#BROTHER i started weeping before the first note was even played

[themaybug]

things i wasn't prepared for when seeing Hadestown: Hermes putting a hand on Eurydice's shoulder before the first song had even started, looking Eurydice in the eye as if asking permission to tell her story again, and Eurydice smiling, yes, it's alright, it should be told again

[blueparadis]

❝ GHOST TOWN ❞ + GETO SUGURU ❪ playing ⌗4, ⌗5& ⌗6 ❫─── via radio line ❛ anatomy of emotions ❜〳 from this is what ____ feels like !

[ content & themes ] ::abo au + modern au, f!omega!reader,strangers to strangers sharing one-night-stand, unrequited feelings,abo marriage & courting rituals, hurt and angst, misunderstandings, smut, mcd. 10k word count.

[ synopsis ] :: Years after, you get a wedding invitation from one of your childhood friends; hoping to rekindle some old flames, you decide to attend the wedding yet the looming shadow of tragedies still followed you. But this time, there was someone who would lick your wounds. 

[ notes ] :: i started this wip around june and since then it has been full of battles for me. Feels good to finish the first part of this. I really hope that next year is kinder than this one. thought i would not be able to finish until the Feb'2024 but here we are, so enjoy and tell me how you liked it :)) & if you have made this far then, congratulations. Stay tuned for next part, dk when will i'll be able to start writing on it, but I do wanna write part two badly SO please don't jinx it. \\ REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED \\ tagging @onisae @orchid3a

This year again, there is spring; flowers are blooming on every branch of those lonely trees, the sun is smiling, and the chirping of the birds can be heard. People are soaking themselves in this nice weather, they are welcoming it as they should, walking hand in hand in the neon-pinned streets during evenings, leaving footprints on the sand, taking selfies, and making memories to remember for the years to come, as they should; as they hope it to be. Yes, Everything is so hopeful; everything is outrageously lustrous. But for Geto Suguru, it is not. For him, the earth had already stopped turning since the advent of last spring as if the cogs of the winter suddenly started to rot with rust and now it is just blocked; the winter never stopped weeping since then and the spring never came to soothe the mourning. Geto takes a glance at the clock in the room. Nanami is busy picking up the dresses and sorting them by the hierarchy as well as the theme of rituals of the marriage ceremony which is about to commence within an hour.

“C’mon, you can’t leave just like this. The ceremonies. . . the rituals. They’re going to start soon. You can’t just leave. We need you. You’re important.” Kento finally stopped fidgeting with the clothes when Geto bothered to glance at him through the mirror amused by his tone. It is not common for Nanami to lose his composure. He is always calm and collected and never loses his cool. But today is different. Today is his day. He is going to marry the love of his life, Miss Haibara. So, he is supposed to panic, isn't that right?

“I’ll be back before you know it,” Geto conceded, adjusting his hair to tie it up in a bun. Nanami’s mouth parts in a form of protest but he is slower than usual. Before Nanami could follow him, Geto was already out of the dressing room lost in the crowd.

"But where exactly are you going, Geto-san?" Yu Haibara asked blocking his way as he turned up through the back door.

"To meet a friend," Geto remarks in a low growl and leaves.

Seeing his dearest friend, Nanami frowns he quips, "That's okay. Worry not when I'm here,"  keeping his hand on Kento's shoulders as a sign of assurance.

"Shouldn't you be with your sister?" Nanami quipped with pinched eyebrows.

"Well, boys are not allowed there." Haibara saunters around the room and then settles on an armchair situated on the balcony. "Plus you look like could use some help."

“I just need a house tour,” Nanami claimed as he shuffled through his clothes again. His eyes peered and stilled at his soon-to-be brother-in-law. "do you know your way around here? I mean have you been in Geto-san's house before?"

"Oh! you can trust me on this one." Haibara chuckles nervously realizing how his dearest friend and soon-to-be brother-in-law asks for that one thing he can not help with. Nanami smiles. It is amusing how he is so worked up for his sister's wedding and is trying his best to keep it together rather than sabotaging it, unlike certain someone.

"Sure. Whatever you say, Pal." 

Geto hops onto his jeep staring at the crowd of the elderly people who came to give their blessings. He specifically went through the back door of the house to avoid any kind of attention, especially attention from those elderly people who would not hesitate to question his whereabouts. And that is exactly what he needs to avoid for now. Questions. Stupid questions. He had enough of his own on his plate that demanded answers. With all the waves of memories crashing at the shore of his mind he passed through those familiar streets of his hometown. It has been a year and a half since the incident yet it lays heavy on his mind, like a freshly dropped flower. He halted near the graveyard. The Sakura trees surrounding the graveyard are blushing. He walked into the cemetery, hearing cries and howls of agonies as he passed by some gravestones. There is something with these hospitals and cemeteries that always makes him uncomfortable. Of course, it is supposed to make anyone uncomfortable; death and loss are two sides of the same coin. You can not go at the expense of the other. He has always hated visiting his mom at the hospital when he was a kid. His mother was at the hospital not because she was sick but because she was expecting, but at such a tender age Suguru could barely understand the seriousness of it all. For, his mom left him and when she came back, she would be with his father and his baby brother. But they never came home, just like the spring. When he halted in front of a particular burial his cassette of vague childhood memories ceased to play.

The tombstone read:

SATORU GOJO.

7TH DEC 1989 - 27TH DECEMBER 2016.

“THE ONE AND ONLY.”

Geto tasted bile at the back of his throat. It has been a year and six months already. Still, he has not checked any of the things that Satoru left behind, not even talked to his mother and neither was at his funeral. This is the first time he is visiting Satoru’s grave. During their high school years, there was not a single instance when Geto looked at his right side and found it empty. Satoru was always there beside him, whether busy talking the on phone or busy picking on him or was just there. Now, Geto stands with no one by his side. After high school, they parted ways due to work. And one day, when he collected his phone from the icing centre on his way home after a long day of work, his phone had died with messages, voice missed calls and emails. All of them said one thing: 'Satoru Gojo is dead.'

-

Solitude is lethal. It is very addictive. It becomes a habit after one realizes how peaceful and calm it is. It is like when one does not want to deal with people anymore because they just drain energy in the end. But noin yn has grown bored in the bubble she has created around herself. Now all she wants is to burst the bubble without hurting anyone, not even herself. But on the other hand, if thinly did take a wild turn then what more could add to your irrevocable loss that would hurt you to the point of disintegration?

The cab halted with a huge jerk. Turning his head the driver bore an apologetic smile. After a few futile attempts, it was evident from his face that the cab broke, and that too in the middle of nowhere. Still, you hoped for him to fix it because it would be a hassle to carry all the luggage towards the venue. The place is morbid and dull. You travelled as far they could and Bingo!  There was a Jeep parked outside a cemetery but other than that there was not a single soul. You, the driver, and the broken cab. The Jeep suggested someone should be nearby but after walking a few steps toward the end of the long stretch of the cemetery, you did not see anyone. Running out of options, you checked the destination on Google Maps. It is almost okay. But with all the luggage it would take you half an hour and booking another cab or waiting for another supplementary ride seemed tiring. After ten hours of flight, you just longed for sleep. Without wasting further time on thinking you started to walk reluctantly. After almost ten minutes you heard the noise of a car, a Jeep. You waved in the hopes of getting a lift but he did not stop. He took the turning into a smaller road. With his sunglasses on you could not tell if ly saw you or not. It is hard to miss a person on an empty road but you're experienced to be different. His lips were moving, so he might be busy talking and seemed to be in a hurry or a rich jerk who was perhaps humming ignoring a damsel in distress.

When you reached the venue you noticed the same red jeep parked in the backyard. The numbers are the same. Realizing the guy is also a guest in this marriage ceremony made you scrunch up your nose. Of course, what did you expect? Wherever you go, trouble follows. The preparations were still going on. You stood at one corner scanning through the crowd hoping to see your friends. A staff was distributing banners and some guests were getting ready for photos. He handed one to you. The place was crawling with alphas and omegas. Even Betas. You still could not see any familiar faces and certainly, it made you restless. You turned on your heel to ask one of the staff for help but something blocked your path. A man, tall and broad, radiating off an awful scent shamelessly; an alpha. You looked up, up and blinked once, twice and thrice. He is wearing a thin white shirt and black slacks, a typical staff uniform but he can not be just a staff here with a lavish red jeep and an aura full of arrogance. His buttons are unevenly done, plus, there are lipstick marks under his collarbones. This man who ignored you at the turning of the road extended his arms as if he were to carry you in bridal style.

“Excuse me,” you yelled, taken aback by his behaviour.

Geto Suguru who noticed you from afar, your restlessness scooted backwards. “And, then the girls say we, the men, don't listen to women.” Pointing towards the banner you held in your hand he pouted. It read — “PICK ME UP” Reading it you let out an awkward laugh. “Oh no! I was just standing here. And one of the guys handed this to me— Suguru closed the gap between you and him again, extended his hands in the pretence of scooping you again. “Hey. Listen to me. I — am — still — talking,” You stammered leaning away from him. Suguru smiled at you, amused at your reactions and the symphony of his laughter managed to reach your heart. He looked like the moon who was searching for the sea waves.

“Y/N.” Your ears perked up on that familiar high note. You would not forget that voice even if you wanted to. “Utaah!” you screamed merrily running towards your saviour. Utahime hugged you. Shoko, who was hiding behind Utahime, peered at you. Her eyebrows jumped twice in amusement. She has not changed a bit, the same unbothered eyes and lack of enthusiasm in her body.  “What took you so long?” The bride squealed, dragging Shoko in a group hug.

“Sho, are you okay?” you asked. She always used to run away from hugs. Guess, people do change in the company of others. Shoko managed to pull out her hand to give you a thumbs up with a smirk laced upon her face. She has not changed, not even a bit.

The bride, Miss Haibara immediately called a few staff to help you with the luggage and your room. She did not even have to say anything. All she did was to wave her hand and you knew you did not have to worry anymore. For a Beta, she is one of a kind. Everything is sorted now. You need not worry anymore except for one thing. That guy; managed to get on your nerves earlier and is now actively involved in the preparations, quite interactive with the groom. From their interactions, you could tell they had known each other for years.  Maybe since childhood. Things are not looking good from this angle.

-

The guests kept arriving till the evening. Generally, it would have been different if this was an actual wedding venue. But, a week ago the manager informed Nanami that they booked the wedding venue twice on the same date. There were some technical faults in the system due to which the software did not show that the date was already booked so, one of the parties had to cancel. Unfortunately, it was Nanami and Haibara's family. Surprisingly, one of Nanami’s friends owned this massively gorgeous house to do the deed without any hassle. But, they had to make some changes and now here you are, sitting by the pool going through your schedule as they fix the lights in your room. Five days. Within five days you should be hearing from the company you applied for the job. Locking the phone, taking a deep breath, and stretching your muscles you intended to go to your room, but a squared blue sachet caught your attention. It was near one of the feet of the table. ‘DUREX’ was written on it. A moment later you saw Geto coming outside and scanning the place. He strolled towards the table. You hid the condom under your notebook as he inspected the table. Not to seem suspicious and rude you asked, “Are you looking for something?”

