You’re a Time Lord,” she breathed the name of his race with such wonderment while he only regretted it, but he kept still. “And you’re the last one! You have literally all of time and space to choose from, why would you choose somebody with such a short life span— somebody who you can’t exactly share the rest of your life with or even a substantial part of it. Sixty years, that’s all I have! That’s all we’ll have!”
“This is a bit like talking about breaking up before you’ve even gotten together,” he pointed out, and she grinned again despite herself at that, and it only seemed to frustrate her that he joked when she searched for an answer much more reassuring. But the fact was, it would seem she had thought about this, and perhaps had even used it to convince herself he didn’t want her in return, which was utterly absurd to him. Joking with her wasn’t seeming to do the trick, lightening the mood in the hopes of lightening her worry was proving to serve no end to her own perceived stalemate, and she wasn’t just taking him at his word and allowing herself this.
So he bent his head to kiss the ball of her shoulder and he lingered there, breathing her in, unable to stop himself from kissing the same spot again. He needed saving from this, he realised, because kissing her seemed entirely unpreventable since he had allowed himself to only minutes ago, and right now she needed his reassurance.
“I’ve seen it all, Rose. Nine hundred years of travelling, I’ve met some spectacular people. But you have something on me that I can’t describe, and I know for a fact it’s irreversibly binding. I know, because I feel it in the way you smile, the sound of your laugh, I know I don’t stand a chance when you say my name as you giggle and I’m a complete lost cause when you touch me in any way. What I’m trying to say is I’ve met so many people in this universe, from so many corners of it across so many ages and none of them have ever given me something so completely tangible to hold on to.” He frowned, realising how he must sound completely bonkers, and he wasn’t exactly the greatest romantic of his time, but he really was limited by his words in describing what she was to him, so he settled instead on one final, simple sentiment. “You’re everything.”
He sniffed, because it sounded so terribly feeble and uninspired, and pulled away. She had been watching him as he spoke his mind, perhaps thinking he was an absolute nutter, but her palm touched his cheek and she leant forwards, brushing her lips to his and only holding on to time, savouring each passing second in this point in time and he felt how overwhelming it was, even to him. All the seconds passed, all the ones following it were immeasurable, literally, and for only a few of them, just one or two, they kissed. When she pulled away, he found himself wondering how he could possibly not chase more of those seconds.
“And don’t even get me started on that,” he breathed, and she giggled delightfully.
“You know, when you told me you were coming tonight, I thought maybe I might be lucky enough to hear you tell me I look beautiful—“
“Which I still haven’t done,” he chastised.
“— I never imagined any of this might happen, not for a second.”
“You didn’t?” he retaliated. “I was spending my day hoping that I could just survive it — and I have to say, there was a moment when your mother was telling me about Bev’s one night stand where I really, honestly, thought I might not.”
“And yet, you stayed,” she grinned, somewhat smugly and a little sweetly. “And you hate domestics!”
“I could get used to them,” he shrugged, and she only looked back at him in surprise. “Well, okay, I could learn how to tolerate them.”
“For me?” she said, still a little in disbelief.
“I told you, anything in the universe, time and space, all of it, is yours,” he assured. “If that includes family gatherings and ‘life admin’ days, then so be it.”
“Christmas dinner?”
“I’m there.”
“Even Mum’s fiftieth birthday bash?”
“Even that.”
“Christenings, baby showers, all that stuff, too?”
“If Charlie pops out any more kids, you bet I’ll be meeting them all.”
Rose scoffed, “Who are you and what have you done to the Doctor!”
“S’what you’ve done to me,” he corrected.
“It’s what domestics have done to you.”
“No, no, it’s definitely you.”
The sound of these giggles in particular, the ones where she was endearingly timid as he all but worshiped her, were entrancing; a new world he had yet to explore lay in their sound and he was a traveller, after all. It was far too tempting, she was far too tempting, and her darkened eyes as she looked at him here and now held a map to a path unknown, a whole universe in itself and he was ready to be lost in this one.
Her eyes flickered to his lips and she licked hers almost straight after, before she met his gaze once more and they were somehow even darker now. He found himself falling before he had even let go; their noses touched and her hand on his thigh sparked, and this was ridiculous, it was completely without sense that it all should feel like this. How many times had he fallen in love, how many moments had passed like this one and yet none of them were like this one, nobody looked as she looked at him, nobody’s touch was as devilishly hypnotic and never before had his hearts drummed so mercilessly for a moment in time to pass and yet remain—
“Rose!”
They both tore away to the sound of her name being called from the door, and all at once it came back: the sounds of merriment inside, the rustle of the leaves above them, the very harsh reminder that they weren’t alone.
“We’ve been looking all over for you, your mum wants to do a speech.”
“Oh, god,” Rose groaned as Shareen trudged over to them. But her steps slowed as she got closer, until she stopped completely just before them, her mouth open as she realised what she had interrupted.
He wished, with everything he had really, to be anywhere else but here.
“Oh my god, are you two—“ she gasped, narrowing her eyes at them before she pointed at their necks. “What! is that a— have you two got hickeys?”
Rose fidgeted excessively, pulling her dress down as much as she could before slapping her hand to her neck. “Shareen— please can you go get my bag?”
She scoffed indignantly and folded her arms. “Concealer ain’t gonna cover that up— what did you do to her!” she teased at the Doctor, and he only hung his head low and desperately willed for this to be over.
“Shareen,” Rose groaned. “Please, c’mon— I got two bloody weeks of detention covering for you when it was both of us skipping science to snog our boyfriends!”
The Doctor scratched his neck and shuddered to realise he was now in a situation akin to snogging his high school girlfriend when he should be in science class. He’d always wanted the human experience but this was not so high up on his list.
