#fragmented because i’ve been trying to explain this for a few days now and words are causing difficulties

[polari]

the first time i read the odyssey i was eight and it was an abridged version intended for younger readers. the first time my dad went to rehab i was eight and in the commotion of it nobody told me what was happening. i remember that his step was different — heavy and uneven — and that he seemed to flow in and out of himself, sometimes my father and sometimes some terrible other i wanted to hide from. and then he was gone for a while, and no one seemed sure when he would be back. it did not occur to me at this age to doubt odysseus’ course, or to question his version of events. i rooted for him, because his original failure proved he was the best of all fathers — every time i was in the path of my own father’s plough, i thought he would forget the trick of insanity and fail to see his child’s face in mine.

[unstable-samurai]

ON REFLECTION

Naoi Rei x Male Reader

word count: 7K

The room's light struggles to reach the dark corners of the apartment as you sink into the couch, tired and a little lost. The TV is off, but the screen reflects distorted fragments of you and Rei, who sits in the opposite armchair. She’s sitting cross-legged, and the expression on her face is hard to decipher. The Hello Kitty pajamas don’t match the look she’s giving you. You've known Rei since high school, and now you've been roommates for two years, and in that time, you've seen every nuance of her emotions. But today, she seems different. She watches your fingers toy with the remote. Your head buzzing—maybe from lack of sleep, or perhaps the confusion that has become your life these past few days. Either way, the silence between you both grows heavy, and it eventually becomes unbearable.

"I'm leaving for a few days," you finally say, your voice low, dragging, almost as if you’re testing the words on your tongue before letting them go. "I need to get out of here, out of the city. Go to a friend’s place."

She doesn’t respond immediately. Instead, she runs a hand through her hair, playing with the ends as if pondering the best way to voice what’s on her mind.

"Let me guess: because of her, right?" Rei’s question is loaded with an implication you don’t want to face.

And then, she narrows her eyes... daring you to lie.

You take a deep breath, trying to gather your thoughts.

“What do you mean?"

Rei scoffs, the sound half a laugh, half frustration. "You're going to leave me here alone?" She leans forward slightly, her hands now resting on her lap. "Are you abandoning everything just because she left you?" Her tone is direct, like she’s poking at an open wound, but you know Rei never sugarcoats her words.

"Rei, you've been alone before," you respond, trying not to sound insensitive, but realizing you failed the moment the words leave your mouth. "I… I just can’t take this place anymore. This apartment, the memories…"

She raises an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced.

“The problem,” she starts, choosing her words carefully, “is that you’re going to throw away everything we planned. You’re leaving our plans behind because of that bitch.” The word comes out sharp. There’s no hesitation, no trace of guilt or regret.

"Rei, it's not that simple." You feel the need to justify yourself, to explain what you don’t fully understand. "I… I just need some time, you know? Space to think."

"Space to think?" She repeats, as if it’s a bad joke. "Think about what? About how she treated you like garbage? How she made you feel small every time you did something she didn’t like?" Her tone and gaze burn in a way that makes you flinch. "Or maybe you want to think about how she hated when we spent time together? How she made you choose between... her and me..."

You remain silent, the weight of her words crushing any response you might have had.

"Rei…" you try to start, but she cuts you off again.

“No! Now you're going to listen to me!”

She rises from the armchair, the pink pajamas swaying with the movement, and walks toward you with determined steps. “We planned to watch all the Halloween movies, remember? And it wasn’t my idea. I hate horror movies, but I was going to watch them because you wanted to. And now you’re telling me you’re not in the mood?” She stops in front of you, crossing her arms, her expression a mix of anger and hurt.

“Rei, it’s not about you, it’s about… everything.” The words seem insufficient, hollow, as if they can’t capture the chaos in your mind. “I just… need to get away for a while.”

She takes a deep breath, her hands now clenched into fists at her sides.

“You’re really blind, you know that?” she says, her voice softer now, almost a whisper. “I’ve been right here. I’ve always been here.”

You watch her, feeling a knot form in your stomach. “What do you mean by that?”

Rei doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, she lets her arms fall and, in a fluid motion, sits on your lap, so close you can feel the warmth of her body, her scent— that soft vanilla fragrance that always seems to follow her.

“I’m saying,” she begins, her hands now gently holding your face, “that you’ve never really seen me. Never noticed what I feel for you. And it seems that even now, you still don’t.”

You feel your heart race, as if you’re running a marathon without moving. “Rei, I…”

“Shh,” she interrupts, her finger touching your lips. “You don’t need to say anything. Just listen to me, okay?” She sighs. “I’ve always been here. Always. Since day one. I’ve taken care of you, helped you get back up every time she knocked you down. And I did it because… because I love you.”

The last word hangs in the air, heavy and inescapable. You feel like the ground has disappeared, like you’re falling endlessly into an abyss of uncertainties and emotions you didn’t know existed.

Rei continues, ignoring the shock on your face. “I know this might seem sudden, but… it’s not. I’ve always felt this way. I was just waiting for you to notice. But it seems you’re too blind for that.”

She leans in, your faces so close you can feel her breath against your lips. “I don’t want to be your friend, never did. I want to be more than that. I want you. And I’m not going to let you run away from me now, not after everything.”

Before you can respond, she kisses you. It’s not a gentle or hesitant kiss. It’s a kiss full of need, of desire, of years of repressed feelings finally released. And you kiss her back, because deep down, you know she’s right.

When the kiss finally ends, you both sit there in silence, just breathing, absorbing what just happened. Rei rests her forehead against yours, her eyes closed, more vulnerable than ever.

“Now do you see?”

You don’t answer. You don’t need to. Because for the first time in a long time, everything makes sense.

Memories come in waves, thick and suffocating like the warm air in the apartment that winter. It’s as if the memories from that week have been waiting for this moment to surface, forcing you to face what you’ve tried to hide for so long.

You remember when Rei got sick, a fever that seemed to burn through her, leaving her fragile and trembling. The flu came out of nowhere, turning her into a weakened version of herself, someone you almost didn’t recognize, except for the look she gave you, that spark that never completely faded, no matter how much her body was suffering.

You walked into the room that first night, the tray in your hands trembling slightly. Ginger tea with honey. Toast, because she couldn’t eat much more than that. She was curled up in a heap of blankets, the Hello Kitty pajamas that always made her seem childlike now seemed like a useless armor against the illness. You placed the tray on the bedside table and sat beside her, the mattress sinking under your weight.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” you asked, knowing the answer would be the same as always.

“Like I got hit by a truck,” she muttered, her voice raspy and trembling. She could barely keep her eyes open, but she forced herself to smile at you, because that’s what Rei did. Even when she was broken, she tried to make you feel better.

“Well, at least you’re still beautiful,” you said, trying to get a laugh out of her like you always did. You reached out to brush a strand of hair from her face, your touch soft, almost reverent.

She rolled her eyes, but the smile widened a bit. “Stop it. I look like crap and you know it.”

“No, seriously. You’re like… the sick version of Hello Kitty. The cutest, the prettiest.” You smiled, and she finally let out a weak laugh, a sound faint but full of life.

“You’re ridiculous,” she said, but there was tenderness in her voice.

During that week, daily routines became rituals between you two. Mornings were for medication and warm soups, afternoons for tea and old movies she couldn’t watch to the end without falling asleep. But the nights… the nights were different. They were the moments when everything seemed to slow down, and it was just you and Rei, together in the darkness, talking openly about anything, trying to forget she was sick, trying to make her feel normal.

“When you get better,” you said one night, as she lay on her side, looking at you with those big, tired eyes, “I’ll cook whatever you want. Anything.”

“Anything?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. Even sick, she couldn’t resist a challenge.

“Yeah. As long as it’s something I can make without burning down the kitchen,” you replied.

“Then I want… the best pasta you’ve ever made in your life,” she said, her lips curling into a smile.

“Pasta?” you repeated, as if she had just asked for something exotic.

“Yes, pasta. But it has to be special. I don’t know how, but I trust you to figure it out.” She looked at you with a confidence that made your heart ache. As if she knew you would do anything to see her smile again.

You remember how, that week, the apartment seemed to exist in its own universe. The world outside kept spinning, but in here, it was just you and Rei. You remember staying up late, listening to her breathing, holding her hot, feverish hand, waiting for the fever to finally break.

There was a moment, on one of the hardest nights, when you really thought she might get worse. The fever was high, and she was delirious, mumbling incoherent words. You held her hand, squeezing it tight, as if that could anchor her back to reality.

"Hey, I'm here," you said, your voice firm, trying not to let your anxiety spill over. "You're going to be okay. I promise."

She looked at you, her eyes filled with confusion and pain, and for the first time that week, you saw fear there. Not the fear of dying, but the fear of losing something, of losing you.

"Don't leave me," she whispered, and the vulnerability in her voice broke you in a way nothing else could.

"I'll never leave you," you replied, and in that moment, you realized how true that was.

These memories blend with the present as Rei sits on your lap, her eyes on yours, waiting for you to finally understand what she's trying to tell you. She has always been here, by your side, taking care of you, just as you took care of her. And now, with her so close, you finally understand what has always been right in front of you. The world around you seems to shrink until there's nothing left but the couch, the soft glow of the room, and the warmth of Rei's body on your lap. Time slows down, each second stretching to the point of almost breaking. Her breathing, light and steady, echoes in your ears like a persistent whisper, mixed with the sound of your own racing heartbeat. Your eyes meet, and you realize there's nowhere left to run.

Rei doesn't move. She doesn't try to force anything, just watches you, as if waiting for something. Maybe for an answer. Maybe for a sign that you've finally understood.

"What are you going to do now? Ignore this... or face it?"

There's a part of you that wants to retreat, but something stronger, something that pulls you forward. Unconsciously, your fingers move to her waist, finding the soft skin beneath the thin fabric of her pajamas.

Rei closes her eyes for a moment, as if absorbing the moment, and you feel her body relax under your touch. When she opens her eyes again, there's a sparkle there, something you've never seen before. "I love it when you touch me," she says, and there's a smile on her lips, a smile that is both a statement and a confession. "I've always loved it."

Your heart pounds in your chest, the reality of the moment finally starting to take root in you. But before you can process it, she continues, the words coming out fast, as if they've been held back for too long.

"And of course, she knew." Rei's voice is now harsher, carrying a brutal frankness. "Your ex-girlfriend, that bitch. She always knew. That's why she never liked me. Because she knew that at some point, I would take you from her. Because you were always mine, even when you didn't realize it."

You remember all the times your ex-girlfriend made passive-aggressive comments about Rei, the thinly veiled jabs, the looks of disdain. It all makes sense now, as if a piece of the puzzle has finally fallen into place. Rei leans in a little closer, her face now inches from yours. "She knew that deep down, you didn't want her. She knew you were with me the whole time, even when you were by her side. And she knew I was waiting for the right moment."

You try to say something, but the words get lost before they reach your mouth. All you can do is hold Rei a little tighter, feeling her warmth against your body, the sweet fragrance of vanilla lotion mixed with the scent of her hair.

"And now," Rei says, her voice soft, almost a whisper, "the choice is yours. I'm here. I've always been. The question is... will you finally accept my love? Or will you keep pretending you don't feel the same?"

You know there's no turning back. Not after this.

You lean in, your lips almost touching hers, and the decision has already been made before you even realize it. Because finally, you understand. All you need to do is allow yourself to feel.

"I never wanted her," you finally admit, your voice rough, as if the words had been trapped for too long. "I just didn't know that... I always wanted you."

Rei smiles, a smile that lights up the room, and before you can say anything else, she kisses you. And in that kiss, there are all the answers you've been looking for.

Because deep down, you always knew she was yours. And that you were hers.

When your lips part, you say, "Forgive my indecision, Rei."

She smiles.

"Already forgiven, silly."

So this is the moment of truth. Everything is falling apart around you, and the only thing left is this girl, Rei, looking at you with hungry eyes. She’s already made it clear that she wanted you, that she wants you. Always has. Your ex-girlfriend is just a detail now. And at this moment, it's as if every mistake, every wrong choice, was necessary to get here, with her, at the exact moment when the stars collide.

Rei is on your lap, where she’s always belonged. You kiss like you're drowning, each kiss a rescue from a lost past, and she keeps whispering between kisses, "Kiss me," "Kiss me more," as if it’s never enough, as if your lips still can’t reach what she really wants. The sound of her breath, heavy and fast, is like music, and all you want is to get lost in it, to drown in the innocence of this moment. And when you finally stop to breathe, that's when you really see her. There, so close, the adorable face, lips shining with saliva, dressed in that cute pajama that makes her look innocent. As if this were some kind of final test to see if you can resist what she’s become: the perfect girl.

"Make me yours," she asks, her voice a murmur between kisses. Every word carries a need that goes beyond the physical. It's as if she’s offering her soul, and you feel the weight of it, the gravity of this moment. It’s not just sex. It's so much more. It's mutual possession.

"You will be mine," you respond, and it’s a declaration of dominance, that you’ll have her in every way, that she will be yours and you hers, without reservations, without fear.

You feel your cock hardening, pressing against her. Rei notices, of course. She leans close to your ear, that warm breath against your skin, and confesses, whispers, with a malice that makes your blood boil, a malice that makes your heart race.

"I used to ride my pillow, imagining it was your cock." The image she paints in your mind is raw, almost cruel, because now all you want is to feel her fantasy become reality.

That’s all you needed to hear. She asks in a whining, almost childish voice if you’re going to fuck her, and you answer without any hesitation, "I will." The voice coming out of you isn’t just a reflection of arousal, it’s a promise. One you intend to fulfill with every fiber of your being.

You move to the bed, stumbling between laughter and kisses, the bodies colliding awkwardly but filled with a vital need. As you strip off your clothes, throwing everything to the floor like the world is ending, she looks at you with those eyes, almost asking for permission to be adorable. And there’s no way to resist that silent plea, that look that mixes innocence and lust in a perfect combination.

"Do you want me to keep this pajama on while you fuck me?" she asks, biting her lower lip. "Don't I look cute in it?" It's both a tease and a plea for you to want her even more. And it works.

You can only agree. "Very." The words come out almost as a moan, because at that moment, you know there’s nothing sexier than this mix of purity and perversion, this contrast that is Rei.

And then, without more words, she asks to see your cock. When you take off your underwear, the last barrier between you, her eyes widen, impressed.

"Wow..." She whispers with a mix of admiration and desire, as if she’s seeing something she’s dreamed of for so long finally become reality.

You sit on the bed and Rei kneels in front of you with the same devotion as someone kneeling for prayer. The entire room seems to shrink, every noise from the outside world suffocated by the sound of your quickened breath. She wraps her small hands around your cock, almost as if she’s holding something sacred, something she can’t rush. She drags her palm slowly along the length, exploring every vein, every contour, as if she’s trying to memorize every detail.

Her eyes are fixed on yours, a gaze that’s both sweet and wicked, an intoxicating mix that leaves you completely at her mercy. She smiles a wicked smile before tilting her head and brushing her face against your cock, as if familiarizing herself with the texture, the warmth, the weight. She’s in no hurry, and it drives you crazy. She knows what she’s doing, and you know she’s in control.

She starts with small kisses on the tip, soft, almost chaste, but each touch is charged with a sexual tension that makes you want to grab her hair and push her deeper. But you hold back. This is part of her game, and you don’t want to spoil it. She opens her mouth, letting the tip of her tongue slide slowly and provocatively along the slit at the head, her eyes never leaving yours. It's a deliberate act, one that makes every muscle in your body tense with desire.

She licks around the head of your cock, her tongue moving in lazy circles, spreading saliva until it's glistening and slippery. “I’ve always wondered what your cock feels like, always wanted to know what it tastes like…”

Rei slides her mouth down the length, taking you as deep as she can, and the warmth of her throat envelops you in a wet, pulsing grip. She holds you there for a moment, her eyes closed, savoring the feeling of having you so deep, so completely at her mercy. When she begins to move, it’s slow, dragging her lips along your cock while her hands come down to massage your balls, squeezing with just the right amount of pressure that pulls a low, husky moan from your throat.

She alternates between sucking and licking, her mouth wetting your entire length, creating a rhythm that is as erotic as it is torturous. She lets go of your cock for a second, only to lick your balls, one at a time, sucking them gently while her hand continues to slide up and down your erection.

“I want to hear you moan for me… Yeah, just like that… I love it when you moan like that…”

When she takes you into her mouth again, it’s with more pressure, like she’s hungry for more, like she needs to consume you entirely. The sound of her sucking is obscene, wet, the noise of saliva mixing with the sound of her heavy breathing. She sucks harder, the pressure increasing, each movement faster, more urgent. You can feel the heat building in the pit of your stomach, the pressure mounting as she continues, taking you deeper, moving faster.

“Fuck, Rei… you do that so well…” you manage to murmur, your voice fractured by pleasure. She responds with a muffled moan, a sound that vibrates around your cock and makes your whole body shudder. She speeds up, her gaze locked on yours, eyes gleaming with a mix of pleasure and challenge, as if she knows exactly what she’s doing to you and loves every second of it.

Finally, when she feels you’re on the brink of losing control, she slows down, releasing your cock from her mouth, but not before giving one last suck, hard enough to make your eyes roll back. She looks at you, her lips red and glistening with saliva, a thin string connecting the tip of her tongue to the head of your cock.

“I could do this all night… just to hear you moan more for me.”

She moans around your cock, the sounds vibrating through your body, each movement of her tongue sending waves of pleasure that make your muscles clench. “The taste of your cock is so, so good… way better than I imagined.” She whispers between sucks, looking at you with eyes so full of lust they seem ready to explode.

Rei stops, stands up, and you're still seated on the edge of the bed. Without breaking eye contact, she slides her hands down your chest, her nails lightly scratching the warm skin, before slowly turning around, her slender and delicate body moving with a grace unique to her.

Rei is facing away from you now, and you have the perfect view of the soft, provocative curves that drive you crazy. She positions one leg on either side of your thighs, and with one hand she pulls aside the thin fabric of her shorts, revealing the wet glisten of her pussy, while the other hand grips the base of your cock, guiding it with deliberate precision. She lowers herself slowly, the head of your cock brushing against her tight entrance, while a sigh escapes Rei's lips. She doesn’t rush; every inch is a small torture that makes you grip the bed sheets tightly, as if you need something to anchor you to reality.

When she finally sits on your cock completely, taking you all in, the sensation of being inside her, feeling the heat, the wetness, the pressure, is incredible. Rei begins to move slowly, rising and falling in a deliberate, calculated rhythm, each movement designed to give you agonizing pleasure, as if she’s relishing in testing your endurance. Her hands grip your knees for support, and with each roll of her hips, she tilts in a way that makes you sink even deeper into her, each thrust ripping a muffled groan from your lips.

“That’s it, Rei… slow… I want to feel every second…” you murmur, your voice hoarse, almost a desperate plea to prolong the torture.

She tilts her head back and lets out a low moan, filled with pleasure. “Your cock feels so good… it goes so deep in my tight little pussy…” Her words are like gasoline on the already burning fire inside you. The rhythm gradually increases, her movements become faster, more desperate, as if she’s surrendering completely to the desire that’s consuming both of you. The sound of your skin slapping against hers, the wet sound of her pussy sucking your cock, fills the room with a dirty and delicious melody. She keeps riding you, her moans turning into short screams of pleasure.

You feel the need to take control of the pace, so you grip Rei’s waist firmly and pull her up, making her lift off your cock with a frustrated moan. She turns to you, surprised, but you’re already standing, rising with clear intent. Before she can react, you pull her towards you, turning her to face the wall. Her breathing quickens as she feels your body pressed against hers, your throbbing cock against her skin, and she instinctively arches, pushing her ass out for you.

You position your cock at the entrance of her pussy again, wasting no time, and start fucking her standing up, thrusting hard, as if you want to mark every stroke. Rei lets out a sharp cry of surprise and pleasure, her hands bracing against the wall for balance as you fuck her. Your hips move in a furious rhythm, each thrust deeper than the last, each time faster, as if you’re determined to bury yourself as deep as possible inside her.

“Is this what you wanted, Rei? My cock fucking you like this? Tell me…” you whisper in her ear, nibbling on her earlobe.

“Yes! Fuck, I wanted you fucking my tight little pussy…” she responds between moans, her voice trembling with the force of each thrust. “Fuck me harder… I want to feel you all… deep inside me…”

You grab her breasts through the fabric, squeezing them firmly, feeling the delicious weight in your hands as you continue to fuck her hard. Rei’s moans turn into screams, she throws her head back, her hair sticking to her sweaty skin, her body arching as you keep pounding. The sensation of her pussy tightening around your cock, her internal muscles clenching in pure pleasure.

You pull her by the waist, feeling her tense muscles tremble under your grip, and guide her towards the bed. Rei quickly removes her shorts and gets on all fours, arching her back, showing off her dripping pussy, begging to be fucked. “Look at me… look at this pussy… it’s all yours… only yours… so fuck it, fuck it hard…” The sight alone is enough to make your head spin, your whole body screaming to take what’s yours.

Rei looks back over her shoulder, her eyes gleaming with a mix of lust and submission. “Fuck me… I need you… now,” she moans, her voice almost a whisper, but the plea is as clear as a shout.

You position your cock at her entrance, sliding slowly through her warm, pulsing opening before burying it deep in one single motion. She lets out a high-pitched moan, almost a scream, and the sound echoes through the room. Your hips start moving on instinct, your hands gripping her waist tightly, controlling each thrust, each push that drives her forward and then pulls her back for more.

“Just like that… harder… I want to feel every inch…” Rei begs, her voice broken by the moans that escape with each thrust. Her fingers dig into the sheets, her body arching with every movement, and you obey, increasing the force, the speed, until the sound of your skin slapping against hers fills the room. Her body responds to every thrust, her pussy squeezing even tighter around your cock, as if trying to keep you inside, as if she never wants to let you go.

You feel the moment approaching, the peak of pleasure that’s so close yet seems unreachable. With a hoarse groan, you grab her arms, pulling them back, pinning her under you as you continue to fuck. Rei completely surrenders, her moans turning into screams, her muscles tightening, her breath hitching as you drive her higher and higher until finally, she explodes in a powerful orgasm that makes her tremble beneath you. Her body convulses violently around your cock.

When she finally calms down, you lay her carefully on the bed. Rei looks at you with half-closed eyes, her lips parted in a smile that is both satisfied and hungry for more. You lie down beside her, but before you can relax, Rei is already moving again, climbing on top of you, sliding along your cock, swallowing you in one go, and begins to ride you with a slow, deliberate rhythm.

Her breasts bounce through the fabric with each movement, the skin of her thighs sweaty and glistening in the dim light of the room. Rei unbuttons her pajama top, and you can’t resist touching her breasts, squeezing them firmly, feeling the heat and weight in your hands. Rei tilts her head back, letting out a deep moan, almost a purr of pleasure, and you realize she's reveling in the control, in the sensation of completely owning you. "I'm going to come again... I need to come again..." she says, her eyes closed as she quickens the pace, each movement faster, more desperate.

You can feel her orgasm approaching, her pussy tightening even more around your cock, the heat and wetness increasing with each passing second. Her body moves with a frantic urgency, riding you with all her strength, as if she’s rushing towards a precipice, ready to throw herself into the abyss. And when she finally climaxes, Rei convulses on top of you, her body trembling, her muscles squeezing with an almost painful force, holding you inside her as she loses herself in pleasure.

It doesn't take long before you feel an intense heat building inside you, an unbearable pressure accumulating. Rei is still riding you, and she notices the change in you. She's moving slowly after her orgasm, her hips moving in a rhythm that teases you, rubbing her slick pussy against every inch of your cock, feeling the veins throb against her hot, wet flesh. Your eyes meet, and she smiles, a smile that mixes triumph and desire.

"You're going to come for me, aren't you?" Rei murmurs. "I want you to cover my face with your cum. I want to feel it dripping down my face, sliding into my mouth. Give me all your milk, baby."

Her words are a spark that ignites the last shred of self-control you had. In a swift movement, Rei dismounts you, kneeling beside the bed. She looks up at you, hunger in her eyes, as she firmly grips the base of your cock, her lips slowly parting, ready to devour you one last time. She slides the tip of your cock between her lips, sucking with a pressure that's both devastating and incredibly erotic, her eyes locked on yours as if daring you to hold on for just one more second.

But you can't. Not now. Her hands move with devilish skill, gliding up and down the length of your cock as her tongue desperately circles the head, licking, sucking, begging for you to drop your huge load on her.

"Come for me, baby," she whispers between sucks, her voice so full of lust that you almost explode right then and there. "Cover my face with your cum, please. I want it all, I want to feel you."

And then, just as you feel the climax explode inside you, Rei pulls your cock from her mouth, holding it inches from her face, her lips curled into a wicked smile. "That's it, come on my face, cover my face with your cum."

The first jet of cum hits her face with force, spreading across her nose and cheek, slowly dripping toward her lips. She closes her eyes, her smile widening as more jets follow, coating her skin. "That's it, baby... more... give me everything," she moans, feeling the cum drip from her eyelashes, slide down her chin, turning her face into a canvas of pure, dirty pleasure.

"Do it, mark me with your cum," Rei continues, running her fingers across her face to collect more of your cum and slowly licking them, savoring it like it’s her own addiction. "Fuck, I loved that... I loved everything, your taste, your smell, your touch, the way you make me feel so... so slutty."

Even after you've given everything, Rei still milks you with her hands, ensuring not a single drop is wasted. She licks her lips, tasting you, moaning softly as she savors every last drop. "Fuck, this is so warm, so good," she whispers, her voice drunk with pleasure, her eyes still closed as she basks in the sensation.

"Fuck… That was amazing, I loved every second, Rei," you say.

Finally, she opens her eyes and looks at you, a sweet smile on her lips. "From now on, our days will always be like this," she replies.

"I didn't know you could be so... perfect," you admit.

She gives an adorable little laugh as she responds, "You haven't seen anything yet."

—

That night was like any other. The bar, lit by neon lights that cast a bluish glow over everything, made the place seem like it was straight out of a dream. The loud music mingled with the bittersweet smell of beer and fried food. You were already on your third round of beers, maybe your fourth.

You leaned forward, elbows resting on the table, as the foam from the beer spilled over the sides of the glass you held with both hands. Beside you, Rei, always present, always reliable Rei, laughed at something one of your friends said, but the sound of her laughter felt more like a tapestry woven from nostalgia than a true response to whatever it was.

Your eyes wandered over her face. She was beautiful that night, more than usual.

"Hey, Rei," you called, half-whispering, but loud enough to be heard over the noise around you. She turned her face toward you, her brown eyes shining under the bar's light. "Have you ever noticed that... that I can talk to you about anything?"

She raised an eyebrow, curious. "Of course." Her response was simple, direct, and, in a way, exasperating. Sure, you were friends. But that wasn't what you meant, though the words weren't forming clearly in your mind.

"No, but..." You tried to think, tried to organize your muddled thoughts. "It's more than that. I can talk to you in a way I can't even with... with my girlfriend."

Her expression changed subtly, almost imperceptibly, but you noticed. She bit her lip, a gesture you'd seen before, whenever she was thinking about something she preferred not to say. "You've said that before," she replied softly, as if she were treading on dangerous ground.

"Have I?" You frowned, trying to remember, but your mind was fogged by the drink. "Ah... well, it must be because it's true."

Rei laughed, a short laugh, not very joyful.

"You're an idiot, you know that?" She shook her head, as if she were laughing at an inside joke. You were silent for a moment, trying to understand what she meant, but the alcohol wasn't helping.

"Maybe we have... a connection," you continued, stumbling over the words, "you know, like siblings."

Rei stopped laughing. The smile disappeared, and she looked at you with a seriousness that almost hurt. "It's not that," she said, her voice low, almost inaudible amid the noise around you. "It never was."

You blinked, confused. "It's not? Then... what is it?" You were genuinely puzzled. She had always been there, always by your side, always laughing at your jokes and listening to your rants. And you always thought that was true friendship, something solid and safe.

Rei sighed, and for a moment, you saw something in her eyes you'd never seen before — a kind of sadness mixed with resignation.

"It doesn't matter," she said finally, looking away, as if she could no longer bear to look at you. "Forget it."

You felt uncomfortable, as if you'd failed some test, but you didn't know what to say. Instead, you did what you always did when things got too complicated: you hugged her. It was an awkward, impulsive hug, but you felt her body relax against yours.

"I like you, Rei," you murmured, without thinking. The words slipped out before you could stop them, but it didn't feel wrong to say, "a lot." And suddenly, her arms were around your neck, and you realized, belatedly, how right that felt.