“Yeah. A friend.” Geto responded with a reflex as he looked under the table.

“Uhm, under the table?” You exclaimed with a meek laughter, unable to hold it in anymore.

Geto stood near you tilting his head at you. He supported his weight by keeping one of his arms on the table and leaned towards you. “Where is it?” He asked, his voice deeper than usual.

“What was the name of your friend again? Doesn’t it start with ‘C’?”

He crouched down a bit, repeating his demand. “Give.it.back.” You could almost hear him growl.

“Didn’t you forget to say ‘please’ ?”

The crease on Geto’s forehead increased further. He stood with his hands resting on the back of his waist, his tongue swirling inside his mouth thinking if there would be any store open nearby. He would rather buy another one than say please but then again, he hates to keep the omega waiting. “Can I have it back?” He bit the corner of his bottom lip before finally caving in, “Please?”

“Good boy.” You chimed looking away from his piercing gaze, shifted the pages of your notebook so that he could take it. He snatched it in a flash and walked back towards the building.

“You’re welcome. Have fun” You yelled, making him pause. He probably rolled his eyes again but you could not have known that.

“Oh, I will.” He shouted back. “I definitely will,” Geto said under his breath, growling.

-

It was two o’clock and you have been staring at the ceiling for a while now. The network was down otherwise listening to music and going to sleep would be easy. Shoko and Utahime were probably sleeping like a log. Your friend and bride was perhaps awake but tomorrow is her day so she probably took a pill and went to sleep. You were barely ten when you met them, and the cogs of fate turned against you when you had to leave this town at the age of fifteen. But those ten years would be the most refreshing ones you had in this lifetime before the tragedy befell. With all those memories bubbling at the back of your mind, you could not sleep. Maybe a walk in the lawn might tire you out. With that in mind, you headed out of your room into the pool area. The adjacent grassy lawn was crowded with lights. They were flickering but as you walked past those lights, they stopped flickering. Those lights were not there before when you were drawing the designer dresses. There was also a glass of chocolate milkshake on the table. Without bubbles sedimenting on the skin of the glass suggested that it had already reached at room temperature.

“Not bad,” A voice turned up. As you turned around you were blessed with the sight of the man who managed to tick you off this morning. “Could have been more beautiful but yeah, that will do.” He added fixing his eyes on you and then gauging you that did earn him a glare as well as a questioning tilt of your brows. Geto understood the congestion of your confusion. You must be thinking how audacious of him to try to flirt with you just after having freshly fucked.  “Oh no. not you. I meant the lights,” he added. You did not budge.

He offered, “Chocolate milkshake?” holding the glass. Still no pinnable reaction. You walked towards him and stopped at an arm’s length saying, “I think you need it more.” eyeing him up and down, from his well-built shoulders to his torso and then, backwards. “For stamina,” you added. With that as you walked past him.

“Why don’t you check it by yourself?” he whispered but you could hear him anyway. You bit the inner flesh of your lip holding back the response at the tip of your tongue because you knew he is just testing the waters, caging you into a corner and assessing your reactions, your heightened senses, and everything. You would hate it if you purposely gave what he wanted, whatever he desired from you to get by ticking you off. You will be leaving this god-damn town in a few days, forever and the last thing you want is a random hook-up that could keep your hopes up. You clicked your tongue. Swearing under your breath you murmured, “I’m already bored anyways.”

The next morning when you woke up, Shoko was already in your room. She was sitting at the foot of your bed scrolling through her phone. “Morning butterfly.” With her stoic face, she kept herself busy on the phone while you rolled to a side soaking in the warmth of the blankets and half-asleep state. “It’s already 8:30. You’re late.” You sprung up on your bed like a cat with its mouth hanging open. Shoko smiled. “Oh dear! Do you still fall for this? You’re still such a baby.” Your heart was pounding against your chest, blood rushing through your veins vigorously as you were still sinking into reality.

“Shooo, I was having a nice dream,” You whined getting out of bed. After taking a shower and getting ready you accompanied her for breakfast. Utahime, Haibara, Nanami and his bride were already there. Someone was missing but given the circumstances of the last night if he did not show up at all during breakfast you would not be so surprised. Greeting everyone good morning you took a seat next to Utahime. Shoko sat beside you. This mansion, owned by that guy, looked so different during daylight. There were no people, no hubbub no prying eyes and most importantly, no questioning faces and company which seemed to be present in abundance at such occasions like this.

“Nice house.” You remarked with a smile looking at Nanami. You have only seen him in video calls, whenever your friend used to call you but now that you are seeing him in person you can feel how much he is every bit of the goodness she spoke of.

“It’s Geto’s.” He responded taking butter toast from the master plate.

“What’s his full name?” you asked drinking in the beauty of his house as you fidgeted with your plate.

“Suguru Geto.” a male voice emerged from your back.

“What?” You gasped. Suguru was standing behind you. His presence was so overwhelming. He was standing right behind you and you did not even feel it like other times, like those two encounters. So, he has control on his pheromones; he is not just some spoiled rich brat.

“My name. Suguru Geto” He repeated as he stood beside you for a second, locking his eyes with you, and then continued to walk away from you to take a seat opposite to you. You smiled to yourself as embarrassment seeped deep into your bones. Shoko cleared her throat giving you a knowing look. Suguru kept piling up food on his plate while you were almost done with your breakfast. Six slices of butter toast, two half-boiled eggs, and a bowl of chicken soup. When he looked for the salt, his eyes landed on yours which were on his plate.

“I have a big appetite this morning.” He uttered in low breath reading your thoughts. Your eyes immediately flashed at him, nose inflated as you grabbed a glass of juice shooting him a warm smile. You excused yourself as soon as you could. Any longer than this, and you would have to talk with him. You better flee before he tries to spin another web of his chram around you. Something tells you he is not good as he seems to be.

-

Nanami is dressed in hakama, wearing a face mask covering his eyes and nose, not the mouth. The bride has the same mask but of different color, color of her choice. He stares at the phtoframe laying on the bed side table. It has a picture of a woman, he knows her. Suguru enters his room, halts noticing Nanami fully dressed and staring at the phto.

"isn't this gojo-san's mother?" Nanami asks looking at Suguru who is busy adjusting his hand cufflings.

"Yes."

"Oh! these anklets, i remember these anklets." Nanami points out touching her feet in the picture. "Gojo-san had all of us begging to get him these from his mom and then finally he asked you." Nanami looks at Suguru posing a question, "don't you remember?"

"Yes. I do." Suguru answers gravely taking the photo from Nanami's hand and giving him a box. It contains a necklace which he is suppossed to give it to his bride, tonight.

Nanami's lips went flat, he knows he is stepping into a place where he should not yet he asks, "don't you know to whom Gojo-san gave those anklets?" Suguru keeps the photoframe inside the cupboard feezing in place. The door of the cupboard is still open and he has not turned around. He knows, if he does he has to face something he does not want to, his last meet with himself, his last words to him, a constant loop he often sees in his sleep.

"Let's go, everyone." Haibara yells filling the deadly silence. "The ceremony is about to begin." And then walks away shooting both of them a smile. Nanami clear his throat and checks himself for one last time in the mirror.

"Don't worry. You look just fine," Suguru exclaims with tight smile on his face. Nanami just shakes his head releasing an exhale and then, leaves. Suguru closes the cupboard and follows. The less he opens that particular cabinet, the better.

People have gathered here for this auspicious ceremony. Nanami and Miss Haibara will be tieing threads on each other's hands after removing the mask that they were supposed to wear throughout the whole ritual. Geto watches them as they slowly walk towards the centre of the venue, thinking was it all so necessary to do this? He even asked Haibara about it and he said how some traditional rituals are need to be done to be a part of the clan, and they themselves wanted to do it so the other family members are just showing their support by being present in the ceremony. The main modern wedding would be held two days later. Geto notices that you walk away holding a glass of chmapange as soon as the ceremony begins. You have been drinking for a while, he has noticed it. You went towards the exit, outside the house where there are no crowds, no eyes, no people and no questions.

Haibara leans towards Geto whispering, "Now, they're going to exchange traditional jewellery that has been passed down since generations."

Geto just gives him a nod and suddenly, Nanami's words echo at the back of his mind,"don't you know to whom Gojo-san gave those anklets?" He gulps, his vision becomes blur for a second and before it gets worse he stands up, smiling towards Haibara he excuses himself out of the ceremonial arena. He walks towards a less crowded place where nobody can see him, nobody will know about him and then he picks up a sweet alluring scent. He lets his eyes scan the place around,and then spots a woman dressed in red dress standing by the pavement.

"Hi" Suguru greets and his eyes go wide seeing you. He notices a whole wine bottle in your hand. Ahh!that's why. He must admit you have a very oddly sweet scent. But why are you here? Maybe you are waiting to meet someone, perhaps your lover, or your alpha otherwise why would you let your scent hit the air so freely. He can not help but think why you are alone, here, out in the cold.

"Oh! hi" You greet.

"waiting for someone?"

"what?" You say and then pick up on his cue. "No, no. Just having some fresh air,"

"Do you mind?" He asks letting his eyes scrutinize your body from head to toe extending his hand to his collar, freeing the button.

"what?" You yell."absolutely not. what're you even thinking?" Suguru scoffs as you misunderstand his intentions, giving you the shawl to you. "This is ridiculous." You add and then turn on your heel to leave but a warm shawl wraps around your body. You look at him and find him inches away surprised that he picked up on the fact that you were cold; not only that, you were cold and drinking to keep yourself warm, even got your hormores worked up for that, but generally it is said that an alpha's presence soothes an omega but what exactly would you hope for when everything around you keeps dying?

"I don't know if it's the alcohol, but you don't seem that bad now." you mutter.

"Thanks?" Geto shoots you his heartwarming smile. "How drunk are you?"  He can smell the alcohol on you now.

"Can I kiss you?" 

"WOAH! A lot, okay." he exlaims with utmost amusement but then, notices that you are staring at him, and as you do your smile keeps stretching. 'okay. now YN is just teasing me'. You laughter finally breaks as you finish the rest of the champange.

"Are you really laughing at me Miss Y/N L/N?"

"umm-hmmm" you nod and glup before saying, "What're you gonna do about it?" Geto looks at you, studies you, thinks you really do not have any idea who exactly you are you messing with. He takes a few steps towards you taking the bottle from your hand.

"Nothing. do you want me to do something about it?" There is a pout on your face; your eyes are not at him anymore but a little downwards, on his hand upon the bottle he is holding.

"No,"

"but you're thinking about it," Geto presses further.

"nope." You shake your head in denial.

"so, you do not think about me?"