“As your mate, it’s my duty to have you completely mortified on your twenty-first — but—“ she insisted, when Rose began to protest “— as your best mate, I’m going to do you this favour and help you cover up the fact that you were out here neckin’ with a bloke none of us have really met before.”
The Doctor leapt to his feet, finally deciding to remove himself from this dreadful situation, but Shareen put her hand on his chest to stop him instead.
“Nope— you stay here, you look even worse than she does,” she smirked, before turning back to Rose with a wicked grin. “Give me two mins, but if your mum finds you in the meantime then I can’t help you.”
“Nobody could,” the Doctor muttered, mostly to himself, but Shareen caught it and giggled in agreement, before she turned to head back into the pub.
“I take it back,” he insisted as Rose got to her feet, too. “None of it, you can have none of it.”
“Nope,” she grinned. She took his tie in her hand and began to fiddle with it, but the look in her eye told him she was doing this deliberately, the little minx, and, worse yet, she knew exactly what it was doing to him. But she released him from it, this torture of being in a very public place when he so very much wished that they weren’t, and stood on her tiptoes to wrap her arms around his neck and pull him down for a chaste kiss, smiling into his lips as she whispered, “No taking it back now, Time Lord.”
And it was worth it, he thought, to see a smile he hadn’t seen before. Well, that and the way she had called him “Time Lord” in a way that sent shivers down his spine. But her smile now was one where she was so completely happy and at ease, and he was quite happy indeed to bear the weight of her concerns if it meant she could enjoy her time alive.
He supposed, then, for her twenty-first birthday, he might have given her time itself.
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Unchanging
Synopsis: He was content with the simplicities life had to offer, while you sought out the world.
Pairing: Saiki Kusuo x artist!reader
Genre: Fluff, Slight Angst
Word Count: 3.6k
You first heard of him back in your second year of high school. There was nothing about Saiki Kusuo that stood out to you, but your good friend, Yumehara Chiyo, thought otherwise.
“Don’t you think Saiki looks like a prince? He’s so dreamy that I can’t keep my eyes off of him. He’s so cool and mysterious,” your friend blabbered. If by cool and mysterious, she meant cold and aloof, then you completely agreed.
Even the popular pretty girl, Teruhashi Kokomi, seemed enraptured by him, despite Saiki’s unwillingness to shower her any attention like every guy in school. She never told you about her crush on him, but it was obvious through her body language alone that she was smitten by the pink-haired boy.
You didn’t understand their fleeting infatuation for someone they hardly knew - never experienced the feeling of falling hard for someone from the depths of your soul that they were the only person you could think about. And you were perfectly content with that. You had bigger dreams to achieve than a small high school romance that wasn’t guaranteed to last long anyway.
The Okinawa school trip was an outing that all the second years in PK Academy were looking forward to, you included. Although you had a feeling that your friends, Chiyo and Kokomi, had different intentions for tagging along.
They must have been so elated that the three of you ended up in the same group with the boy they liked.
You carried on disregarding Kokomi and Chiyo’s painfully obvious antics to spend time with their beloved prince charming until later that evening when you decided to take a walk outside the hotel alone. You convinced yourself that a late-night stroll would be an enjoyable pastime, but really, you wanted to get away from the love-struck fantasies of your two friends who were oblivious of the fact that they were both pursuing the same boy.
You don’t know how long you’ve been wandering around, but by the time you returned, the hotel had disappeared from your sight. Two recognizable figures stood by a large hole torn on the ground. A battered ship had risen from the gap where the building used to be.
Toritsuka Reita from Class 2-2 stood next to your pink-haired group member while Saiki had a hand directed at the ship, indicating that he was the one causing it to float midair. Your jaw dropped in disbelief at the sight before you.
Saiki turned his head in your direction as if he knew you were there all along. He kept his usual blank composure, although you could recognize the wary look in his eyes as he stared at you. Toritsuka panicked upon the realization that you were there to witness the whole scene.
You didn’t know how you should've reacted when the two boys told you of their psychic powers.
“I won’t tell a soul,” you promised.
‘I know,’ Saiki’s voice echoed into your mind.
The rest of the trip went by smoothly after that incident. Kokomi subsequently spoke out about the crush she had on Saiki, and Chiyo announced that she had fallen for Kaidou Shun.
You shook your head in wonder at the orange-haired girl. It was astonishing how quickly she was able to abandon her feelings for one boy and move on to someone else so quickly.
You realized that love was brief and ever-changing like the ticking seconds on a clock. There was no point in wasting time on such a fickle emotion when the only thing you would devote yourself to were your ambitions for the future.
Nevertheless, a subconscious bond had been formed between you and Saiki after you learned his secret.
You shared a glance with the psychic from afar as Kokomi relayed to you the dream she had of the boy she liked.
He was kinder and a lot less indifferent than you originally thought. Saiki wouldn’t admit it, but you would notice the subtle acts he performed to help out a troubled stranger and the small deeds he initiated to prevent harm from coming across the people around him.
You finally acknowledged Saiki as a friend after he deliberately shared his umbrella with you during a particularly rainy day.
‘Good grief. I was feeling generous today, so this is nothing. Just make sure to come to school prepared next time,’ he had told you after you first rejected his help in worry of troubling him.
You found out much later that he could have stopped the rain with his abilities.
The empty café was tranquil save for the scratching of your pencil as you scribbled on your sketchbook. Saiki sat across from you, paying you no attention just as you did to him. His usual stoic expression was abandoned as he blissfully devoured his coffee jelly.