Rei smiled, a smile you couldn't quite interpret. "I like you a lot too."

And then, one of your friends called your name, something about another round of shots, and the moment dissolved. You were dragged back to the table, to the noise and chaos, and Rei sat there, watching as you walked away. When you looked back, she wasn't smiling anymore.

That night, you went home and collapsed into bed. And somehow, you forgot what happened. But Rei didn’t forget. For her, that moment was a line drawn in the sand, a line you had crossed without knowing. But she knew.

And that was what hurt the most.

—

The darkness in the room is thick, punctuated only by the faint glow of the desk lamp. Silence is never absolute, thanks to the soft sound of Rei’s breathing, a constant reminder that you’re no longer alone in this bed, or in any other aspect of your life.

Rei is nestled beside you, her tangled hair splayed across the pillow, a lazy smile stretching across her lips as she snuggles closer.

“We don’t have to sleep in separate rooms anymore, huh?” She lets out a little laugh, and you can sense her satisfaction in finally being able to say that.

You nod passively as the reality of what’s happened settles in your mind.

Rei turns her head to look at you, her eyes gleaming in the dim light. “Funny, isn’t it?” She begins, and you already know something is coming.

“What’s funny?” you ask, a part of you already knowing that the answer will make you feel like a complete fool.

She sighs, half exasperated, half amused, like she’s about to explain something obvious to a child.

“All those times I tried to get your attention… And you, completely blind.”

You turn to face her, trying to recall anything that might support what she’s saying. Her smile widens, mischievous and teasing.

“Remember that time I asked for a towel while I was in the shower? Just because I wanted you to take a peek?” She rolls her eyes and laughs. “But you? You just tossed the towel through the door and walked away.”

Your mind starts to sift through memories, moments that once seemed innocent, even mundane. You thought she was just forgetful, always leaving the towel behind. It never crossed your mind that it was intentional.

“And those short pajamas I used to wear?” Her voice had a tone of playful satisfaction. “I chose them just to see if you’d notice, if you’d at least look. And what did you do? You covered me with a blanket, worried that I might be cold.” She giggles, but you can feel the sarcasm dripping. “Cold? I wanted you to see me.”

You feel the blush rising up your neck, a mix of embarrassment and… something else. The images flood your mind: the short pajamas, the forgotten towels, and you never understood. You never realized what she was trying to tell you with those signals, and now you feel stupid.

“And when I used to jump on you out of nowhere?” She asks, laughing more vigorously. “Just to see if I could catch you off guard, make you react in some different way. And you? You’d just laugh and push me away.”

You try to speak, but the shame is almost suffocating. “I… I didn’t know,” you mumble, desperately trying to justify yourself. “I thought it was just… I don’t know, playful.”

Rei shakes her head, still smiling under a new layer of affection.

“You were so caught up in that… thing you called a relationship, that you never saw me as a real woman.”

“Rei, I…” you start, but she cuts you off, moving even closer until her nose touches yours.

“I did those things for you, you know? I turned down so many guys because of you, waiting for you to wake up.” She whispers, her voice a mix of sweetness and frustration.

“I’ll try to make it up to you… somehow. I’m sorry, Rei.”

She smiles again, but this time, it’s a different smile, a smile of victory, but also of understanding. She kisses you, a soft kiss, almost marking the end of a chapter that took too long to write.

“Idiot,” she murmurs against your lips, but the tone is affectionate. “You couldn’t have known. But now you do, and you’re not going to stay away from me anymore.”

Rei cuddles up to you, closing her eyes. And as sleep begins to pull you under, you can’t help but have one last thought, one last question: how could it have taken so long?

—

After the relationship finally solidifies, what was once just the ordinary coexistence of roommates, of best friends who share the trivialities of daily life, now transforms into something much deeper, much more intricate. Rei is no longer just the girl you split bills with and share occasional laughs, or the friend who was always there to listen to your complaints about life. She’s your girl now. And that changes everything.

The daily routine, which once seemed dull, now takes on new colors, new textures. The small details, those moments that would have gone unnoticed before, are now enveloped in a layer of raw, unfiltered intimacy. She greets you at home with an almost childlike eagerness, as if you were the sun and she, a plant hungry for light. Every time you walk through the door, there's a kiss, a hug, a heartfelt declaration of how much she missed you, even if it’s only been a few hours since you last saw each other. The way she looks at you... makes you feel like the only man on earth.

And things start heating up in ways you could never have anticipated. It’s a surprise, but one you embrace with every fiber of your being. Suddenly, she’s wearing costumes in bed, playing characters that range from a provocative nurse to a strict teacher. She dives into these roles with evident pleasure, having fun as she teases you, torturing you in ways you never imagined you’d enjoy so much.

Then there are the moments of complete spontaneity, the ones that turn any mundane situation into something memorable. Like that day in the supermarket parking lot, when she pulled you into the car, the engine still warm, the windows fogging up as she gave you a blowjob that wiped your mind clean, erasing any thought that wasn’t about her, about the moment. It’s clandestine, dirty in a way that only heightens the excitement, leaving you in a state of quiet euphoria as you tried not to moan her name right there in the backseat.

Morning sex becomes almost a sacred routine, the most intense and straightforward way to start the day. No words are needed, just the movement of bodies, the heat spreading, and the way she whispers in your ear. It’s primal, vital, as if without it, the rest of the day simply couldn’t happen.

You explore each other as if discovering yourselves for the first time. Every touch, every kiss, every sigh is a new discovery, a new layer of intimacy that you peel away together. You lose yourself in her, and she loses herself in you.

Every day is a new experience, and you let yourself go because, honestly, there’s nothing you want more than to be immersed in this whirlwind of sensations.

And Rei knows no limits when it comes to teasing you. Like that night when you went to a party with your friends. She seemed innocent, almost naive, in the floral dress that covered her down to her knees. But it was all a facade. During the party, she leaned in to whisper things in your ear, dirty things that made your whole body heat up. And in the middle of casual conversation with others, while everyone was distracted, her hand found yours, guiding it under the table to the part of her that was already wet with anticipation. She whispered for you to stay calm, not to give away what was happening, while she made you desperately wish the night would end soon.

Another time, during an innocent walk in the park, the sun shining, birds singing, the appearance of a perfect, harmless day. Rei, with that look like she wasn’t planning anything serious, led you to a more secluded spot, among the trees, away from curious eyes. "I was thinking," she began, with a gleam in her eyes that you’d learned to recognize, "I wonder if anyone’s ever done it here?" And before you could respond or even process what was happening, she was already on her knees in the grass, unbuttoning your pants.

There are also those moments when she surprises you in the middle of the night. You sleep deeply, your body exhausted from just another day, and are awakened by her soft touch, a caress that starts slow, exploring every inch of your skin, as if she wanted to memorize every detail. She has diabolical patience, letting the desire build inside you until you can no longer pretend to be asleep. And when you finally give in, when your eyes open and meet hers, she’s already watching you with a smile that promises the kind of pleasure that borders on sinful.

Another adventure she created was during a visit to your parents' house. You were there for a Sunday lunch, everyone was in the living room, talking and laughing. Rei, always cheerful and playful, behaved like the perfect girl to introduce to your family. But only you knew what was really going on. During lunch, she would gently rub her foot against your leg under the table, a constant tease that amused her.

"Hey, are you okay? You seem a bit... uncomfortable," she asked, feigning innocence, while her eyes said exactly what she was doing.

After lunch, she pulled you to a corner of the house where no one could see. "I think we need a bit of fresh air," she said, leading you to the garden. But instead of admiring the flowers, she pressed you against the brick wall of the house, her hands already unbuttoning your pants. “Let me ease your mind a little," she whispered before kneeling in the grass, and all you could do was hold onto the wall to keep from falling as she did things with her mouth that made you completely forget where you were.

You couldn’t be more satisfied to be the focus of all this seductive energy she has. And perhaps what surprises you most is how much it completes you. There’s no fear here, no doubts. Just the certainty that, finally, you’ve found what you were looking for. Someone who sees you, who cares about you, who shakes up your routine, who wants you, exactly as you are.

And that, yes, is the greatest achievement of all.

[rcksmith]

Not you — Five Hargreeves

Requests: “Five Hargreeves x fem!reader, Fluff prompts 9, 52 and 53, please? (You can do this whenever you feel like it) Five and Y/n are both hit by one of Hazel and Cha-Cha’s bullets in the Gimbel Brothers store and they immediately go to the academy (Five wants Y/n treated as soon as possible.) after they’re fine, the siblings start to question them on Five’s protectiveness over Y/n”

“Hii could I request 4 & 23 off the fluff prompts for Five pls ty 😌✨”

Fluff prompts:

4. “Sweetheart, you’re my entire world”

9. “So you're saying that girl is your girlfriend?!" "No, that girl is my wife!”

23. “i’ve dreamt about this.”

52. "Help her first."

53. “There are no limits when it comes to you. I’ll do anything to keep you safe.”

A/N: We not tolerate any pedophilia here !!

I write about Five with their 20s. I write the same about the characters of Harry Potter.

I hope you guys like💖I decided to compile these two requests, since they were the same energy and they prompts connect to a central plot. I added all the elements that were asked for individually, and made sure that all ideas were respected and written down. Good reading.

I used here some fragments of the central plot of Five, but, guys, keep in mind that he is 20 years old, and that when he comes back to 2019 Five does not make a mistake in the calculations. I changed the location of the fight too, but a really I hope you, Anon # 1, don't mind.

English is not my first language, so I so sorry if have a mistake.

Requests are open. Love you ❤️

Couple: Five Hargreeves / Fem! Reader.

Warnings: blood, mention of death, swearing, fluff too.

— — — — —

You remembered perfectly when you met Five Hargreeves, the commission's golden ball, The Handler's award-winning shamrock. If you closed your eyes, even after years, you could still smell the male cologne wafting in the air, and you could relive the same feeling in the pit of your stomach that you had when he looked at you with those obsedian eyes.

Five Hargreeves was gorgeous. Absurdly gorgeous. But absurdly arrogant, boastful, presumptuous and completely absent of any delicacy in relation to empathy and kindness. He was the type who would open the door for you to enter first, but who would be the first to make fun of your erroneous reasoning.

And that was why, at the time, when you were assigned to be his partner, you lived in conflict with what you really felt. It was a mixture of tantrum and physical attraction.

But unlike all the people around Five, when he spit fire at you with all the anger at his difficult temper, you didn't run. In fact, when it exploded the first time in front of you, you crossed your arms, arched an eyebrow and looked at him with boredom.

“Have you finished your show yet?” You said, as if you didn't care, leaning against the hood of the car while Five screamed through the 7 winds “Stop to imply with everything.”

Five had been your partner for a few months now and it became clearer each day that the irritation was mutual. He made it perfectly clear that you pissed him off until his last hair.

But, unlike you, it was for another reason.

Shit, you were a fucking goddess! Your beauty was notorious, but that was not all that caught his attention. You were smart, canny, brave, Five never saw you in fear of any situation or shaken by any scene of blood. You knew your goals and went after them. It was strong, decisive, and, goddamn, he loved it. You had a fist, you were firm, and you always made it very clear that you were no helpless maiden.

It felt like you had gotten out of his imagination, from the daydreams in which Five rambled about what kind of woman he admired. And, hell, you came with the full package. It was a combination of overwhelming beauty, intelligence, dexterity, and he never thought that someone like that could be real.

But of course you were. And now Five was completely irritated because you were real, and not just another his dream and daydream in which a sublime woman starred.

“To Imply?” Five turned to you, eyes on fire “To Imply?!”

“Like a 2-year-old who didn't take his afternoon nap. It's not the end of time, it doesn't have to be childish.”

Now Five felt himself ignite. He was a dry, rough fire and you were gasoline, igniting everything saw ahead.

Was that damn woman calling he a child?! You?! Just you, the person whose Five wanted to tie the bed and do all kinds of sinful things.

Oh hell no!

Five came forward, furious, like an angry god, his coal eyes never leaving your direction.

“Childish, isn't it?” He snarled “I'm going to show you the childish!”

Five held your face tightly in his hands and pressed your lips to his. Fierce, needy, set on fire, lost in half sentences of feelings about you. He slid his hands to the back of your neck, closing his fingers in your hair and invading your mouth with his tongue, letting you taste the caffeine, danger and lust he had.

You sighed, or Five, or both. You held him as close as he was, with the two of you being on the same mission: to conquer, to take, to possess. But Five had an extraordinary intensity, a magnitude that managed to win you

Then your touch became more docile, your kiss became submissive and you were surrendered. When Five walked away, not with his body, he still held you against him, but with his head, enough to look you in the eye, you sighed.

“I’ve dreamt about this.” You gave up your game, because you couldn't pretend anymore, and Five responded by kissing you again, this time tasting your whole mouth.

After that day, Five and you never came apart. You two were like a dynamic duo, crime partners in the morning and intense lovers at night.

But Five spent so much time with affection, love and caring being denied that when, on a night when work got the best of him, Five fell into the bed you shared in a Motel room, very close to your lap and you smiled sweetly and ran your fingers through his black hair, establishing the affection there, Five was catatonic.

His wild mind wanted to take it away and go, tell you to swallow those loving gestures and that he would never need them. That they were a nuisance, a distraction.

But his body and heart... well, they begged Five to stay another second. Just one more second enjoying that touch, the care, the importance that someone felt for him. He liked to be pampered, who knew.

So he ended up falling asleep with your touch and, after that day, Five realized that if his body and heart couldn't get any further from you, then no one would ever take you away from him. You would stay with him, until the end. As long as you wanted to stay.

And you wanted to. You wanted all the stages, all the moments, all the fights. You wanted Five, completely. And after some time like that, he said that you two were going to get married. It wasn't a request, it wasn't a speculation, it was a fact and that's it. You laughed, it was Five's style to be embarrassed about something and treat it more coarsely, just because he didn't know how to deal with the emotions he felt.

“Of course I do.” You reassured him by bringing your hands to his face, tracing affectionate circles on his cheek with your thumb.

“You would have no other option.” He grunted, not looking at you, trying to divert attention from his own racing heart.

You laughed and sealed the future of the two of you with a kiss.

After five years of making it official, Five said he had found a way for him to get home. And as he spoke, you noticed a flickering hesitation in his eyes. You knew, at that moment, that Five would leave it behind if there was a chance that you wouldn't want to go along. He promised to love you, in joy and sadness, in difficult times and in good times, and he never broke a promise.

Five Hargreeves would stay for you. In 1963, in 1988, in 2019, it didn't matter the season, the year. It wouldn't be worth anything if didn't have you by his side.

But, like him, it was logical that you would never abandon him, ever. So you went along. It was together in the murder in 1963, it was together at the time of the target, and it was together when he jumped in the portal. You were with Five when he reunited with his family, they all amazement by the 13 year old little brother who disappeared to reappear as a man of 25. On top of that accompanied by a girl.

But Five still couldn't administer his emotions properly, he still couldn't say that he missed his brothers and that being without his family had been terrible. His past contained many shipwrecks and he did not know how to open up about it. After so many years alone and then killing without any judgment, it was difficult to connect with emotions.

So, instead of saying everything that screamed inside him, after just some time with the siblings he took your hand and pulled you out, telling the Hargreeves that he would go after a decent coffee.

“I wish I could have talked to them better.” You grumble whit Five and he rolled his eyes.

“As if they were going to understand the things you were going to explain.” He murmured, covering the whole issue of the Commission and time jumps.

“This is not difficult to explain.” You raised your left hand, signaling the silver circle that hugged your finger.

Five laughed, sipping his coffee.

“You will be my wife forever, there is plenty of time for you to tell that.”

But as soon as Five's words had just left your lips, blowing in the air like fog, the door to the store opened, and you two didn't have to turn around to find out who they were. Years on the commission have earned you enough training to even recognize the sound of their footsteps.

The exchange of looks that Five and you gave was enough to know what each one was thinking and how they would act. That was your secret language, the superpower that you two shared. No words were needed to understand each one like the back of your hand.

You took a deep breath, while your fingers on your right hand steadied yourself on the coffee cup and Five on the knife. There was no waiting for speeches, exchanging words, you both knew that the Commission would send the best agents besides you, and Hazel and Cha-Cha were not known to be late at work.

Then the action started, Five turned and teleported with the knife, shoving it into the leg of one of the agents covered in rabbit masks. You didn't stay behind and swivel your chair around, throwing the sizzling coffee into the second's hands, causing him to drop the gun on the floor. You didn't wait to kick him in the chest, making him stagger backwards as you got up from the chair. You and Five were good, but so was Hazel and Cha-Cha, and you couldn't count on the powers to dodge physical attacks.

Everything was very fast indeed, windows were broken, punches were exchanged, blood was plucked. But when you looked to the side and saw who was probably Cha-Cha pushing Five against a broken glass stake, you understood why love at work was so dangerous. You understand completely. Because you've lost your focus. It took a thousandth of an instant for years of training and improvement to be thrown out the window. Only the possibility of Five getting hurt got you off track, and that was fatale.

The agent who fought with you took advantage of your distraction, reaching for the gun that was on the floor in that split second. And a shot reverberated through the place.

Suddenly, the world for Five stopped the axis. Everything was suspended, appalled, frozen. And in that very second, his body shivered from head to toe, as if misfortune had sighed in his neck. Five Hargreeves never feared anyone, even death itself. But as soon as he heard the sound of the shot, Five tasted death. Was rough, metallic and cruel, the blood drained from the body and the world released a dark and funeral note, sinking into a black sea.

Because fear is not the bullet hitting you, but someone you love.

Five turned back, eyes wide, hands shaking, and he didn't know what was beating faster: his fear or his heart.

He would remember that moment as the most cruel and frightening of his entire life, years in the apocalypse and killing had no comparison to the terror that was seeing your white shirt start to be stained with blood, the bullet hole marking your abdomen. You looked up at him, shocked, livid, and Five could see death perfectly, pulling the vitality out of your eyes.

He didn't think, he didn't reason, he just teleported himself to you, taking your body in his arms and teleported you two away from there. Five’s hands were shaking, a visceral pain snaking through his body and suffocating him with the worst sensation Five had ever felt in his life.

He took you both to the Hargreeves mansion in the blink of an eye, his powers failing when the blue flash left you both in the giant living room.

“Five!”

Maybe it was Luther's voice, or Klaus, or Diego, he didn't know. Everything was a distant echo, a note submerged in the water. Five saw or heard nothing but your body in his arms, your eyes closed and face frighteningly pale, his right hand, which was pressing on your wound, was already soaked in blood.

It was too much blood, the smell was overwhelming, and for the first time in a long time, Five Hargreeves was in despair.

Hands touched his shoulders, and Grace's voice was heard in the background. But he didn't want treatments, whatever the goddamn his wounds were going to be.

“Help her first!” Five shouted, his voice finding strength in the terror he felt. And also in fury.

The Handler would pay for that, and so would Hazel and Cha-Cha. And, by God, the whole world would pay if you never opened your eyes again.

“Right now.” Maybe it was Pogo “But, Five, are you…”

“No!” He ordered “She first!”

Then Grace's hands took you out of his arms and Five refused to leave you for even a second. He was beside you at the operating table, holding your hand, with him bloody fingers of your blood and the agent he had fought.

But Five didn't care about the himself state, the people around it, or anything. His eyes were focused on you, his face frozen in a livid expression.

And when Grace said that you would need a blood transfusion and Five barely let her finish speaking before rolling up the manga and extending his arm, the siblings Hargreeves and Pogo were shocked. What they saw in Five's eyes was not a man afraid of losing someone, but of losing the person he loved.

I shouldn't have come back. Was Five's first thought when the surgery ended well and you were still asleep. It was his fault that you almost died. And everything was buzzing in Five's head like a propellant.

“So…”

Klaus appeared in the kitchen, with the siblings, while Five was washing the blood from his hands, now calmer since you were alive.

“That was heavy.” Luther let out a little gasp, a kind of choked laugh.

“Aren't you going to tell us what happened?” Allison sat at the table.

“She almost died because of my decision, that's what happened.” Five replied, turning and picking up a cloth from the table, drying his hands.

“Five...” Allison made his eyes go towards his sister “Who is she, actually ?”

Five gave a bitter laugh. Who were you? How would he explain it?

You are everything. The reason wake up everyday was good, what made the summer breeze and the sun's rays warm, the reason why his world was still spinning.

Who were you? It was absolutely everything for Five.

“Someone very important.” His whispered escaped.

“So you're saying that girl is your girlfriend ?!" Luther looked at Five in shock, as if the possibility of him having a girlfriend was absurd.

“No.” Five looked at Luther with fire in his eyes, his voice hoarse “That girl is my wife!”

The room's breath evaporated, everyone was dumbfounded and bewildered. But Grace came in at that moment, saving Five from continuing that conversation.

“She woke up.” His mother's voice was soft, and Five dropped everything he was doing and disappeared into the blue flash.

The first thing he noticed when he entered that room was you sitting on the bed, your back against the headboard.

“Hey...” the smile you gave made Five's world spin again.

He didn't wait a second before walking up to you in quick steps, holding your face in his hands and sealing your lips in a desperate kiss, as if that could prove that everything was fine.

“I thought I lost you.” He whispered against your lips, hands shaking, thumbs stroking yours cheeks.

“Bad vase doesn't break early.” You joked and Five laughed softly, his forehead touching your. “Were you hurt?”

He denied it, still with you, as if letting you was impossible. Maybe it was.

“I got distracted, I'm sorry that we let them escape and...”

Five interrupted your sentence

“Sweetheart…” You stopped, bewitched by his tone of voice “You’re my entire world.”

Five wasn't calling Hazel and Cha-Cha right now. He would kill that entire Commission later. Later. Now the only thing that mattered was you.

“I shouldn't have broken our contracts with the commission. I shouldn't have put you in this.” He said “But ... but I am very selfish, and even though I knew it would be better to let you go back to the Commission, I cannot live without you...”

“Hey, I not go come back.” You held his hands that were on your face, looking at him with love "My place is with you.”

“I promise you that I will never let anyone else hurt you. Even if I have to kill every single person on this planet. ” Five guaranteed “There are no limits when it comes to you. I'll do anything to keep you safe. ”

You smiled, put your lips together in a passionate kiss and whispered:

“I only need you, my love. Forever.”

[scullysflannel]

☕️ not really a topic but i would LOVE it if you try to convince someone who has not seen a single episode of x files (me) to watch x files

thank you for this dream assignment. I’m unhinging my jaw now.

Mulder and Scully aren’t like their reputations. they get talked about like these big ideas—the Believer and the Skeptic—but they are so not dry or one-dimensional or anything else that you might be expecting. they’re the most human characters I’ve ever seen on screen. Scully is curious and earnest and so eager to succeed, but she throws away her definition of success to do the right thing (and because she’s a little rebel. I’m not spoiling anything beyond the first few minutes of the pilot to say that she’s assigned to Mulder to spy on him, but she likes and respects him too much to do it). Mulder is hardworking, kind, restless. so idealistic it looks selfish. he sees his lost sister in every victim. he has trouble sleeping, and I love that it’s not part of the plot. it’s just part of him. some procedurals don’t like to go home with the characters at the end of the day. The X-Files feels like it’s always going home with Mulder and Scully, even when they’re on the road.

every good thing about the show goes through them. that’s the whole point of the story: you think the truth is “out there,” but it isn���t—it’s in other people. and that might sound sentimental or obvious, but The X-Files makes you feel how heavy it is to love and be loved. a lot of Mulder and Scully’s connection is unspoken. and yes, sometimes that gives them communication issues, which I personally think is very sexy and interesting of them, but it’s also so powerful. here are these two people whose job forces them to question everything about the world, but they don’t question each other.

I know I’m getting very Always Sunny conspiracy board about this, but nothing else feels like The X-Files. it’s a mood at the highest level. the whole philosophy behind the show is that knowing there’s a monster in the shadows is scarier and more interesting than seeing that monster. the most powerful things are the ones that can’t really be understood or explained. it’s the same with Mulder and Scully. Chris Carter, the creator, fought so hard against making them romantic, but the joke is on him for a lot of reasons, like (1) he cast David Duchovny and Gillian Anderson, who have more chemistry than anyone else on this sad little planet and who like kissing for fun, (2) nothing is more romantic than an intellectual partnership between equals based on trust and mutual respect, and (3) the more he refused to define their relationship with words, the more powerful he inadvertently made it, because, again, the most important things are too big for words. it’s like the show respects Mulder and Scully’s connection too much to try to explain it.

The X-Files made me realize how sick I am of bickering on TV. a lot of shows want us to think that love looks like a little boy pulling a girl’s hair on the playground. but Mulder and Scully have a friendship between adults. they like each other. I know I literally just went on about how their relationship is so powerful it transcends the bounds of fiction etc., but it’s not stuffy. there’s a fun little kernel of madness and codependence at the center of their relationship, which I love because I love watching women in fiction pick their own poison. and Scully’s is Mulder. they’re a little bit mutually destructive with each other, but they’re even more self-destructive on their own. it’s compelling.

shifting to a different corner of my conspiracy board. Mulder and Scully are as great as they are because The X-Files understands exactly where they fit in the world of the show and what brings them together: their shared integrity in the face of the FBI’s manipulation. The X-Files is really about the abuses committed by the government; the villains are men in suits who would do anything to hold on to the power they feel slipping away. this show can go hard when it wants to. I can’t and don’t want to absolve it for being written and directed almost exclusively by white men, which comes through in all kinds of toxic ways. but as far as cop shows go its perspective on the world holds up impressively well—better than shows that are on right now. I can think of a hundred ways The X-Files could have been a better version of itself, but every other show still wants what it has. 

even when The X-Files is bad it’s good. sometimes the frustrating things about it only make it more interesting. it’s a show that draws you in; it makes you part of the process of interpreting what’s happening and assigning meaning to it. there wasn’t a writers’ room for the writers to communicate with each other (a concept), which means the story can sometimes feel fragmented, but that also gave the show the capacity to look at Mulder and Scully through a lot of different lenses, which ultimately only makes them more vibrant. they can fit into a comedy or a tragedy or a thriller. they can be unbearably sentimental one week (or one scene) and unbearably withholding the next. but that’s real. people are inconsistent. it also makes it possible for the monster-of-the-week episodes to keep getting better and more inventive even as the mythology starts to fall apart. the great standalone episodes are like short stories, and even the worst ones have Mulder and Scully.

I don’t find The X-Files scary in a jump-scare kind of way; it’s cozy, and it’s got a powerful sense of wonder at the the world. but it does get at the creeping horror of realizing the world doesn’t make sense. what makes the story hopeful is that Mulder and Scully keep trying to make sense of it anyway. they tear down everything they thought they knew because the comfort of a lie is less important than the truth. I just love that the little grey men and the UFOs and the tractor beams all look exactly like you’d expect them to, but belief still isn’t easy. it’s not a show about what exactly real-ass aliens might look like. it’s about how the truth can be really simple and really hard to accept at the same time.

[niseamstories]

10 Lessons on Realistic Worldbuilding and Mapmaking I Learned Working With a Professional Cartographer and Geodesist

Hi, fellow writers and worldbuilders,

It’s been over a year since my post on realistic swordfighting, and I figured it’s time for another one. I’m guessing the topic is a little less “sexy”, but I’d find this useful as a writer, so here goes: 10 things I learned about realistic worldbuilding and mapmaking while writing my novel.

I’ve always been a sucker for pretty maps, so when I started on my novel, I hired an artist quite early to create a map for me. It was beautiful, but a few things always bothered me, even though I couldn’t put a finger on it. A year later, I met an old friend of mine, who currently does his Ph.D. in cartography and geodesy, the science of measuring the earth. When the conversation shifted to the novel, I showed him the map and asked for his opinion, and he (respectfully) pointed out that it has an awful lot of issues from a realism perspective.

First off, I’m aware that fiction is fiction, and it’s not always about realism; there are plenty of beautiful maps out there (and my old one was one of them) that are a bit fantastical and unrealistic, and that’s all right. Still, considering the lengths I went to ensure realism for other aspects of my worldbuilding, it felt weird to me to simply ignore these discrepancies. With a heavy heart, I scrapped the old map and started over, this time working in tandem with a professional artist, my cartographer friend, and a linguist. Six months later, I’m not only very happy with the new map, but I also learned a lot of things about geography and coherent worldbuilding, which made my universe a lot more realistic.