"nuh-huh"

Geto inclines a little, near your ear and whisperes, "but i have so many improper thoughts about you,YN." As he retreats he watches your eyes go wide, eyebrows stretch upwards and lips part. Geto could not control himself anymore. It was his turn to laugh seeing your face fall like that as if you have seen a ghost. "God. i can't belive you fell for it," You let him drink in the petty victory he just had and then carefully ask so that he does not mis-hear neither misunderstand.

"what did you mean when you said you had improper thoughts about me?"

"It was just a joke-he says and you take a step towards him. He backs away. As you take another step you notice him grabbing the bottle of the neck firmly and step away.

"So," you utter,"you think about me? Well, there is nothing wrong with that but," You pause and he waits for you to continue.

"What would you do if i said yes?" Geto asks unable to bear what were you about to say next and whatever that may be.

You smile and it ticks him off further. "How about i show you how improper are my thoughts about you?" He watches your smile fade instantly and then silence surrounds you both but not for long, "Its such a shame, that i can't show you 'cause i don't think you can . . ." He mouths the rest, "have sex with me."

Naturally you protest. Nobody likes losing at bed so Suguru grabs your hand and drags you to the nearest room in this mansion. It is a spare room perhaps, at least its clean and there is a bed.

"what're we doing here?" He asks pushing you onto the bed. You sit at the edge of the bed.

"you tell me," Your words slur a little. "you dragged me into this room." Your heart beats pick up the light-speed as he locks the door.

Geto chuckles at your half-drowsy state saying, "If you are so hesitant to say the word, will you even do it right ?" He stands at the edge of the bed, tucking your hair as you look at him . . . so blur with each blink . . . and so big

"Why not? Why not I do it? I do it multiple times," Geto licks his lips holding back his smile.

"And what's that gonna be?" He puts emphasis on 'what' pulling away the shwal that covered the beauty of your off-shoulder dress. He gets on his knees to get a very view of your expressions, because you keep avoiding his eyes. It's adorable.

"Sl-sl-sleepex"

"What?" Geto's laughter echoes in the room. "You can't even say sex,"

You glare at him and wrap your arms around his nape. "sleepex" you repeat.

"Stop. you're making it sound cute,"

"Say that, i'm hot."

"i'm hot," Geto says with stren voice, serious look on his face watching you glow in laughter like a pearl in an oyaster. "Y/N, are you sure you wanna do this?" He carefully lays you on the bed with one of his toned muscular arms wrapping around your waist while your hands wrap his shoulders.

"Of course i'm. i'm not doing this because i dont have to prove anything to anyone. I'm doing this for myself. I'm strong enough to do this," You move your eyes towards him, continuing "it's supposed to get better, right? but when? when does that happen? and when it happens please tell them. will you tell them?"

"umm-hmm" Geto just hums.

"Yes, please tell them." You murmur, your chest heavs and then as you exhale exhaustion lulls you into sleep.

"Y/N?"

The next morning as you wake, a terrible weight attracts your head back to pillow.

"Morning babe," A deep voice jerks you awake. Geto Suguru, half-naked, standing near the bed holding a glass of maybe a hangover cure

"what're you doing in my room?" you tartly ask. "and why aren't you dressed?"

"well, i wish i could only if you give me back my haori,"

"what exactly happend last night?"

"don't you remember?" Geto sits at the edge of the bed, his hand chinning you up. "I have never heard my name in so many acoustics," Your eyes go wide and just when you are about to say something Geto puts a finger against your lips, but does not touch them. "You were drunk, you fell asleep and i slept in the other room,"

"who changed my dress?" you ask doubting him unable get off this feeling of uneasiness.

"I did," Shoko answers entering the room. She pulls Geto's ear saying, "why did you tell her so soon? The fun was just getting started," Geto grabbed her hands and pulled her into the bed, and the jumping out of the bed. Before disappearing, he exclaims, "I'll tell why,what, where and everything if you tell me about how long you and Utahime have been fucking?"

"You stupid boy. Its called dating," she protests and jumps out of the bed following him leaving you alone with your thoughts. what the fuck just happened? moreover, uta and sho are fucking, dating? for how long?

Today there is no ceremony but a celebration for annoucning the wedding in different clans. Those who value and only prefer traditional wedding, they are here today. When you finally join the guests, you spot Geto swarmed by men you do not recognize. He looks a little disturbed, restless. You have not been able to talk to him since the failed prank night. Part of you is grateful for not taking advantage of you in your drunk state, while the other part is just curious to know what would he have done if you were not drunk. So, you cook up some courage and finally when he is alone you walk up to him to talk.

"Hi,"

"Hello"

"I just wanted to thank you for-"

"-for not taking advantage of your drunk state?" He finishes your line and then bites his bottom.

"Yeah. however, improperly you thought of having me," You add further.

He clicks his tongue,"about that," and then a chuckle follows.

"Getou-san," You call him pasuing his laughter, having his eyes on you, "I'm not drunk today,"

"Yeah? but we have a lot of -

"Perhaps you didn't hear it well,"

"I'm not drunk today," He repeats your words realizing the meaning behind it but then his eyes shift towards Miss Haibara who is currently speaking to Mahito. Mahito, that fucker, who invited him here?

"excuse me, i'll just be back in a minute," As he excuses himself you notice him talking to the bride for a while and then he dashes out of the arena. When you follow him, you find him standing against the pool side alone looking at the water.

"Geto-san?" you call but he does not answer. So, you touch his arm and he jerks it off instantly. "Relax, its just me," you say but when his eyes fell on you, it is so distant as if you are seeing him for the first time. He seems like a totally different person.

"Tsk," Geto clicks his tongue and then leaves without saying a word. You stood there for a while and then, quitely you joined your friends. Yeah, that is what you have been doing since day one, talking and chatting with friends, catching up with them. But they are all busy, Shoko and Utahime are together at a table, Haibara is talking and attending the guests, Mei-Mei busy getting some guy's attention. He must be someone rich. You are just all alone. Your eyes scan all the guests and then stills at a particular figure. A tall man with white hair, eye so as blue as the sky, wearing a wedding suit, the diamond shining on his ring finger and he shoots a smile at you. You start to walk towards him but something stop you, Shoko's hand. "Y/N you okay? you look as if you've seen a ghost," she is so blur right now. You close your eyes and then open looking at his direction; he is gone. It has been a while since Satoru has not visited you for a while. Even now, as you try to uproot him from your life he comes boucning back. When this is going to end? when will be over him? why did he had to leave anyways that day?

It is almost midnight. You are as usual at the pool side, but today you are here for a reason. The sky tonight is adorned with stars and among those million stars two of them would be your parents. You heard a set of footsteps knowing full well in your gut that who could it be. "can't sleep?" You registered his presence as he sat beside you but you did not bother to answer him right away. "I was looking for you," Suguru added; turning your head in his direction you smiled. He swore his heart just stopped for a second. Maybe you are angry or gonna yell at him or slap him or maybe do nothing at all, just ignore him which is the worst.

"In the middle of the night? what for?" You pause to inspect his expression for a moment. Suguru tries to say something. He still feels bad about how he walked away from you in the middle of the ceremony. He will get an earful from Kento and Yu tomorrow for abandoning the ceremony like that, but what unsettles him is the fact that he hurt you; he knows he did, and he can see it on your face even now. He has fucked omegas, even betas before and never before has he had to cross so many bumps. Perhaps, it is harder because you are connected to his friend's circle.

Suguru's eyes glanced downwards. He picks his nails before grabbing your hand to pull it upon his face, "I wanted to see you."

"I think I missed you." There is confusion lingering in his eyes as your palms remain fisted. You slowly let your fingers touch his skin pushing him to the point of closing his eyes. His head arches, and tilts before his lips peck your palms.

"I don't have your friend with me tonight." You say and it seems that he knew what exactly you meant. He does not answer just stares, longer than usual. Did he think that you'd let him fuck without protection?  It is such a shame that you think so; did Suguru want to see you just for the sex, just to keep the end of his bargain or whatever silly challenge you two had? He is now more confused than before; like are you angry at him or just upset? He stands up without letting go of your hand.

As he guides you to his room, you remember the previous failed attempts but his deep, commanding tone interrupts. "Don't worry. I have it with me." He lets you enter the room first, still holding your hand; placing a kiss on your cheek he makes you twirl once and lets go of you. He pushes the door with his foot without averting his eyes from you, leaning against it.

"What was that for?" You chuckle and ask. There is slow jazz music playing. You look around till you find the source, an old vinyl player.

"Wanna dance?" Suguru asks. "With me?" and all he gets as a response is a dip in between your eyebrows, a long hum and an upside curve of lips. He chuckles at your expressions and walks towards you.

"I don't know, can you?" you say as he tries to put his arm around your waist.

Another challenge. So amusing. You bite your lip as he leans towards you. There is a fair amount of space between you and him, still, you swayed back, just a little. "um. You wouldn't know unless you try," he said flattening his palm before you. You narrow your eyes on him, giving him a look full of scepticism but as you keep your hand in his he lets out a throaty chuckle.

"what's wrong?" you ask but that just expands his laughter.

He cleared his throat, and scratched his nose before saying, "Your hands are so small." You look at your hands and think how funny it is that he noticed it now even though he had a lot of chances to map his hand against yours. Your nostrils flair up in embarrassment with a slight tinge of anger making you pull away your palm and step backwards.

Suguru's instincts kick in. "Backing down from a challenge so soon, huh?" He asks holding tight on to your hand before pulling you into his body. He seems so firm against you. No wonder your small hands made him laugh. You wanted to say something but as you opened your mouth to speak, you realized how dry your throat is. Wetting your lips you guide his hand around your waist. As both of you start to dance, it seems that your body is practically glued against his. The feeling of skin against the skin with just the barrier of clothes in between, breaths hitting each other, and some wild thoughts running behind those eyes as they look into each other. His hand which you guided at your valley of waist has now travelled upwards enough to undo the zip. You think he is gonna unzip your dress but rather he lets you one slow twirl and then pulls you into his body again. He leans into your ear and you think he is finally going to kiss you. Maybe there is a 'no kiss on the lips' rule or he starts with a neck, or behind the ear but you hear his hoarse whisper, "Are you on suppressants?" You open your eyes, surprise takes control of your body. You blink, and you bite your bottom lip.

NO. "should I have been? I mean people don't generally use suppressants anymore. And, my heart cycle is not unruly but maybe I should have been. . . but who knew I'd sleep with an alpha...and your thoughts keep spiralling. Geto takes your silence as a 'YES' and takes this opportunity to grab your face and kiss your lips. The sweet scent of wine lulls your spiraling thoughts and you grab onto his wrists deepening the kiss. You whimper as he pushes his tongue. Okay, so he likes to take things fast. why did you think it otherwise again? He unzips your dress swiftly. Without finding the hook of your bra, he breaks the kiss, a little bashful about how ready you are: oozing with a desire to mate, not taking suppressants; he wonders if he will find a panty under your dress if he ran his fingers up along your inner thighs.