“I have a dream. After high school, I’ll travel around the world for a bit. I’ll join a bunch of art competitions and win a bunch of awards. Then eventually, I’ll go to an art school in New York so I can major in Illustration. And maybe I might even make a best-seller manga one day,” you mused.
‘Isn’t it a little too early for us to think about the future?’ Saiki retorted.
“Maybe. But I’ve had this dream for as long as I can remember.”
Art class was the subject you looked forward to the most in school. Not only because you excelled in many art mediums, but also because you took pride in the techniques you honed over the years of endless practice.
For the day’s lesson, you were to pair up with one person in the class and draw each other’s portraits. You casually looked around the room in search of anyone available.
From the corner of your eye, you noticed Kokomi rushing up to Saiki with an excited smile as she called out, “Saiki, do you want to-” a majority of the boys in class crowded around her before she could say her piece. Saiki walked up to you instead, asking if you wanted to pair up with him.
You glanced briefly at Kokomi, feeling a tad bit guilty for stealing her choice of partner while she was being surrounded by her group of fans hoping that she would choose one of them. But you couldn’t bring yourself to reject the pink-haired boy’s request.
Taking a seat from across each other, you adjusted your easel so you could get a better view of Saiki’s face. Despite the red tint dusting your cheeks from the intimacy of his peering gaze, you couldn’t bring yourself to look away from him. You perceived for the first time that Saiki was actually quite good looking.
You looked down at your page so you could sketch his appearance: the antennae on his head, his green glasses, soft pink hair, slender neck, smooth lips, chiselled face, sharp eyes. You looked up to take a quick peek at him again.
The constant blinking on his impassive face made your eyes widen in amusement and you frantically placed a hand over your mouth to prevent a snort from escaping.
‘Why are you laughing?’
“Because you’re blinking so much that it looks ridiculous,” you explained with a chuckle.
‘I have to keep on blinking so my x-ray vision resets. I’m trying to get a look at your face.’
You let out another coy giggle despite the heat rushing to the tips of your ears. He looked down at his paper to continue his piece with a warm smile barely present on his face.
You concentrated on your own illustration, marking down his affectionate expression before Saiki could return to his blank face, and showing it off as soon as you finished.
‘Not bad. Now take a look at mine.’
He flipped his paper over, exhibiting an intricate and beautiful portrait. The focused expression he depicted on your face while you drew him looked so alluring. You almost didn’t recognize it as your own, even though it was practically a mirror image.
"This looks way too realistic for someone who's trying not to stand out."
'It should be fine if it's you.'
You didn't understand what he meant, but his words caused butterflies to flutter in your stomach.
‘I need your help,’ A familiar voice spoke in your mind.
You jumped in surprise at the unexpected appearance of the pink-haired boy you had grown fond of. Your sketchbook flew out of your lap, falling right at your feet.
“How did you know I was here?” You asked with a huff.
‘In case you forgot, I can hear your thoughts. I know that sometimes you like to come here to the school rooftop during lunch.’
“Oh,” you uttered. “Well, since you came all this way to see me, what can I do for you?” You raised an eyebrow in curiosity.
'I need you to help me reject Teruhashi.'
You pursed your lips in uncertainty.
"Kokomi is my friend, and as her friend, you can't expect me to hurt her feelings."
'As my friend, you can't expect me to lead her on when I don't ever intend on returning her feelings. She'll get hurt either way. All I'm asking is for you to help me avoid her so she'll get over me.’
You knew he was right, but you were still unsure of meddling in a situation you weren't a part of, especially when it involved the feelings of your close friend. You looked out the window in contemplation.
“Why are you asking me? Mikoto would be a better choice.”
‘I trust you more, so it has to be you.’
You ignored the churning in your stomach as you casually threw your hands up, giving in to his request.
“I’ll see what I can do.”
‘Thank you.’
Saiki bent down on one knee, reaching out to grab your fallen sketchbook.
“I can pick that up myself, you know, or you if you wanted to help me that badly, you could’ve done that levitation thing you always do.”
‘I know.’
He held the book out, watching you through his glasses while he knelt by your feet. A saying Chiyo once told you a long time ago reverberated at the back of your mind: “Don’t you think Saiki looks like a prince?”
You gripped the sketchbook in his hand. Saiki’s gaze burned on your orbs as your image reflected off his green lenses. Neither one of you let go, even when your fingertips brushed against one another.
“What colour are your eyes?” You wondered.
‘Violet.’
“Major in Economics at Sayftee University and major in Literature at both Komman University and Ahvraj University,” you read out Saiki's school survey. “These are all surprisingly in character for you, but do you really have no dreams beyond living an ordinary life?”
‘I’m too busy thinking of ways to stop the volcano eruption to worry about my future.’
“You have a point there. Any luck with that?” you inquired.
Saiki shook his head.
“I guess that means we’ll be second years again.”
You didn’t keep track of how long time had been looping, and you found that you didn’t really care since you were already accustomed to the familiarity of your seemingly endless high school life. You were happy, even if it meant that the dreams you’ve been chasing for so long were slipping farther away from your grasp with every day that passed.
‘No, it’s about time I put an end to this.’
Saiki’s determined expression was embedded in your mind.
Your screams of disbelief were muffled by the pillow you held against your face.
You had vowed to yourself since you were young that you wouldn’t grow attached to anyone. After all these years, you had to go back on your word just when you were about to leave.
Now was not the time. Not here. Not with him.
Kokomi and Chiyo took it upon themselves to pay you a visit after you skipped school for five days without notice. The dark circles under your eyes and your sunken face visibly worried them.
“I’m in love with Saiki,” you murmured, gazing sullenly at your blue-haired friend. “I’m sorry.”