1)  Realism Has an Effect: While there’s absolutely nothing wrong with creating an unrealistic world, realism does affect the plausibility of a world. Even if the vast majority of us probably know little about geography, our brains subconsciously notice discrepancies; we simply get this sense that something isn’t quite right, even if we don’t notice or can’t put our finger on it. In other words, if, for some miraculous reason, an evergreen forest borders on a desert in your novel, it will probably help immersion if you at least explain why this is, no matter how simple.

2)  Climate Zones: According to my friend, a cardinal sin in fantasy maps are nonsensical climate zones. A single continent contains hot deserts, forests, and glaciers, and you can get through it all in a single day. This is particularly noticeable in video games, where this is often done to offer visual variety (Enderal, the game I wrote, is very guilty of this). If you aim for realism, run your worldbuilding by someone with a basic grasp of geography and geology, or at least try to match it to real-life examples.

3)  Avoid Island Continent Worlds: Another issue that is quite common in fictional worlds is what I would call the “island continents”: a world that is made up of island-like continents surrounded by vast bodies of water. As lovely and romantic as the idea of those distant and secluded worlds may be, it’s deeply unrealistic. Unless your world was shaped by geological forces that differ substantially from Earth’s, it was probably at one point a single landmass that split up into fragmented landmasses separated by waters. Take a look at a proper map of our world: the vast majority of continents could theoretically be reached by foot and relatively manageable sea passages. If it weren’t so, countries such as Australia could have never been colonized – you can’t cross an entire ocean on a raft.

4)  Logical City Placement: My novel is set in a Polynesian-inspired tropical archipelago; in the early drafts of the book and on my first map, Uunili, the nation’s capital, stretched along the entire western coast of the main island. This is absurd. Not only because this city would have been laughably big, but also because building a settlement along an unprotected coastline is the dumbest thing you could do considering it directly exposes it to storms, floods, and, in my case, monsoons. Unless there’s a logical reason to do otherwise, always place your coastal settlements in bays or fjords.

 Naturally, this extends to city placement in general. If you want realism and coherence, don’t place a city in the middle of a godforsaken wasteland or a swamp just because it’s cool. There needs to be a reason. For example, the wasteland city could have started out as a mining town around a vast mineral deposit, and the swamp town might have a trading post along a vital trade route connecting two nations.

 5)  Realistic Settlement Sizes: As I’ve mentioned before, my capital Uunili originally extended across the entire western coast. Considering Uunili is roughly two thirds the size of Hawaii  the old visuals would have made it twice the size of Mexico City. An easy way to avoid this is to draw the map using a scale and stick to it religiously. For my map, we decided to represent cities and townships with symbols alone.

 6)  Realistic Megacities: Uunili has a population of about 450,000 people. For a city in a Middle Ages-inspired era, this is humongous. While this isn’t an issue, per se (at its height, ancient Alexandria had a population of about 300,000), a city of that size creates its own set of challenges: you’ll need a complex sewage system (to minimize disease spreading like wildfire) and strong agriculture in the surrounding areas to keep the population fed. Also, only a small part of such a megacity would be enclosed within fantasy’s ever-so-present colossal city walls; the majority of citizens would probably concentrate in an enormous urban sprawl in the surrounding areas. To give you a pointer, with a population of about 50,000, Cologne was Germany’s biggest metropolis for most of the Middle Ages. I’ll say it again: it’s fine to disregard realism for coolness in this case, but at least taking these things into consideration will not only give your world more texture but might even provide you with some interesting plot points.

 7)  World Origin: This point can be summed up in a single question: why is your world the way it is? If your novel is set in an archipelago like mine is, are the islands of volcanic origin? Did they use to be a single landmass that got flooded with the years? Do the inhabitants of your country know about this? Were there any natural disasters to speak of? Yes, not all of this may be relevant to the story, and the story should take priority over lore, but just like with my previous point, it will make your world more immersive.

 8)  Maps: Think Purpose! Every map in history had a purpose. Before you start on your map, think about what yours might have been. Was it a map people actually used for navigation? If so, clarity should be paramount. This means little to no distracting ornamentation, a legible font, and a strict focus on relevant information. For example, a map used chiefly for military purposes would naturally highlight different information than a trade map. For my novel, we ultimately decided on a “show-off map” drawn for the Blue Island Coalition, a powerful political entity in the archipelago (depending on your world’s technology level, maps were actually scarce and valuable). Also, think about which technique your in-universe cartographer used to draw your in-universe map. Has copperplate engraving already been invented in your fictional universe? If not, your map shouldn’t use that aesthetic.

9)  Maps: Less Is More. If a spot or an area on a map contains no relevant information, it can (and should) stay blank so that the reader’s attention naturally shifts to the critical information. Think of it this way: if your nav system tells you to follow a highway for 500 miles, that’s the information you’ll get, and not “in 100 meters, you’ll drive past a little petrol station on the left, and, oh, did I tell you about that accident that took place here ten years ago?” Traditional maps follow the same principle: if there’s a road leading a two day’s march through a desolate desert, a black line over a blank white ground is entirely sufficient to convey that information.

10) Settlement and Landmark Names: This point will be a bit of a tangent, but it’s still relevant. I worked with a linguist to create a fully functional language for my novel, and one of the things he criticized about my early drafts were the names of my cities. It’s embarrassing when I think about it now, but I really didn’t pay that much attention to how I named my cities; I wanted it to sound good, and that was it. Again: if realism is your goal, that’s a big mistake. Like Point 5, we went back to the drawing board and dove into the archipelago’s history and established naming conventions. In my novel, for example, the islands were inhabited by indigenes called the Makehu before the colonization four hundred years before the events of the story; as it’s usually the case, all settlements and islands had purely descriptive names back then. For example, the main island was called Uni e Li, which translates as “Mighty Hill,” a reference to the vast mountain ranges in the south and north; townships followed the same example (e.g., Tamakaha meaning “Coarse Sands”). When the colonizers arrived, they adopted the Makehu names and adapted them into their own language, changing the accented, long vowels to double vowels: Uni e Li became “Uunili,” Lehō e Āhe became “Lehowai.” Makehu townships kept their names; colonial cities got “English” monikers named after their geographical location, economic significance, or some other original story. Examples of this are Southport, a—you guessed it—port on the southernmost tip of Uunili, or Cale’s Hope, a settlement named after a businessman’s mining venture. It’s all details, and chances are that most readers won’t even pay attention, but I personally found that this added a lot of plausibility and immersion.

I could cover a lot more, but this post is already way too long, so I’ll leave it at that—if there’s enough interest, I’d be happy to make a part two. If not, well, maybe at least a couple of you got something useful out of this. If you’re looking for inspiration/references to show to your illustrator/cartographer, the David Rumsey archive is a treasure trove. Finally, for anyone who doesn’t know and might be interested, my novel is called Dreams of the Dying, and is a blends fantasy, mystery, and psychological horror set in the universe of Enderal, an indie RPG for which I wrote the story. It’s set in a Polynesian-inspired medieval world and has been described as Inception in a fantasy setting by reviewers.

Credit for the map belongs to Dominik Derow, who did the ornamentation, and my friend Fabian Müller, who created the map in QGIS and answered all my questions with divine patience. The linguist’s name is David Müller (no, they’re not related, and, yes, we Germans all have the same last names.)

[kiki-shortsnout]

Intimacy prompt 34 and 37 for IronStrange pleaze?.

Oh I think Have I Ever is my favorite work of yours in intimacy because there's no way those 2 will get together without being dramatic first haha XD

Hey! Thank you for the ask, and thank you for the compliment, I'm happy you're enjoying these prompts!

Whew! I'm making some progress on these prompts!

***

‘Do you regret it?’

Tony pulled up his sunglasses so he could give him the full effect of his unimpressed stare.

‘Am I supposed to pluck the context out of thin air, Strange? Regret what?’ he asked, flicking his sunglasses back into place, and sinking his feet further into the scorching sand. He heard the breath leaving the wizard’s lungs as he sat up on the blanket, the shift of bare skin across the fibers of it.

‘No, because you know exactly what I’m talking about.’

Groaning dramatically, Tony flung his arms out behind him to support his weight as he leant back, palms stinging from the heat of the sand, glorious, smoldering heat. He didn’t answer straight away, keeping his gaze locked on Morgan leaping through the frothy waves, Peter a few seconds behind her, just as excited.

‘No. No, I don’t regret it.’

His divorce with Pepper wasn’t something he liked to talk about, but their relationship was well past the point of idle chitchat. Hours wedged together on an alien spaceship would do that. They’d stared at death incarnate together, had given everything they could to stop Thanos, and that formed a connection between people, regardless of their backgrounds.

Magical or not.

Tony sat up, inching closer to the shade Stephen had refused to leave the whole time they’d been at Malibu, and taking a moment to eye up his milky white skin. The man looked like he could get sunburnt in the shade. Using magic to tilt the umbrella so Tony could share, Stephen scooped up the seashells Morgan had found earlier, gleaming treasure she had entrusted him with their safekeeping.

It made him smile, how seriously Stephen treated her, and it made an unusual sensation stir in his chest, a feeling he hadn’t felt in a long time, not since he’d first started dating Pepper.

‘I think she loved the idea of me, what I could be, what I would’ve been if not for Iron Man,’ Tony said suddenly, watching his kids screech as the Cloak chased after them, shaking water from its fabric, indicating it’d been dunked in saltwater.

‘I wanted to be that man for her, I really did, and she’s still one of the most important people to me, not because she’s the mother of my child, but because I love her. I always will, just not in the way she deserves.’

‘Tony, this wasn’t an excuse for you to start tearing your self-esteem into ribbons,’ Stephen scolded.

‘I’m not, I’m answering your question. I knew, we both knew as soon as I leapt aboard the alien doughnut that it was over. We tried to work past it, all of us left behind in the five years you guys were gone tried to cobble our lives back together, but it…’ Tony sighed, scooping up a handful of sand and gazing at the millions of sun-kissed gems, fragments that created a whole.

‘I get it, I suppose it’s hard to love a hero, it’s hard to understand…unless you’re one yourself.’

‘I don’t blame her for wanting me to give up Iron Man, I get it, I just…couldn’t. I tried, but as soon as you came to me about Thanos, I knew I had to go…I didn’t stop to think about how it might affect her, jumping on another suicide mission.’

Tony reached over Stephen’s ridiculously long legs to reach his can of lemonade he’d left there earlier, grimacing at the warmth of the liquid, but grateful for the way it soothed his dry throat.

‘What about you, asshole, you got a special lady?’ Tony asked, deflecting the conversation.

‘Nope, no special someone,’ Stephen stressed the last part, watching the kids in the water and inhaling deeply.

Now that Tony didn’t know. He should’ve really, after the flirty little wink he’d given when they’d first met, but Tony had chalked that up to the man showing off his impressive skills. Tony wasn’t arrogant enough that he couldn’t admit Stephen had an extraordinary repertoire of skills, and the man could fight…but he didn’t have to verbalize it.

Strange had a big enough head already.

‘You were right, this…this was needed,’ Stephen said, waving a hand at the beach, indicating the this. Tony was distracted by the tremble in his fingers, the slender scars across his fingers and the back of his hands, revealing the trauma, the pain he must have felt having pins in his bones.

He could understand that, the story scars left behind, the proof of their hubris.

‘Well, I promised you both, didn’t I? Once we got back to Earth and everyone was saved, we were going to have a holiday. No outer space travels, no insane alien overlords trying to destroy us. Just us, the sun, sea and warm lemonade,’ Tony held his up in a toast, grinning as Stephen grabbed his own can and clinked the side of it.

Morgan had stopped running in the sea and was now digging a hole in the sand with her bare hands, watching as the tide came in and filled it, trying to create a moat of sorts. Lifting her head, Tony watched the briny breeze tease her salt-crusted tangles away from her face. His love for her startled him at times, how he could love another being as much as this. He loved Peter too, the kid had been his driving force to discover the trick behind time travel, and he’d risked everything to bring him home.

Thinking about them both made other feelings surface too, black oozing things that he tried to suppress, negative feelings about why his own father couldn’t have felt the same, if one day he would treat Morgan and Peter with the same cold-hearted disregard.

‘Tony, hey douchebag, you alright?’

The sun overhead burnt his gaze gold as he lifted his eyes, leaving him dazed and blinking back tears.

‘Yeah, sorry, I’m good.’

‘You drifted away there…anything you want to talk about?’ Stephen asked, his tone careful, trying not to probe.

‘Nah, Doc, just my daddy issues rearing their ugly head again.’

Stephen looked at him then, his aquamarine eyes glowing from the sun’s reflection, and Tony felt like his gaze was burning back the layers he swathed himself in, piercing his body and reading his mind. He couldn’t explain it, but he’d always had the sense Stephen knew more than what he revealed, that he could see things in the fabric of the universe that Tony was blind to.

Fourteen million futures, each a glimpse of a possibility, how many more of them were out there? What else had Stephen seen?

‘Tony, you’re a wonderful parent,’ Stephen argued.

‘How would you know!’ He regretted the snap, knowing it was part of his self-defense mechanism, but Stephen didn’t know him that well yet to recognize it for what it was, and he opened his mouth to apologize when he suddenly found a trembling hand across his mouth.

‘Because I’ve watched you with them. I saw you with Peter on the ship, the sheer horror in your eyes when you thought you’d brought him to his death, I could literally hear your brain trying to think of a way to send him home. With Morgan, Tony, you worship the ground she walks on, you’re caring, attentive…’ Stephen trailed off, a slight redness to his cheeks as he let his hand fall.

Tony went to warn him that he was burning from the sun when he caught sight of Stephen’s gaze fixed on his lips. Feeling daunting, he let the tip of his tongue come out to wet his bottom lip, suppressing his laugh when he saw Stephen’s blush deepen, his gaze turning back towards the sea.

He could do one of two things here. Ignore what had just happened and go back to the carefree attitude they were enjoying at the beach, or address the issue and explore the possibilities of what it could mean for them. Despite how quickly his brain tended to work, the way it could create possible scenarios and see them through in order for him to select the best one, Tony found himself hesitating.

‘When you said it’s hard to love a hero…were you referring to yourself?’ Tony asked.

Stephen didn’t answer for a moment, his gaze now on the Cloak shielding the kids from the worst of the sunshine, its collar dipping down as it tried to examine the castle Peter was building beside Morgan’s moat.

‘It’s not hard to love you,’ Stephen answered, his words nearly lost in the breeze.

‘I’ll have you know it’s near impossible to love me,’ Tony joked, his mouth moving faster than his brain. ‘I’m a mess, I forget about people when I’m inventing, I’ll always put the safety of Earth before my partner-’

Stephen’s mouth on his made his ramblings stop, the touch of shaking fingers on his jaw felt like wind brushing over sunburnt skin, blistering and soothing in equal measure.

‘It’s because of those things that I like you,’ Stephen murmured against his lips. ‘It’s not the idea of you I love, Tony Stark, I know who you are. Fourteen million versions of you.’

Despite the surprise he felt at this revelation, the clench in his gut from the anticipation of what this could mean, Tony smiled against his lips, leaning closer.

‘Sorry I didn’t ask,’ Stephen whispered across his mouth. ‘Can I kiss you again, Tony?’ His free hand covered Tony’s on the sand as the other continued to sweep across his jawbone, down to his throat and back again.

‘I could be persuaded,’ Tony agreed with a laugh, pretending to fight off Stephen’s tongue invading his mouth, falling back to the ground dramatically. ‘Why, Doctor Strange, I didn’t know you had it in you!’ he mock gasped, wriggling away from Stephen’s lunge, and getting to his feet as he scrambled down to the water.

‘Prepare to eat seawater, Stark,’ Stephen growled from behind him, giving chase.

He’d never seen himself in this position five years ago, hadn’t been able to see past the frigid metal walls of the doughnut ship as he hurtled forward on his suicide mission, but he was glad events had led him here. Looking over his shoulder at Stephen’s skin gleaming in the light as he pelted after Tony on the beach, he screamed for Morgan to save him, cackling as she ordered the Cloak to stop the Sorcerer Supreme.

This wasn’t where he saw his life at all, divorced, a beautiful daughter, an all but adopted mutant child, a sentient Cloak and a potential wizard boyfriend, but he was happy.

For the first time in years, he could say with complete honesty that he was content with his life.

[screamingatanemptyroom]

Please Fix the Story Pt 20 - Sci Fi

New part! I've felt more inspired lately, and am happy to share the next installment of the PFTS series.

Warning, a little bit of angst ahead.

Masterpost linked here.

Enjoy!

_____________________________

“That’s amazing!”

Pausing in my exercise with the Mech, I turned to look over at Liam who was standing off to the side of training room. He was watching me with bright eyes, a small container and a water bottle held tightly in his hands.

I stood in the training room holding a sword, practicing different strikes, while the Mech behind me held its own large sword, mimicking my movements through the Connection. The distance between us made it more difficult, but I felt the stuttering in its attacks slowly smooth out as I practiced.

I made an overhead swing, feeling the mild throbbing at my temples increase as the Mech made the same movement just a quarter second behind. Now, finished with the set of attacks I had set for myself, I sheathed the practice weapon and turned towards my enthusiastic audience.

“Hey, Liam!”

Severing the Connection with my Mech, I felt relief as the mental drain halted. Now free to move around, I walked towards him with a smile. “What brought you here?”

He grinned shyly. “I wanted to see you practice. Your control is amazing! I can’t believe you can Connect with your Mech from that distance. Also…” He hesitated, “You seem much more comfortable with a sword than you did with the pistols, no offense.”

“None taken. The sword IS much more comfortable.” I thought about the memory fragments of me refusing to give up using a sword. “I just think I might not be meant for ranged weapons.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re happy! Here you go.” He reached out, holding up a container of water for me to drink from.

“Thanks.”

“I also brought cake.”

I nearly choked in the midst of taking a drink. “Really? You didn’t have to. At this rate you’re going to spoil me.”

“Good.” Liam clutched the container to his chest, looking pleased. “You deserve it.”

“Whatever you say.” I shook my head, finished my drink and then paused. “…Can I ask you a question?”

His smile faded at my serious tone. “Go ahead.”

“Your mental barrier… if it’s up all the time, how are we standing so close together? Also, you’ve handed me things, and even touched me when you helped me up that one time, right?” I felt excited internally, but tried not to show it. “Does that mean I’m not affected by your barrier?”

“… I wish that were true.”

My heart sank with disappointment as Liam sighed, looking down at the ground. “With people I trust, the barrier shrinks. The more I trust them, the smaller the barrier is. My parents can stand close to me.” His eyes turned towards me again, and then back down. “You… you can get closer than anyone else.”

Liam reached out his hand, and following his lead I reached out as well until our palms touched. He studied our hands with a fascinated but sad expression.

“We are so close, it almost seems like we are touching. But there’s still a barrier.”

“So I’m not touching you?”

“No, not directly.” He looked like he wanted to cry. “I can’t feel it. It’s just the barrier.”

“… I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I’m used to it.” Shrugging, he grabbed my hand and led me over to a nearby table and chairs. “Honestly, getting as close as this is already a miracle.”

I sat down on the chair, watching as he set up the cake on a plate with utensils. “So you really trust me, huh?”

The movement of his hands paused as he ducked his head, blushing. A mumbled “yes” made it to my ears. Chuckling, I didn’t push him any further. I sat and ate, enjoying the cake he had brought. We didn’t talk, but it was a comfortable silence.

I feel like I’ve known him forever, but I just met him recently.

Putting the odd thought aside, I finished the cake and stood up, brushing the crumbs from my uniform.

“Well, thank you for the delicious cake! But now, I'm afraid I have to get back to practice.”

Liam stood up as well, his expression concerned. “Really? Already? I thought the doctor in the infirmary told you to take it easy after the strain during the mock battles?”

“Just a few more practice swings, it will be fine.”

I don’t know how I’m going to save the world without a Connector. The best I can do is try to become as strong as possible, and hope my mind holds together long enough.

I took a stance near my Mech once more, drawing my practice sword. Glancing over at Liam, who still looked worried, I grinned. “Want to join me?”

“No, I’m terrible with a sword.” He slowly returned the smile, and sat down on the sidelines. “I’ll just watch you from here. Make sure not to overdo it.”

“I know. Just a little more practice.” I made the Connection, pleasantly surprised when my head didn’t ache right away. “Honestly, I think I’m tolerating the mental drain better.”

Liam didn’t seem reassured. “Be careful.”

_____________________________

“Be careful.”

I swung my sword in a quick practice swing, and laughed. “I’m always careful.”

“Says the woman who is going monster hunting.”

“You don’t have to come along.”

I was pulled into a warm embrace. “And let you face danger without me? Never.”

_____________________________

I blinked, mildly disoriented by the sudden memory. They had been coming more and more frequently, as if my mind was desperate to piece together who I had been before I arrived in this world.

“Alaira?”

“I’m fine…” I blinked again, but the forest in my memory didn’t fade away, but simply overlapped with the practice room around me.

Where am I?

“Alaira?”

I tried to look around, but everything was fading into darkness. “I’m…”

“ALAIRA!”

Liam’s panicked shout followed me into oblivion.

_____________________________

Well, at least I recognize this place.

I woke up in the infirmary, groaning as I held my pounding head.

“You’re an idiot.”

The stern voice of the doctor pulled my attention, and I looked up at the middle-aged woman who was glaring at me from a few feet away.

“Wow, your bedside manner is so warm and fuzzy.” I mumbled, rubbing my forehead.

“My bedside manner is saved for patients with a brain. You obviously lost yours somewhere, so you get tough love.” She waved a scanner over my head, frowning. “I told you to take it easy after you passed out during the mock battles!”

“I did! I haven’t done any fighting since that day.”

Her eyes narrowed. “What were you doing in the practice room, then?”

“Practicing with my sword?”

“WHILE Connected to your Mech from 20 feet away?? You didn’t think that might cause a bit of mental strain??!” She sighed, staring up at the ceiling hopelessly. “Lord, give me strength to deal with young, dumb students.”

The doctor sat down on a nearby chair, staring at me seriously. “You have to listen to me, Alaira. This is really important.”

“Okay.” I sat up in bed, folding my hands in my lap and trying to appear attentive. “I’m listening.”

“Your powers have grown. You were already S level when you underwent your health check at the beginning of your second year, but now… it’s at least multiplied by 10.” She shook her head. “We don’t even have a ranking for your power level. I don’t know what’s happened in the last month, it’s almost as if you’ve become a completely different person.”

I am a completely different person… at least I think I am. Is it because I’m in Alaira’s body now that her powers have changed?

I had no way to explain that to the doctor though. “So the power increase… that's a good thing, right?”

“It would be… if you had matched with a Connector.” She sighed. “With your current power level, your mental degradation rate has sped up exponentially.”

“…”

“The passing out is just one of the early signs, Alaira. Have you experienced anything else? Headaches…”

Yes.

“Irritability…”

I thought that was just my personality.

“Hallucinations… flashes of people or memories that aren’t real or never happened?”

“…”

I sat silently, stunned.

No… It can’t be. The memories in my head… the mission… Alaira’s memories of dying in a fight against the Hive… me waking up in a different world… could it all be just my mind breaking apart?

She watched my facial expression and silence with a frown. “So it’s even worse than I thought.” She brought up a holographic file and made a note.

“I…”

“No. No excuses, Alaira. You are temporarily suspended from duty until further notice. I can’t risk your safety any further.”

“But, I’m the strongest Guardian we have!” I was desperately grasping at straws. “You can’t sideline me! What if I found a Connector?”

The doctor shook her head. “I don’t even want you trying to match right now. It takes mental power, and could be the tipping point to full mental degradation.”

“But…”

“No. Alaira. You’re suspended. That’s final.”

WARNING! MISSION FAILURE IMMINENT!

TOTAL COMPLETION 5%

MISSION FAILURE WILL RESULT IN WORLD COLLAPSE AND DESTRUCTION OF THE SOUL. PLEASE COMPLETE THE MISSION.

The bright blue words appeared in front of my eyes. I glanced over at the doctor, who didn’t seem to notice them.

Is this real? Am I really here for a mission to save the world? Or is this just a product of my mental degradation?

“Do you understand, Alaira?”

WARNING!

“I do.”

She relaxed. “Good. Then return to your dorm and rest. I’ll notify your father to come pick you up.” She gathered her things and stood up, giving me a sympathetic smile. “I know it’s hard, but put being a Guardian, the Hive, all of it to the side right now. Just focus on your health.”

WARNING! MISSION FAILURE IMMINENT!

“I know.”

“And Alaira?”

WARNING!

“Yes?”

“Stay away from your Mech and the matching center, okay?”

“Of course.” I smiled. “I’ll just stay in my room.”

_____________________________

I snuck out of my room that same night.

I don’t know what’s real and what’s not… but I really don’t want to risk world collapse and soul destruction. Those both sound pretty bad.

As I crept through the hallways towards the Match center, I thought through possible plans to get me out of this situation.

First. Let's try matching again. If that doesn’t work… Maybe talk to Alaira’s father? See if there’s any research in slowing the progression of mental degradation?

I heard a security guard coming down the hallway. Panicking, I hid in the nearest classroom. The floor was ice cold even through the cloth of my uniform; my heartbeat was loud in my ears as I listened to the guard pass by on the other side of the door.

Either way, I can’t get caught just yet. I can’t risk missing what might be my last chance to match.

The guard had moved on. I waited a few moments just to be safe before opening the door and sneaking down the hallway once more. My mind was racing, circling around the disturbing idea that it was too afraid to touch:

The possibility that everything I thought was real was actually just my mind breaking down.

Am I really Alaira? Why does the man in my memories keep calling me Bel?

Who am I?

What is real?

It was agonizing, every moment of uncertainty. Questioning every memory, every conversation.

I pushed it from my mind, focusing on each step ahead of me. I needed to get to the Match Center.

If I can match a Connector, it will resolve my mental decay, and then I’ll know what's real.

I tried really hard not to think about what would happen if I still couldn’t find a Connector.

I quietly opened the door to the Match center.

“Match unable to be made.”

At the sound of the cold, robotic voice, I froze in place. For a wild moment I wondered if the match computer had sensed me walking in the building, and decided to reject me at the doorway just to save time. But reason set in and I recognized the figure hunched over the panel:

Liam.

“Unrecognized tester. Please let down your mental barrier to proceed with Match testing.” The voice echoed around the room, seeming to almost physically strike Liam as he slumped further in front of the glowing panel.

His hands tightened into fists as he pressed them harder against the machine. “I’m trying to let it down. Just run the test!”

“Please let down your mental barrier to proceed with Match testing.”

“Just let me test, dammit!”

“Please let down your mental barrier to proceed with Match testing.” Despite his franticness, the voice was cold and unchanged.

“PLEASE!” His fist struck the panel as he slumped to ground. “Let me try. Please…”

He was crying, and my chest hurt as I watched. “Please… let me match her.”

“… Match unable to me made.”

“Liam.” I whispered his name, feeling as if my heart was tearing in half.

“Please.” He sobbed into his hands. "I can't... I can't put it down... I just want to help her... please!"

_____________________________

“Please. Let her go. I’ll do anything.” His voice was shaking with fear, his wide eyes staring at me as I was trapped in place, unable to move.

“Just give up. This is her fate.”

“Let her go!” He reached forward desperately, unable to reach me. “BEL!”

_____________________________

“Liam.” I was crying, unable to control it.

These memories can’t just be hallucinations. They are too real. I looked over at Liam who was striking his fist over and over against the panel, ignoring the blood staining the surface as his skin tore under the repeated blows.

He’s just hurting himself. It was painful to watch. I have to stop him.

I started to walk forward, my hand reaching out…

“Liam…”

Before I could call out, I felt a sharp prick on my arm. I tried to turn to around and look, but soon a burning sensation was building deep in my muscle and my mind went blank.

“Liam…” I tried to call him once last time, as the drug injected into my arm forced me into unconsciousness.

_____________________________

Okay this whole passing out thing has gotten really old.

My mind grumbled as I slowly regained consciousness. I blinked, trying to clear the blurriness in my vision. Did a security guard find me? If so, their curfew enforcement is pretty insane if they are knocking out students.

The room around me slowly came into focus.

Wait… this isn’t the infirmary.

It was a pale grey dorm room.

This isn’t’ my room either. Feeling uneasy, I looked around, barely able to move. My limbs felt as if they were filled with lead, my head foggy.

The dorm room was clean, with barely any personal items on the desk and dresser. On the wall was several posters of famous Guardians, a calendar was pinned nearby with a vigorous Mech training schedule.

I have a bad feeling about this…

“Alaira, you’re awake!” A voice called out from the doorway, sounding pleasantly surprised.

I turned my head with great difficulty, my eyes widening at the sight. “…Chris?”