"Kiss me again," you demand and as both of you recollect breaths, you stand on your toes trying to kiss him but he moves his face away. Suguru licks his lips. You are going fast, and he does not want that. He wants this to be agonizingly slow, so slow that you have to beg him and when this is all over everything will be drilled in your mind. The rejection does not surprise you, nor hurt you but it does make you nervous. Maybe he is the type to fuck only after getting a blow job. Your hands are now upon his chest and his around your torso but when you try to push him away, you fail; he does not let you. What he does sure tingles your skin. He keeps up with your eager curious eyes, and his index and thumb pinch your half-aroused nipple. Just another whimper escaped from you before it became fully aroused. But your parting mouth, closed eyes as he touches you more, squeezes your boob harder threatens him to give you what you want and silence those needy whimpers but instead, he lets his instinct take over. Suguru kisses your neck, slowly, as his hand abuses your boob. Your body arches a little and he pushes his leg in between yours. The sucks start to get strong before his teeth come to play while his knee nudges your vagina. As your hands run through his long shoulder-length hair he presses his knee against your cunt and he feels your warm juices coating his slacks. He takes a break from bruising your neck anymore only to say, "Seriously? no pants either?" Just how desperate are you, yn?

"Ugh! I had no idea that we'd do this today after you-" You pause noticing a crease in his eyebrows and regret accumulates at the pit of your stomach.

"Yeah, about that. I just needed to cool off." He lets his nose nestle against your cheeks as he whispers, "Sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you." You let out a short-lived chuckle thinking how he thought it hurt you. It did, but not too much to lose your sleep over it so that Geto finds you sitting by the poolside at midnight.

"umm-hmmm," a quiet hum before his hands travel under the skirt of your dress. He cups your bare cunt before ruthlessly pushing his finger inside you. You grab his loose t-shirt as he starts to move his finger, slowly, in and out. The veil of pleasure slowly starts to encapsulate you making your legs weak. Unable to hold himself back, he starts to kiss you again because every time he does your nose and lips become a little red. You can not see them but he can; the parted lips, reddened nose and lips, and that panting face craving for more is just the other side of a full moon.

"wanna take this to bed?" he says pulling just a thread away from your lips. You just give him a nod. He cleans his middle finger by licking them, watching your face fall. "What?"

"never do that again," you exclaim with surprise as he drags you to his bed. There is an adjacent bedroom where Suguru generally brings his girls but not tonight, tonight is not just special but just different from his other one-night stands. He sits at the edge of the bed, pulling you into his lap effortlessly. It takes you with so much surprise that he has such strength in him.

"You think, we would do this again?"  he asks pulling your legs to one side.

"what? no"

"why 'no' why not 'oh yes' ?" and both of you share a laugh before he sternly commands. "put your hands around me, in."  And you do, you listen to him. You curl your arms around his shoulders and at the same time, feel two of his fingers push inside you. He does not make you wait much as he picks up the pace. Two fingers move up and down, rashly and your mind becomes mushy again. Suguru lets out a chuckle as your hand grabs onto his shirt. You let out a sharp moan, feeling his teeth on your nipple over your dress. He desperately sucks on to them over the cloth.

"wait, lemme just," and you push your dress down to your waist without any hesitation. Sure, Suguru likes bold girls but you are not just bold, you are a little unaware of the consequences of such bold, unfiltered coupling and that too without being on suppressants. Suguru takes his fingers out of your cunt and grabs your boob which has been neglected till now. While his mouth sucks the other, his palm starts to massage. Part of him thinks, maybe you are entering your heat cycle. Sometimes coupling with an alpha might commence an omega's heat cycle; the other part of him thinks that a feisty girl like you would be able to sense if one is entering into a heat cycle. Besides, it would be a hassle to have sex with an omega who is about to enter her heat cycle. Some people might love to do it, but not him. Some omegas become too demanding at this state and with the minimum time he has spent with you, it would be a gamble to predict how you would be in bed during the heat cycle. Suguru pulls away from sucking your tits and looks at you. You let his hair lose, carcasses through his wavy locks, skim through his hair and finally tug at his hair exposing his neck this time. He has you now seated cross-legged on his lap. He feels the strain in his sweatpants. All he wants to do is to have you all on fours and fuck you till he feels the high of it. But he lets you do what you are trying to do: following his patterns. Omegas generally do it, while being in the heat or the advent of it but you would not do it. You are not in your heat cycle, are you? As you kiss him, suck his skin and bite near his collar bones one of his hands supports you while the other aid to the strain in his pants but he fails at that deliberately because every time you buck your hips.

"Wait, stop. Lemme just make it easier for you." He barks and scoots backwards against the headboard. You get rid of your dress and discard it on the floor. Suguru's eyes travel up and down your body. Your body is not spotless, there are moles, stretch marks, and cuts and he leans forward to find out how it would feel against his lips and tongue you stop him. You run your hands from between his collarbone and his navel bottom. "Haha fair enough," he says and gets rid of his t-shirt. You take his cock out of his pants rubbing the foreskin, touching the tip before adjusting it to your entrance. Suguru grabs the condom from the drawer but sees you struggle to sit on his cock, the same question reverts in his mind. The answer to it could only be yes and at the same time, you would not realize the gravity of your state would be because this is the first time you are having sex with an alpha. So, carefully he chins up your face and asks, "Yn, is this your first time with an alpha?"

"Yes." Finally, you said something instead of nodding. He was starting to get worried. Wait. what? You said what? A yes? Oh, a thousand heaven fucks!

"Is that bad?" You ask seeing him glitching like that.

"Nope. Not at all," He quipped. He scratches his forehead in frustration with his thumb because he is sure he is responsible for your current state since you were sober and perfectly in your senses just a while ago; Fuck! he knew it was a bad idea to fuck you in his room and also not to let you take suppressants. He curls his arm around you immediately he lays you flat on his bed. "Alright! yn. Listen to me and Listen to me very carefully," He says and you smile like a baby, like that day when you were drunk. He hates this. Oh God! he hates this so much. "If you feel anything is gonna hurt you, just tell me. You get it?" He stares down at you as you watch him intently with your eyebrows congested. He pushes aside your hair and clusters them in his hand. "You understand. You nod." You give him a nod, saying, "Sure. Got it." You thanked the heavens for being able to respond properly. Not only this is your first time with an alpha, but also like the 'first time.' ever. Geto is gonna flip out if he finds out about that too. He grabs two pillows, one he places under your head and the other under your lower back. He captures all his hair and ties it in a bun. "Tell me if it hurts," he says before pushing the crown of his head inside your feminity. You grab the pillow in anticipation but slowly feel him pushing inside you, filling you and you release a full long breath as he starts to move in and out, slow and steady so it would ease your entrance. He hunches down, his nose grazing against your hot skin along your cheeks and he starts to pick up the pace a little."You okay, yn?"

"Yeah, I'm okay." You answer and feel an immediate strong push against your hips. Suguru grunts feeling you sheath him. "Suguru," you call his name softly, hesitantly.

"Am I hurting you,yn?" He asks with a worried tone.

"Uhmm. no. no. I think you didn't wear a condom," you exclaim showing the packet. And it strikes him that he could use your state to his advantage. Your senses are dull, you are vulnerable, needy and so very tempting. why should he resist you when he is barely holding back?

"Well, shouldn't you have told me before I put us inside you?" he exclaims menacingly watching the light in your eyes fade. "Don't worry I'll pull out." He scoops you into his lap starting to buck his hips against you. "I'm good at that,"  Well, of course you are, Mr.Cassanova; that worried you for a second, bringing back flashbacks that you ought to keep sealed, flashbacks that seemed memories of another person, flashbacks that are like yellow snow.

"you can get louder, can't you?" Geto rasps before he grabs your forearms, tightly as you bob up and down. You bite the inner flesh of your bottom lip tp hold off your smirk. Looking down for a bit, you notice that half of his cock is still not inside of you and, all you want is to milk him dry, fuck him till he passes out. You look at Suguru again, asking, "I can?" resting your hands over his shoulders testing his waters now. He just shoots you a cocky smile before putting his mouth against your skin. This time its so abrupt, so brutal that it makes your eyes go white, teeth abusing your lower lip and hands trying to push him away. Suguru feels your nails scratch his shoulders as he goes down taking your pebbled nipple into his mouth and sucking it so hard that it makes you release a welp followed by a shriek. "See. You can do a lot better" He says peering at you. The glisten in your eyes makes his heart thrum faster. "Ahh!fuck this," he growls before shifting his hands on your waist to provide more force to your thrusts. And after a few long and strong thrusts he leans against the headboard watching you pick up the pace. It just hits the right spot with so much precision that keeps you going. Watching you bounce, seeing every lavicious expression you make. . . he is so going to come back to this memory if he ever has to take care of himself. His watches you as he interlaces his fingers with yours. He can feel it, how close you are, the stronger your grip grows in between his hands, the slower your thrusts get pushing you closer to the high and then, as you recoil like a bow wetting his cock it becomes harder not to blow his load inside of you.  "Sorry," he mutters under his breath before freeing one of his interlaced hand from yours to hold you as he lays you flat on the bed again. You squirm, you writhe as he plunges deep inside you. You just came, and now feeling his cock move in and out, it aches your muscles yet you still grab onto his biceps, nails digging as he thrusts his hips. He is panting so hard, you could feel his breath hitting your face everytime he thrusts; without thinking you curl your free hand around his nape, pulling him into a kiss, sucking his lips and pushing your tongue while he keeps thrusting. But the moment you wrap your legs around his torso, he starts to get vocal and fidget. Pulling away from the kiss, he unwraps your legs and holds your calf muscles, gently and keeps up with his loud estatic pumps until he finally lets his head arch back, let go of your legs, pulling his cock out of you spreading his seed over your belly and bosom. Both of you stare at the ceiling as both of your breathing becomes even.

Suguru gets up from the bed and checks his watch. It is almost three in the morning. Yeah, he might just miss tomorrow which would have some grave consequences. "water?" he asks turning around finding you standing behind him. It startles him. You have cuurently taken hostage of his favorite shirt. It fits you perfectly, just a little oversized. You are still oozing with desires, he can sense it and he feels horribly guilty for doing this to you. At dawn, when you will be rested and fresh, it would all come back to you. He closes the gap in between you two, " drink some water," You hesitantly take it and finish the whole water bottle.

"i'm hungry. i should just go back to my room, freshen up and eat something." You murmur to yourself handing him the bottle. You feel estatic, lighter than usual, yet you feel each and every vein running under your skin is on fire.

"Nah! don't go, yn." Geto exclaims hugging you from the back, "This is my house, remember? you wouldn't know where to find food at this hour." He says placing a kiss on your forehead. He puts something on and tells you to freshen up before disappearing out of the room.