Kokomi’s face fell, but she showed no signs of surprise.
“I already knew that. It was obvious with the way you always look at him,” she lamented. Kokomi cupped your balled fists in her hands and looked at you wistfully. “He rejected me a few days ago, so you don’t have to worry about hurting my feelings. I think you two would look good together.”
You felt tears threatening to spill over your eyes. Whether it was from relief that Kokomi accepted you so easily or pain from your unfortunate situation, you didn’t know.
“I’m leaving Japan after we graduate,” you disclosed.
A dejected silence fell upon you three until Chiyo spoke up, “For how long?”
“An indefinite amount of time.”
“Are you ever coming back?”
“I don’t know.”
Their glum faces only worsened your mood.
“Why have you been avoiding me?”
You tensed at the accusing tone directed at you. Saiki’s piercing gaze was pointed at your shrinking figure.
No matter how much time had passed since the loss of his abilities, you doubted that you would ever get used to the sound of his voice resonating out loud, or the enchanting shade of his eyes, even if they looked dangerously menacing at the moment.
“I wasn’t avoiding you. I was just busy studying for exams and doing other stuff,” you explained weakly.
Saiki’s deadpan expression indicated that he didn’t believe your lie.
After a few minutes of squirming underneath his scrutinizing gaze, you gave in and told him your worries, “I’m leaving the country soon. I think we should stop talking to each other so that it won’t be so hard for us to say goodbye.”
You pushed past him. You didn’t know where your feet planned on dragging you, but you figured anywhere was fine so long as you could get away from him.
The familiar warmth of Saiki’s hand wrapped around your own, stopping you from taking another step away. You didn’t dare turn around as you felt your heart thumping wildly.
“I won’t ever ask this of anyone else, so I’m begging you not to push me away,” he pleaded. He placed your hand over his chest, giving away the heavy pulsing of his heartbeat.
You could never say no to him.
Memories of the last few years ran through your mind as you smiled at the nostalgia. You took one final glance at your high school building before turning your back on it, striding towards the exit.
You stopped at the sight of a familiar figure standing under the shade of a cherry blossom tree. Saiki must have known that you were staying much later after the graduation ceremony, all thanks to his restored powers.
‘Good grief. Were you really planning on leaving without saying goodbye?’ His voice resounded in your head.
You didn’t respond as you watched the wind blow through his hair, the sun illuminating the affectionate smile on his face, the violet obscured by his green glasses, and the petals dancing around the two of you as they fell to the ground. The timing was right. The mood was right. Everything was right.
He rubbed the back of your hand while you reached out to intertwine your fingers with his. The warmth that radiated off his skin felt like home.
He knew, and you knew that he did. After all, you could never hide your secrets from a psychic, no matter how hard you tried. However, you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him how you felt.
“Goodbye,” you pulled away from Saiki.
What was the point of confessing your feelings to someone you would never see again?
Paris, France was one of your destinations out of many. Most people romanticized the capital as the City of Love, but the only reason you were even there in the first place was to visit the Louvre, the world’s largest art museum.
Influenced by the art and the romantic ambience, you sketched out the scenery around you, deliberating how you could embody the city on paper. If you were to draw a picture of love, what would you envision?
Maybe, it would look like pink locks tousled by the spring breeze, or the reflection of your eyes searching for violet orbs through tinted green glass. It might have been the lingering warmth on the fingertips of someone who trusted you enough to share their deepest secret, or the gentle smile that was reserved only for you during the most intimate of moments.
Your love was constant and unchanging. You realized that now. No matter how much time had passed or how many countries you visited, you always found yourself thinking about home.
Ever since you were a young student in junior high, you had hated the thought of giving up on your dreams to pursue a flighty, insignificant relationship. Six years ago, you threw away your chance at love to focus on your aspirations. There was no point in thinking back on what might have been. You shouldn’t have.
You made a name for yourself through the many art competitions you joined, winning a few awards here and there. A while back, you finished your Bachelor's Degree in Illustration at a famous art school in New York. Things were coming together quite nicely.
Your high school days almost seemed like a lifetime ago. The memories that used to be the center of your universe, the laughter you shared with your friends, and a not so ordinary boy with psychic powers were at the back of your mind. Everyday life without the only person you've ever loved became the norm for you.
You recently got a job offer from a famous publishing company in Japan after you posted a short comic that blew up in popularity. The editor in chief sealed the deal with you after you sent him a promising draft for a manga you had planned out.
It had been years since you’ve been to the country, but your return and the nostalgic surroundings brought back old recollections that made you feel like you were a teenager again.
The chief took it upon himself to give you a tour around the company, showing you the work environment and the employees. He guided you through the different floor levels, offices and workrooms, and acquainted you with the higher-ups. But he had yet to introduce the editor you would be working with.
"There he is."
The chief led you towards the figure of a man who had his back turned to you. The pink tuft of hair on his head and the silly-looking antennae shaped into joysticks poking out of his scalp were noticeably familiar. But you couldn’t believe it.
He turned around, green-tinted eyes boring into yours with the same neutral expression you used to see every day. Even when you had anticipated who it was, you couldn’t help the breathless gasp that escaped your lips.
"This is Saiki Kusuo. He will be the editor in charge of overseeing your work,” the chief introduced to you.
You took the hand Saiki held out for you, shaking it courteously. His blank expression didn’t fade, but his eyes softened under your gaze. The warmth on his grip was just as comforting as you remembered, like the welcoming embrace for a loved one returning home.
Neither one of you let go.
"Well, since it's already after work hours, you guys should grab dinner and get to know each other. You'll be working closely for a while, after all," the chief suggested before leaving you and Saiki alone.