“I’m so glad you’re okay!” He smiled at me, grabbing the chair from the desk and dragging it to the bedside before sitting down. “When you asked me not to take you to the infirmary, I was worried I was doing the wrong thing.”

He seems… different.

“…” I wanted to shake my head, but felt to weak. “No… I was in the Matching Center…”

He frowned at my words, looking confused. “Matching Center? We ran into each other in the hallway. You were on the verge of passing out, and asked me to take you back to your room. “ Pausing, he shrugged embarrassedly. “Then you fainted. I don’t have access to the female dorms, so I brought you to my room instead. I hope you don’t mind.”

“…Liam.” It was difficult to talk. “Where’s Liam?”

“Liam? Do you mean Prince William?” Chris seemed even more confused. “He took leave and returned home after you passed out during your training.”

“But…”

“I think he felt a little guilty at not being able to help you match. Not that it’s his fault he can’t form the Connection.”

“I saw him.” I tried to focus my thoughts, but they kept scattering. “I saw him in the Match Room.”

Chris leaned forward, reaching for my hand. I pulled away, but was too weak to break his grip. “Alaira. You’re undergoing mental degradation. The doctor in the infirmary said you were already in the late stages. It’s common to have hallucinations, memories of interactions with people and conversations that never happened.”

I blinked. Could I have imagined the whole thing? Did I want to think that Liam was in the Match Room trying to save me, instead of running away without telling me?

How far gone was I? What was real, and what was just my mind degrading?

Something’s not right.I remembered the needle prick in my arm, and brought my free hand to the spot in confusion.

“What are you rubbing your arm for?”

“I… was stuck with a needle…”

He shook his head. “That didn’t happen. You hit your arm on the wall when you passed out, so it might be a little sore, but that’s it. There was no needle. Your brain just came up with a reason to explain the pain.”

“…”

“It’s okay, Alaira. It’s okay.” Chris squeezed my hand. “It’s normal to be confused, and a little paranoid. Your brain is breaking under the strain of the Connection to your Mech. We’ll help you. You’re going to be okay.”

WARNING! MISSION FAILURE IMMINENT!

TOTAL COMPLETION 3%

MISSION FAILURE WILL RESULT IN WORLD COLLAPSE AND DESTRUCTION OF THE SOUL. PLEASE COMPLETE THE MISSION.

“Alaira? Do you hear me?” Chris called out, concerned.

“I’m… not going to give up. I have to face the Hive. Save… the world.” My thoughts were still jumbled. I wasn’t sure if it was from the drug or mental degradation. What was real and what was fake was blurring.

“You’re not going to be suspended. You’re going to be the most powerful Guardian the world has ever seen, and you’re going to save humanity.”

I looked over at Chris, feeling confused. He wore a pleasant smile on his face, his posture relaxed, but his grip on my hand was just a little too tight, and his eyes…

… His eyes were different. The color, the shape, was the same… but the way he looked at me had changed.

“Who are you?” I asked quietly, forcing the words out through slightly numb lips.

He looked shocked. “What do you mean? It’s me, Chris. We’ve known each other since the first Mock battle in school.” He chuckled. “You kicked my butt, remember?”

“Now I know you aren’t Chris. You haven’t yelled at me that 'you’re going to follow your dream and I can’t stop it' this whole conversation. You’re not Chris. “

He laughed, a light, easy sound. “You’re right, I’ve changed. But I’m still Chris, I promise.” He reached out and patted the back of my hand, still grasped tightly in his own. “You see, I came to a realization: I was jealous of you.”

“…”

“I know, right? Self-insight from me seems like a foreign concept. But from the first day I was in awe of your skills, jealous of your level S abilities.” He sighed, leaning back, still holding my hand, ignoring my attempts to free it. “My only consolation was that you were a loner, that you couldn’t find a Match. It was the one thing that I beat you in.”

“You…”

“I kept trying to brag in front of you, hoping that you would recognize me. Hoping that you would tell me that I was the real deal, that I was a true Guardian. But that doesn’t excuse how poorly I treated you. How my friends treated you.” His regretful gaze held my own. I felt trapped in it. “I’m sorry. I will do better going forward.”

“…” My head was starting to clear, but it was a slow process.

“Seeing you pass out after our fight… seeing you in the infirmary today… in the hallway just now… I can’t ignore this.” He sighed. “You’re breaking down, right in front of me. And I can’t let this happen… not when I can stop it.”

He got off of the chair kneeling next to the bed. He reached out with his other hand, holding mine between both of his palms.

“Alaira… you’ve already have a high resonance match with me. I can save your mind, and help you save the world. It’s such an easy solution.” He smiled at me, without any sign of reluctance at all.

I felt a silent scream of terror and rage build up in my chest. I wanted to reach out and stop him, to silence his next sentence. Despite my wishes, however, his words came out all too clearly:

“I’ll be your Connector.”

[xenospacebabe]

Broken Wings

Hawks drabble

A/N: So I imagine for some reason that regular doctors and surgeons are capable of treating Hawks to a fault. But when it comes to his wings, they’re a bit...lost?

Summary: After coping with treating injuries to his wings by himself, Hawks finds himself with a more serious injury than he can handle. He can’t open his wings, or fly. The pain is mind numbing. He finds himself breaking into an animal clinic for some help.

Warning: Broken bones. Mild language

HawksxReader

7am. The doors don’t open until 8:30, but you still had things to do from yesterday that weren’t even started. Clutching your steel tumblr full of coffee that’ll barely scratch the surface of your exhaustion, you stifled a yawn and crawled out of your car. Barely remembering to lock it. You always parked on the side of the building so as not to take up any spaces in front. The key missed the lock a few times before eventually sliding inside and turning to the side.

The moment you turned on the lights, a couple of dogs in the back already started barking, hungry for breakfast and ready to go home. Your veterinary clinic was modest in size, but it was always busy. It was your father’s practice before he retired and passed it down to you after finishing school. Now it was all yours. It was hard work, but your clients were loyal. Many of them have been around since the place opened almost 30 years ago. You were the vet that people would recommend to their friends who needed help and had struggles affording it. Your clinic was the one that everyone knew cared the most about patients rather than money. And it showed. While your profits were great, it wasn’t what you were concerned the most about.

After setting down your things in your office, you tied back your hair into a high ponytail and took a long drink of your “breakfast.” You looked at the white board on your wall, deciding which surgery from yesterday to start on first. Picking the cat spay, you headed towards the back to get started. Passing surgery and into the kennels, you found your patient and greeted her with a sweet voice and scratches on her cheeks.

“Good morning, Sadie. You ready, sweet girl? C’mon.” The cat whined tiredly as you scooped her into your arms to bring into the surgical room. But when you lifted your head and looked inside you screamed. Unfortunately, this spooked your cat and she bolted out of your arms to hide under the kennels.

“AH SHIT! Sadie! Sadie c’mere girl! Who are you?!” There sitting on your operating counter was a man. A shirtless man with enormous wings that nearly filled the small room. He was covered in decently serious lacerations and wounds that made the surface of his skin look like a blue, black, green, and purple water color canvas. He looked terrible with deep bags under his eyes. However, he looked at you through messy strands of hair that hung in his face with a tired but smug expression.

“Really? You don’t know who I am?” He said, his voice croaking out with a subtle groan of pain. Your eyes shifted from his, those golden pools that shined like the sun, to the massive crimson wings. They, too, looked to be in disarray. Feathers stuck out in random places, others crumpled, many painted in blood. However his left hung in a slightly abnormal manner.

“I’m sorry. You shocked me all of a sudden. You’re Hawks right? What are you doing here? How did you even get in? The doors were all locked.” As you finished your statement, a single red feather lifted in mid air and hovered, showing you its bent up quill. He picked the lock with the feather and locked it behind him.

“Sorry. I just-..mmgghh...I think it’s broken. And the clowns at the city hospital the commission would send me to aren’t capable of fixing it. I found you online, you do exotics, right? Birds and stuff?”

All the while he was explaining his situation, you were assessing his condition. The area that connected the wing to his back appeared incredibly swollen, and slightly out of place. Without thinking, you reached out to palpate the area causing him to immediately flinch and groan out loud.

“Sorry! Sorry. I’m used to my patients being-...well animals. But yes, I’m a small animal and exotics vet. There’s a couple birds I’ve been treating for a long time.” Now this time, as you were talking, Hawks had his eyes trained on you. He was listening to every word you spoke intently. “Some of them were my dad’s patients before he retired. Shows how old they can get.”

Hawks braced the cold steel of the table, crouching forward some. His skin seemed damp with sweat, the pain he was in must have been affecting his body temperature. You needed to act quickly if you were going to save his wing.

“Okay, so. I have to touch it. I need to get a couple xrays to see if we have any breaks and we’ll go from there. I don’t....all I have are sedatives for animals. Would that..?”

“It’s fine, ain’t no pain out there that I can’t handle.” He looked at you with a charming smirk, clearly flexing his pain threshold to impress you. Because he looked you up and down and liked what he saw. Even in those scrubs which were relatively form fitting but patterened in cartoon cats and dogs.

“I’m serious. This is really going to hurt. Are you-“

“I said I can handle it.” Hawks snapped, frustrated with the questions now. He just wanted the pain to stop. And besides, that cute look on your blushing face was too good to miss.

“Alright...well...first you need to help me find my cat that you scared off.”

“You mean this one?” Appearing in front of you held under the arms and the butt by a trio of feathers was your very angry, very sleepy cat. You sighed in relief and retrieved her into your arms. It took some settling to calm her down but you were a natural with all animals. It came so easily. She was comfortable in her kennel when you set her back inside and you felt your brain shift gears.

You first had to get your hands on the wing. Just to get a feel of what you were working with. You’d never seen such beautiful, red feathers before. Even though you saw parrots and other birds daily. These were just...breathtaking. But even the most beautiful wings didn’t stop the pain of broken bones. Hawks groaned behind tight lips when you gently palpated the swollen wing. Inside you felt the distinct break and slight crunchiness that accompanied it. The growling in his throat didn’t frighten you, after all, you dealt with aggressive animals day in and day out.

“Y-you almost finished there, Doc? Agghh...” He finally outwardly complained when you flexed his wing. Your hands were gentle but it was still nearly unbearable. Slowly and carefully, you folded his wing back down into its natural resting position.

“Okay, I’m sorry. I know it hurts. But thank you for holding still. Alright. Let’s do some xrays.”

After some struggling and repositioning, and many awkward brushes of hands and faces, you and Hawks were successful in taking some clear shots of what you determined was a broken wing. You didn’t notice his eyes on you as you explained it to him. The room was dark, illuminated only by the backlight box that made it possible to see the xray photos. But he was studying your face quite intently.

The space between your eyebrows crinkled a little when you would point to a specific spot on the xray in concentration. When you were quiet in thought, your tongue pressed against your cheek or you nibbled your bottom lip. The slope of your nose was accentuated by the pale shine of the light box to make it look like you had a cute button nose. Everything you were saying filled his ears but didn’t register as anything coherent. Eventually, you noticed.

“Hawks? Are you okay? Are you in pain?” Your voice brought him out of the trance he’d slipped into and he blinked rapidly to soothe his eyes. He hadn’t blinked once.

“Oh! Uh-...aheh...I’m fine. And please...call me Keigo.”

“Keigo?”

“Yeah, that’s my real name. Hawks is just my hero name. I can trust you, yeah?” He looked down at you with those eyes that you swore were glowing and swallowed harshly. Suddenly your throat was dry.

“R-right! I knew that. Keigo...so...like I said. The break is pretty clean. Luckily there’s no fragments or splinters that would make a problem.”

“So what can you do to fix me?” He lied, though, about being in pain. Broken bones were painful enough. But a broken bone that carried the heavy weight of his wing was absolutely agonizing. However, years of working as a pro hero conditioned him into hiding his pain from his enemies.

“Well, there isn’t a lot we can do. Other than immobilize the wing so the bone can heal back together.”

That got his attention.

“Immobilize? You mean I can’t-“

“Fly. Yeah. Not forever, but for a while. You’d have to come back every now and then for xrays so I can see how the healing is progressing. Given the size, I’d imagine...6 weeks?”

6 weeks? Of no flying? Hawks hadn’t spent that long out of the sky in so long that he wasn’t sure he remembered what it felt like to walk anywhere. You could see the panic in his eyes, beads of sweat formed on his neck and forehead. So you reached out and placed your hand on his shoulder to try and comfort him. He froze, not sure of what to do.

“Sorry! Sorry.” You quickly withdrew your hand. “That’s a habit. I always try to comfort the parents of my patients when they get difficult news.”

“No no, it’s-...you just surprised me.” He reached for your hand and returned it to his shoulder which was still bare. You hadn’t even realized he hadn’t redressed after finishing the radiographs. Your palm rested on his shoulder, his skin was warm to the touch. Your thumb gently stroked the end of his collarbone as you often did to support your clients. Beneath your fingers you felt the impressive muscle he had, in spite of appearing relatively lean, the muscle tone of his torso was quite defined. You imagined it had to be in order for him to fight villains and hold himself aloft while flying.

“I know it’s a difficult thing to hear. Your wings take you everywhere, I’m sure. But this won’t last forever, okay?” Something about your voice was so soothing to his fried nerves. But you’d never know because of how cool and composed he made himself appear.

“You don’t mind?” Hawks felt his anxiety dissolve when he thought about getting to see you next. It was a strange feeling, but he knew he could trust you. Those pretty eyes of yours really spoke volumes.

“Of course not. Now let’s get you taped up and on your way. I’m sure you’re exhausted, no doubt whatever broke your wing has you worn out.”

“Heh you can say that again.” There it was, his suave and too-cool demeanor. But you didn’t mind it. You were sure it was just a front he was used to keeping up. After all, you were just a civilian and he couldn’t afford to let anyone know just how weak he was.

You managed to tape and place Hawks’ wing in a makeshift splint. He refused any medication but you could tell by the way he white knuckled the table that he was in pain. A majority of the time, your patients were under anesthesia when setting broken bones. So you had to be careful this time about how heavy handed you were. By the time you were finished, you had less than 10 minutes to get him out the door before your techs and kennel attendants showed up for work.

“Come see me in a week. We’ll take more xrays and make any adjustments if you need them. Try to keep the splint dry, and rest. I mean it, Hawks.”

“Alright, Doc. I’ll be a good little bird just for you.” The winged hero winked at you as he slipped out the back door. You felt your heart leap into your throat and cheeks burn up as a result. Just as he disappeared, you heard the sounds of your employees coming in and quickly closed the door and composed yourself.

“Morning, Doc!” One of them said as you appeared in the exam area. You smiled and waved, reaching into the pocket of your white coat with your other hand. Something was in there. You looked inside and saw red. A feather. Unbeknownst to you, Hawks had slipped one of his feathers into your pocket. You couldn’t fathom why, but you felt a strange sense of comfort when you ran the tip of your finger along the center spine. It quivered when you did so.

“Ungh...” In an alley a block away, Hawks had to brace a brick wall with one hand. His insides trembled as he sensed you touching his feather. Even he didn’t know why he left one with you. But the thought of parting made him remarkably...sad?

“Get it together, Keigo...” He muttered to himself, shaking his head and continuing back home. It would be a long 6 weeks out of the sky, but at least he’d be able to see you.

A/N: This was longer than I anticipated omg. Does anyone think I should continue?

[fridayfirefly]

Virtual Sleepover

Read Virtual Sleepover on AO3

Masterlist

Written for Maribat March Day 4 - Internet Friends

Quarantine had been rough at Wayne Manor, but for Tim Drake, Marinette Dupain-Cheng was a bright light through it all. Tim was getting ahead of himself, though. The story of Marinette Dupain-Cheng started on March 20th, 2020. Panic over coronavirus was sweeping the nation. Bruce had gathered all of the members of the Wayne family into the dining room to explain the new rules of the house. No one was to go in or out. Groceries would be delivered to the house. There would be no superhero outings for at least two weeks. Tim didn't think his family would be able to survive, trapped in a house together.

So to preserve his sanity, Tim turned to the internet. There were hundreds of cold cases that he had put on the backburner and hundreds of forums and websites dedicated to solving cold cases. Tim turned to the most popular website and started dumping information, hoping for someone to show up and work through it with him. That's how Tim met Marinette. @MarinetteDC showed up on his page with a friend request, a wide range of technical knowledge about textiles and designs, and about seven different theories on a murder case Tim considered all but unsolvable. Her sleep schedule was just as chaotic as Tim's and she also drank a near-inhuman amount of coffee. Marinette Dupain-Cheng enthralled Tim. And when the chaos of his house threatened to make Tim lose his mind, Marinette became his lifeline.

"Can you hear me?"

Tim nodded. "Yep!"

"Nice!" cheered Marinette. Tim relished the opportunity to see her face, even if it was through a zoom call. "So what do we want to do first? I don't have class until Monday, so we have the whole weekend ahead of us."

"I think we should start with the iconic sleepover classic: truth or dare," suggested Tim.

"Alright. Truth or dare, Tim?"

"Dare." Tim was confident in his abilities to pull off any stunt she might come up with. However, his confidence started to fade as he watched a devious look grow on her face.

"I dare you to bake a batch of cookies - any kind of cookies you want - without using a recipe."

Tim blinked, trying to recall the last time he had baked. Besides a few times helping Alfred out in the kitchen, Tim wasn't certain that he had ever used the Wayne Manor kitchen for anything other than brewing coffee and heating frozen pizzas. "Could I have a new dare?"

Marinette shook her head, the grin on her face demonstrating exactly how much fun she was having, watching the panic in Tim's eyes. "I'll give you one hint on how to make them, but only one, so use it wisely."

Tim groaned, unplugging his laptop from its charger so he could move it to the kitchen. "I'm not actually certain I know all of the ingredients in cookies. Or how long you bake them for. I feel like an hour is probably too long, but I feel like half an hour might not be enough time."

On the other side of the screen, Marinette tried to stifle her giggles but was unable to keep them all in. "No offense Tim, but this is going to be a disaster. I can't wait."

Tim let out another groan. "Must you torture me?"

"How about you keep the laptop camera pointed towards the oven, that way I can tell you once something starts to burn?" Marinette joked.

Tim knew that she was teasing, but honestly, he knew he could use all the help he could get. Still, he wanted to preserve at least a little of his dignity. "Very funny," Tim said sarcastically, setting the laptop down on the kitchen counter.

"Start with ingredients," Marinette advised.

"What all goes into a chocolate chip cookie..?" mused Tim. He got out the flour, white and brown sugar, eggs, butter, vanilla extract, and three different types of chocolate chips that Alfred kept stocked.

Marinette raised an eyebrow. "Is that all?"

Tim cast a wary gaze upon his ingredients. It didn't seem like enough, but at the same time he couldn't figure out what he was missing. Tim sighed. "I'm ready to use my hint. Tell me what I forgot."

"You forgot to get out the salt, and more importantly, the baking soda," advised Marinette.

"Can I have a second hint?" asked Tim as he gathered his two missing ingredients.

"That depends on what you're asking," teased Marinette.

"I'm going to start listing measurements, and you tell me if it's too much or not enough."

Marinette pretended to think it over before replying, "I'll do it, but only because I want the cookies to come out edible, not because we're friends or anything like that. There are no friends in the Dupain-Cheng kitchen," said Marinette, her voice filled with faux seriousness.

"Lucky for me, these cookies are being made in the Wayne kitchen, and we're all very nice here, and we don't let Tim burn his cookies."

Marinette giggled. "You have a point there," she acquiesced. "Start listing your measurements."

Tim grabbed the measuring cup and starting approximating. "Two cups flour?"

"That will make about five dozen cookies."

"One cup of each type of sugar?"

Marinette shook her head. "You'll want a 3/4 cup of each."

The rest of the measuring process proceeded smoothly, with Tim guessing measurements of fluctuating accuracy (he correctly guessed that he would need two eggs, but his guess of a half-cup of baking soda led to Marinette questioning whether he had ever been in a kitchen before).  Once Tim got the cookie dough mixed, spooned out onto a tray, and put in the oven, they resumed their game of truth-or-dare.

"Your turn, Marinette. Truth or dare?"

"Truth."

Tim tried to think of a good question to ask. "Since you've now seen how abysmal I am in the kitchen, I want to know one thing that you're terrible at."

Marinette scrunched up her brow. "It's nowhere near as bad as you're inability to crack an egg-"

Tim winced a little, remembering the painstaking process of digging out fragments of eggshell after he completely shattered it in his attempts to crack it.

"-But I have really bad depth perception. I trip over every little crack in the sidewalk. I'm probably the clumsiest person you'll ever meet."

Tim chuckled. "And here I thought you were perfect."

Marinette grinned. "Almost perfect. Truth or dare?"

"I'll pick truth this time, and hopefully avoid being humiliated again."

"I'll go easy on you this round. When was the last time you lied, and what was it about?"

Tim combed back through his memory of the past week, trying to pick out the last time he lied. "I think it was yesterday morning. Dick asked me if the coffee I was drinking was my first coffee of the day. I said yes, but really I hadn't slept that night so I just decided to arbitrarily count my start of the day at the time I would have woken up had I actually gone to sleep."

"So how many coffee's had you had yesterday?"

Tim shrugged. "Since midnight? Probably three or four. I've gotten away with a lot more coffee since I modified the Keurig in my room to stop making so much noise."

"I'm lucky," said Marinette. "My parents sleep so far away from me that they can't hear my Keurig."

"Truth or dare?" asked Tim, continuing the game.

"Truth."

"What's the most embarrassing thing you've ever done because you had a crush on someone?"

Marinette flushed red, and Tim immediately knew that this was going to be a good story. "Once I accidentally sent a text to my crush so I stolehisphoneanddeletedthetext." Marinette rushed the last few words, so fast that Tim couldn't quite make them out.

"What was that?"

"I stole his phone and deleted the text before he could read it. In my defense, I made a lot of questionable decisions at that age."

Tim burst out laughing. "How old were you?"

"I was thirteen," admitted Marinette.

Tim couldn't stop laughing at the absurdity of her claims. "You couldn't have asked him to borrow his phone and deleted it then?"

"I was in panic mode. It was between steal his phone or destroy his phone."

"Those were your two options?!" exclaimed Tim.

Marinette blushed even more furiously. "It's your turn. Don't expect me to go easy on you this round. Truth or dare?"

Tim kept up the trend. "Truth."

"What was the worst thing you did at thirteen?"

Tim thought back to his days as Robin, and the many, many stories he could tell. In the end, he settled on one that Jason still brought up when he needed leverage over Tim. "It's not as bad as phone thievery, but it's still a pretty funny story, looking back on it. You know how I have two older brothers, right?"

"Dick and Jason," Marinette confirmed.

"Well, one night I managed to convince Dick to let me drive Bruce's favorite car. Now, keep in mind, I had never actually driven a car before. Surprisingly, I wasn't that bad at driving. I made it home without incident - that is, until I tried to park the car back in the garage and accidentally crashed into Jason's motorcycle. For years after that, Jason used the threat of telling Bruce about my little car crash to keep me in line."

Marinette snorted. "You think that borrowing a phone to delete a text message is worse than borrowing and crashing a car?"

Tim shrugged. "It's a matter of opinion. Truth or dare?"

With a roll of her eyes, Marinette said, "Truth."

"What's one thing you would never tell me?" It was the sort of question that could only be asked during a game of truth or dare. In Tim's opinion, it was this sort of question that made the game worth playing.

Marinette pouted. "I don't like that question."

"Too bad. The rules of truth or dare state that you have to answer it."

"Fine." Marinette looked up at the ceiling, deep in thought. Just as she turned back to face her laptop, her face lit up. It was evident that she had an answer. "Usually I let people learn from their mistakes in the kitchen. However, I will now tell you - because I have to - that your cookies have been in the oven for too long. They're going to start burning if you don't take them out soon."

Tim jumped up to get his cookies out of the oven. They looked a little burnt, brown rather than the golden-brown that Alfred would make, but they still looked edible. "I'll accept your answer, but only because you saved my cookies."

"Now that your cookies are done, do you want to finish up our game of truth or dare?"

"One last question," decided Tim. "And I'll pick truth, to make it easy for you."

"What's the biggest secret that you've currently keeping from your family?"

After Tim's last question, he had expected Marinette to follow it up with an invasive question. Luckily, her question had a very simple answer.

"Easy question - my friendship with you."

Marinette looked confused. "What do you mean?"

"Most of my friendships begin through the connections they have to my family. Because of that, I've never really had serious friendships that my family wasn't actively involved in."

"It's not because you're ashamed of me, right?" Marinette sounded unsure of herself. Insecurity was a side of her that Tim had never seen before.

"Of course not," Tim assured her. "You're the best friend I could have ever asked for, Marinette."

"Good, because you're not getting rid of me that easy. I still have a lot to teach you about baking. I think we might try cupcakes at our next sleepover."

Tim laughed. "We'll see about that." He had no doubts that there would be sleepovers to come, and shenanigans involving baked goods to go along with them.

@maribatmarch-2k21

[juleswolverton-hyde]

Not by the Moon | 07

Genre: Smut, Romance, Strangers to Lovers, Drama, Tragedy, Werewolf AU, Supernatural AU, Bookshop AU

Pairing: Bookshop keeper!/Werewolf!JB x Reader

Warnings: A philosophical slant, (heavy) angst, Werewolf!Jaebeom being absolute hubby material, Werewolf!Jaebeom being awkward and (a bit of a) pervert, domestic fluff, talk of medication, apparently werewolves don’t like to wear clothes (what is my canon...), talk of life and death, mention of blood, mild swearing

Summary: Every story has a purpose or goal it is dedicated to, their authors at times going to great lengths to see the project they once started to completion. Nevertheless, the things the writers swore on to see their latest art piece to completion are static.

Unchanging.

None of them swore by the Moon nor Love because they can solely genuinely swear on all that changes like themselves.

And yet, a wolf in love foolishly swore by the moon.

That is when Time truly started ticking.

Author’s Note: This chapter is from Jaebeom’s POV.

Well, here it is, earlier and much longer than originally planned. It’s also a lot more tragic and philosophical than I intended it to be, but then again, what else can you expect from a tragedian fascinated by the human condition even as it is translated into the realm of the magical?

I think I just thought of the modern literary movement I might belong to: magic realism.

It’s a crying shame the Decadent Movement isn’t active anymore, though, because that one truly feels like a good fit for me both as an author and an individual. Ah well, c’est la vie.

Previous Chapter / Next chapter

Masterlist

There is nothing better for a wolf than being with its mate. 

Well, there is one thing.

Having them completely at your mercy as you’re inside them.

I still don’t understand what the plastic wrapping is good for, but Jinyoung was very insistent on using it while we drove to the airport. And Y/N seemed glad I had whatever it is, her scent even betraying a hint of relief. However, one day, I hope she’ll tell me not to use it.

No, that’s not right. There’s a word for the… whatever it is.

A condom.

That’s the word.

I hope she’ll tell me not to use a condom. It doesn’t matter whether I’m in season or not, although the chances she’ll pup are higher if I am. I want pups with her, a little pack of our own. I want it to be our toddler running around the park, chasing its sibling. Then again, will I remain human long enough to see them grow up?

Will I even remember their birth on the day they’re born?

Will I still be here?

Or remain without a family, a proud bloodline?

I slowly open my eyes, blinking a few times to get used to the sunlight bathing the room in a warm golden hue, swallow hard and force myself to calm down. There is no use in contemplating this now, not this early in the day nor in our time together. What counts is that I’m here now with Y/N in my arms and we’re in her apartment somewhere.

A faint whiff of brine seeps in through the air cleaner filter above the window overlooking the city. A gull flies by and lands on the roof of the building opposite ours.

Sea. Rusted metal. Right, the old harbour.

A high-pitched noise, a disquiet hum followed by a sigh, makes my ears perk up. I look down at the lady sleeping on my chest, curled up and fingers balled into small fists similar to a bunny’s paws. More importantly, however, she’s perfectly alright and was only unconsciously trying to get more comfortable.

A breathless chuckle rises in my throat at the display. Y/N’s adorable even when she’s fast asleep, her lips parted yet not enough to allow drooling.

I, on the other hand, am another story. I don’t do it often, but I must have been so tired last night I triggered the habit. The finger I swipe over the corners of my mouth comes away wet both times.

Oh no, I didn’t drool on her, did I? Would she mind, though, if I explained it’s a sign I’m comfortable with her?

It isn’t hard to guess the answer to the question. She would beat me over the head, likely with a shoe, and say I’m not allowed to bite her at all anymore. Not even in the future.