When he comes back, he finds you standing in front of the balcony all refreshed, dressed in a white short frock with frills. He has never taken care of someone when they are in heat. He keeps the tray full of food and stands beside you watching the stars. There is a shooting star sailing across the sky and you say, "when i was a child, i used to think that my mom and dad are gonna travel back to me, like that." A scoff and then you look at Geto. "Thanks for the food you say," before grabbing the tray full of food and sitting on divan that had an extension to use as a table. Before you start to eat, you say, "I've already drawn a bath for you. Go freshen up,"

"Yeah right."

"Oh!" you exclaim grabbing a grape, " and suguru. . ." you throw the grape to his direction and he catches with his mouth. "Aren't you forgetting something?" Geto keeps on chewing the grape knowing perfectly well what you were trying to say.

"No, I don't think so," he exclaims with a smile stretching up to his ears. is he blushing?

"cool then," you concentrate back on your food.

Standing under the shower Geto traces back his decisions. He should not have fucked you today or tried to keep you off suppressants. He never should have pursued you because now all he is filled with is nothing but the guilt of pushing you into heat. Wait, isn't that a good sign? He  to never fucked an omega without them being on pills, but now that he did it was only natural that it would turn out this way. He will just ask if he can help you with it or not when he gets out of the shower. Geto hears a sharp click and he starts to feel empty like one side of an hour glass. He quickly wraps a towel, and walks into his room but he does not spot you anywhere. You were just gone. Surely, he would see you at the breakfast but at least you could have said something before leaving or could have slept with him. He would have kept you warm, comfortable and sane rather than some pills. Why didn't you think of that? Well, whatever he could just ask you tomorrow that if he can help with 'it' since he is responsible for it; going to your room now would make him seem too desperate, he does not want that. He takes his phone to text you. should he? His eyes fall on the shirt that he made you wear on the prank night and picked up his phone.

[ you forgot your dress, ] and with that he went to sleep. Tomorrow he is gonna ask about how he was he. . . and one more thing.

A few minutes later, the phone awakes; a reply came : [ no. i didn't. at least check before you say that . . . or is it that you miss me already? ]

[koorinokujira]

Transformers thoughts that wouldn't leave me alone - Forgotten melodies of eld

I have a bit of a tendency to overthink my favorite media and make strange associations with other things, and Transformers is no different right now. Those robots are spinning in my head like leftover pasta in a microwave. Anyhow, last night I was thinking about Cybertronian music.

(Ramble incoming! Also I might get stuff wrong, I am still fairly new in the fandom, after all. So please, forgive my potential ignorance.)

Now, there usually isn't that much lore on it from what I've seen, which absolutely sucks and I need more. What I've also noticed is that there often seems to be more of a focus on the musical instruments (which I also definitely need more lore on), rather than vocals. And hoo boy do I have thoughts about that specificallly.

Cybertronians have voice boxes, right? And considering their mechanical anatomy, it's pretty safe to say that they can hold on for way longer than our vocal cords. After all, it's not like a computer or its speakers start breaking down after a few hours of music being played continuously. Of course, such a voice box would be more complex, and there are definitely some more unique ways for it to break or damage, but... I generally like to think they are pretty durable when they are used for speech or song. Which brings me to the concept which I decided to call "mechanical elves", or something to that effect.

Now, what does that even mean? It's simple; I was inspired by the portrayal of elven music in various fantasy media, like J. R. R. Tolkien's works. Songs that reach the deepest parts of your soul in an ancient, ellegant language, voices that sing heartwrenching ballads for hours on end about tragedies that happened millennia ago. And I thought... wouldn't that work for Cybertron? Or at least, Cybertron in its beginnings?

You have a race of giant, mechanical beings, many of which have lived for millions of years. And they do love their music, even if we often have no idea what it's like and get only snippets from their culture. You have people like Blaster, who is literally nicknamed "The Voice" in the IDW1 comics and uses his voice to inspire his fellow Autobots, among other things. Just their voice boxes alone have so much potential, and that just makes me feel stuff, honestly.

Why wouldn't they sing for incredible amounts of time without stopping, at least when the times weren't so complicated just yet?

Did the first Cybertronian who ever hummed a melody feel so much joy that he simply kept going and couldn't stop, before excitedly teaching others? When a friendship started to feel more than it already was, did the night start with a passionate serenade sung by a singular voice, which, as the hours went by, turned into a duet full of affectionate words to one another? When a Cybertronian died for the first time, did his brothers sing for his memory, and to survive the sorrow as they had no tears to weep?

Mechanical voices crying out in raw emotion to let the world know they're there, only for others to answer. Languages and dialects no longer spoken, beautifully haunting melodies long forgotten. And as the time went on, the world started to get more and more quiet, before the old compositions finally gave way to the new ones. Perhaps the Titans who yet live still remember a few notes or words once sung.

All that's left of the beginnings now is a requiem doubling as an ode to hope.

Its words?

"'Til all are one."

[saltandburnheathens]

"When the skin is thin, the heart shows through"

One & Two

Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, John Winchester. Pre-season 1 into season 1.

Summary:

Dean Winchester was a troubled kid no matter what they tried. He was hellbent on destroying himself but never quite teetering off the edge. Eventually, they find an answer they weren't expecting. But one they were far more equipped to deal with than run-of-the-mill bipolar.

But can they save Dean from The Algea before it's too late?

Warnings: BIG sads. Angst. Eventually drug use, alcohol abuse, graphic descriptions of suicide attempt(s) and mutilation of the self.

Notes: A re-write of a fic I wrote over two decades ago when I was twelve years old.

ALGEA were the personified spirits (daimones) of pain and suffering--body and mind--, grief, sorrow and distress. They were the bringers of weeping and tears

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶

From the moment Sam Winchester was born, Dean had been right by his side. He held onto the vague memory of their father leading him up to the glass and looking in at the abundance of newborns, a smile forming on his face as he saw the squirming body of his brother all wrapped in blue. 

Dean had been the model big brother from day one. He’d held his hands as he was wrapped tightly to their mother’s breast, lay on the floor next to him as he grabbed for toys, and insisted on holding him for a bottle or two. He’d been ready to play and share and read to him. Ready to save him. 

And, oh God, had he saved him.

He’d saved him from the burning wreck of their family home. From the bullies in the schoolyard. From the monsters lurking beyond motel room doors. Hell, he’d saved him from their father on more than one occasion.

But while he may have saved Sammy, he couldn’t save their Mother and the guilt burned at his heart. It grew and festered and was only ever allowed out in the form of a sleepless night or a new line on his skin. According to his father, big boys didn’t cry. Not even for their dead mothers and tragic beginnings. 

Eventually, it became apparent that he couldn’t save their father either. The man had practically enlisted them on a vendetta that took no prisoners. They were destined to travel the country with no home to call their own and wearing hammy-downs from thrift shops. The only men Dean had in his life were jaded or downtrodden hunters, and the only women appeared later in the form of well-endowed bar staff or high school crushes. 

“We ain’t got time for tears, boy.” John had warned on more than one occasion when he’d caught Dean crying himself to sleep, “Your mother wouldn’t want that.” 

And Dean believed him because he’d been four when she died. He had no idea what the woman would have wanted, only that she would have comforted him and held him tight like the baby that he’d been. Sometimes he still felt like that baby. Small and afraid and begging for his mother's love.

---- * ----

When Dean turned ten he was convinced that his silent prayers had been answered. Mary started appearing to him late at night when Sammy was asleep and John was on a hunt or passed out on the latest pull-out couch. She smelled like burnt flesh and vanilla spice, and at first glance, she was herself again, with her voice like music whispering words of comfort. He wanted to wrap his arms around her and let himself sob because deep down he knew that she didn’t care. She wouldn’t berate him for weeping or call him ‘a girl’ for showing emotion. 

But it wasn’t long until her visits became marred. Her words grew into insults ground out through clenched teeth and cracked lips. Dean lay still, wide-eyed and chest heaving as he struggled not to scream. It was the skin melting off her bones and the smell of burning flesh that became his undoing. Just as she wailed, her voice guttural and piercing, he allowed himself to scream. 

Their father jumped awake and appeared at the foot of the bed with a gun pointed in Dean’s direction. Sammy, once curled in against his side, had pulled a pillow into his arms and buried his face in it. When John realised that it was just his eldest son, shaking and babbling nonsense about Mary’s ghost, he pocketed the gun in the back of his pyjama pants and sat heavily on the bed. 

“It was just a nightmare.” 

“I swear to God it wasn’t. It was Mom. She was here.”

“Your mom was -” John hesitated, looking towards Sam, “cremated, Dean. Ghosts can’t get through if nothing’s holding them here. Understand? No body means no spirit.” 

“But -” 

John shushed him, a strong hand coming to grip Dean’s small shoulder. 

“Your Mom’s ghost ain’t here, boy. It can never be here.”

Dean bit his bottom lip, his throat burning with grief and eyes brimming with tears. Beside him, Sam lowered his defences and shuffled towards his side. A tiny arm came to wrap around Dean’s middle and he melted into it just as the levee broke. 

“Come on now,” John whispered, his voice low and coated in something akin to emotion; A rarity for the older Winchester. He rubbed at Dean’s arm like a man who wasn’t quite sure how to provide comfort, even to his own sons, “You’ve seen much worse things than a silly little nightmare. Remember those vamps in Dayton last month?” 

Dean nodded, his head resting on Sam’s. 

“They were some gnarly bastards. But you took the little one out without a second thought. Like a warrior. A nightmare ain’t got nothing on you.” 

And that’s how the conversation ended. John waited another thirty minutes before going back to the musty pull-out and leaving his two sons to late-night television. Sam curled up against Dean’s chest and went right back to sleep as if nothing had happened, while he lay awake, watching every minute tick by slowly and almost painfully. 

No matter where they went, Mary followed. She hovered over Dean’s shoulder, appeared by the corner of his bed and met him in doorways. Her body was in various stages of burns; sometimes nothing, and other times black and charred to the bone, skin hanging off and eyeballs popped by the heat. The smell lingered in his nostrils and the back of his throat for hours after her spirit disappeared.But despite the horror of the imagery and the stench of death, it was the feelings of grief and torment that buried him. They coiled around his chest and squeezed tighter and tighter until, sometimes, the only way to loosen them was a firm knock to the head, or a blade wedged into his skin.

[eleanor-bradstreet]

Through the Storm

Benedict Bridgerton, Anthony Bridgerton Ficlet <1k words Rated: G

Summary: Benedict's POV as Anthony rescues Kate.

Author's Notes: I played prompt roulette and got 'sad, Benedict, adrenaline'. This little canon idea popped into my head. The name and backstory of the valet Mr. Smith are the creation of @fayes-fics Enjoy 💙

Benedict lauded Mr. Smith’s efforts to keep him safely covered with an umbrella but he wasn’t going to wait for the poor doddering man to keep up. He needed to reach Danbury House as quickly as his feet would carry him there. He didn’t know what on earth was going on, but the details were unimportant when he was certain that his brother needed him. Even his hangover was already forgotten, the one born from the prior night’s pity drinking after his family’s embarrassing non-event of a ball followed by Eloise’s public shaming which had left her crying in her bedchamber and unwilling to speak to anyone, even him. He had stationed himself outside her locked door to ward off any reprimands from Anthony or their mother, but drank enough from his prized flask that he hadn’t realized he had drifted off until Smith was half-carrying him into his own room. As he attempted a meager breakfast the next morning, looking out at the dreary downpour with his head in a vice, his valet had skidded into the house to inform him that Anthony was seen carrying Miss Sharma unconscious into Danbury House. Somehow just when his family had thought they were rounding the corner out of scandal and back into happiness, everything seemed to be falling apart.