A hushed silence washed over both of you as the world disappeared before your sight. The image of a cherry blossom tree on a sunny spring day was evoked in your mind.
He sat next to you in a secluded booth of the café you used to frequent, away from prying eyes.
"What happened to majoring in Economics and Literature?" you asked.
Your body was angled in his direction while you engaged him in conversation. Despite the many years apart, you and Saiki had fallen back to the easygoing relationship you once shared.
'I finally had time to think about my future, and I realized that this is what I wanted.'
“You wanted to be a manga editor like your dad?” you prompted.
‘Not quite.’
Saiki was composed as usual as he turned to face you.
'I have a dream. After you accomplished your goals, we would find each other again and spend the rest of our lives together. And maybe we might even make a best-seller manga one day,’ he mused.
Your heart was beating rapidly in your chest. The words you couldn’t bring yourself to say on the day of your graduation poured out unthinkingly from your throat.
“I love you.”
He placed a hand on the back of your neck, closing the distance between you.
‘I know.’
Your lips crashed into his, moulding perfectly as they moved against one another. You gripped his shoulders, pulling him in as he snuck an arm around your waist. Your eyelids fluttered shut, relishing in the sweet sensation of his taste.
You only pulled away minutes after to catch your breath. His forehead leaned against yours, the tip of your noses barely skimming each other. The look of adoration in his eyes revealed that he felt the same way.
No matter how long he waited, your love for each other was unchanging.
#saiki x reader#saiki k x reader#saiki kusuo x reader#saiki#saiki k#saiki kusuo#the disaster of psi kusuo saiki#saiki kusuo no ψ nan#the disastrous life of saiki k.#saiki no psi nan
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[CN] Gavin’s 2021 Birthday R&S
🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for an R&S which has not been released in EN! 🍒
[ This was released on 24 July 2021 ]
[ Chapter One: Model Aircraft Competition ]
The cicadas outside the window are clamorous, and the dark green trees cover the blazing sun, casting shady and cooling patches.
This is an incredibly ordinary late afternoon. The summer vacation is about to arrive, and the classroom is filled with the buzzing chatter of students, as rowdy as usual.
Gavin is asleep on the seat next to the window. Sunlight passes through the crevices of leaves and linger on his shoulders, bright and indolent. However, he isn’t actually sleeping, and the conversation between his deskmate and the student in front of him drift to his ears clearly.
“Hey, are you going for that model aircraft competition the teacher mentioned a few days ago?”
“I heard all the middle schoolers in our city will be participating. Those who get prizes will have extra marks, and the person who gets first place can visit the Aviation Headquarters!”
“Then again, you’ll need the capabilities to win. If you're participating, I’ll watch.”
“Hehe, you speak as though the person who lags behind in every subject can bag a trophy.”
The two of them attack each other with taunting remarks. After lapsing into a moment of silence, they suddenly turn their gazes to Gavin simultaneously.
Gavin’s deskmate pokes his arm and calls out to him.
“Gavin, you aren’t asleep, are you?”
The figure wearing a blue and white school uniform remains plopped on the desk, unmoving. A slightly muffled response drifts from him.
“What is it?”
Gavin’s deskmate and the student sitting in front of him look at each other, then speak excitedly.
“Do you know about that recent model aircraft competition?”
Gavin lets out a “mm”.
“Aren’t you going to participate?”
“We had a discussion about it, and felt that in the entire class, you’re the only one with the capabilities to win a prize. The others are just a bunch of useless troops, and they’d be of no use even if they went.”
Gavin stirs slightly. His deskmate looks at him with anticipation. In the end, he simply cushions his head using the other arm.
“Not interested.”
“Huh?”
His deskmate stares at the back of his head in utter disbelief.
“Your dad’s a military officer, and you’ve seen more real planes since young as compared to the number of models we’ve played with. This competition is basically made for you.”
Gavin doesn’t respond. In the sunlight, a few strands of hair on the back of the youth’s head stick up disobediently, clearly showing that he isn’t in the best of moods.
At this moment, the dismissal bell rings. Along with the cheers from students, the classroom erupts into a state of chaos.
Gavin finally sits up. After stuffing the English book he used as a pillow into his sling bag, he turns around and leaves the classroom.
After the figure vanishes at the door, Gavin’s deskmate turns to the student sitting in front of him, expressing puzzlement.
“Why do you think Gavin doesn’t want to participate? A few days ago, I saw him at the bookstore outside school buying an Aeromodelling Atlas.”
The student in front of him shrugs, signalling that he has no idea.
“Maybe he got bored.”
[ Chapter Two - Proof ]
When Gavin reaches home, his mother has yet to return.
Placing his bag down, he suddenly notices a new post-it note on the fridge. On it, there’s a menu written in delicate handwriting: Stir-fried tomato and scrambled eggs, fried stuffed tofu, stir-fried duck with pineapples.
There’s a smiley face drawn on the last line, and the words “The dishes Little Gav loves to eat” are written at the side.
Only then does Gavin remember - his birthday is coming.
Every year, his mother would start preparations way in advance. It’s as if in her eyes, this particular day is even more worthy of celebration as compared to all other festivals.
And this year is no exception.
The post-it note is a little crooked. Gavin uses a fridge magnet to straighten it, then returns to his room.
The small room is covered with traces of youth. There are posters of basketball celebrities on the walls, and there's a globe and a few books on the desk.
After hesitating for a while, Gavin pulls open his bag and takes out a pamphlet. On it, there’s information pertaining to the model aircraft competition.