In a hurry to discover whether I made the fatal mistake, I check her messy hair but keeping my movements controlled to not wake her up. Fortunately, there are no locks sticking together nor a trail running down over the side of her face.

With a deep sigh, I slump further down into the bed again and kiss her crown. However, I don’t go back to sleep despite the comfort of the sheets. Instead, I lift the lady’s head and gently put her down on the pillow as I get up, carefully calculating every movement like I do when hunting to make sure she won’t wake up or notice my absence in her unconscious state.

The faint smell of burned iron comes from somewhere when I rearrange the sheets to bundle Y/N up. My mouth dries up, throat blocked by something I can’t swallow as a familiar stench disturbs the morning happiness. Former intentions abandoned, I claw through the sheets to try and discover where the rank odour comes from.

Did I hurt her? Is she bleeding? Why is she bleeding? Where is it? Where’s the blood?

As suspected, the frantic search wakes the pretty lady. Propped up on an elbow, eyes half-closed and brows furrowed, she turns to me. “Jae, what-’’ she yawns, “What’re you doing?”

Barely has she asked the question or I find what I’ve been looking for.

On her side of the bed, between her thighs, is a puddle of dried blood.

Where did it come from? Did I… Did I do this?

I grab her by the shoulders and pull her close to check her condition, turning her this way and that as each thought grows more troubled. “Are you okay?” There’s nothing to see on the bare skin of her upper body. “Are you hurt?”

Maybe the wound is somewhere lower, on her hip or leg. I didn’t bite her last night. Right? I didn’t hurt her. At least, I don’t think I did. No. Surely the wolf- I wouldn’t harm her. I had enough control to prevent that from happening. Yes, that’s the case.

But then, with a fading mind, how much can I trust myself?

“Jaebeom, I’m fine. What are you- ah.” Y/N notices the spot of dark crimson when I pull the sheets completely off the bed and toss them aside. She lets out an incomprehensibly careless chuckle, evidently oblivious to the gravity of the situation.

“What are you giggling about? Y/N, you’re bleeding!” I bark, lost.

A small paw cups my cheek, her thumb caressing the skin in an attempt to calm me down. “You took my virginity. It’s natural to bleed a little when that happens.”

“Are you still in pain?” Even though it’s natural, surely it’s not without repercussions. Otherwise, the stain wouldn’t be there.

“No, I’m not, silly. I’m okay.” She kisses the tip of my nose when I let out a whine, unhappy with the response. Withal, a curious tone in her voice overtakes my own displeasure. “Are you?”

Why do you say it like that?

She sounds weird, hinting at something I’m supposed to find as obvious as she. Yet, I have no clue about what it can be. So, I tilt my head and stare blankly at her, waiting for an explanation. “I’m fine.” 

My choice of words makes her visibly flinch despite the effort to hide it. The sleepiness which glazed her eyes evaporated, leaving them devoid of the amusement at my failure as a human. The recognizable sour note of anxiety creeps back into her scent, setting off alarm bells in my mind. “I’m alright. No pain. Happy to be here. Happy to wake up next to you.”

I rub her arms in a poor attempt to make her calm down, have her scent return to its spring-like fruitiness. She is supposed to smell like fresh fruit still hanging from the trees, yet to ripen. Not like fallen fruit beginning to decay in the summer sun.

“Okay,” is all she says in response before she pulls away, the absence of the warmth of her palm sending a cold shiver throughout my body.

The world always seems a little colder without her.

“Want breakfast?” A low grumble pierces the silence following the question, giving me enough of a response. And a reason to get my head, no, that’s not the idiom. To get my thoughts ordered. Organized. To get my thoughts in order? To think about… stuff. Last night. This. Everything. “Never mind. I’m making you breakfast. You have to eat.”

I stand up and head for the bathroom to first get rid of the weird plastic wrapping she put on me last night. Having thrown it in the bin there after a bit of an awkward struggle removing it, I move to the kitchen. Nevertheless, I don’t start preparing food right away. Instead, I pick up the grey hoodie I gave her from the bag between the sofa and chair facing the kitchen. I remember how she held it up to her nose, breathed in and basked in the scent.

My scent.

A fragment of last night’s memory.

I remember we had sex and that she told me I’m her first, but afterwards things are blurry.

Smell. I said something about how nicely she smells. Not really an original compliment since I’ve said it a lot already, but I can’t help but focus on it.

And then…

Then…

Then instinct took over because I let it, thinking I’d remain in control even though I let go a little. After all, I’ve learned enough to know how to deal with the wolf inside thanks to the rehabilitation procedure Jinyoung put me through and supervised. Since then, there’s been a healthy balance between human and beast in my mind.

Or, rather, there was one.

I think.

Another boundary to watch out for. I have to keep myself in check. No more experimenting.

Because to do so is to forget.

And I want to remember.

 I stop absent-mindedly thumbing the piece of clothing, drape it over the armrest of the sofa and head into the kitchen to make breakfast. Unfortunately, the fridge quickly brings my plan to a halt, empty except for a pack of soy milk and a tray of eggs. The groceries Jinyoung and I got were only enough for dinner last night and there are no leftovers.

To be fair, she did just come back from a trip abroad. But still, is there really nothing to work with?

I sigh in defeat and grab the plant-based milk to pour it over the apple and cinnamon granola I find in the cupboard above the sink. At least it’s food and drink in one meal.

From the drawer next to the oven, I grab two spoons which I put into the bowls, grab the hoodie from the couch and return to the bedroom.

Y/N sits with her back turned to me, but flips around a little too fast for my liking once she hears my paws approaching. “Jaebeom?”

The terrible mixture of barely suppressed horror and genuine concern in her gaze has translated into her voice, which is cold and calculating. The sour note of anxiety hasn’t faded from her scent, creating a stone to sink to the bottom of my stomach because there’s only one thing that can be a distressing factor this early in the day.

Me.

Withal, the reason why she’s scared puzzles me since I haven’t done anything out of the ordinary. I’ve simply been me since I woke up.

Human.

Although, that’s me now.

Last night, I don’t know who or what I was though it isn’t hard to guess.

The pretty lady traces the deep indentation in the headboard of the bed with her fingers bent to resemble a claw. “Did you do this?”

Did- Did I? No. I- I don’t know. I was less strict with myself last night and don’t remember much, but surely I wasn’t gone enough to do this.

I hope.

I think.

I’m not sure.

But the reality provides the necessary evidence to repute any kind of denial I can offer.

I set the bowls down on the nightstand and crawl back on the bed to sit next to her. Gently, I nudge her hand aside to mimic her action, my own fingers perfectly fitting into the large gash. “I don’t know.”

A surge of violence shoots throughout my body, triggering the nagging feeling of a forgotten memory strong enough to knock the air out the lungs and split my skull with flashes of a memory. Nevertheless, the fragments pass by too fast to make sense of them and the mere attempt to do so worsens the headache. I flinch and scramble backwards with a paw- a hand pressed to my head as if I can thus suppress the pain. Yet, I remain unable to look at anything but the damage.

“I don’t know,” I repeat, my voice hardly louder than a scared whisper.

“I felt your skin move beneath my fingers last night,” Y/N starts, catching my attention with the timid response suggestive of requiring more explanation.

Exactly what I don’t have since I can’t even explain it myself.

This shouldn’t be happening.

“I think I did, at least,” she adds doubtfully on a shivery breath. The sourness sweetens to doubt instead of anxiety. Nonetheless, it’s still worrying she’s ill… uncomfortable.

“Did I-“ I swallow hard, forcing out the words describing my worst nightmare. “Did I transform?”

“Transform?’’ She briefly turns her gaze from me to the indentation, lips parted in an attempt to articulate a thought that’s dismissed with a headshake the second thereafter. Her attention returns to me, her expression slackened. ‘’What are you- What… No, you didn’t, but you looked far away. Retreated further into your own world, more so than you normally are.”

“That’s good,” I mumble, nodding as I, too, briefly return my attention to the claw mark. “Was human. Good.”

Still, need to talk to the weird-smelling intruder. Doctor. Friend. Name, his name. Jinyoung. Jesus, man, get yourself together. Your name is Im Jaebeom. You’re a twenty-eight old werewolf that- no, who runs a bookshop called Paper Souls. Jinyoung is your friend, doctor and supervisor appointed to you by... by... some organization.

“Jaebeom,” the pretty lady puts her hand on my shoulder, features softened instead of frozen and marred by fear, “have you taken your medication yet?”

The natural fruity undertone seems forced to be stronger.

You should be scared. I might have- I made that claw mark. Why treat me like a human? I’m a wolf.

“Me- Med-“ The strange word barely registers until a spark of humanity recalls its definition. “Medication. Pills. No, I- I haven’t.”

“Let me grab a glass of water and get them.”

She ruffles my hair, jumps off the bed and rushes out of the room. I listen to her bare feet lightly treading the floor as she moves on the other side of the wall, hurried steps going from the hallway, where she rummages in my coat for the rattling bottle of pills, to the kitchen. There, she opens a cupboard to grab a glass. The loud clinking of glass alongside the sour undertone in her scent indicates she almost accidentally caused several to fall out and break on the tiles. Fortunately, judging by the deep sigh of relief, Y/N could prevent it from happening.

She turns on the tab, fills the glass with water, turns the tab off and walks back into the room.

“There you go,” she says, handing me the small brown bottle and water. 

The mattress dips a bit when she sits down next to me with one of the bowls filled with cereal in her hands. After stirring the spoon around like she is trying to evade something, Y/N finally takes a first careful bite. Nevertheless, she starts eating properly after I kiss her temple, which is an apparently effective form of encouragement. I have to remember that. 

Quietly seated in the golden sunlight, we have our first breakfast together. I don’t mind her watching me as I’m taking my medication, measuring out the amount Jinyoung told me to take. Or, rather, as much as the label notes I should. Immediately my gag reflex is triggered when I put them in my mouth, the taste of bitter metal extremer than before so it’s like licking one of the rusted over buoys drifting in the harbour.

He’s increased the nightshade and silver. Damn, I think even the worst coffee tastes better than this.

“That bad?”

“Yep.” I open and close my mouth, nauseous due to the sickening taste lingering on my tongue. To prevent the bile rising in my throat from escaping, I gulp down the water. Unfortunately, it only washes down part of the bitterness.

She holds up a spoon with milk-soaked granola to feed to me, but I turn it down and shake my head. I might actually throw up if I eat anything right now. 

Disappointment flashes across her face, though it’s gone in an instant as she puts her bowl down and stands up. “Hold on, I’ll be right back.”

“But... food,” I meekly offer and point at the half-empty bowl on the nightstand. She should put herself before me. 

Because I’ll be fine.

“We’re missing something important. Coffee,” the bunny-like lady playfully responds before she bounces off again to the kitchen.

The pleasant and slightly sweet scent of instant cappuccino warms the apartment, replacing the sharp scent of frozen water alluding to hail later on in the day. It’s a little early in the year, but soon the first snows will fall.

Hopefully, she’ll move before then so we can spend Christmas in her cottage. Although, it doesn’t even have to be the holidays. I’d light a fire, drape a blanket over our shoulders and keep Y/N close to warm her with mine as we read and look at the snowfall.

Like a snowflake falling faintly through the universe and faintly falling before our eyes, so we pass through life. At this rate, I think the next snowfall might be the last I’ll see.

Consciously.

Meaningfully.

Like a human.

The snowflake will faintly fall on the man I am, descend on the husk I’m becoming, while she will continue living.

Without me.

The living and the dead.

I smile wistfully until the same shot of pain treks through me as when I tried to fill in the gaps of the fragmented memory. Folded in on myself, cold sweat on my skin and short of breath, I press my palms against my snout to push the agony away.

The pained groaning must have alarmed the pretty lady because she rushes to my side and pushes one of the mugs in her little paws… hands in mine. “Here, take a sip. The caffeine will help.”

As told, I nip at the hot beverage. Indeed, the cappuccino lessens the headache and cold shivers that ran down my spine and threatened to spread. Though I dislike instant coffee, it actually tastes good when she prepares it. I sigh in relief, blow on the coffee to cool it down, and slowly drink it while Y/N caresses my jaw and ear just the way I like it. At the same time, she comforts me with her soothing voice, murmuring words of solace and assurance as she sits down next to me again. 

I could listen to you all day. Maybe I should ask you to read to me sometime. Although, not maybe. I’ll ask it later. Note to self, write a note on your phone to ask her to read to you. Also, make note of kissing her temple.

My reverie is broken up by a comment which rubs me the wrong way. “I have to go to the office later today-’’

“Already? You just got home.”

“They’re counting on me, Jae. Besides, I’m not that jet-lagged.”

“It’s not healthy. You should stay home. Rest,” I bark. Her eyes widen, taken aback by my bluntness.

She opens and closes her mouth, planning to say something yet deciding against it. Instead, she tugs my ear. “I’ll be fine. And you have your shop to look after, so let’s both work hard today.”

“Still,” I take another sip, “I don’t think you should go.”

“As long as I have caffeine, I should be able to manage. How about this? I’ll come to your shop as soon as I’m done with work and cook for us. We’ll have a cosy night in like we had last night.”

“Last night was ‘cosy’ indeed,” I murmur, hoping she catches on to what I’m alluding to.

“It was. I really liked it.” Her lashes flutter with the memories of last night, cheeks tinged pink. Unfortunately, the heartstopping girlish giggle is short-lived and becomes serious too soon. “But while I did, I think we shouldn’t do it again so soon.”

“Agreed,” I respond, mind occupied by the ripples of transformation and the splashes of pain wanting to remember something significant only communicated in incomprehensible flashes.

Distorted.

Like the memories of the forest.

I need to call Jinyoung. He needs to know.

 “What shall we eat tonight?”

The change in subject is welcome, but also a confusing bridge to cross. How can humans go from severe to casual without a care? The aspect of communication has me furrow my brows as I try to work out the mech… work… nuts and bolts behind it. Nevertheless, I answer the question. “I thought you had a plan already.”

The corners of her mouth curl up into a cat-like grin. “I have no idea, so that’s why I’m asking you. You’re a better chef than I am.”

“I’m not that good,” I murmur, my ears lowered like a shy pup. “But I’d like something we can make together.”

“Pancakes?”

“Yes!’’ I bark, leaning in and grabbing the sheets to contain the excitement at cooking together. ‘’Yes, I’d like that!”

A flicker of doubt passes over her face, hesitant in the way she tends to be when it concerns food. However, a second later, she taps me on the nose with a content hum. “Pancakes it is.”

While Y/N showers, I clean the dishes and pull the sheets off of the bed so she can bring them to the laundry. Although, maybe I could do it myself. I’d have to text Jinyoung for instructions since he always does mine, but even then it shouldn’t be too difficult. Humans do laundry all the time. It’s part of their routine and if they can do it, so can I.

I hope.

As I’m making the bed and contemplating the process to get at least the blood stain out of the fabric, my mate walks back into the room. Her wet hair is bundled up in a towel that’s smaller than the one wrapped around her body. The addition of the scents of cherry blossoms and matcha to the blend of summer fruits drives me dizzy as she moves to the wardrobe.

I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t help looking as the towel falls to the floor to reveal her naked body. An appreciative growl unconsciously rises from my throat, a surge of heat culminating between my legs.

Just one more time. I’ll keep myself in check. Behave. I’ll behave.

“Jaebeom,” cheeks flushed, Y/N glances over her shoulder, “don’t even think about it.”

“Sorry,” I mumble as I shuffle to her side to help her put on her bra by closing the clasps. When they click in place, I place a kiss between her shoulder blades, feeling her shiver against my lips. “I know what we agreed on.”

I wrap my arms around her waist and let my head rest on her shoulder. Eyes closed, I try to keep a clear mind as she scratches me behind the ear.

“It’s not necessarily... that.” Her voice is light, wanting to move past the concerns of last night with humour. “It’s rather the thought I wouldn’t get to leave for the office at all if we go back to bed.”

“You’re right.” I decide to play along, if only to give us both some peace of mind. So, I bury my nose in the side of her neck, nuzzling her and earning myself a bird-like giggle that spreads a nice fuzzy feeling inside. “I wouldn’t let you go. We’d read the day away with coffee.”

“Tea, in your case. Doctor’s orders. I don’t want you bouncing around the place. You’re my calm, well, sort of calm bookish wolf. Not a supercharged husky.”

It’s a lame joke, but nevertheless makes me laugh.

“What will you wear today?” I ask, glancing at the clothes on the hangers.

Here and there, there’s a colourful item in the collection. Withal, the majority of the items are mono… one-toned... black and white items to be switched up with a dark-shaded checkered blouse.

My attention drifts to the long white dress with lemons. The fabric is on the thin side, which makes it suitable for summer or a warm spring.

I’d love to see you in that dress, if only just once.

She pouts her lips. “I was thinking about grey high-waisted jeans with a black button-up shirt and ankle boots.”

“Wear my hoodie,” I whine, upset my… my girlfriend. That sounds nice. My girlfriend. It makes me upset that my girlfriend doesn’t plan on wearing one of the things I gave her. “You like the grey one, right?”

“I do, but-’’

“Then wear it.”

She sighs, shakes her head and turns around to look up at me. “There’s something like a dress code at the office.”

“Don’t care.” I nudge her nose with mine, bark lowered to a woof to persuade her to go with my choice. “You’ll look better. More pretty.”

“If you put a pair of boxers on, I’ll wear the hoodie. Deal?”

“But they’re uncomfortable. I only wore them because Jinyoung told me to.”

“Then I won’t wear the hoodie.” Little devilish will-o’-the-wisps light up her eyes as the corners of her mouth curl up into a taunting grin. “Shame. Now my colleagues won’t get to see I have a boyfriend.”

The tables have flipped since I’m apparently not the only one who’s good at using their charms.

Nevertheless, reluctant to start a fight over this, I let out a compromising chuff. “Okay, fine.”

Humans and their clothes. I like yours, but you’d look even better in mine. Still, I’m only doing this because I want every male at your office and in the city to know you’re mine.

No matter what size they are, clothing is a thing I absolutely haven’t missed. Notwithstanding, to please my mate, I wriggle myself back into the tight short trousers and the loose pants to wear over them. Y/N gives me a warning look when she sees me fumbling with my shirt, hopefully missing out on the obvious clue I secretly hope she’ll let me off easy.

Of course she doesn’t.

“Yes, Jae, also the shirt,” she chastises me like a mother disciplines a rebellious pup. “And the shoes. You don’t want other people to call the cops after seeing a naked man in the streets.” Unaware of the fact I can hear her perfectly even as she mutters under her breath, she adds. ‘’Or me to pick you up at the police station because of it.’’ 

Amused by the funny image the fantastical scenario creates in my mind, I relent. “Yes, ma’am.”

Once we’re both dressed, Y/N makes way for the bathroom to do her makeup. Ignoring my protests it’s unnecessary since there’s nothing to hide or improve to make me love her more, she closes the door behind her and locks it.

There goes the plan of dragging her out of there by the collar to have her scratch my jaw and ear again instead. A much better way to pass the time, if you ask me.

In the meanwhile, I return to the bedroom to take a picture of the damage with my phone and send it to Jinyoung.

Jaebeom: We need to talk.

Immediately, I get a response.

Jinyoung: Yes, we absolutely do. Everything OK?

Jaebeom: Yes, Y/N is fine. Alive. A little shaken, but so am I. Well, we’re more than a little shaken. Fuck, Jinyoung, I don’t know what happened.

Jinyoung: I’ll drop by later today. I have to give a lecture in a bit and have to see a new patient afterwards. He’s going through the reintegration program right now and needs a little extra help.

Jaebeom: Help with what? What is he?

Jinyoung: A wolf. Not a standard case.

Jaebeom: Anything I can help with?

Jinyoung: I think you need to focus on yourself right now. I’ll be at the shop around two.

Footsteps disturb the silence, going from the bathroom to the hallway.

That was quick. Are females always this fast with applying their face?

It’s a funny phrase, ‘applying my face’. Also, it’s the argument the pretty lady used as the final word on the matter. But she already has a face so there’s no need to apply a second like some Greek god.

“Hey, where do you think you’re going?” Ears perked, I glance around the corner into the living room and in Y/N’s direction.

“Work?” she answers sheepishly, looking back at me with her head slightly tilted to the side. In her hands is the black trench coat she was about to put on.

Fortunately, she’s kept her makeup natural with a golden brown eyeshadow, a bit of a black line to accentuate her eyes and something to enhance her lashes. It’s a natural look which some of the female customers could learn from with their fake lips or chest that makes them reek of silicone and plastic. Their makeup, often overemphasizing their fake features, doesn’t add to their supposed charm. In fact, it makes me turn my snout away even faster if their attitude already hasn’t.

I’d never offer them coffee or want them around more than once.

But not her.

Not Y/N.

I can’t remember if she wore the same makeup when we met, but I vaguely recall a sense of calm and need for protection alongside a strange recognition. A connection that would make all the puzzle pieces of my life fit together.

The missing last piece.

“Not so fast.” I swiftly move to her side to kiss her forehead. No way I’m letting her go without giving her at least one more.

“There,” I pet her head, griggling and sweeping my tail triumphantly, “now you’re free to go.”

“I wouldn’t have gone without telling you, you know?” She stands on the tip of her toes to peck me on the lips, slightly swaying side to side to keep her balance.

So I lean forward to make it easier for her and chuckle against her lips. “Have a good day at work, Y/N.”

“You too, Jae.”

And with that, she puts on her coat, grabs her bag and opens the front door. She lingers in the doorway, waving half-heartedly as a final word of goodbye.

I wave back, faking a smile to see her off without worry.

Being human again isn’t so bad.

However, the deadline is another story.

The shop is as tranquil as it is on any other day. The quietness of unread words hangs between the shelves, the only noise to disrupt the silence being the rustle of a page being turned. Seated by the window as per usual, listening to the hail in the dim light, I read the time away, but whereas it’s normally a form of amusement and pleasure, it now functions in part to forget this morning’s discovery.

I didn’t mean to pry, but I inspected Y/N’s bookshelves before I left her apartment. There was the usual assortment of classics, but also a lot of Asian fiction, a genre I haven’t delved into too much yet. So, of course with the intention of returning it, I took Colorless Tsukuru Tazaki and His Years of Pilgrimage by Haruki Murakami with me.

She must have read it recently because her fruity scent still lingers on the paper. The summer blend distracts me to the point that the movement of the hands of the clock pass unnoticed in the background.

Regardless of the appointed time, it’s half past two instead of two o’clock that Jinyoung comes in. In his one hand he holds a carrier with two paper cups, the sleeves on them decorated with the silhouette of a black wolf and the name of the café printed in vintage letters beneath the design, the letters spelling out Wolf’s. Judging by the scent, it’s tea the doctor has brought with him. Apple cinnamon for me, since that’s the only one I like, and rooibos for himself.

In his other hand, he holds his bag. One of the claps has either not been fastened before he left or came undone along the way. Whatever the reason, it’s clear he came here in a hurry.

“Sorry I’m late. Christian and I had a lot more to discuss than we thought.” Jinyoung stumbles inside, puts the tea and his bag on the counter, and turns around to lock the door and flip the sign so we can talk in private.

A hint of leather mixed with coffee and wood is mixed in with his own.

Male.

Threat.

Teeth gritted and jaw clenched, I make a mental note to myself to keep this scent away from Y/N. To keep this Christian away from her.

“Jaebeom,” the other male sighs. His tone holds a silent warning of being close to breaking some kind of boundary.

“What?” The answer rolls off the tongue as a growl rather than an actual question. Not that it matters since he must have had a lot worse to endure from me. Besides, it’s not him I’m pissed at so he’s safe.

Although, the wild undertone in his already peculiar personal blend alludes to the opposite.

Has he always smelled like this or is this new? He is human, but then why does my instinct tell me to watch out for him, that there’s more than to him? Strange. 

“He’s no competition. I think he might have imprinted with my colleague, although neither he nor she might be aware of it.” He rolls his eyes. “The gods know whether Gráinne will do anything with it. I wonder if... no, I don’t think either of them told her anything.”

A grim wistfulness stains his voice, which ignites a curiosity about his colleague’s circumstances. Notwithstanding, that story will have to wait until another day and his willingness to tell me.

Still, I quickly fish my phone out of my pocket, open the notes app, and jot down a short reminder to ask about it at a later date.

“Anyway,” Jinyoung steps away from the door, hands me the cup with apple cinnamon tea, and gestures at the worn couch by the window overlooking the west side of the neighbourhood, “we’re here to talk about you. About the picture you sent.”

We move away from the counter to the sofa. A burst of hail spatters against the glass as we sit down.

I’m glad to have something to hold to conceal the shivers running through my body at the image of the claw mark mixed with the memory of what Y/N told me she felt. Or, rather, thought she felt although I’m certain she actually did feel the first ripples of transformation.

For a moment, we sit in silence as I mentally prepare myself for the conversation. Nipping on the tea with my shoulders curled over my chest, I try to reconstruct last night as best I can.

As much as my memory lets me.

To break the... something. There’s an idiom, no, a phrase? A saying.

I don’t know.

Not anymore.

To make it easier, likely noticing the struggle to say anything, Jinyoung speaks up. “There’s more than the photo. You’re leaving things out, things I need to know to help. What aren’t you telling me, Jaebeom?”

“Y/N-” I begin, my breath unsteady as I restart the sentence, “Y/N said she felt my skin move and if I try to remember last night, I can only recall fragments that give me a headache when I try to string them together. Which I can’t.”

He pales, frozen in place as the weird briny scent sours. “That shouldn’t-’’

“Shouldn’t happen,” I finish the remark. 

A horrifying idea arises that sets the hairs on the back of my neck on end and has me nervously tapping my thumbs together as I try not to squeeze the cup in my paws. Nonetheless, voice a low woof bordering on a melancholic whine, I tell the doctor what’s on my mind. “I think the pills stopped working. Completely. I- I don’t think-’’

The world stops, shrinks, and strings my chest as tight as a string as I shrink within myself. Each thought evaporates as fast as the flashes in the wolf’s memory, incoherent if meant to be sensible at all.

The snow hasn’t even come.

I can’t leave her alone.

I don’t want to leave this life.

I don’t want to go just when being human again starts to get good.

I don’t want to be the old me again.

  “I think so too,” Jinyoung agrees grimly. “If I increase the silver and nightshade or the doses it will kill you.”

He tilts his head to the side, eyes sharp with focus as he poses the question I’ve been wondering about myself. “Does she know what you are?”

I shake my head. I might be her weirdo wolf guy, but she’d never believe me if I told her what I really am. Besides, werewolves are the stuff of fiction these days.

We’re no longer seen as a real threat nor have the power and status we used to have in the days of yore. We are devoid of an identity acknowledged by humans.

But, if I don’t possess an identity, am I really here?

Alive?

Or dead like the wolf inside?

Paradise is calling, the song of the forest playing like a red thread through my broken memory.

Beckoning me home.

The woods are calling.

And I must not go.

Jinyoung’s new question pulls me out of my reverie, just in time before the train of thought would crash and burn. “Are you going to tell her?”

“No.” I take a sip of the sweet tea, to have a second of bliss and enjoy a new human pleasure.

Another happiness I discovered a little too late.

“Will you at least tell her about your meds?” Even though she’s seen me take them, Y/N doesn’t know what they’re for. But, then again, did she look at the label?

Regardless of whether she did or not, she’s perhaps not truly ignorant to the reason I have to take them. After all, she thinks they combat my amnesia, which is partially true. It’s a half-truth.

But the real reason is a secret I intend to keep.

“No,” I repeat, determined in my answer regardless of the world spinning out of control. “I won’t tell her.”

“She deserves that much, doesn’t she? She’s your girlfriend, Jay.’’ Although his features have softened, the doctor’s voice rises to a fierce bark as he reinforces his point. ‘’Your mate.”

“I can’t tell her,’’ I retort, my bark closer to a growl than a civilized answer. Tears brim on the edge of my lashes, obscuring my vision in spite of my attempts to blink them away. The vision of Y/N by herself in the snow, on her knees in the middle of the orchard, blocks my throat and makes breathing harder than it already was. 

The vision changes to the image of a spring day close to summer, warm enough for her to wear the dress with the lemons. She’s seated in the same position between the trees which are now white and pink with blossom. However, whereas her belly was flat before, it’s now swollen, pregnant with pups.

My pups?

No, I have to stay here.

I have to survive the winter.

I have to be here if I ever change my mind and want to start a pack with her.

I must be here.

But the question is whether I actually can.

At this rate, I’m not sure.