He was dripping by the time he barreled into Lady Danbury’s foyer, Smith scuttling in behind him. He turned to interrogate a footman but then heard Anthony’s voice barking upstairs.

“She’s still shivering!” 

That fearful timbre shot a jolt of adrenaline right down Benedict’s spine. It was the same voice that had cried for help from the lawn at Aubrey Hall, the one that had made him go numb with dread as he shepherded his siblings outside to witness a scene he somehow already knew would play out. Anthony never let his steely command slip unless something was terribly, terribly wrong. Blind to the footmen and maids who tried to guide or stop him, he bolted up the stairs toward the voice, toward the source of all commotion in the house.

Happily, the first person he saw as he entered the bedroom was Anthony, upright and seemingly unharmed. It was reassurance enough that he started to breathe again.

“What happened?” He turned to see Kate, soaked through and lying on the bed in a riding cloak, head lolling as a surgeon worked over her. “My valet saw you carry Miss Sharma inside. Is she alright?” As much as he hoped to blame a broken ankle or fainting spell for the state she was in, he knew in his gut something much more sinister had happened.

Anthony, haggard with no jacket and looking as if he had swum to the house, barely registered his appearance. 

“I do not know,” his brother’s voice was hollow as he shook his head. His eyes never left Kate, filled with a rare desperation and fear. That was when Benedict knew that Anthony must be his focus. The surgeons would tend to Miss Sharma but his brother was his responsibility. There was a reason Smith had called for him when he saw the Viscount in distress. The man had worked for each of them in turn and knew how the younger could calm the moods of the elder. 

Benedict clapped a steadying hand on Anthony’s shoulder. “Are you alright?”

Still his brother wouldn’t look at him. He looked instead at Kate’s mother and sister weeping in the corner of the room, at the surgeon’s bloodied fingers as he examined the back of her head. His jaw clenched in that way that signified he was barely maintaining composure.

“It’s my fault,” he rasped. “It is all my fault.” His voice wavered as his eyes continued to dart, taking in the scene of anguish, of mortal fear, one that they had both been a party to before. When his breath started to heave, Benedict knew his brother might slip beyond recall, might fall prey to one of his spells where he trembled and gasped like a man drowning on dry land.

“Anthony?” He tried to lock eyes with his brother, wrapping his arm tighter around his back so that he might guide his attention. “Anthony.” He felt his own desperation begin to swell as his calls fell on deaf ears. The Viscount’s chin quivered, his brows knitting as he surveyed the room one last time and then slipped out of his grasp and tore out the door with a grimace.

“Anthony!” Benedict moved after him but halted in the doorway, watching helplessly as his brother stalked down the hall. It was clear he didn’t want to be followed, clear he didn’t want help. As he had so many times before, he made the choice to contend with his demons in solitude, something Benedict would never deny him but something he feared Anthony was not as skilled at as he believed. Tight-lipped as Anthony was about the whole situation, it had become obvious to Benedict that he loved Kate, and the terror of seeing one you loved with their fate hanging in the balance was a burden he wanted to help shoulder. But he had been shut out. Ignored. His assistance rejected as it had been so many countless times that season. He had known it would be an eventful year when his brother committed to finding a wife but he had never expected the tempest of moods he had witnessed in Anthony, ones which Benedict was not permitted to navigate no matter how many times he tried. Nevertheless, he would stay. He would follow, steps behind his brother as he had always found himself in life, waiting. Waiting for the moment when Anthony needed him. Because while the Viscount watched over the rest of their family, he deserved someone to watch over him in return.

No tags for prompt roulette

[fortifice]

gep playlist explained.

safe and sound / taylor swift & the Civil Wars. thinking serval lullaby sort of vibes here. general war vibes is also very much gep coded in my brain bc fight fight war war.

would anyone care / citizen soldier. very much leaning onto the when you are strong for so long you are also suffering. people not seeing what he's enduring, how exhausting it is to push and push and the battle has no end in sight.

heavy is the crown / draughty. it's for this one verse specifically about soldiers for me, see those who are sent to war die like lambs sent to slaughter, the toy soldiers being the guard upon the preservations altar. there's a couple of other stray verses here which feel gep shaped to me. a shield always withstanding.

Army Dreamers / Kate Bush. there's alot of tiktok edits going around with this song rn and they're all regarding soldiers who die early and that's very guard shaped to me. the chorus is also showing what they could have been and what they won't be because they will die young, they will always die young.

Running up that hill / Kate Bush. again, emphasising the encouragement to not express how it feels, about how it does hurt, about how the deal they made is going to cost them their lives. and the if I only could make a deal with god to change their places being regarding those who have died and Gep could not save them.

hymn for the missing / red. this is very much grieving the lost, what it feels like to march on as a soldier when people you care about very dearly die and you see them die. the only place they meet again is in renditions of their death and life in dreams and it's just reaching for them but being unable to touch. you took it with you when you left being the bond and the happiness that others create in your life. scars referring to the ones that litter alot of gep's body from conflict.

little lion man / mumford and sons. the not as brave as you were at the start really does speak to the way Gepard was when he joined the Guard and was filled with zest for protecting and where he stands now, the weeping could be grieving. you know that you have seen this all before, death, death more death.

avalanche / bring me the horizon. Am I broken, what's the chance I will survive reflecting onto processing grief, what it means to exist beyond the death of comrades, what it feels to be broken for the first time. the square doesn't fit the circle is very much Gepard needing to fit the paragim that's been inherited by his name and how he's not the perfect fit. the whole chorus just really reflects on inner turmoil, I cannot think how to precisely articulate it but it's like, the shaking of his world to the core by death and fighting and anguish.

monster / epic the musical. this is very much self reflecting on the things he hasn't prevented, the supreme guardian's corruption, working in tandem with that and realising how much you stand for isn't what you thought it was. men dying, again.

ruthlessness / epic the musical. this is sort of a aha the vibes are there for me but it's also Gepard father reprimanding him for being weak willed when you listen to it in my brain atleast.

my goodbye / epic the musical. thinking conversation between Gep and his father, thinking about how not viewing others as assets and weapons leads to being soft, sentimental, that he did not teach him this way. Odysseus' s part in this is him talking back to him, telling how he's enduing every single death that occurs on the front lines, that his father is blind to that reality.

just a man / epic the musical. survivors guilt !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

remember them / epic the musical. this is very much the preservation of the will of those who perish on the battle field, even the way he sings it really slams that home to me. the fire they continue to stoke is the will they preserve and the way they push on is for the sake of their fall brothers.

playing his game / death note musical. i added this last night thinking about sampard LMAO i don't have an excuse this is just sheerly the vibe of understanding each other getting under each other's skin.

[smallraindrops-blog]

Wake Me From This Dreaming

Part 13.5

(Hypnos POV)

Word counts: 3.2

Hypnos x WMFTD!Y/N

Warnings: Trauma, abuse, kissing, cursing, implied intimacy, no beta. 

Notes: First off, I just want to say thank you to everyone who has been waiting for WMFTD. You are the most patient readers ever. This part is shorter but I hope you guys enjoy it. Will try to have the next part out sooner. 

The Masterlist

A star took a single trembling breath and Hypnos was born. 

His hand was already in his twin’s. Somehow he already knew their name. Thanatos. Brother.

A cool hand brushed his curls off his face and he looked up to his mom’s face, pale and cool but softened with a warm smile. Her golden eyes were brighter than the stars that surrounded them.

“Hello, little Hypnos.” She whispered.

That was what Hypnos remembered at the start of everything. 

~

The armband felt too heavy for him, too big for his small arm. The golden flowers -poppies, Hypnos reminded himself. His mom called them poppies.- gleamed in the candlelight. Thanatos grabbed his arm with a frown, his brow furrowed in concern.

“It's supposed to help.” Hypnos said with a nervous giggle. Lord Hades didn’t stop yelling for what seemed forever after Hypnos had accidentally put him to sleep. 

Again. 

He wasn’t aware that even his soft humming could do that. At least, the look Queen Persephone gave him made him stop yelling. The young goddess was the only one who could do that. 

“Okay.” Thanatos said quietly. There was a hint of doubt but he didn’t voice it.

Then he tilted his head, his hair falling into his eyes. “Mom- mother Nyx says that we are growing into our powers. She is going to take me to the surface soon. So I can see what mortals are like when they are alive.”

Hypnos blinked and his smile grew. “Do you think I can come?” 

Shades or mortals were so odd. Many looked like themselves, others were broken apart bodies or just void. He wondered if said something about the shades’ souls, who they were in life.

It amused Hypnos. Such odd beings. 

Charon didn't like them. His oldest brother would sigh, tipping his hat up with a finger in thought.

The weeping. He told them, it just never stops. 

Thanatos perked up, looking less nervous. 

He and Hypnos never knew what to do about the crying either but at least they could look at each other with faint confused smiles and a shrug before returning to playing or sleeping. 

Thanatos took Hypnos' hand, his palm clammy and not as small as it used be and tugged Hypnos along the long winding halls. It bugged Hypnos a little that his twin was getting taller and bigger than him. 

It only started once they came to the house. 

Hypnos still didn't know how he felt about the house. It felt too big and too small at the time. He missed the stars and cool darkness.

He wanted to return to it - but his mom-mother Nyx, he reminded himself. Hypnos was always having to remind himself of stuff now. And he didn't like it- had said this was their home now. 

His mom used to hold them close in her arms, her pale skin cool against his cheek. She hadn't since they came here. He missed it. 

Hypnos was leaning towards not liking the house. 

"My children." Mom said quietly, her hands clasped as she watched them approach. Her painted lips pursed as the sight of their hands together. 

It was Thanatos who asked. They both knew she was more giving toward him. There was a moment Hypnos thought she would say ‘yes’ then her eyes flicked to the band she placed on him. 

The golden poppies gleamed in the candlelight. 

“No. You’re both growing up and need to learn not to rely on each other.” Her voice was firm. Hypnos flitched, tightening his hand around Thanatos’.

“But mom-“ her golden eyes snapped toward him, hard and cold and nothing like his mom. Hypnos swallowed. “Mother Nyx.” He corrected himself quietly.

“My word is final.” Mother Nyx said, watching them. Judging them for these next moments. “I will not have needy and helpless children.”

Hypnos opened his mouth to disagree, hurt bubbling up but Thanatos yanked his hand away without any warning, leaving Hypnos’ small hand grasping air. He blinked down at his hand then watched Thanatos float away.  It was just a few paces but it felt like a gap formed unseeing but painfully, obviously there.