He reads the information seriously. A breeze blows the the white curtains, and the lights and shadows of dusk outline the youth’s straightened back profile, casting specks of light on a book. The words “Aeromodelling Atlas” can be vaguely seen.
While reading, he suddenly recalls the words his deskmate said-
“Your dad’s a military officer, and you’ve seen more real planes since young as compared to the number of models we’ve played with. This competition is basically made for you.”
His grip on the pamphlet abruptly tightens. Gavin rolls it into a ball and tosses it on the table, getting up in frustration and leaving the room.
Everything in the living room is clean and tidy. The school uniform he had changed out of is drying in the balcony. The large uniform drifts with the wind, and the air is filled with the fragrance of soap.
Even though there are clear traces of diligence and attentiveness, certain things can still be seen.
Model robots and clay crafts are displayed neatly on the left side of the built-in cupboard. However, there’s nothing on the right side.
All the cups and plates form a complete set. However, one cup is placed upside down on the cup rack. Although it has been a long time since it was last used, its owner wipes it spotlessly every day.
It’s as if the person she’s waiting for has always been around. Disappointment has repeated itself in endless cycles, but she continually harbours hope.
Gavin ignores such traces. He walks over to the fan in the living room, furrowing his brows as he squats down.
This fan has been spoilt for several days. Each time it’s turned on, it releases a strange clacking sound, akin to a heavy wooden door being pushed open with great effort.
-
When Wardia steps in with a bag of groceries, she sees Gavin half-squatting and studying that fan which has been broken for numerous days.
She calls out to Gavin.
“Little Gav, the fan is spoilt. I’ll ask a worker to fix it tomorrow. Don’t mind it.”
“When you called yesterday, the worker said that he wouldn’t be free these days. He probably won’t be able to drop by tomorrow either.”
Gavin pushes the outer shell of the fan lightly, and the white netted cover stirs gently, letting out a muffled buzz.
“No need to call for a worker. I can fix it.”
Wardia is stunned for a moment. Then, her eyes crinkle into a smile.
“When did our Little Gav become so incredible?”
Gavin stands up, his tone very certain.
“Leave it to me.”
Wardia casts a contemplative glance at Gavin. He’s going to be 14 soon. At this age, children tend to think about a lot of things, and may be exceptionally sensitive in certain areas.
Since a particular point in time, he had already been working hard and learning how to become a man with an indomitable spirit.
She can only nod.
“Okay. Mommy bought green beans today. I’ll prepare you a cooling soup later to alleviate the summer heat.”
With this, Gavin responds by heading to the kitchen to get a bowl to soak the beans for his mother.
The green coloured beans are immersed in water. Some float and some sink, and their colours are clear.
Wardia looks at Gavin. After a moment of hesitance, she speaks in a light-hearted and leisurely tone.
“Little Gav... Daddy took up an urgent mission recently and was sent to a very faraway place. He might not be around for your birthday this year again...”
“Mm, I’ve got it.”
Gavin’s tone is very indifferent. It’s as though whether that person returns or not has nothing to do with him at all. Wardia wants to say something, but after opening her mouth, she turns around, forcefully suppressing her emotions.
Gavin carries the bowl with both hands. When he sees his mother’s back, he suddenly grows quiet.
Why harbour hope when one clearly knows the ending?
After dinner, Gavin returns to his room. The pamphlet is still on the desk. He pauses for a moment, then reaches out to pick it up.
He’s going to be 14 years old soon.
Becoming one year older is something his mother looks forward to even more than he does. Because of this, she feels even guiltier with every year of his father’s absence.
Even though he knows he doesn’t need that person to wish him a happy birthday, he hopes that his mother can be a little more genuinely happy on his birthday.
Gavin makes a decision.
He smoothens the pamphlet on the desk. In a serious manner, he fills up the registration form on the back with his name. When he sets down the pen, his eyes sparkle with a certain determination.
He wants to participate in the model aircraft competition, and he wants to get first place.
He wants to use something he likes to prove to that person that he has already grown up, and has become even more incredible than he imagined.
“I’m going to prove to you that I can still do it without Evol.” He repeats resolutely once more.
If that person left this house back then because of how small and weak Gavin was, he’d definitely have a slightly different answer when he sees the current Gavin.
He’d definitely want to... return and see this family.
[ Chapter Three - Wings Waiting To Fly ]
Aeromodelling books and scattered materials are piled up in Gavin’s room. When Wardia enters while carrying chilled green bean lily bulb soup, she sees Gavin sitting cross-legged on the floor, using a vernier calliper to measure the wingspan.
Wardia carefully steps across the spare parts, placing the bowl on the desk.
“Little Gav, why are you so diligent in this competition? You’ve been fiddling around in your room for several days.”
Gavin wipes sweat off his forehead.
“This is a really large-scale competition. The teacher says that the person in first place will get to visit the Aviation Headquarters. I want to have a look.”
He’s determined not to tell his mother the true reason.
Wardia nods, giving him a “work hard” gesture.
“In that case, Little Gav must continue working hard and strive to be a guest at the aviation base.”
Wardia pauses, then looks at Gavin seriously.
“But Little Gav, even though this is a very rare opportunity, you must remember that no matter what happens at the end, Mommy will be happy for you. Because I know that you’re doing something you like, that you’ve worked hard, and have obtained happiness in the process. And that’s enough.”
Gavin nods.
“I know.”
“Oh yes, Mommy also wants to use this chance to discuss your birthday plans with you.”
Wardia grins while posing a question.
“What does Little Gav want as a birthday present this year? And what kind of pattern do you want your birthday cake to have?”
“Do you want to invite your classmates over to celebrate with you?”