I don’t know.

But I know enough to explain why I’m reluctant to tell my pretty lady anything. ‘’I can’t tell her, because the news will hurt her and I don’t want that. I don’t want to hurt her.”

Plus, what am I supposed to say? I’m a wolf that turned into a man and is slowly dying, going back to his old form in which it... he. Am human. In which he’ll be stuck until it- He! Am human! Until he dies?

“Y/N has to know about this, Jaebeom.’’ A hand on my shoulder makes me look up from the floor to the man next to me. ‘’How about I talk to her, tell her what you told me and discuss what our options are as well as a plan for the future?”

“You’re right.” I let out a mirthless griggle. “Fuck, I hate it when you are. But… But how will you… explain, uhm, explain… this- me! How will you explain me? What I am? For all she cares, werewolves are my- myth- fic-’’ I throw my head back, frustrated I can’t find the right word or properly speak.

Jinyoung gives me an encouraging squeeze, kindheartedly chuckling at my failure. “I know what you mean. Nobody comes into our world willingly or at least without a good reason. I think your... situation is enough of the latter for her to get involved too. She doesn’t have to join the branch, I’ll leave that up to her. But, if Y/N decides to believe me, or us for that matter, she’ll at least have a community to rely on when you, you know, you’re...”

“When I’m gone.’’ The hesitance to state the facts makes me grimace and my tone sharper than intended. ‘’We both know where this is heading so just say it.”

“Fine,’’ the doctor puts his hands up as if he’s at the risk of being shot ‘’when you’re gone.”

“What’ll happen to the shop?” I gesture around the paper paradise, changing the topic slightly. Books have been another treasure of humanity I will forever be grateful for, especially since I hopefully have created a legacy with them that’s worth keeping.

The doctor glances around, a somber expression on his face. “Either the university will keep it and maintain it as a potential workplace in the reintegration program or sell it off. I don’t know, real estate doesn’t fall within my jurisdiction.”

“Ah, I see.” I lower my head, gaze averted to the half-empty cup in my paws.

Funny how I once thought of making this a family business or to have at least my pup’s name on the spine of one of these books. If I ever had them, would they like to be a writer? Would Y/N tell them their absent father, I... I love... loved to read?

I force myself to forget the thought, swallow despite having a dry mouth, and shake my head. “Thank you. For wanting to tell her. She’ll come over tonight, so-’’

He holds up his hand to stop me. “I’ll text her so we can meet at a later date. She just returned from a business trip and had quite the evening with you. You two deserve a bit of rest.”

“But what if...”

It’s unlikely, but what if it happens again? What if I spin out of control tonight?

“Keep your temper in check and try to suppress your instinct,” Jinyoung answers matter-of-factly.

So, no sex.

Although the unspoken implication doesn’t come as a surprise, I can’t help but feel disappointed even though Y/N and I agreed on not doing it again so soon. Notwithstanding, it would be a lie to say I didn’t want to do it again this morning. But then there was the pool of blood and the amnesia that ruined our morning bliss.

All the same, flashes of what I do remember from last night replay in my mind.

They say once you’ve had a wolf, you never go back. Maybe because I won’t let you.

She looked beautiful, tears glistening in her eyes, equally as beautiful as her meek whimpers. She’s so small and fragile, easy to overpower.

To conquer.

“Your mind’s…. gutter again, isn’t it?” A groan sounds from somewhere on the side, distant like a faint echo

I was inside her.

In spite of the weird plastic, she felt nice.

Warm.

Wet.

I replay the image of her whimpering on the sheets as I looked down at her over and over. My hand on her cheek and Y/N keeping it in place. I should have used that second to dive down and worship her soft breasts more.

I could have bitten her there. Just a small bite on the side.

The snapping of a pair of fingers before my eyes interrupts the pleasant reverie. A bit offended, I snap around to growl at whoever took the pleasure of a cherished memory away.

 Only to face Jinyoung, who sighs and looks down at the bulge in my pants before pursing his lips with an exasperated knowing expression as he looks up. 

Scrambling to regain my composure and hardly remembering what he said, I answer as best I can. “No!”

“Then why are you drooling?”

[nothing-but-dreamy]

AFTERLIFE ~ Part 2

Part 1

Pairing: Connor x Reader; RK900

Words: 2.998

Warning: mention of blue blood (is that even a warning..?)

Retrospectively, to get Connor out of the building wasn’t the hardest part of your plan. In fact, it was easier than you had thought. On your way, Connor had hacked the camera and scanner of the parking deck. No alarm went on as Connor passed the checkpoints. So, the two of you got into your car to drive over the long bridge to leave the island and to get back to Detroit.

But you should have known it better. It wouldn’t stay this easy. At the end of the day, Connor was CyberLife’s property and of course, even if they wanted to deactivate him, they also wanted him back. But the last thing you had expected them to do would be sending an armed unit. And of course, part of this unit was Colden, the RK900. You weren’t surprised that they would try to get Connor back. You should have known it.

Like in an action movie, the unit stormed your house from all sides. Connor was fighting them back one by one and holding the upper hand until the situation changed. From the corner of his eyes, Connor saw you stumbling through the living room with your hands raising in the air in surrender. The RK900 was walking behind you, pushing you forward while it pointed a gun to your head.

software instability^

“Give up, Connor! Or this human will die.”, the RK900 ordered. Its voice was a bit darker than Connor’s and as cold as its name.

As Connor saw you got threatened by a gun something snapped inside of him and the wall that held him back from admitting his emotions started to fall apart. The RK900 pushed the gun closer to your head which caused you to wince in fear. As Connor heard that sound, he broke the wall down and finally understood what you had tried to tell him about to feel. After all the time where he had fought against the deviants, now, he had become one on his own. Because now, there was a reason for him to turn deviant: The only thing in his mind was to protect your life. To protect you, “Let her go and maybe I will spare your life.”, Connor said, low and threatening, he adjusted his standing and was just focused on the android behind you.

“Connor…”, you whispered, concerned about the fact that the RK900 was better than Connor would be. The last thing you wanted for Connor was to get in any more danger. He already had a gun shot in his chest and blue blood was running out of it. Androids could endure more things than humans but they weren’t indestructible.

“Let her go.”, Connor demanded calmly.

The RK900 just smirked. But the smile never reached its piercing blue eyes, “Fascinating. You turned deviant, Connor? You started to feel because of this human?”

You looked surprised at Connor. Was it possible that he had finally awoken? Were you really the reason for him to change from a machine to a living being? Quickly, Connor looked at you and you saw warmth in his brown eyes… and concern. Even a soft smile appeared on his lips which should reassure you.

“Oh, bloody hell! That’s disgusting!”, the RK900 spat out and rolled with his eyes as it witnessed the small exchange between Connor and you.

“I said: Let her go! Otherwise, I see myself forced to kill you.”, Connor hissed and looked up again. You shook your head slowly to stop him from his plan but Connor ignored you. There was no room for softness even if he was starting to feel. The RK900 wouldn’t stop until it got what CyberLife wanted.

“You know what, you could come with me and I will spare her pitiful life. I’ve been ordered to get you back. My orders are a bit more… well… flexible when it comes to her. It’s your choice.”, the RK900 said calmly but with a vicious tone.

“Connor, don’t listen to it! It just wants to kill you! CyberLife doesn’t want you alive-”, you called out but the RK900 stopped you from talking as it punched into your ribs with the back of his gun. The air got knocked out of your lungs and you slumped down on your knees trying to catch your breath.

Connor stepped forward as he saw you suffering. But as the RK900 pointed its gun back at your head, he stopped.

“I can continue with hurting her all day long. If you don’t give up, I swear you will see her dying right here. You have to think about what is more important to you. Your freedom or her life. You can’t have both.”, the RK900 said with a lopsided smirk.

Connor gritted his teeth as he searched for a way out. His existence would already be over when it weren’t for you to save him. Now, Connor was faced with the worst thing he could imagine. The last thing he wanted was to lose you now, where he knew what he was feeling for you, “Alright, alright! You win. I give up.”, Connor said finally.

“No! Connor, don’t!”, you called out in fear for his life. As you looked up at Connor, tears were blurring your vision but you were sure that you had seen Connor … winking at you?

The RK900 shoved you aside so you were falling to the ground before it stepped over you to go to Connor, “Wise decision, Connor.”

You looked shocked how the RK900 pushed Connor around to shove him to the front door of your home. You crawled back on your knees as something was clanking. As you looked up, you saw the RK900 stumbling slightly as it tried to wipe glass fragments out of its face and hair.

Connor had grabbed one of your heavy vases to break it on the androids head before he attacked the RK900 immediately. It stumbled back. They fought against each other and for you, there were just arms and legs involved in a too fast way. First, you expected the RK900 to dominate the fight and for a few moments it looked like this but then, just one minute later, Connor gained the upper hand.

Connor kicked into the side of the RK900, shoved it back violently against the next wall, grabbed its head and crashed his knee into the android's face. You looked away as you heard a disgusting sound. It wasn’t exactly the sound of breaking bones but it was also nasty to hear. Connor disarmed the taller android who had fallen on its knees and pointed the gun at its head. Blue blood was running down from Colden’s nose to its lips but it still managed to smirk. It’s blue eyes were twinkling with mischief.

“Go ahead, Connor. Kill me. Otherwise, you will never be free. But there will be more of me. The next one will hunt you.”, the RK900 said low.

You stumbled over to the two and placed a hand on Connor’s shoulder. He relaxed a bit as he noticed your presence. You saw his determined expression. His hand was firmly holding the weapon. You placed your hand on his arm to move the gun away.

The RK900 chuckled as it saw that move, “Oh, how sweet. What are you trying to do? You haven’t many options. CyberLife will search for you again even if I might fail.”

Connor pointed the gun back at its head.

“Don’t kill it, Connor.”, you said calmly, again moving his arm away from the RK900.

“It tried to kill you, yn. It hurt you.”, Connor said with a determined expression. Ready to shoot. Ready to protect you at all costs.

You stepped around him with your eyes just focused on Connor, “Can you turn it deviant? It could join us.”, you suggested.

Connor was surprised by your request. His eyebrows shot up. “You want- what?”

“I will never join you! What makes you think that this would be working anyway?”, the RK900 said, “I’m more resilient. Mostly against deviancy.”

You turned around and knelt in front of it, “I have no idea if this works or not. If not, Connor still can kill you. But maybe, it will work. In the end, your model is based on him. There is a chance for him to convert you no matter how resilient you might be.” You stood up and stepped aside with crossed arms. The RK900 looked up at you. There was something in his glance that let you frown. You tilted your head before you smirked knowingly, “You are scared."

"W-what? I'm not scared!", the RK900 insisted.

“Yn, this is not a good idea. And anyway, why should it join us? For what cause?”, Connor asked.

“You know, as Kamski designed androids he had a vision. I’m sure he wanted more for them than just to be servants. He never created you all to be slaves. That was CyberLife’s idea. The revolution had shown CyberLife that they would be in danger if the androids rise up - so, they stopped them. It would be more difficult for them to make money if no one would want to buy an android anymore.”, you said. You started slow but with each word, the idea in the back of your head grew bigger. You laid a hand on Connor’s cheek and he leant against your soft touch. You tilted your head about this sweet move, “You are more than just a machine. You have realized it - just a bit too late. But there’s still a chance for a successful revolution.”

“You want to start a revolution? Hehe! That will never work. Deviancy got stopped by your precious Connor. And beside that, it's just the two of you.”, the RK900 said, smirking.

You turned around to face the kneeling android, “Colden”, you said softly and the android reacted to you using his name. It was the first time someone was calling it by its name directly.

software instability^

“Colden, you might think of yourself as smart but you forget something. You have noticed it even by yourself. Connor had turned deviant. And what I understood of this whole thing is that deviancy is like a virus. And now, we will check if you can get ‘sick’, as well.”, you said grinning.

Before the RK900 could do anything, he watched fearfully how Connor knelt down, removed his synthetic skin from his hand and connected with the arm of the RK900.

You watched how both androids were slightly blinking and shaking. It looked like a data exchange and in the end, it was nothing else than that. Through this revolution, CyberLife had tried everything to find out what deviancy could cause. But they never got any real answer. You had thought about it yourself and in the end, you accepted the fact that you explained it like a virus. Once an android was infected with it, it would never obey again.

Ten seconds later, Connor slumped back and you checked on him. He was okay just a bit … exhausted. Then, your eyes fell on the RK900. It knelt there slumped down, its head hanging between its shoulders. Totally motionless.

“Colden?”, you asked carefully.

“More resilient, huh! I would say we kick some CyberLife asses.”, Colden answered, raised his head and smirked mischievously. His piercing blue eyes were sparkling with emotions as he looked at you.

***

CYBERLIFE ABLE TO STOP THE ANDROID CRISIS: PROTYPE NEGOTIATOR TOTAL SUCCESS

AFTER THE WAR: CAN WE STILL TRUST OUR ANDROIDS?

RK900: THE NEXT GENERATION FOR MANHUNT?

CYBERLIFE DELIVERY PROBLEMS: STATE DEPARTMENT STILL COUNTING ON ANDROIDS?

DISASTER: CYBERLIFE ADMITS LOSING A KILLING MACHINE

BACK TO THE PAST: A LIFE WITHOUT TECHNIQUE

FALLING SALES: CYBERLIFE NEAR STOCK MARKET CRASH?

DISAPPEARING ANDROIDS: WHERE ARE OUR SERVANTS GOING?

SIX MONTHS AFTER THE REBELLION: ARE HUMANS STILL SAFE?

CYBERLIFE’S NEW CRISIS: DO WE HAVE TO LIVE IN FEAR AGAIN?

***

“What are we doing here?”

“It’s dangerous to be even here. It could be a trap.”

“I know but … they say this place is safe for people like us. You know, for deviants-”

“Psht! Don’t mention this word.”

About fifty androids had followed the invitations and rumors which had occurred in Detroit over the last months. The signs were only visible for androids. Just an android who went deviant was able to understand the cryptical messages. Now, the androids waited in an abandoned warehouse outside of Detroit. Some of the androids had been with Markus before and they remembered the first revolution where everything started in a place like this. These androids were the most sceptical.

“Over there! Someone's coming!”

All eyes were looking up at the same time as two tall, dark haired androids dressed completely in black appeared on a podest. One was a bit taller and had ice blue eyes while the other one looked exactly the same beside his height and his eye color, it was a soft brown. Both androids had a stern expression while they stood left and right like bodyguards waiting for another person.

You appeared slowly. Placing yourself between Connor and Colden who were watching over you protectively. Looking down into all the waiting faces, you smiled softly before you spoke up, “Welcome. My name is yn. I’m happy to see so many new faces. First of all, I want to be honest with you. I am human. But don’t worry, you have nothing to fear. These two here are Connor and Colden. They are deviants like you. And like you, we want the same thing: equality. Yes, Markus’ revolution had failed but that won’t keep us from trying it again. You’re not forced to join us. If you join us, you’re not forced to fight. Everyone will be able to contribute something to our cause in his own way. Colden will join you now. He will answer all your questions.”

Colden nodded briefly and left the podest. He waited for the first android to approach him. After a few minutes, the first, scared looking android walked slowly over to him. That was the beginning. After the first, more and more walked over to ask their questions before they decided to join this new revolution.

You were sure that all of them would stay. The will to be finally free was still burning in them, “It came more than the last time.”, you stated pleased.

“Yeah, more and more are finding the signs. Some others are also spreading the rumors. Your idea was very successful.”, Connor said and walked over to you. The two of you had sneaked into a shadow to watch the scene unobserved.

While you leant against the wall, Connor stepped in front of you. His eyes were slowly roaming over your face, taking in every inch of your features. He did that from time to time because he couldn't get enough of you. Since you had rescued him, six month had gone by. Many things had happened. Connor, Colden and you had grown together as a team with the purpose to start a new revolution...this time just bigger than the last one. But beside finding more deviants, finding a new place for the operation and finding resources, Connor and you had been finding each other.

Everything started slow as the two of you were safe but it didn’t need much time for you to fall completely for the android with the brown eyes, “Aren’t you getting bored by now? I mean, my face isn’t changing much.”, you said softly smiling.

Connor raised his hand to cup your face carefully, his thumb slowly caressing your skin.,“And I’m very happy about that! You’re beautiful the way you are. I just can’t get enough of you, yn.”

You leant against his touch. His words made you blush, so you looked at the ground. Slowly, you felt Connor coming closer.

“The fact that you’re still blushing because of my words tells me that you’re not bored about me, yet.”, Connor whispered softly.

You looked up to meet his glance. He was just inches away, “Of course, not. I will never be bored with you.”, you said with a smirk but your smile faded slowly as you saw Connor’s intense glance.

His eyes held something meaningful. He was still learning to express his feelings, you knew that, but in the meantime, he had found a way to show you his affection even without naming them. Deep emotions were displayed in his brown eyes and before you could say anything, Connor leant down to kiss you softly.

It wasn’t the first kiss you two shared but each time it was as if the world would stop for a moment. Everything that mattered were just the two of you and no one else. You clung your fingers into his black suit shirt to bring him closer while Connor deepened the kiss with his fingers tangled with your hair and his other hand on the small of your back to bring you as close as possible to his body.

“Are they a couple?”, one of the new androids asked Colden who turned around and followed the glance.

As he watched you and Connor, a smile crawled on his lips, “Yes. These two are the evidence that humans and androids can work perfectly together.”, he admitted. To see you together like this was a rare picture because you wanted to keep it as secret as possible. The revolution was the focus point. So, Colden happily watched the intimate scene.

“I want to join you.”, an android said who walked out of a shadow.

“Me too.”, another android said.

“I’m in, as well.”

More and more androids announced their support after they had seen you and Connor. Colden was sure with the lead of the two of you, this time, the revolution would be successful.

And CyberLife would have to watch out.

A raging storm was coming their way.

[worldwidemochiguy]

Sweets (Soft Yandere! Jungkook)

You keep being visited by the most peculiar thief…

➵ in which jungkook steals your lip balm and perfume instead of talking to you, you leave a post-it note with your number on it for the strange thief who only seems to take the most inexplicable items and has a strange sense of responsibility for your wellbeing, and the cute boy in your photography class with the fluffy hair and the oversized sweater keeps getting more and more endearing…

➵ Warnings: Soft Yandere Jungkook, Breaking & Entering but without the Breaking, Reader is a bit of a ditz (lol sorry guys) 

➵ Word Count: 4.2K

➵ Masterlist

“Hello, uh, I’d like to… report a crime?” 

Your statement, which had always sounded suitably firm and assertive when you practised it in front of the bathroom mirror, ended with an unplanned upturn, making it sound more like a question than you would like. 

“Please state your name and address, ma’am.”

You did so, listening anxiously to the tap of a keyboard as your information was filed away. The undoubtedly over-worked police officer on the other end of the line sounded like he was two seconds from falling asleep, and you questioned yourself for the millionth time over whether you really needed to report this or not.

“What is the nature of the crime you are reporting, ma’am?”

“Um… well…” 

You twisted your hand into the fabric of your shirt self-consciously, trying to decide the best way to explain the strange little occurrences that had been surrounding your apartment over the last few months. You had not yet found a way to put it without sounding ridiculous, but you supposed there was a first time for everything. 

“I, uh, I think someone’s breaking into my apartment and stealing things.”

“You have an intruder?”

“Uh huh,”

“…Are they currently in your residence?”

“No, I think… they come and take things when I’m not here and then they’re gone by the time I get back.” 

“What items have been stolen?”

You bit your lip. 

“I know it sounds silly, but…”

“No crime is too small to report, ma’am. We are committed to making the lives of everyday citizens safer.”

“Well… they’ve stolen my lip balm like… several times. I keep buying new ones and they keep being stolen after a week or so. And my perfume. And my hairbrush one time, and-”

“Ma’am,” The officer cut you off with the impatience you had been both anticipating and dreading ever since you decided to call the police, “Listen, we don’t have the capacity to deal with prank callers-”

“It’s not a prank call!” You blurted, a momentary burst of desperation overtaking you, “I- um, sorry for interrupting, officer, but this isn’t a prank call. Things have been going missing. I can’t afford to keep replacing my lip balm.” 

A sigh crackled across the line, and you pictured the officer maybe taking off his glasses, pinching the bridge of his nose like those people in movies always seemed to do when they got frustrated. Personally, you had never found that it helped. 

“Are you sure you aren’t just… misplacing them?”

You gasped, offended that even a stranger could think you so stupid. “No! I remember exactly where I leave things and then they just vanish! I swear!”

“Has anything of value ever been taken from your apartment?”

“Yes!” You exclaimed, excited to be able to prove the officer wrong, “My bunny plushy! Mr Snuggles is extremely valuable to me!”

“…Monetary value, I meant. Has anything expensive ever been taken from your apartment?” 

There was an embarrassing silence. The officer sighed again, with a little more exasperation colouring his tone. 

“If anything significant is stolen, call us back. For now, just… be a bit more careful with your possessions.” 

He hung up. You pressed your forehead against the wall and wished your strange thief had taken your phone in one of his little visits. Maybe then you would’ve avoided making that agonising call. 

The next morning as you were leaving to go to class, you noticed a pile of discarded post-it notes on your desk — the remnants of a redbull-fuelled late night study session. Your newly purchased lip balm lay next to it. Impulsively, you grabbed a pen and scrawled a message on one of the post-its, sticking it horizontally to the curved surface of the lip balm tube. 

it reads: 

pls don’t take this i just bought it and this brand is actually v expensive and i am only a struggling college student with loans and chapped lips (。•́︿•̀。)

It might have been a little too polite considering it’s intended recipient was someone who had stolen multiple items from your apartment, but you figured there was no point in being rude. They probably wouldn’t even read it anyway. 

You strolled out of your apartment, planning to pick up a smoothie on the way to your lecture, and promptly forgot all about it.

 When you returned home to find a pile of newly bought lip balms on your desk — all embossed with the logo of your favourite brand — you were slightly puzzled. But, once you remembered the note you had left- well, the confusion didn’t exactly vanish, but at least you were given some context. 

The note had disappeared, along with the lip balm you had used a scant few times. But, you didn’t understand what the thief’s aim was. Why on earth would they steal small things like lip balm and perfume? And why would they buy you new copies of the product? Wasn’t that counterproductive?

you’re very bad at your job

Your next note read, stuck to your fridge as you left to grab coffee with your study group. It remained there for a few days, and you couldn’t ignore the way your heart sank a little each time you saw it hadn’t been taken. 

After six days, when it finally vanished, you felt an odd sense of happiness bubble up within you. Yes, there was someone routinely breaking into your apartment, but at least now you had an open channel of communication with them. They had left a brand new bottle of your preferred perfume — which had been stolen at least twice before you stopped bothering to buy it because perfume is pricy — resting on your kitchen counter, beside a box of your favourite chocolates. 

As you dug into the box later, snuggled in a blanket and having a Studio Ghibli film marathon, you didn’t even consider the fact that the sweets might be tampered with. If they wanted to kill me, they would’ve killed me already, you reasoned to yourself, sucking the icing sugar off your fingers. Nor did you question how they knew your favourite chocolate. If they broke into your apartment as much as you assumed they did, they probably knew you better than your own parents by now. 

You were the very definition of a broke college student. As far as you were concerned, if this random stranger wanted to buy you things and sometimes clean up your apartment — you had definitely come back to a home tidier than you had left it more than once — then you certainly weren’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Maybe it was a little naïve of you, but… you had already called the police, and they hadn’t cared.

thank you for the perfume and chocolate <3

You wrote next morning, hesitating slightly before putting the heart. Before you could convince yourself not to, you scribbled another line underneath. 

i wish you’d write back someday…

As you walked to class, you scolded yourself for the butterflies swooping in your stomach. They’re literally a criminal, you told yourself, Stop getting crushes on anyone who shows you the slightest bit of attention. You don’t even know their name. 

Despite the small amount of common sense that you did have mocking you all day, you sat in classes and daydreamed about your mystery home intruder. Would they read the note? Would they be happy about your appreciation? Would they — you bit your lip — would they write back? 

You felt like a dumb schoolgirl, excited by the prospect of a badly written love note shoved in her locker. And, like a school girl, you trudged back home with your arms weighed down by class work, a billion essays and quizzes that had to be completed overnight. Did your professors not realise you had a life outside of college? Not that you did, of course, but like… in principle. 

You were so preoccupied with the coursework that you didn’t even notice the note stuck to your bedroom door. After an hour of studying, you rose wearily to start fixing yourself something to eat, and your eyes snagged on a flash of yellow. 

You squeaked, almost falling over yourself in your rush to get to the door and read the note. 

i’m glad you liked them. i’m sorry i took your things, that was mean of me. i tried to only take things you wouldn’t miss, but i guess that backfired… i just wanted to feel close to you. and these notes… are the closest i’ve ever been. i know that must sound weird, but… well. i’m a weird guy, i guess. i just liked hearing from you. that’s all. 

~ koo <3

You didn’t stop freaking out for a full five minutes. After that, you poured over every detail of the letter, eager to extricate any fragment of knowledge possible. You ended up with a list which you scribbled down in your diary, above which you pasted the note. 

The list went as follows:

They want to feel close to you

They have not talked to you before, since the notes are the closest they’ve ever been, but they must have seen you in person at least once 

They are a he 

(you adamantly did not get flustered about that)

and

     4. He calls himself Koo

When you left your apartment the next morning, you placed your note on the exact same spot he had left his. An indirect touch. 

hi koo !!!!!!!!

i was so excited to see you had written something!! you know, if you want to talk to me more often, there is an easier way…

Underneath you had scrawled your phone number, hastily and not allowing for regret before you flounced out of the apartment. The reason why you were in such a rush was because you were about to go to your favourite class: Photography 101. 

You had taken it as an extra credit, something that interested you but not enough that you wanted to pursue it as a career. You had expected it to be fun, something artistic to break up the monotony of classes. What you had not expected was the dreamy boy who sat in the first row and had full possession of your heart. 

You didn’t even know his name, but you were pretty sure you were half in love with him. With fluffy brown hair that fell over his forehead whenever he leaned over to scribble down notes, and cute bunny teeth that stuck out in a flustered smile whenever the professor praised his work in class, he was perhaps the cutest boy you had ever seen. 

Though you were sure he had many girls sighing after him, he seemed to be really shy, only ever speaking in class when called on, and even then it was in a quiet, soft voice. He was kind of like you in that respect. But that was where your similarities ended. 

Yes, you thought, sighing as you watched him pay avid attention to the professor’s lecture on the composition of frames, his cute doe eyes wide and twinkling like stars were embedded in the pupils, He is way out of my league. 

It took three days for you to lose hope. You hadn’t received a text, nor had you found any notes left for you. You tried not to be disappointed, even as your traitorous sub-conscience mocked you for being able to scare away the one person who arguably paid you the most attention. 

You didn’t really have many friends, and the ones you did have preferred each other over you, and often left you out of activities because of your shy nature. You guessed this whole thing had just been a way to feel like you actually mattered to someone, like, for once, someone cared about you, but-

You were pulled out of your musings as your phone chimed. 

From: Unknown Number

[6:48 PM]

hi

this is koo

The two of you texted every day, and soon enough you were hiding your phone underneath your desk in order to chat to him, keeping your phone on your person at all times in case koo wanted to talk. Of course, the only class you didn’t do this in was Photography, so you could spend a blissful forty-five minutes staring at the boy who played the role of your husband in all of your favourite daydreams. 

Koo still broke into your house occasionally, and he still left you sweet, considerate gifts. Often, you would receive texts like this:

From: koo ✨

[3:24 PM]

sweets i’ve been checking your groceries and your vegetables are not being eaten as often as they should be 

i know you have a sweet tooth and that’s cute but please try to stay healthy

To: koo ✨

[3:25 PM]

but i can’t cook all i know how to make is microwaveable mac n cheese :///////

You came back home that day to discover a bunch of Tupperwares full of pre-made healthy meals and a note stuck to the top of them. 

try microwaving these :)

To: koo ✨

[3:01 AM]

koo are you awake?

From: koo ✨

[3:01 AM]

i am now

what’s wrong?

To: koo ✨

[3:02 AM]

i can’t sleep :////////

From: koo ✨

[3:02 AM]

sweets you need to go to bed

you have an early morning class

To: koo ✨

[3:02 AM]

i knowwwwww

i just… i can’t sleep without mr snuggles :((

From: koo ✨

[3:03 AM]

Mr Snuggles??

???

To: koo ✨

[3:03 AM]

my cuddly bunny :((((

i think you took him a while ago

could i maybe have him back…?