Hypnos made a small hurt sound. Thanatos didn’t look at him even as he flinched at the sound. 

“Hypnos.” 

He looked up at the sound of her low voice, tears burning in his eyes. 

“Learn from Thanatos’ example.”

Hypnos sniffed, unable to hide the tears spilling down his face. His cheeks burned as she sighed loudly. He wanted Thanatos’ hand in his, his mom’s arms around them. He didn’t want to be here. 

“Yes mom- Mother Nyx.” Hypnos whispered, looking across to Thanatos. Hoping for even a single glance. 

Thanatos still didn’t look at him.

~

Everything changed. Too fast for him to keep up, dizzy with the winding halls and silence.

Thanatos was gone all the time. Charon as well. 

His powers grew and grew but unlike his twin, he was learning to live with it, letting it become a part of him, not something to dominate. He thought it was rather funny, how he slept like mortals. Dreamed like mortals.

His mom’s mouth only tightened in disappointment, not even looking at him anymore. Hypnos told himself that it didn’t make his heart ache. 

Hypnos was alone. He told himself it was fine. 

And It was fine. 

Really.

~

Thanatos finally had returned home, freed of his chains and proud once more. The moral would only know pain now, never to see the skies or feel the breeze on their skin. A just and fair punishment as far as Hypnos cared.

But this wasn’t the Thanatos Hypnos knew. His brother was always the more quiet one, Hypnos was more than happy to fill in the silence but at least he used to smile. He used to be able look people in the eye. 

Thanatos wouldn’t even let their own mother touch him. 

The gap between them grew, grew, grew and grew. 

The only thing Hypnos was ever able to get out of him was a single response.

“What did those chains feel like?” Hypnos asked in a moment of weakness, his horrified curiosity winning over his mother’s warning. 

“Like fire.” Thanatos said after a long pause. “It was so cold, it burned.” 

~

There was a beat of silence and Hypnos let out a slow breath, his eyes on the spear tip. It was a mortal weapon in the hands of a god yet it was him who trembled. 

Then a pair of hands, broad and calloused, very gently curled around his wrists. You stood in front of him, shifting his hands’ position. One of your hands slides along his wrist to his elbow to adjust it, causing goosebumps on his skin.

Hypnos fought down a blush. And tried to think of something to say. Something clever.

“I guess it is a good thing I don’t actually want to fight, huh?” Hypnos jokes, his voice only cracking a little. You blinked at him, hand still on his elbow. You kept there, seemingly obvious to it or its effects on Hypnos.  

“If you don’t want to, then why are you training?” You asked. 

Hypnos swallowed nervously but you didn’t sound upset, like Hypnos had been wasting your time. Thanatos would have sharp words if Hypnos did this to him, ending with a long painful talk with their mother. You should have been upset with Hypnos yet he couldn’t put a name to what your tone was. 

Your hand still lingered and when you stood this close, it made his belly flip flopped. Hypnos shrugged, glancing away from you, his cheeks still flushed. 

“I- I think I just want to understand what it's like. I’m more a lover than a fighter, you know?” Hypnos said finally, biting down on his bottom lip as he peeked back at you. 

“You’re getting better, you know that right?” You said simply. Like it was nothing. His whole body responded to the praise, perking up. You must realize your hands were still on him because you dropped your hold and stepped away. He tried not to mourn at the loss of contact, his body wanting to follow you.

“Besides, not everyone should be a fighter. It would make for a very obnoxious place.” You said with a nod. 

“Like Elysium?” Hypnos said mindlessly then he winced. He had just insulted you and every hero in the underworld. He needed to learn to control his mouth. He felt the faint ghost of his mom’s disappointment.

You gave him a surprise look then a very real and beautiful smile grew on your face, a flash of white teeth and eyes bright with amusement and Hypnos forgot how to breathe. His stomach dropped like he was falling from a great height.

“Just like Elysium.” You agreed with a low chuckle. Hypnos beamed, not even caring about how flushed his face was. He did that. He got you to smile again. He liked to think that you smiled like that only for him.  

“Now, try again.”

~

Nightmares didn’t scare Hypnos. Just as dreams were almost mindless creatures, so were nightmares. They were only a fractured reflection of the soul dreaming them.

Oily black shadows darted between his feet. If he had bothered to shine a light on them, he would be able to see the green and purple and red shades of their forms.

Another one brushed against his fingers, and he saw or rather he felt a hand pressing down on his mouth, sharp nails digging in his cheeks. Hypnos shook his head, his own hand rubbing his mouth in annoyance and the feeling disappeared.  

He debated if he should let the nightmare go . It belonged to one of the shades in construction but he supposed that wasn’t his choice. He watched the nightmare leave his realm with a heavy rolling guilt in his belly. 

Hypnos could be cruel in his own ignorance. It was something he was working on. He still hated that he joked about killing all mortals, especially now since there was one in his bed that he would give anything for. 

However just like death, nightmares had their place in the world. 

With that in mind, he turned to one of the lingering shadows, looking up at it with a frown. Ares’ face stared back at him. It wasn’t Ares, but the shadow did alright. It certainly got that horrible blood thirsty grin down, Hypnos thought with a frown. 

One of these days, he would explain it to his mortal and selfishly take comfort that you will understand. That you will forgive him for the times that weren't an accident. He always made a point of not looking into his family’ dreams or nightmares. An attempt to give them some privacy of their own thoughts. 

He wanted that for his mortal as well. But he just started to get you to go to sleep sometimes. However, every single time he did, you woke up from nightmares. Eyes wide and a faint trembling in those strong hands. 

Hypnos shooed it away and the shadow went back to the dark, bearing its teeth but it was already giving up the shape it chose. There was no real anger from the shadow, it would have its chance again and knew it. 

He couldn’t do this every time even if he wished otherwise, it wasn’t healthy for the mind. All had to rest, all needed to dream and all must face their nightmares. 

So just for now, he will send them away.  

Until you were strong enough. And if you ever need him again, Hypnos would be there to send the nightmares away. 

~

It took Hypnos a moment to realize that Megarea was coming over to him. Once it used to cause a nervous flutter in his chest but not anymore. The quirk of her full lips told him she had noticed. 

“Hypnos.” She greeted lightly, watching him sign her name in. He put a little smiley face by her name, mostly out of habit.  He wondered if she would be amused by it.

“Meg! Zagreus got lucky again, huh?” Hypnos replied with a beaming smile. “Man I remember when you used to send him packing with a single crack of that whip.” 

Meg rolled her eyes but she didn’t seem too upset. “Achilles trained him well. Your mortal did a fine job as well.”

The quill almost snapped in his finger and the smile froze on his face. He blinked at Meg, hating that he already could feel a flush forming on his cheeks. He laughed nervously. “My mortal? I-“

“Don’t.” Megarea warned gently. “I heard about him from Zagreus and Thanatos.”

“Oh.” Hypnos bit his thumbnail. It was one thing to him to call you that privately in his own mind; it was another to hear it outloud. Thanatos only called you ‘that mortal’ and Zagrues only used your name. Hypnos wondered sometimes if Zagreus forgot you and Achilles were shades. Hypnos did sometimes.

Then he spoke up, “Yes, I’ve seen some of their training. Makes me want to take a nap just watching them.” 

The joke worked, lightening the air between them. Meg smiled and Hypnos knew his past self would have been overjoyed to see it but now, it just felt like he made a friend happy and only that. It had nothing on your rare smiles. Or your low, warm laugh. Or how your hand would linger on him, like you didn’t want to let go. 

“I’m glad for you. You and him suit each other well.” Megarea said. And it sounded like she meant it. 

“Thank you.” Hypnos repiled, his shoulders relaxing. “I don’t think I told you but I am glad for you guys as well.” 

“Thank you. And I will talk to your brother. “ Meg glanced at where Nyx was, out of sight and hidden by her roses. “I know he hasn't been supportive.” 

Hypnos opened his mouth then closed it. He sighed and kept his voice low, not wanting others to overhear. “It’s fine. Really. I understand why.”

“So do I. But he is only hurting himself and you at this rate.” Megarea said quietly. 

“Have you told your mortal why he is this way?”

“Not really.” Hypnos lied. It should have been Thanatos’ story to tell, not Hypnos. “My mortal knows something obviously happened but he doesn’t have all the details.” 

Meg’s pink lips pursed but she let it go. Before leaving she did say, “I am happy for you, Hypnos.”

Hypnos could only offer her a beaming smile. 

~

“What is this?” Hypnos took the note from the messenger shade who only offered a shrug before they moved on. 

It was a single page. 

Hypnos, Lord of Sleep

Meet me outside the house’ doors, I need to speak to you. It is urgent. 

Y/N

Hypnos reread it, the dread he already had before you and his twin left grew even more in the pit of his stomach. The handwriting was neat. Too neat. And you never had ever used his title.

Your waiting was more thin, and the letters tended to merge together when you wrote quickly. Often you had to pause to crack your knuckles, muttering to yourself how tiny and useless the house quills were.

It was ridiculous how easily he could imagine you in his mind. How the way your fingers curled around the quill, how your mouth moved soundlessly when writing sometimes.

He read again. His title stuck out like a sore thumb. It was wrong. You would never write like this.

Under the dread, something else came forward, sharp and burning. Hypnos inhaled sharply, mouth thinning. He felt like he was choking on it. It was rare for him to feel pure rage. Even when you and him had that fight, anger was the last thing he felt.

Pyrrhus had caused enough pain. Hypnos never brought into the whole ‘mortals need to know their place’ thing but he will happily make an exception for Pyrrhus. Just like he did for Sisyphus 

“Fine.” Hypnos said quietly to himself. “So be it.” 

Pyrrhus wasn’t the first to underestimate Hypnos.

~

You placed the spear next to the bed, within reach.  Hypnos eyed it, the metal tip freshly sharpened.  He sat up, letting the blanket pooled on his lap, biting down on his lip.

“You know, you are safe here right?” Hypnos asked quietly. You paused, staring at him for a moment then toward your weapon.

“Ah.”  You hesitated. “I can put it somewhere else.” 

Hypnos shook his head and beckoned you to come join him. You tugged off your tunic, and Hypnos’ mouth went dry. Even scarred, you looked strong. When you joined him on the bed, his hand went to your jaw, cupping it and leaned up for a kiss.

It was quickly becoming one of his favorite things, kissing you. He didn’t realize there were so many wonderful and different kinds of kisses, the deep ones that lingered even after or the hard, passionate ones that made him burn.

He quickly became fond of the soft kisses the most, the slowness made his mind quieten just a bit, and you were so, so gentle with him. 

Your hands landed on his waist, one of your thumbs rubbing circles on his stomach. The kiss broke but you pressed one more in the corner of his mouth. You watched his face carefully.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to move it?” You asked, one of your hands moving to press against the small of his back.

“I’m sure. It. I don’t know. It's just- do you not feel safe? Master Hades has a spell out though the whole house. No fighting allowed.” Hypnos said.