Wardia prattles on endlessly as she counts the plans she has for his birthday on her fingers. That pair of beautiful eyes are layered with gentleness, but also hide a twinge of guilt.
It’s as though she’s exerting her all to ensure that other aspects are done even better to make up for that guilt.
After Gavin ponders for a while, he shakes his head.
“I’ve already grown up, so there isn’t anything I specially want as a birthday gift.”
“I just want Mommy to always be happy.”
When Wardia hears Gavin’s words, she’s taken aback for half a second. Her eyes stir slightly.
After this, she walks over to hug Gavin gently. Gavin has no idea why his mother is suddenly doing this, but he puts down the blueprint of the aircraft wing, reaching out to return his mother’s hug.
Wardia speaks softly yet resolutely.
“Little Gav, even if you become an adult in the future and become a man with an indomitable spirit, your birthday is still an important thing.”
She pauses.
“Because this day doesn’t just belong to you. It also belongs to everyone who loves you, and the people who have prepared and looked forward to this day for a very long time.
After his mother leaves the room, Gavin looks at the blueprint of the plane which is just beginning to take shape. He repeats what his mother said softly.
“It also belongs to everyone who loves you, and the people who have prepared and looked forward to this day for a very long time...”
Those clear eyes seem to be filled with an even greater determination to win the prize. He picks up the vernier calliper and continues measuring the wingspan.
[ Chapter Four: Heading In Another Direction ]
There’s only one week till Gavin’s birthday.
That huge pile of materials in Gavin’s room has turned into a beautiful white plane with blue wings and smooth lines.
At the competition venue, that white aircraft model ascends, spins around, flies upside down, and lands under Gavin’s control. Everyone is astonished at how perfect it is.
Without any reservations, Gavin wins first place.
The person handing out prizes is a certain officer from an aviation base. He places a small plane-shaped badge into Gavin’s hand.
“You referenced the air freighter Y2251 for the style, didn’t you? I could tell from a glance.”
Gavin nods, and the officer pats him on the shoulder.
“You reconstructed it very close to the original. Being this outstanding at such a young age, I believe your father will definitely be proud of you when he knows about this.”
Gavin lifts his head sharply, staring at the officer.
“Do you know him?”
The officer who handed him the award chuckles.
“I met him at an international meeting in the past. He’s a very outstanding soldier.”
Gavin doesn’t speak further. He lowers his eyes, tightly gripping that badge which symbolises the sky.
-
At night, Gavin sits at the edge of the window, lifting the small aviator badge to his eyes, staring at it meticulously under the moonlight.
The badge isn’t large, but the wings on it have been engraved vividly. It’s as though in the very next second, it could break free from the heavy fetters of metal, flying freely towards the horizon.
Gavin looks at it for a very long time, then reluctantly shifts his gaze away from the badge.
The summer evening breeze passes by his lapel, bringing with it a cooling and refreshing scent. The trees in the courtyard are very tall, and the sprigs of blossoming plants stretch to the edges of the window, touching his ankle.
This is the first time he has attained honour based on his own strength. Does this mean he now possesses the strength to be acknowledged by others?
He looks at the badge. Finally, his eyes crinkle into a slight smile, unintentionally revealing the wilfulness and pride that a youth should have.
Using his hands to support himself on the edge of the window, Gavin turns around and leaps back into his room. He locates a plain white envelope from his drawer, then picks up a pen. On the address line, he fills in his father’s current location, then stuffs the badge into the envelope solemnly.
After hesitating for a while, he scrunches up the envelope slightly. A few creases immediately appear on it.
Only after he leaps over the wall and heads out to slip that envelope into a mailbox at the corner of the street does Gavin release a soft sigh of relief.
This is a proof of pride, and it’s also an invitation from a youth.
An invitation for the person whom his mother cares about to return to this place, and spend a birthday together which could constitute a “reunion”.
Gavin stands in front of the mailbox, lifting his head to look at the star-studded sky.
Tonight, the Milky Way seems to be brighter than in previous nights. Sagittarius emits a resplendent light, and the bow formed by stars points towards an unknown, faraway place.
[ Chapter Five: Indentations of Growth ]
On the early morning of Gavin’s birthday, Wardia cooks him a bowl of longevity noodles, and there’s even a soft-boiled egg burrowed underneath the noodles.
“Happy birthday, Little Gav.”
“From today onwards, you’ve grown one year older.”
His mother smiles as she says her well wishes to Gavin. After he’s done eating the noodles, she holds out a measuring tape.
“Shall we measure how much taller our Little Gav has grown this year?”
“...okay.”
Gavin is slightly resigned but accustomed to it as he stands next to the pole in the corridor.
Right now, he has already grown much taller. In a serious manner, Wardia uses a pencil to draw a mark near the roof of his head.
“Our Little Gav has grown much taller. Wow, one, two, three... four centimetres.”
His mother keeps the measuring tape and Gavin steps away from the pole. There are numerous deep and light indents on the white body of the pole - traces that witness one boy’s growth each year.
"Looks like I won’t need to measure you next year. Little Gav has already grown taller than Mommy.”
Gavin immediately cuts in, his tone extremely certain.
“I’ll protect Mommy.”
Wardia taps Gavin’s forehead lightly.
“Mommy doesn’t need to be protected by Little Gav. Mommy will protect Little Gav. I’ll celebrate your birthday with you every year until you grow up.”
“What will happen after I grow up?”
His mother grins as she turns around and enters the kitchen. Her gentle voice drifts to Gavin’s ears, and sounds a little hazy.
“After you grow up, you’ll meet someone like Mommy who is willing to celebrate a lifetime of birthdays with you.”
While his mother starts busying herself to prepare Gavin’s birthday feast, Gavin decides to fix the fan in the living room.