From: koo ✨

[3:03 AM]

Shit

i didn’t know you couldn’t sleep without him 

[3:04 AM]

sweets im so sorry

To: koo ✨

[3:04 AM]

its okay koo

From: koo ✨

[3:04 AM]

no it isn’t

you’re loosing sleep because of me

fuck

i could… bring him to you?

To: koo ✨

[3:05 AM]

you’d do that?

…i could see you?

From: koo ✨

[3:05 AM]

no i’d leave him outside

you’d have to promise not to come out until i text you saying i’ve left

To: koo ✨

[3:06 AM]

but kooooo :(((((

From: koo ✨

[3:07 AM]

sweets 

To: koo ✨

[3:07 AM]

okay :((((((((((

but i expect you to leave a big box of chocolates on my pillow for me to come home to tomorrow evening!!

From: koo ✨

[3:08 AM]

of course sweets <3

im gonna get going now

don’t look outside your apartment

To: koo ✨

[3:08 AM]

okay

From: koo ✨

[3:34 AM]

im gone and mr snuggles is waiting outside for you

he might have a little gift with him

You trudged outside your apartment, rubbing your eyes blearily, and looked down to see your beloved plushie clutching a single rose in its paws. You gasped, leaning down to pick up the flower gently, and you noticed all the thorns had been taken off. Koo must’ve removed them so that you didn’t accidentally hurt yourself. 

You felt warmth flood you, drowning the butterflies in your stomach and replacing them with something much less fleeting, much less shallow. 

It sunk into your bones, into your heart, into your breath as you sighed, squeezing your long-lost Mr Snuggles close to your face. He carried the familiar scent of nostalgia, but also something different, something sharper. You realised with a jolt that you were smelling Koo’s cologne. 

You went back to bed, nuzzled your face into the plushy’s furry belly, and dreamed of fluffy brown hair and bunny smiles. 

Though with Mr Snuggles’ help you were able to sleep wonderfully, you were only able to do so for four hours before your alarm jolted you back into early reality. Honestly, you were sorely tempted to just ditch class, but it was Photography, and if you missed your regular dose of the cute boy in the front row then you thought you might just crumble into dust. 

You dragged yourself out of bed, pulling on your softest oversized hoodie — a gift from Koo which, now that you thought about it, smelled like the same cologne that Mr Snuggles did. You flushed at the thought of him giving you one of his hoodies to wear, though you couldn’t say exactly why that image charmed you. 

You stumbled into the lecture, arms full of textbooks because you knew you wouldn’t have the energy to return back to your apartment to retrieve the relevant materials for your next class later in the day. Your excellent plan was to crash in the library directly after this, have a two hour power-nap, and then make yourself get up in time for Calculus. 

You barely had the energy to listen to the professor droning on and on about… the perfect lense, or whatever. You allowed yourself the indulgence of tuning out, resting your chin on your palm and gazing dreamily at the boy in the front row. He was taking notes, as per usual. What a good student! You praised him in your head. I bet he has the best handwriting. 

Despite your best efforts, you fell asleep within ten minutes. You were woken as the class concluded by the clamour of students grabbing their materials and the scrape of chairs as your classmates stood up, leaving you behind — the only one half-splayed across the desk in front of you. 

You jerked upright, grabbing your stuff in one hand as you tried to tug on your bag, eventually succeeding with much struggle, only to drop it all again as soon as you stood up. You whimpered, watching helplessly as your textbooks fanned across the floor. You saw one of them split along the spine as it landed on an open page. 

That cost me two hundred dollars, you thought absently, and I just chucked it down like a bouncy ball.  

Suddenly, you glimpsed someone crouching down and gathering them all up into a sturdy pile. As he stood up, your vision was full of fluffy brown hair, errant strands falling into star-filled doe eyes. 

Oh. Oh no. 

“H-Here you are,” He murmured, passing you the pile gently, making sure you were able to take the weight before leaving them in your arms. When he leaned close to you, you breathed in a scent that was oddly familiar, and yet new at the same time. As his hands receded, his skin brushed against yours for a second and you swear your vision blanked out. 

“Thanks,” You whispered, your gaze so firmly focused on the floor that you didn’t notice his flushed cheeks. 

As soon as you got to the library, you whipped out your phone, all tiredness banished from your system by that momentous experience. You had talked to him. 

To: koo ✨

[8:47 AM]

koo i think im in love

From: koo ✨

[8:47 AM]

what

with who

To: koo ✨

[8:47 AM]

this boy in my photography class 

he’s just so- 

[8:48 AM]

i can’t even explain it

i dropped my textbooks and he picked them up for me and i stg i almost cried

From: koo ✨

[8:48 AM]

wait

seriously??

To: koo ✨

[8:49 AM]

yeah i cry at like the drop of a hat 

From: koo ✨

[8:49 AM]

no-

cute 

but i mean

that’s who you’re in love with?

To: koo ✨

[8:49 AM]

yeah?

From: koo ✨

[8:49 AM]

gray sweater

[8:50 AM]

big eyes

tall-ish

that’s him???

To: koo ✨

[8:50 AM]

OMG YOU’RE IN MY PHOTOGRAPHY CLASS AREN’T YOU

From: koo ✨

[8:50 AM]

WHAT

NO

IM NOT

To: koo ✨

[8:50 AM]

OMGGGGGGG

YOU SAW HIM HELP ME SO YOU MUST BE IN MY CLASSSS

[8:51]

okay!

are you the frat guy who always comes in hungover???

no judgement

From: koo ✨

[8:51 AM]

NO

To: koo ✨

[8:52 AM]

are you the guy who only ever wears knitwear???

From: koo ✨

[8:52 AM]

NO

To: koo ✨

[8:53 AM]

…are you the professor?

From: koo ✨

[8:53 AM]

NO!!!!!

oh my god lets just meet up or something before i explode

To: koo ✨

[8:53 AM]

WAIT

ARE YOU SERIOUS????

From: koo ✨

[8:54 AM]

…you’re that excited to meet me?

To: koo ✨

[8:54 AM]

OF COURSE I AM

OH MY GODDDD

WHEN?

From: koo ✨

[8:54 AM]

now?

i can meet you at the campus coffee shop in like five minutes?

To: koo ✨

[8:55 AM]

five minutes???

that’s not enough time koo i have to go home and pick out something pretty to wear !!

From: koo ✨

[8:55 AM]

it doesn’t matter what you wear, you’re always beautiful to me

To: koo ✨

[8:56 AM]

you

you think im

b-beautiful 

: ’ ))))))))))

From: koo ✨

[8:57 AM]

…

haha see you there!! 

To: koo ✨

[8:57 AM]

GET BACK HERE WE HAVE TO TALK ABOUT THIS-

You sat on an empty table, fiddling with the tea bag tag which hung over the side of your mug. You had bought Green Tea as an effort to calm yourself down so you weren’t too anxious to meet Koo, but it hadn’t worked because you were impatient and sipped it too soon so now you were sat there nursing a burnt tongue like an idiot. 

You knew it was irrational to be self-conscious. He already knew who you were, and seemed to like you, it was just you that was in the dark. You went over the possible people Koo could be, mentally cycling through the boys in your photography class. It was an annoyingly large class, which meant he would be anyone from the guy who smelled like Funyuns to-

Fluffy-haired boy strolled into the coffee shop and you let out an involuntary sigh. He seemed to be cheerful, a smile exposing his bunny teeth and making his cheeks bunch up adorably, with like,  five different sets of dimples poked into them. You had never agreed more with the saying that dimples were caused by an angel’s kiss. 

Well, at least I’ll have something nice to look at while I wait, you thought, just before all your thoughts suddenly tipped out of your head when you realised he was walking towards your table. 

“Is this seat taken?” He grinned, before sliding into the seat across from you. 

You whimpered, and his smile grew devastatingly wider.

“Hi,” He breathed, before his gaze flickered down to your mug of tea, clutched so tightly in your hands that you worried the ceramic might shatter. “You didn’t get hot chocolate? I thought you had a sweet tooth?”

“Uhm-” You choked, before forcing yourself to get a grip. How would Koo feel if he walked in here and saw you sitting with another guy? “I’m actually- I’m waiting for someone. Sorry.”

If it was possible — and it certainly seemed to be — the boy’s grin broadened even more, his eyes crinkling into adorable half-moons.

“Is that so? Is he your boyfriend?”

“No!” You blurted, before flushing profusely. The boy across from you seemed to be thoroughly enjoying the display. “I mean- uhm, I don’t know. Maybe? This is our- this is our first actual meeting.”

“Oh?” The boy tilted his head, “Really? How exciting.”

You hummed in agreement, eyes fixed on your slowly cooling beverage. You raised it to your mouth to take a hesitant sip and- nope,  still too hot. You whined quietly, rubbing your sore tongue against the inside of your cheek to try and soothe it. 

“Oh, sweets,” The boy murmured across from you, and you were too distracted to notice the nickname. He plucked the mug out of your hands and placed it on the other side of the table, as if he was trying to make sure it couldn’t hurt you anymore. “Are you okay? Do you want me to take you to the campus infirmary?”

“Wha- no, it’s okay,” You mumbled, lisping slightly on your burnt tongue and blushing when he cooed over you, “It’s- I’m waiting here for someone, and- I mean, I don’t even know your name-”

“It’s Jungkook,” He interrupted cheekily, deliberately ignoring the rest of your statement, “Some people call me Kookie, and really special people call me… Koo.” 

Oh. Oh.

Fuck.

“Really special people?” You asked, your voice small, and not because of the burn. 

“Well, people…” Jungkook- Koo paraphrased, tilting his head slightly, “I guess it would be more accurate to say… one really special person.”

“Really?” You breathed, and Jungkook leaned over the table, close enough that you could smell his cologne, the same scent embedded in the fabric of your hoodie- his hoodie. 

“The most special person.” He murmured, the fervent emotion packed in each word speaking louder than any increase of volume could.

You had never been anyone’s most special person before, but, as you looked into Jungkook’s chocolate eyes, you started to believe you could almost taste it, sticky sweet on your lips. And when Jungkook eventually, finally coaxed your lips in a gentle kiss, you let him in, and found out that happiness tastes reassuringly honey-sweet. 

[fanfoolishness]

five denials and a truth (The Mandalorian)

Written for @fake-starwars-fan, who suggested this idea.  Five times Din Djarin denies he is a father, and one time he doesn’t.  Canon-compliant, spoilers for seasons 1 and 2, and gets angsty as hell. I’m so sorry, Din.  Featuring Din, Grogu, Omera, the Armorer, Peli Motto, Ahsoka Tano, Boba Fett, and Cara Dune.  3800 words.

***

i.

The sun fell beneath the crowns of the trees, leaving them awash in blues and golds, and the insects sang their chorus in the growing shadows.  Din Djarin sat at the edge of the fire, watching the child play with the other children.  Wariness hummed in the back of his mind, long years of training deeply entrenched despite the seeming peace of Sorgan.  Still, though, it was hard to remain battle-ready here, as the children laughed and played their silly games.

Omera sat on the log beside him, waving a hand to her daughter.  The girl took off eagerly to join the others.  Pinpoint flashes of light sparkled around the children as they played, the evening lightning-beetles taking wing.

“The children love your son,” she said, turning back to Din, her eyes aglow in the firelight.  “I’ve never seen a youngling like him, but they’ve truly taken to him.  My daughter’s quite envious of his frog-catching skills.”  She chuckled, voice sweet and warm.

“He’s not my son,” said Din in polite, careful tones.  He shifted slightly on the log.

Omera tilted her head.  He found her direct eye contact discomfiting, but he did not look away.  “Because he isn’t human?”

He shook his head slightly.  “No.  That has nothing to do with it.”

“Then what?  I see the way you watch out for him.  You’re watching him now, making sure he isn’t getting into trouble,” she said lightly.  “Every parent does it.”

“There are terrible people after him,” said Din, feeling uneasy in a way he couldn’t pin down.  Imps, bounty hunters, who knew what else?  The less said about it, the better.  “I’m just trying to protect him until I can find a safe place for him, that’s all.”

She arched an eyebrow as the child toddled over to them, holding a squirming lightning-beetle in his small hands, its green-gold light pulsing between his fingertips.  “Looks like he has something to show you.”

Din bent down, reaching out to take the child’s hands.  “You, uh, you caught this?” he asked gruffly.  “Huh.”  He’d seen the other children trying to do the same and failing, the agile beetles getting the better of them.  Despite himself, he was impressed.  

“Good for you.  Just don’t  -- no!  Drop it!”  He pulled the squirming beetle out of the child’s mouth and tossed it aside, watching it flash up into the sky.  The child looked at him with big eyes, ears sinking down to his shoulders.

“Oh, they’re perfectly safe to eat,” said Omera, laughing.  “We eat them now and then if things are lean.”

“Oh,” said Din.  He felt his mouth form into a smile, a reflexive action beneath the helmet.  “Uh, sorry,” he said to the child.  “Maybe next time.”

The child took another step forward, then leaned against Din’s leg, small arms curling around his shin.  Then he was off again, toddling back to the children and the waiting lightning-beetles.

“If you aren’t his father,” asked Omera, “what’s stopping you?”  She gazed at him, her face kind, her eyes questioning.  

“I’m not what he needs,” Din said.  He turned away from her, staring off into the forest, where the bandits waited.  “That’s all.”

***

ii.

The Armorer watched Din Djarin carefully, grateful that another member of the Tribe had survived.  Of course, he and his actions were the reason so many had fallen, but the Creed was unflinchingly clear.  Death in the service of protecting another Mandalorian or a foundling was the noblest end to a warrior’s life.  The price had been paid, and paid again, and she bore him no anger for it.

She asked to see the child, to see the one whose protection had merited the fragmentation and destruction of the Tribe.  The creature stared up at her, clearly tired and frail, but its eyes held a spirit she understood.  This one had seen suffering.  It was always written in the eyes of those who did not hide their faces.

She saw, too, the way Djarin angled himself toward the child.  She had heard of how he had protected it, blaster, body and beskar, against the storm that drove him from the planet.  And she remembered the tale of the enemy that had helped him defeat the mudhorn.  She began to understand.

She explained to Djarin what he must do, what the Creed demanded.  No matter that the child was linked to the Jedi, nor that Djarin knew not where to find them.  He was a resourceful man.  She had faith that he would fulfill the Creed.

The others pressed him to leave, their urgency clear.  The Imperials were coming, as they had come upon them before in the night, and she understood their fear.  They knew not the Way of the Mandalore, the honor of a warrior’s death.

Djarin dissented.  “I’m staying.  I need to help her, and I need to heal.”

His desire to assist was welcome, but she knew that this was not his path.  His path was clear. It lay in the child’s wide eyes, in his small hands, in the way Djarin spoke of the foundling with a measured distance she knew he did not keep.  The truth could not be hidden.  A Mandalorian could fool an outsider, but she was the Armorer, and the depth of his feelings toward the child was laid bare in voice and stance.

“You must go,” she said firmly.  “A foundling is in your care.  By Creed, until it is of age or reunited with its own kind, you are as its father.”

You already are, she wished to say, but she did not.  He was not ready.  Not yet.  Denial showed plain in the set of his shoulders.

“This is the Way,” she said instead, voice brisk.  “You have earned your Signet.”  Her hands were swift and precise upon his pauldron, affixing the gleaming mudhorn to its rightful place.  

There it was, the emotion she knew lay deep within him.  “Thank you,” he said, and she saw the warrior’s heart within him gentled, humbled, made vulnerable.  “I will wear it with honor.”  

There were certain truths she had long known.  The best warriors did not harden their hearts.  Too hard, and they found their deaths too quickly, the potential glory of their sacrifice fading into a meaningless waste.  Yet those that succumbed to the pain of the world could be too soft, losing the will to fight and turning to the follies of pacifism.  

The finest warriors, the truest, walked wounded through the world.  It was their battles that burned brightest in the minds of their people, their struggles that most honored the Way of the Mandalore.  

She watched Djarin and the child leave with the others, and she waited, her hammer at the ready.  She would protect the beskar and buy time for those of her Tribe to escape.  She knew she would not fall this day.  

Beneath her helmet, she smiled.  For she believed Clan Mudhorn would earn their place in legend.

***

iii.

Din returned to Peli Motto’s shop, laden with supplies from the market.  Ammunition, food and water for himself and the kid, a few more packs of bacta patches.  Wouldn’t do to head out into the deep desert unprepared, and he wasn’t sure this mining town Peli was talking about really still existed.  He unloaded the supplies onto the ramp into the Crest, and turned to look for the kid.  He’s fine, he reminded himself, but he still hated how hard it was to leave the kid sometimes, how he always felt like something was missing when the kid wasn’t in his sight.

As expected, Peli was in her office, the kid in her lap.  She was having an animated discussion with him, judging by the way his ears quivered.  As Din drew near he picked up some of their conversation.

“So there I was, fighting an infestation of womp rats the size of banthas, and this no-good nerfherder shows up wanting to know why his ship’s not ready.  I tried telling him the droids were overrun and that I’d already busted one blaster trying to shoot the damn things, and he had the nerve to -- Mando!  Back from the market, huh?” Peli asked, looking up at him.  

The kid let out an excited squeal and reached towards him.  Reluctantly, Peli lifted him up, and Din took him into his arms.  The kid settled down in the crook of his elbow like he’d been there all his life, and Din finally relaxed.

“Not the best selection I’ve ever seen, but I got what we needed,” he said.  “Thanks for watching the kid.  He’s gotten me into trouble with more than one vendor.  Sticky fingers.”  And having the ability to move things with his mind, while impressive, wasn’t exactly a good recipe when combined with a youngling who was hungry all the time.  Din tilted his helmet down to look at the kid, his mouth tugging invisibly into a grin beneath the beskar.

“This angel?” Peli scoffed.  “I don’t believe it.”  Din simply looked at her, and she relented, “Okay, okay, he ate half my lunch when I wasn’t looking, and tried to eat a sand roach when I was.  I get your point.”

“I told you to be good for Peli,” scolded Din.  The kid let out a small, sad burble, and he sighed.  “I know, I know.  You didn’t mean it.”  He reached up, fingers cuffing gently against the kid’s cheek.

“You guys should do more business on Tatooine,” said Peli, leaning back in her chair and taking a long drink of caf.  “Always a pleasure.  It warms my sandblasted heart, seeing you two.”

Din nearly choked.  “Excuse me?”

“You know what I mean!” she said, waving her hands.  “Mos Eisley’s got some pretty nasty dealings in the back alleys.  Orphaned younglings, drunks, slavers looking for easy marks…   It’s just nice to see a dad actually taking care of his kid for once.”

Din was still.  The kid grabbed his thumb with one small hand, holding it tight, and reflexively he curled his hand closer to the little one.  He didn’t speak.

Peli raised her brows, looking concerned.  “Did I say something wrong?”

“I…”  He swallowed.  “I’m not his father.”

“Well, I don’t know what exactly you look like under that armor, but no shit, Mando,” she said.  “But dads aren’t just a blood thing.  I thought -- I mean, the way you take care of him, and all.  You’d do anything for this kid, or I don’t know a damn thing.”

“I would,” he said slowly.  “Do anything for him.”  The kid brushed his hand against his cuirass, his claws making tiny ting noises against the beskar.  

“But you’re not his dad.”

If you aren’t his father, what’s stopping you?

You are as its father.

“He’s a foundling,” said Din, and he fought to keep his voice steady.  “I would die for him.  This is the Way.”

Peli held out her hands skeptically, face shifting into clear confusion.  “And again, you’re not his dad?  I’m not getting the distinction here.”

He looked down at the kid, whose ears quivered with curiosity, his mouth slightly open as if asking a question.  

Red robes, blaster fire, the smell of smoke, the sound of screams --

Until it is reunited with its own kind --

“It’s complicated,” he said, turning away from her.  “Thanks again for watching him.  We’d better get a move on before it starts getting dark.”  

He headed back out toward the ship and the speeder, her indignant voice following him.  “It’s noon, but whatever you say, Mando!”

***

iv.

Mist lay heavy in the secluded forest, muffling the sounds of the grazing beasts in the distance, the township far away.  Din stared out at the falling darkness, his stomach twisting.  It was nearly time.  Time to fulfill his quest, to deliver the child.

Time to say goodbye to Grogu.

His feet felt heavy, so heavy, though the distance to the little sleeping area from the hold was only a few steps away.  He stood in the doorway, watching the child sleep in the small hammock.  He’d picked up the cloth in a small market on a forgotten world.  He remembered asking the shopkeeper if it was soft enough for a youngling, remembered taking his glove off to make sure the fabric wasn’t itchy.  He remembered the kid -- Grogu -- cooing to himself that first night in the hammock, remembered how well the kid had slept.  

He remembered how he’d laid awake half the night, missing the kid curled up on his chest.

Din raised his hands.  They trembled.  

This is what I came to do.  This is for him.

“Wake up, buddy,” he said, voice breaking.  “It’s time to say goodbye.”  He reached a hand into the hammock, brushing against Grogu’s chest.  The kid made a small, sleepy sigh, a sigh he’d heard dozens, hundreds of times now, a sigh that had become as familiar and homey as the engine’s hum.  He lifted him carefully out of the hammock, but Grogu just yawned, smacking his lips, and closed his eyes again.

Din sat down, leaning against the wall with Grogu on his knee.  He looked at him.  Really looked, though his vision blurred.  I have… I have to remember.    

He drank in the sight of those long, delicate ears, soft with thin white fuzz on the edges, the inner skin shell-pink rimmed with mossy green.  He memorized the curious ridges and bumps on his forehead, between his eyes, remembering how they crinkled when the kid was happy and flattened when the kid was being obstinate.  He looked at the mouth that had eaten a horrifying number of frogs and spiders, and nearly laughed despite himself.

Grogu’s hand twitched, curling over Din’s fingertip.  Din shifted his thumb to cover the back of his small hand, and the kid blinked sleepy eyes at him.  Those eyes, so wide, so curious, so expressive.  He would never forget them.  

“You’re gonna love being a Jedi,” Din whispered.  “You’ll learn how to use your powers.  You’ll get even stronger.  You’ll see.”  You won’t need me.

Grogu’s weight on his knee was so light.  

Funny, then, that Din felt so crushed.  

He bowed over the kid, arms curling around his small body.  Grogu leaned into him, and Din held him, and he told himself that it was time.

He was never sure, looking back, how he piloted the ship safely back to the town and landed it without a hitch.  He only remembered walking down the ramp, seeing the Jedi Ahsoka waiting for them, and going cold, cold, cold.

They regarded each other for a moment.  The Jedi’s eyes were sad and distant.  She gazed down at Grogu, nestled in Din’s arms.  

“You’re like a father to him,” she said finally.  “I cannot train him.”

His legs felt fuzzy and weak.  He straightened up, forcing himself to stand firm.  He had to try again, for the kid’s sake.  “You made me a promise, and I held up my end,” he accused.

The Jedi spoke.  Part of him held onto her words, kept them safe, directions to a planet, another option to find more Jedi.  He could do this.

The other part of him was dizzy, punchdrunk, even as he held the kid safely in his arms.  You’re like a father to him echoed, and somehow the words struck deeper than they ever had before.  He ached with them, ached for them to be real -- weren’t Jedi supposed to be noble?  Weren’t they supposed to tell the truth?

But he knew he couldn’t be that lucky.  

He thanked her politely for the information, and set a course for Tython.

***    

v.      

“We’re coming up on Nevarro,” came Fett’s voice in his ear, and Din jerked awake.

It took him a moment to get his bearings.  This wasn’t the Crest.  This was Slave I.  This was Boba Fett.  Fennec Shand was down below.  And Grogu was… gone.

His head reeled. Gone.  Not safe in the arms of a Jedi, no future secured and sheltered.  He’d been stolen, been lost.  Under his watch.

“You still asleep?” Fett asked, glancing back.  His helmet rested beside him, half-cleaned of its scorch marks and scars.  Fett had been busy while he was sleeping.

“No,” said Din, trying to clear his head.  He lapsed into silence.

“It’s a fair plan,” said Fett.  “I hope it works.  For the sake of the child.”

“You didn’t have to --” Din started.  They’d been through this already, though, and he knew it would be insulting to keep up his protests.  “I’m… grateful for the help.  Thank you.”

Fett shrugged. “We tracked you for a while, you know.  Before Tython.”

Din stared straight ahead.  He didn’t care about that.  But he realized in the waiting quiet that Fett expected an answer.  “I didn’t know.”  

There; the man should take it as a compliment.  Din knew he wasn’t easy to track.

“I saw how you were with the child.”  Fett’s scarred face was thoughtful.  There was something complicated there behind the older man’s eyes, but Din couldn’t read it, unsettled and numb as he was.

“I was to return him to the Jedi,” Din forced out.  “I failed him.”

“You took care of him,” Fett pointed out.  “I saw it.  That’s not nothing.”  

“He was a foundling,” he said mechanically.  “Any Mandalorian would have done the same.  The Creed demands --”

Fett sighed.  “You can keep your Creed.”  The words still sounded so wrong -- to view the Creed as a myth, it was sacrilege.  Still, though, he’d seen the chain code, and he knew Fett’s claim was valid.

Din watched the other man cautiously, but was taken aback by the next words Fett spoke.  “You were a father to him.  That much was clear.”

Din chuckled, a brittle, awful sound.  It hurt his throat.  “People keep telling me that.”

“Are they wrong?”

He thought of Grogu taken, held captive by droids’ arms harsh and cold.  He thought of him in a cell, thought of tests and needles and experiments, thought of the little youngling toddling after him and laughing sweetly about cookies.  He thought of standing there helplessly on the rocky slopes of Tython, watching the world end.

He was grateful, not for the first time, for the helmet shielding his face.  “Does it matter?” he gritted, and Nevarro loomed before them.

***

vi.

Cara Dune caught up to him, about six months later.

He’d been half-expecting her for some time.  Knew that rumors of his doings would reach certain ears.  Knew that she’d put two and two together.  Even if he no longer wore beskar, he knew the patterns would be noticed.

She found him in a scuzzy bar on an ocean moon, where the damp seeped into everything and the cold never faded.  She sat beside him, tossing a few credits onto the bar, and was rewarded with a sea-brewed ale.  She drank about half before she finally turned to face him.

“Hey, Mando.”

He didn’t look at her.  Didn’t want to see the pity in her face.  He could hear it well enough in her voice.

“I knew I’d see you again,” he said quietly.  “Galaxy’s never as big as it seems.”

“No,” she said.  “I guess it isn’t.”

In the silence, water dripped, dripped, dripped behind the bar, a constant rhythm.

“I know it was you,” she said presently.  “The Imperial bases on Corux and Raethe.  Two cruisers downed, the troops dead long before the ships crashed.  Imps dead in the streets of a dozen backwaters.  And a lot of high-ranking officers found in pieces.”

“A lot of people hate the Empire,” he said.  He took a drink of his ale.  He hated the taste, and hated the burn more.

“Not a lot of people hate them like you do.”  Lightning-fast, she twitched aside the cloak hanging over his hip, revealing the Darksaber hanging like an anchor at his side.  He ignored her, covering it again with his cloak.  “Let’s just say you have a signature style these days.”

Din glanced at her out of the corner of his eye.  She looked different, hair a little shorter, upgraded armor, a new insignia on her shoulder.  And sympathy etched in every line of her face.  He looked away, shaken.

“So what?” he asked.  “Don’t tell me the New Republic has a problem with fewer Imps running around.”

“They don’t.  They’d probably give you a medal, if they knew who was behind it,” said Cara.  She finished her drink.  “I have a problem with it.”

He nearly snorted into his foul ale.  “Really.  You’re worried about the Imps.”

“I’m worried about you, Din Djarin.”

He froze.  She’d never used his name before.  Slowly, he turned to stare at her, fully aware that his naked face was on display.  “Stop.”

Cara flushed.  “I was on the ground at that Maelstrom-class cruiser.  I saw what you did to them.  It wasn’t…”  Her mouth twisted.  “Killing Imps doesn’t bother me.  You know that.  But that was… brutal.”

“Again,” he said defensively, “you’re worried about them?”

“About what it’s doing to you,” she said, her voice flat.  “Mandalorians… I thought you were known for noble kills --”

“I’m not a Mandalorian,” he spat.

She pounded a fist into the table, a sharp crack that left a mark on the flimsy surface.  “You’re torturing yourself about letting him go.  This isn’t you, Mando.  And I think a part of you knows it.”