With the successful experience of aeromodelling, Gavin picks up the instruction manual and fixes that clanking fan very quickly.
The fixed fan starts rotating to and fro in a leisurely manner, releasing a cooling wind. Gavin closes his eyes to feel the breeze, and his hair is blown up, fluttering messily.
“It’s fixed.” Gavin opens his eyes, turning his head to look at the time.
Noon passed not too long ago, and it’s still very early.
Gavin thinks for a moment, then heads into his room to retrieve the model aircraft. He sits on the steps of the courtyard.
A chunk of paint on the model aircraft cracked a few days ago. Gavin holds a small brush, slowly giving a fresh coat of paint to the tailplane.
The cicadas on the trees are noisy as always, and the brilliant sunlight filters through the leaves, falling on Gavin’s face.
While using the small brush to mend the plane with layers of paint, Gavin occasionally lifts his head towards the nearby door.
Judging by the time, he should still reach today, no matter how late it is.
Birds soar in the sky, and the sun continuously shifts to the west, until it brings twilight with it, turning into a semicircle about to be swallowed up by the horizon.
Gavin sits on the steps for a very long time, from noon till late afternoon, and until the beautiful lines on the model aircraft have been mended, laying beside him quietly.
Yet, that door doesn’t get pushed open.
A few leaves are blown by the wind, and they fall on the wings of the model aircraft. Gavin reaches out to pick the leaves up.
He grips the leaves in his palm, lowering his eyes and thinking about something unknown to anyone else.
With a sudden creak, the sound of a door opening drifts from afar, and footsteps land on Gavin’s ears.
Gavin instantly straightens up, but he quickly faces away.
The tender dusk envelops him, illuminating the slightly upturned corners of his lips.
[ Chapter Six: A Heart of Well Wishes ]
The people who pushed the door open are his maternal grandfather and grandmother.
Carrying a birthday cake, they brim with smiles as they walk towards Gavin.
His grandfather grabs Gavin into a hug.
“We wish our Little Gav a happy birthday.”
His grandmother lifts the cake, waving it at Gavin.
“Grandpa and Grandma specially bought a cake to see you, and to celebrate our Little Gav’s birthday.”
“Thanks, Grandpa and Grandma.”
Gavin receives the cake from his grandmother and heads towards the living room with them. Before walking up the steps, Gavin casts another glance at the door.
The door remains quietly caged in twilight, waiting alongside Gavin.
But even until the evening grows dark, it is never pushed open again.
Wardia notices Gavin’s abnormal silence. When she follows his gaze and looks at the door outside, she realises something.
However, Wardia doesn’t say anything. She simply pauses, then is full of smiles as she opens the cake box.
“Here’s wishing our birthday boy a happy 14th birthday!” His grandparents grin while singing the birthday song.
“Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you...”
After singing the birthday song, his mother looks at Gavin, speaking gently.
“Go on and make a wish, Little Gav.”
Gavin stares at the cake and remains silent for a while. Then, he speaks quietly in his heart.
It’s fine if that person doesn't return. It’s fine if he isn’t acknowledged. Anyway, he has celebrated his birthday today, and has grown one year older.
He can fix a fan for his mother, and can use his strength to protect this home.
So-
It’s fine.
-
After dinner, the family sits in the courtyard to enjoy the cool air.
Hearing from his mother that Gavin won the first place in the aeromodelling competition, his grandparents are extremely surprised.
“Little Gav is truly incredible. Isn’t it really difficult to build models? What reward would you like? Grandpa and Grandma will give it to you.”
“There isn’t anything I want as a reward.”
However, his grandfather is very stubborn.
“You’re still so young. How can there be nothing that you want? Just suggest something, and treat it as a gift from your Grandpa and Grandma.”
At this appropriate time, Wardia cuts in. “This is a well wish from your elders, so just accept it.”
Gavin lowers his eyes and thinks for a moment. Then, he lifts his head and responds softly.
“In that case, I want our family to be like this every year in the future.”
He pauses, his eyes carrying within them slight warmth and ease.
“We’ll eat cake together, talk together, and sing the birthday song together.”
"That’s such an easy feat. Every year in the future, Grandpa and Grandma will bring a cake and celebrate Little Gav’s birthday with your Mommy.”
“It’s a deal.”
The evening breeze blows past gently, blowing up stray hairs in front of Gavin’s forehead, revealing a pair of clear amber eyes. He turns back to the courtyard and watches as his grandparents and mother engage in small talk and laughing to their heart’s content.
This is a complete family which has been mended with love, and it has much warmth and many things to look forward to.
It encases the youth’s heart, enabling him to not feel lonely at this moment.
The Milky Way is as magnificent as always. Beneath the brilliant star-studded sky, the tree which has been growing in the courtyard for a very long time stands quietly, as though it would remain this way every year.
Cheri’s Reflections:
Imagine if the letter wasn’t sent because Gavin forgot to put stamps LOL T^T
Not-so-fun fact: Wardia died when Gavin was 15, so this is the last birthday they spent together...
And MC not reading his letter back in Loveland High and leaving him waiting for hours hurts even more now because it probably reminded him of how he waited for his father to no avail
✈️ Spreading Wings Date: here
✈️ Support the cafe by dropping by the tip jar!
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youtube
Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared
The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!
#ACLA24#ACLA24Leaders#youtube#youtube video#climate leaders#climate solutions#climate action#climate and environment#climate#climate change#climate and health#climate blog#climate justice#climate news#weather and climate#environmental news#environment#environmental awareness#environment and health#environmental#environmental issues#environmental justice#environment protection#environmental health#Youtube
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