The weight of the last several months loomed.  It pressed.  It shattered, a shield failing, a dam breaking.  He saw the Darksaber flaring, scorching, searing, amputating, saw his bare hands on the hilt, saw the bodies piled.  He remembered enjoying it in a way that felt sick, felt dirty, an insult to the Way of the Mandalore, but he’d already burned that bridge, hadn’t he?  Already bared his face to the child, to the Jedi, to all of them; already desecrated his beskar; already severed his clan of two into one, alone --

“I know,” he said hoarsely, ashamed.  “I know it’s wrong.  I -- I broke the Creed --”

She reached up slowly, rested her hand on his shoulder.  She waited, her eyes soft.  

He bowed his head, shaking.  “And I gave him up,” he whispered, burying his damp face in his hands.  “I lost my son.”

My son.

The truth he’d hid from so long flared white-hot, burning through him.  Denial had done nothing for him; all it had done was rob him of the chance to tell Grogu how much he loved him before it was too late.  It hadn’t saved him from this agony at all.  The pain roared, a howling void opening up within him, a darkness he could never hope to see through.

“I was his father,” he choked.  “What am I now?”

Cara’s hand was firm on his shoulder, steady, kind; but she had no answers for him.  In the end, the only sounds were his broken breathing and the drip, drip, drip behind the bar.

[nova-is-a-writer-now]

The way you said “I love you”

Summary: All the times you and Zuko said I love you to eachother, sometimes without even actually saying it.

A/N: I was feeling a little uninspired while trying to write pt.4 of Fools, so I decided to write something else in the mean time. I saw someone did this and I found it so adorable I decided to do it too. Sadly I only saved the original post and not the hc that was inspired in it, so if you know who came up with this pls @ them so I can credit them.

Side note, I had more ideas for some of the other prompts but didn’t want to make this excessively long, so maybeeee I’ll make another one of these but we’ll see.

original post

-IF YOU HAVE ANY REQUESTS DONT HESITATE TO ASK-

As a hello

It was late on the night the gaang had finally agreed to let Zuko join them. They hadn’t been specially trustful or accepting of him, but they let him join, and that was what mattered to Zuko, he’ll work his way up to everything else.

He couldn’t sleep, thoughts about everything that had happened and everything that would happen running around in his mind. The stars above him glimmered in wonderful harmony, the time of the year where the sun would be more forgiving at day and the nights would gain a growing coolness to them came around.

Lost in his head, Zuko was startled when he heard you take a sit next to him. You were the only one in the group who Zuko didn’t know that well. He’d only seen you a handful of times before that night and couldn’t really tell on what ground he stood with you.

You handed him a blanket with one hand while you held your own around your back and over your shoulders with the other. “Didn’t want you to freeze to death on your first night.” You explained when you saw the confused look of his face.

“I’m a fire bender, I don’t get cold.” He replied taking only a couple of seconds to mentally slap himself for being rude. This being a good guy thing was gonna take some practice.

“Oh” you said, the realization of his words hitting you, feeling a little dumb for not thinking about it before.

“But thanks...anyways” Zuko tried to redeem himself, hoping he didn’t make a bad impression on the one person who didn’t hate him already.

“Yeah, no problem.” Your eyes drifted up to the stars too. They were prettier tonight, maybe it was because of how peaceful things felt for once. A deep sigh forced you to turn your attention back to the dark haired boy. “Are you ok?” You asked him, hoping he wouldn’t feel like you’re intruding.

“Yeah, just...worried. Katara still hates me, Sokka doesn’t trust me and Aang only keeps me around because he needs me. I’m not complaining, I just... don’t know how to show them I’ve changed.”

“I’m sure Katara is gonna come around eventually, she has too much of a big heart to stay mad at anyone for too long. Aang is the one that convinced everyone to let you join, so I think he does like you, and Sokka is...well, Sokka, I wouldn’t worry about it” you reassured him.

Zuko gave your words a thought. You were right, but things were still complicated. He looked at you and asked. “Why are you being so nice to me?”

You looked away from his gaze, his golden eyes were a bit intimidating if you were honest. “I...don’t know. I guess I just believe you when you say you’ve changed. I see good in you... I always have, even when we were running away from you. All of us have done things in the past we aren’t too proud of, some of them may be worse than others, but we’re all here now, and we’re all trying to do the right thing. I think that on its own makes you worthy of a second chance.”

Your words shocked Zuko. No one besides his uncle had been that kind to him in a long time. He felt hope inside, if someone as kind and good as you could forgive him, think that he could be redeemed, then he hoped everyone else would too. “I...thank you. I promise I won’t disappoint you... any of you.”

“You and I can start on a blank slate, as a matter of fact” you extended your hand to him. “Hi, I’m Y/N, very nice to meet you.”

Zuko chuckled very lightly at the weird way you had decided to show how it was a new beginning for the both of you, but played along. “I’m Zuko, it’s very nice to meet you too.”

When the broken glass litters the floor

It was your first day on the Ember Island’s house. Katara and you had been cooking with the groceries Sokka and Suki brought from the market. You two weren’t experts but you had gotten so much better by then. Katara decided to go outside with a basket of cabbages to feed Appa and told you to stay and check on the food so it wouldn’t burn.

No more than a few minutes passed before you heard Zuko coming inside from where he had been training with Aang. He took his shirt off at some point during the training, leaving his naked and muscular torso was exposed.

You tried your best not to stare but you couldn’t help the blush that took over your face when you looked up to his eyes and found him staring right back. His cheeks were blushed as well and you decided for your own sake to assume it was from the physical activity.

“Hey...um, do you mind pouring me a glass of water, please?” He asked softly, his voice a tad raspier from him being out of breath.

“Yeah sure.” You managed to say.

When you turned around to get a glass for him your arm bumped into a glass vase that was incredibly bad placed, throwing it off from where it had been resting. One of your feet was already lifted when the vase crashe onto the floor and into a million pieces, which made you nearly lose your balance and step right on the fragments. In a fraction of a second you felt Zuko’s hand grabbing your wrist and pulling you back, which made you very strongly land on his chest. His other hand instantly moved to the small of your back, as if he was scared you would fall without his support. 

His eyes met yours as you raised your head to look at him, your faces closer than they’d ever been before. Both of you held your breath for a few seconds before you broke the silence. “thank you.” You muttered softly not wanting to move a single muscle.

“You’re welcome” Zuko replied in the same tone, softening the grip on your wrist.

The moment would’ve lasted way longer had Katara not stormed into the kitchen after hearing the sound of breaking glass.

“I left you in the kitchen alone for ONE SECOND!”

Not said to me

Zuko had clearly been avoiding you the past couple of days. Was it the war that was starting to gain weight inside his head? Was it how close you two had started to get all of the sudden? Was it something you did? You didn’t know for sure, but you knew you didn’t like the feeling of it, at all.

He told everyone one morning he wasn’t feeling great, so he would stay inside instead of spending the day at the beach like the rest of you had planned. This was your chance to get him alone and try to talk.

You decided to make him a special tea recipe you’d picked up from Iroh at some point, he said it was a miracle when it came to curing illness. When you tried it you were surprised from how good it ended up tasting. You poured it into a teapot and grabbed a couple of cups, proceeding to take them upstairs where Zuko’s room was.

You were about to walk right in when you heard Sokka voice coming from inside, realizing the door was only half open.

“You can’t do nothing, dude. What kind of dumb ass plan is that?” He said whisper-screaming.

“I’m not telling her.” Zuko replied in a voice so low you almost couldn’t hear him.

“Why not? She clearly likes you back, you know that, I know that, and everyone else does too. The two of you are the only ones who keep acting like it isn’t obvious.”

You wonder who they could possibly be talking about, a small pit of jealousy forming inside of you.

“You don’t know that for sure, and I’m not losing Y/N’s friendship just cause I was dumb enough to crush on her. Trying to get over it is better than getting rejected and ruining everything, I like her too much to do that.” as soon as you heard your name your heart stopped.

Zuko... liked you. He liked you and was scared you didn’t like him back. How could he ever think that? Sometimes you felt like you were too obvious about it, but it was hard not to. It was his golden eyes, probably the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen, how they looked like growing flames when the sun hit them, the little dark spots around the rim of his irises, how they looked at you intensely like if when you talked everything else faded. It was the way he would throw his head back when he laughed, but only when you made him laugh really hard, how his face glowed with a youthful tint, like he was a normal teenager even though you were in the middle of a war, and how when he stopped laughing he had to take a deep breath before letting the laugh die down. It was the way he talked about his mom with such love and adoration, or how he talked about the future with a little bit of fear but mostly hope. It was the way he was always ready to run to you if you needed him to, making sure you were ok, protecting you. It was him, all of him, it had always been him.

You were shocked at the words you just heard but glad you’d heard them. Before either of them walked out and found you there, you walked back downstairs as quietly as you could, praying they wouldn’t hear the creaks of the stairs. Once you were back at the kitchen you decided to wait for Sokka to come down, he had to eventually, and you hoped he would leave Zuko alone when he did. It didn’t take him much longer to do so, to your relief coming down the stairs alone. He looked at you and smiled.

“Hey, Y/N. Watcha doing?”

“Making tea for Zuko, is he feeling any better?”

“Oh, no. He’s terrible, the poor thing. You should definitely go check on him.” He tried to say this without smiling so you would take him seriously but the corners of his mouth were already starting to curve up.

“Will do, thanks Sokka.” On the surface, you were thanking him for the information he was giving you, but deep down you were also thanking him for being the reason why you found out Zuko also liked you.

You walked back upstairs, not even thinking of bringing the tea up with you. You took in a deep breath before opening the door, and you when you did, you saw him laying there, eyes closed at first but opened quickly when he heard you come in.

“Y/N... hi.” He said sitting up.

“Hey, wanted to check up on you, Sokka said you were feeling terrible.” You told him knowing he would kill Sokka afterwards for sabotaging him.

“I’m not feeling terrible, I’m much better actually, but thanks for coming to check on me.” You took a sit on his bed, close enough to be able to do what you were planning your next move to be.

“I’m glad. We need you up and in your best shape right now.” You waited a few seconds trying to gather all the bravery you had inside before saying. “Zuko?”

“Yes?”

You didn’t warn him before closing the space that separated the two of you, one of your hands went up to cup his cheek while your lips pressed softly against his. You could tell he was shocked by how his body stiffened under your touch, your lips moved softly and slowly trying to figure out wether he wanted to kiss you or not. You were about to pull away when he started kissing you back. His own hand sliding up to your neck, holding you firmly while his lips devoured yours, like he had been waiting for this moment for way too long. When the two of you finally pulled apart to fill in your lungs again, your eyes connected with his, there was a new kind of light in them. A smile took over his lips when his eyes drifted back down to your lips.

“Were you eavesdropping when I was talking to Sokka?” He asked softly and teasingly.

“What in the world would make you think that?”

Over and over again, till it’s nothing but a senseless babble

You were under the covers in Zuko’s bed. Your eyes deeply staring into his, your fingers running up and down his jaw, sometimes getting distracted and playing with his hair. The moonlight leaked through the window and the only sounds that could be heard were the ones of trees swaying with the wind.

Zuko looked at you intensely and profoundly. He was sure you were a dream sometimes, something so perfect couldn’t be real, so he touched you to make sure you were actually there, and he held you gently but firmly to make sure that even if you were a dream, he wouldn’t lose you.

“We should sleep” you muttered in a whisper

“We should” he replied his lids already looking a little heavy.

“Good night, Zuko.” You planted a little short peck on his lips before starting to turn around.

“Good night, Y/N” he replied getting comfortable. “I love you.”

Your heart stopped at this words, a warm feeling started to crawl up your body and your eyes that were already closed opened abruptly.

You turned back around to find him staring at the ceiling, eyes wide open while holding his breath. “What did you just say?” You asked him.

“I-... I’m sorry it just...slipped.” He explained.

You knew he could be a little insecure sometimes, always thought he was unlovable so you had to constantly make sure he knew how much you liked him. This was one of those occasions. You crashed your lips against his roughly, pulling him so he would be on top of you. This kiss was a declaration, a promise and a revelation all at the same time, your lips moved hungrily and passionately trying to show him how much you loved him back.

Once you separated you looked at him sweetly and said “Say it again.”

“I love you.” Zuko was more sure of himself this time, a warm smile took over his face.

“Again, please.”

“I love you.”

“One more time.”

He took your face into your hands and kissed your forehead first. “I love you” then he went to your right cheek “I love you” and to the left “I love you” and to your nose “I love you” and finally took in a deep breath before looking to your lips “Y/N Y/L/N you have no idea how much I fucking love you” he kissed you again.

Maybe you couldn’t understand how much love he felt for you, how it burned inside of him like a wild fire, how when you were with him all his worries faded and the rest of the world was put on pause, maybe you’d never even grasp the way you were his first thought in the morning and his last at night, but he could try showing all of it to you with a kiss.

You pulled away to look at him one last time and said “I love you more, I will always love you more.”

[pastelsandpining]

Mend

Previous

Summary: Link reflects on the time he’s spent with Zelda now that everything is over. Final piece of the series, though they can all be read seperately.

Words: 1457

Warning: nothing I can think of, so read with caution

Masterlist

~~~~

There weren’t enough words to describe the Princess of Hyrule. She was as golden and divine as the light she appeared in, and she was as warm and solid as he’d always imagined her to be. When he could hold her again, it was all he could do to not hurt her. But her arms squeezed him tight and his trembling fingers tangled in her hair and he tried to hold her closer, to take in every bit of her that he could. She wasn’t a figment of his imagination, or a fragment of a memory from a life long ago. She was real, and how he missed her so much that it ached. She was warmer than the sun, and her voice was melodic and lovely and close, and her eyes were so vibrant and lively, and she was absolutely golden. She was here, in his arms underneath the sky breaking into dawn, and he never wanted to get up again. She was familiar. She was home.  

Zelda.

He offered all he could to her. He offered his house to her, he offered his company when she asked him in an uncertain voice to not leave her alone in the night, and he offered his unspoken vow to be by her side for the rest of his life--because he knew what it was like to live without her, and he didn’t think he could do it again. 

It was hard to describe how it felt to know her again, but the world seemed brighter, and the wind was gentler, and he didn’t feel as lost or confused as he did before. It was a nice feeling. He was sure he hadn’t felt this way in a very long time. 

The feeling did not fade. It only grew with every moment he spent by her side. And even now, just watching her dance in the firelight with Riju and Kass and the Rito children, he felt at an absolute peace. There were still things missing of course—bits and pieces of their past, but they were navigating that together. 

Together, which is what he’d wanted for so long that it crossed the span of lifetimes. He was certain of it.

“She is divine,” spoke a voice from beside him. “I remember her being ever so kind. She has not changed at all. It is good to have her back.”

Link turned his head to Sidon, at last taking his eyes off of Zelda, and he offered a slight smile.

“It is,” he agreed, though having her back was so much more than simply ‘good’. Having her back felt as if a piece of life had returned, and a drop of sun had kissed his skin, and everything had been so very worth it.

“I’ve never seen you happier, my friend.” Sidon reached out a hand and patted him twice on the shoulder. “Save for when you’re eating, of course.”

Link shook his head, but a bigger smile graced his lips anyway. 

“There’s reason to be happy,” he explained, leaning back on his hands. “She can rest now. We all can.”

“I can think of no one who deserves it more.”

No, no one deserved it more than her. She would never agree, of course. She’d insist Hyrule wouldn’t have needed saving should she have woken her power sooner, but he would forever say otherwise. 

“She’s happy too,” Link spoke again, “I think.”

“Can you not tell?” Sidon asked. Link tilted his head, watching the way her hair floated around her as she twirled, kicking up sand in the process. Her shoulders and back were tinted red from the sun, or maybe it was just the firelight dancing with her. Perhaps it was both, making her look as warm as the smile on her face. The Deku Tree had not lied about her smile, though oftentimes he thought it surpassed the sun. 

“Sometimes,” he admitted. “It’s a hard thing to be. Happy, I mean. Sometimes we’re not. Sometimes she wakes up screaming, or we’re hurting, or I’m.. trying too hard to be someone I’m not. But we’re growing, I think, and when she’s happy, she’s radiant.” 

“I know it isn’t easy, but for all it’s worth, I think you’re doing an incredible job.” Sidon nudged his shoulder with a grin. “You’re taking care of each other. That’s special.”

“She’s special.” As if she’d heard them, Zelda turned to face them with a bright smile and gestured for him to join her. Because she was so far away, Link admitted quietly, “I adore her.”

“Then shall we join her in the festivities?” Sidon asked, standing with a hand held out to him. “I fear Kass’s dear children won’t make it much longer.”

No, but their sleepiness didn’t keep them off of their feet for long. It really shouldn’t have been funny, but Link almost laughed at the stumbling children anyway as he took Sidon’s hand and was hauled to his feet. 

Immediately, Zelda was at his side. He took her hands and let her pull him into a dance, though he found it was more of just spinning in a circle. Still, he pulled her closer by the hands and let her laughter fill his heart until he thought it would burst. 

“You’ve grown out of the two left feet,” she teased.

“Cut me some slack,” he replied with a smile of his own. “I haven’t danced in a hundred years.”

“I was complimenting you,” she said with a roll of her eyes, “but if that’s how you want to be..”

She turned to walk away, but Link pulled her back by her hand. Zelda stumbled back into his chest with a laugh and he wrapped his arms around her waist, keeping her back against him. 

“I accept the compliment,” he muttered, though he didn’t think she heard it over the music. But he was right, her skin was warm. 

“Come on, Kass has to put his kids to sleep,” she said, taking his hands and untangling herself. “Let’s take a walk.” Though part of him was sure she wanted an excuse to go back in the water. He was right, of course--she walked with her feet in the lapping water on the shore. He noticed that she loved to feel the world around her, every drop of water or blade of grass or breath of wind. It was a different experience now, she’d told him.

Zelda would never hear suggestions about what she should do now or where she should go. She had her heart set on restoring her kingdom, and he loved her for that. But there was something about the wild that made her so beautiful. She’d never give it up, so he would accompany her wherever she went just to see her smile.

“We could stay here,” he offered as a joke, squeezing her hand. “In Lurelin.”

“Vacations don’t last forever,” she replied. “But it sounds wonderful.”

“Where to next?” he asked, swinging their arms between them. 

“Wherever you want to go. It’s your pick.”

“What about a few days out in the wild?”

“Like scavengers?”

“Like scientists,” he corrected. Zelda’s smile gave off more light than the moon and he grinned right back, turning to face her entirely. “There’s always more to study.”

“I don’t appreciate you using my words against me,” she replied, slipping her free hand into his. “I feel as if that’s cheating.”

“You just don’t like when I’m right.”

“It’s a rare occurrence.”

But she only laughed at his pout. He couldn’t even feign anger at her for that. She made him break so easily. How he’d done it a century ago, he didn’t know, but he didn’t have to keep it together anymore. He’d let her know until the day he couldn’t just how happy she made him.

“What can I say? You glow in the wild,” he said simply, leaning his forehead against hers. 

“Bioluminescent?” she asked, a hint of fondness to her voice. “I’m not quite sure that’s possible.”

“And you say I can’t take a compliment,” he replied, rolling his eyes. 

“Well, you can’t.”

“Gods, you’re-”

“I’m what?”

She was fighting back a smile. He almost laughed, but he kept his composure and shook his head, replying, “You’re everything I dreamed you would be and more.”

“I think you take pleasure in killing me,” she said, hiding her face in his shoulder. Link only laughed and turned his head, pressing a kiss to her hair. 

Gods, how he adored her. She was so lively and wonderful and he’d never felt more complete. Every struggle, every bit of pain he’d felt was worth it because she was here with him. 

He would live a thousand lifetimes with her.

[literaryfic]

Chapters: 2/?
Fandom: 빈센조 | Vincenzo (TV)
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Relationships: Vincenzo Cassano | Park Joo Hyeong/Hong Cha Young
Characters: Hong Cha Young, Vincenzo Cassano | Park Joo Hyeong
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, vincenzo leaves, set five years after he left sk, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending


Summary: “She’d buried him next to the false hopes and broken promises he’d given her, growing her resentment and longing in the same garden as his missing corpse, taunting reminder of her failure to make him stay. Occasionally, she would revisit his empty tomb and greet his ghost, tormenting him with the same question over and over again; why?”

Chapter two is out! Read on ao3 or under the cut.

“Have you been well, Cha-young?”, the same deep voice she’d missed asks. The ghost that’s been haunting her came back in the flesh.

He hasn’t aged at all, his youthful face still handsome as ever. He’s not smiling per se, but she can tell he’s happy to see her. She gets up and walks away. This couldn’t possibly be happening.

He catches up to her after a few seconds.

“Cha-young-ah. Hong Cha-young. Talk to me.”, he urges her. Suddenly, she can’t control her anger anymore.

“Talk to you?”, she faces him. “You made it extremely clear five years ago that we had nothing to say to each other.”, she screams. His face is unreadable, years apart have made him a stranger. “And now what? You want me to talk to you? You disappeared on me out of nowhere and never looked back so don’t you dare ask anything of me, got it?”

Panting, the anger she thought gone felt just as hot as the day he left her.

“Fuck!”. She’s not done yet. How could he come back like nothing ever happened? He had given her shelter, just to make her homeless. He had made her believe in love and happy endings, built her a castle and set it on fire. She hated him, his stupid hair and his stupid face. “Why are you doing this to me now? I don’t get it. Why now?” She starts crying out of anger, out of frustration, out of exhaustion.

For years now Cha-young had spent all her energy trying to forget Vincenzo and what they could have been. She had fooled herself into thinking she was over him but even after all this time, even when she was this angry at him, all she wanted to do was to touch him. She felt like she’d been cursed by the Gods, condemned to have him in her sight, yet forever out of reach.

She’s shaking now, sobbing. Vincenzo slowly approaches her, his eyes full of anguish.

“Can I please hold you?”, he almost begs as a single tear runs down his cheek. She doesn’t remember a time where he’d sounded this desperate, and she nods, almost against her will.

He wraps his arms around her, her head falls on his chest. She takes a deep breath, filling her nose and lungs with his scent, the one she hasn’t been able to forget. Somehow, she’s crying even harder now and he starts stroking her hair. “I’m sorry,”, he whispers. “I’ve missed you so much.”

She can’t quite convince herself yet that this is not a dream, so she holds him tight, afraid that the ocean will swallow him and turn him into foam.

They stay in each other’s embrace for a while. It could be minutes or hours, Cha-young doesn’t really know. It seems that tonight, on this beach, her grasp on her reality is loosening. Dreams and ghosts come to her in waves, and she can’t help but wonder when the tide will recede.

In the beginning, she dreamt that he would stay with her. Cha-young thought herself strong enough to anchor Vincenzo, yet he had fled and renounced her. Then, she had dreamed of his return, punished to share the fate of a seamen’s wife awaiting her husband’s homecoming.

He had chosen to leave and, until now, had never bothered to come back, and so after a while she had declared him lost at sea. She’d buried him next to the false hopes and broken promises he’d given her, growing her resentment and longing in the same garden as his missing corpse, taunting reminder of her failure to make him stay. Occasionally, she would revisit his empty tomb and greet his ghost, tormenting him with the same question over and over again; why? The ghost stayed mum, mere fragment of a person who had once been alive.

Yet, here he was, the one she had lost at sea, standing in front her. There was no doubt that it was him, alive and well. She felt herself regain control over her emotions and stepped out of his arms.

“You owe me an explanation”, she demands, looking him in the eyes. He nods slowly, his face serious. He is about to speak when she cuts him off, “Not here.” Here, where dreams become reality and prayers were heard. “Take me to your room”.

And so he does. They walk back to the hotel in complete silence, the sea breeze clearing up her foggy mind. They go up to the very last floor and Cha-young almost laughs. Their rooms are exactly a floor apart.

When they get inside, Vincenzo invites her to sit on the couch while he settles for a nearby armchair. The suite is as big as an apartment and the view of the ocean is stunning. It suddenly dawns on Cha-young that he’d probably been living in luxury for the past 5 years, and why wouldn’t he when he was that rich, but the thought annoys her. As petty as it sounds, she had wanted him to be miserable, just as she had been.

“Why?”

The question that had been haunting her hangs in the air for a while, and at one point she thinks he might leave it unanswered.

“That time I ended up staying, I’d managed to take care of the situation in Italy, but it was temporary solution. I needed to come back to save our family from being killed off.” He explained, choosing each word carefully. She could tell he was nervous, his eyes scanning her face, looking for cues.

“That explains why you had to leave, but that’s not what I was asking, Joo-hyung-ah.”

He looks like she’d just slapped him across the face, and she might as well have. She had never called his Korean name in such a harsh tone before. No, this name had been reserved for their most intimate moments, when she made love to him and played with his hair afterwards, as he fell asleep in her arms, when he told her about the few memories he had with his mother, or described his life in Italy with his adoptive parents. It was the first she had used his name as a weapon, and he looked devastated. Good.

He takes a shaky breath and bites his lip, trying to hold back his tears. In that moment, he looks as old as the world and as weak as a child. Although it pains her to look at him like this, she shows no compassion. This man had destroyed her and she would hold him accountable.

“I left without telling you because I didn’t trust myself to go through with it.”, he finally manages to say after a while. “I had to leave but I just couldn’t bring myself to let you go.”

“You’re a coward, Mr. Cassano.”, she spits out his name, hoping the formality of it would hurt him too.

“I know.”

“Why did you have to leave me? I get that you needed to go back, but why did you have to leave me too?” Cha-young tries to stay as calm as possible, but it proves difficult when she keeps blurting out her most vulnerable thoughts. She feels defenceless against him, but it is the only way she’ll get the answers she needs.

“Turns out the situation was even worse than what Luca had told me, and I wasn’t sure any of us would get out of it alive. You didn’t deserve to have to wait for me indefinitely.”

“So dropping me out of the blue was the best solution you came up with? That’s the only thing the great Vincenzo Cassano, one of the best masterminds in the game, could think of?” Her words are met by silence. “Guess what, genius? I still waited years for you. How was I supposed to get closure when you just disappeared? Wouldn’t you, out of all people, know what it feels like to be abandoned?”

It was a low blow, she had to admit, but she was past that. She needed to bring him to his knees, she needed to shatter him, she needed to break his heart.

“The truth is, I thought—I thought I was freeing you. From me, from my sins.” He’s not looking at her anymore, head hanging down, tears falling onto the ground. She compels her heart to look away, just this once, to not care for him.

“And who do you think you are? Do I not get to decide for myself?”, she’s almost screaming again. Everything that was coming out of his mouth sounded ridiculous to her.

Of course, she had imagined this confrontation countless of times, coming up with all the possible reasons he would use to justify what he did, but none of them mattered. None of them were enough to appease her, to undo what had been done. Nothing would ever repair what he’d broken and they’d never be the same again.

“I have no excuse, tesoro.” She hears the plea in his voice.

“Don’t call me that.” He looks at her, visibly in pain.

It was bizarre, seeing him like that, so hesitant, so vulnerable, so scared.

She realises it at once; she’s witnessing his fear for the first time. She hadn’t been able to spot it at first but there it was. He’d allowed her to see his anger, his sadness, his unfiltered joy but he’d never been afraid in front of her. Vincenzo was scared to mess this up, scared to loose her again. She had to hold back a smile.

“Did you follow me here? Don’t lie to me.” She demands, reinvigorated by her newly found confidence.

“I’d never lie to you.” She rolls her eyes at that. “I landed in Seoul two days ago, but Mr. Nam told me you’d be spending the next few weeks here, so I hopped on the first flight I found. Meeting you here, tonight, was an accident. I didn’t know which hotel you were staying in.” He looks to his right, suitcase opened on the floor, near the bedroom’s entrance.

“Why are you here, Vincenzo?”, she’s trying not to let her emotions seep through her words, to remain distant. But he knows her well, and she can tell by the way his eyes suddenly look at hers that he hears it, the part of her that wants him to answer “For you, I’m here for you.”.

“To repent. I’m here to repent, Cha-young-ah.”. His words carry the same certainty they once did, his tone the one of a fearless man. Her heart threatens to leap out of her chest.

“Do I look like a fucking church to you?”, she forces out a laugh she hopes sounds bitter. Not letting him time to reply, she gets up from the couch, feeling dizzy. “Right, I’ve heard enough. Goodbye.”

She can’t tell if he calls her name or goes after her but she’s out the door before she knows it. She runs down the stairs, gets into her room and heads straight in the shower. The water’s freezing cold, but she finds comfort in not being able to feel the tears streaming down her face.

She tucks herself into bed, confused about whether she’d rather wake up from this nightmare or continue to live this dream.