Your mouth twitched, eyes unfocused just for a split second. Then you sighed, pressing into his palm.

“It's not a matter of feeling safe.” You paused. “It's just even with all the security, even with my training. I know just how quickly things can get dangerous.” 

Hypnos frowned, wanting to tell you were wrong but he couldn’t. You saw the expression on his face and kissed his forehead. 

You lingered and kept your voice low. “I am safe here and it comforts me to know that you feel safe, that you are safe here. I cannot tell you how much relief that brings me.” 

Hypnos shifted, meeting your eyes. The lean in was slow, and the kiss spoke for him and for you, saying more than words could. He hoped that you knew that even if he didn't understand everything, he understood you. 

~

It was rare for Hypnos to leave the house, but he knew something was wrong when he saw no other shade outside the doors. So he waited, not moving farther out. His fingers twitched, a powerful sleep spell at the ready. He was sure your his magic and the training you gave him would be more than enough.

Only it wasn’t enough.

Hypnos knew such things could happen quickly. He had read battle accounts. He remembered your words. 

A faint sound came from behind Hypnos, of rushing footsteps and harsh breathing.

Pyrrhus was Achilles’ son as well, a warrior himself and just as swift. 

His red hair was like a war banner in the green light of Tartarus. His eyes were wild, bloodshot. Those burning blue eyes were the last thing Hypnos saw before the metal clasped around his hands.

It felt like ice formed in his very being, sharp and jagged, digging into the warmth of a star.

So cold, it burned.

Hypnos tried to scream but nothing came out. 

[poormeowmeowcollector]

Amma

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Warnings: Grief, Frigga's death, nightmares, Loki being sad

Summary: Loki's nightmares are usually violent. But lately, they only cry out a word, Amma

Notes: I kept seeing Frigga being called Amma in fics and got the idea

Read on AO3

You have been in the tower for months, placed as a backup agent for the God of Mischief (well, Fury just wanted to play matchmaker but neither you nor Loki have the heart to admit that you realized what happened) and you have mastered the unwritten rules of being Loki's roommate.

To be honest, they are exceptionally few. Know that they count the sweets they stash, if you steal something you must place it exactly where you found it, never make fun of Lady Gaga without a death-wish and never, ever, ever, unless it's life or death, wake up Loki when they're having a nightmare.

It's common amongst agents and soldiers and warriors to sleep lightly and be ready to strike even at rest, and Loki isn't an exception. When sleeping peacefully, or just dozing off, you can barely get close without their cold hand gripping your wrist, eyes scanning you for the longest second before they relax and go back to sleep. But, Loki's nightmares are more violent than that.

You don't know (and frankly don't want to) what the ever living fuck Loki has endured, but their nightmares are just terrifying to witness, you can't even begin to imagine what it's like living them. Of course, Loki's not an idiot, and tried to warn you on your first days, that it gets very intense, and it's better to let it die out. But no, you thought. It can't be that bad, you thought.

The same fucking night, you were sure the tower was collapsing. Everything was shaking, green flashes of lights were striking in a seemingly random frequency, and Loki was screaming for dear life in Old Norse. So, like an idiot, you decide to investigate, and find Loki wrestling with the torn pillow, still sleeping. And, like a bigger idiot, you decide to wake them up.

In a matter of seconds, you end up pinned on the floor with your nose bleeding and Loki apologizing like crazy and trying to heal you while half asleep and half panicking. And, for that night, you decide to never attempt to wake Loki from a nightmare from up close.

But still, from the chaos of the night and Loki's tiredness the next day, you always knew when Loki was having a nightmare. Then, it changed during the winter.

It's late at night, and you want to use the bathroom (which is closer to Loki's room than yours). And you can hear Loki whimpering from the walls. You've seen Loki cry, more times than they're proud to admit, but have never witnessed them whimper, and they have never cried during a nightmare. You could swear, they were crying out a word, Amma.

You don't want to ask Loki about it, so you go to the next best bet, Thor. But, when he hears the word, his face darkens, and he walks away without a word. After that, both brothers are the gloomiest you've ever seen them. Both are barely leaving their rooms, Thor Is overeating while you have to beg Loki to eat a bite, and the weeping in the dead of the night isn't stopping. No one has any idea what's happening, why both of them got like that in a matter of days.

Thor is still down when he takes you aside and explains, both, the meaning of the word and why Loki is crying it out every night. He also makes you promise to not leave them alone tonight, since he can't bear being with them.

The same evening, just as the stars start to shine, you find Loki on the balcony, staring at the sky, looking for something. They did that several times this week, but just now you realize who they're looking for.

“Do you mind if I sit?” You whisper, not daring to interrupt. Loki nods, their eyes pinned on the stars.

“Thor told you…” they don't ask, just seek for confirmation. You don't argue, and they take the silence as a yes. “You can say what you want to,” they hum.

“Loki, I'm so sorry for your loss, I can't imagine what it's like losing a mo-” you try to speak, but get interrupted.

“No, you can't,” they speak blandly, their voice dead. You would be hurt, but they're right. You can't imagine what it's like losing someone as close as Loki was to their mother. You can't even begin to imagine their pain. Yet, Loki sighs. “I apologize, I was harsh…” they rub their nose bridge, trying to hold back tears.

“No, it's okay…” you reassure them. “Do you want to talk about her, a distraction or silence?” You ask. It's a tradition, at this point, to suggest these three whenever Loki feels down. This time, you're sure they'll ask for silence.

“I think talking about her would honour her more than silence,” Loki decides with a deep breath.

“You can change your mind whenever you want,” you remind and turn the chair a bit, just so you can face them. And Loki finally looks down from the stars and at you.

They start explaining her character; how empathetic and kind and generous and brave she was, how she was the only one able to calm down Odin, how she could manage to tame two wild boys with a superiority complex so effortlessly, how she was always there for both her sons, not playing favourites, not comparing. She just loved them both.

Then, Loki starts sharing stories with her. A lot of times, in other stories of their shenanigans with Thor, their mother was there, but they never elaborated on her or even said her name, you assume it hurt too much. Even when mentioning her, in the stories before, Loki would call her “The Queen”, not Mother, or even Frigga.

But now, their tongue lets her name slip, again and again. After some stories, Loki effortlessly replaces Frigga with Mother, and then, Amma. You are hanging from Loki's lips, watching as their eyes glimmer with something other than tears, and even a little smile appears every time the word “Amma” passes their lips.

And then, the smiles die out, and Loki's face darkens again. “Do you know what my last words were to her?” They ask, bending one leg and hugging the shin. You stay silent, waiting for Loki to brush it off.

“I… it was while I was in my cell… She had come there, with an illusion, to try to talk me into apologizing to Odin, trying to at least gain the privilege of visitors… For eighteen months, she'd come and beg me to swallow my pride and retreat. But I was too fucking arrogant. And I was getting tired of seeing her only to get reminded that I have nothing to hold onto… and… I yelled at her, that Odin is not my father… it's the first time I had yelled at her… and she said “then I'm not your mother,” and… I wanted to beg her to forgive me, to fall on my knees like some fucking toddler and cry that I was wrong, and I'm sorry… but I was too stupid to swallow my pride, and… I told her, “no, you're not” and broke her spell….” Loki stops to take some deep breaths, their hands shaking as they try to wipe their tears. You want to hug them, but you know they're not done yet.

“And then, some prisoners escape. One of them is a Kursed, a Dark Elf with destructive magic in them, giving them the strength of a thousand men… and, for some fucking reason, I told him how to go to the stables, where the hammers and whips are held…. Next thing I know, there's a big battle, and a guard comes and tells me that she died… When… when Thor came and promised me revenge, he directed me to that Kursed I helped…” they can barely hold their sobbing, their voice barely a whisper on the last part. “And I think I'm to blame for her death,” they lower their head after that, trying to wipe the still flowing tears.

You get up from your chair and offer a hug, Loki dragging you to their chair and holding you like they'll die, letting all the pain run down freely. You don't say a word, can't say a word. You can only hold them, trace random patterns with your thumb on their back, give them a shoulder to cry to until the sobs fade into small sniffles.

When Loki is done, they don't let you go. No, they carefully turn you around and make you sit on their lap, still clinging onto you. You hold their hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“It's… she gave me my magic, and saved my life… and… the way that I use it… the way that I took this tool made to heal and create joy and turned it into this… this weapon of destruction… I feel like I failed her…” they whisper. You keep tracing that curved line on their palm with your hand, trying to think.

“Can I ask, why were you looking at the stars like that?” You ask.

“It's an old Æsir belief. After a funeral, the body becomes yellow sparkles, so people believe that the deceased ones can see us through the stars,” they explain, gazing at the stars again. Then, you get the idea.

“Stars are omnipresent, even when we don’t see them. So, your mother sees you all the time, and she watches you grow and turn that “weapon” back into something beautiful that saves lives. And she’s watching you face your emotions and improving your relationships with others. I bet her heart swells with pride as watches you,” you turn around to face them as you speak. Tears form in their eyes again, but it’s not entirely sadness.

“Do you mean this, or do you say it on an attempt to make me feel better?” Loki asks, voice shaking.

“I wouldn’t say something I don’t mean on a matter that is so important to you,” you watch as they smile through the tears and hug you tightly again.

“Thank you, dear. Can we switch into the silence option now?” they ask lowly, you nod. And you stay silent, laid on Loki’s shoulder and watching the stars with them until you both fall asleep on the balcony.

Tonight, Loki did call out for their “Amma” in their sleep. But they didn’t cry, and when you woke up before them, you swear you saw them smiling.

~~~~~

Taglist: @lucywrites02 @electroma89 @the-emo-asgardian @rorybutnotgilmore @hybrid-in-progress @weirdfangirl2416 @darkacademicfrom2021 @nicoistrying @twhiddlestonsstuff @kozkalovesloki @thewindandthewolves @gaitwae @leucoratia

[efyra]

Bubble Bath • Fred Weasley

pairing: dad!fred weasley x mom!reader

summary: after an exhausting day at work, fred comes back home to his wonderful family.

word count: 2.6k

warnings: fluff (?); mentions of sex.

author’s note: i had a dream about having kids with fred and this idea came into my mind - so i just had to write it?

like always, i’m sorry for any grammar mistake 🥺

reblogs are always welcome

you can check my other works here

The first time Fred Weasley thought "bloody hell, this must be the happiest day of my life" - which he could remember - was in a summer of 1985 when Bill and Charlie taught him and George how to play Exploding Snap. The second was when he started his studies at Hogwarts in September 1989. The third was the following year when he and George were accepted into the Gryffindor’s Quidditch team as beaters. The fourth time was on a winter's afternoon in 1993 when he had his first kiss. The fifth was when the dream of opening a joke shop with his twin had become even closer to reality after Harry gave them the Triwizard Tournament prize. The sixth was in a 1995 night when he lost his virginity. The seventh time was the day Weasley's Wizard Wheezes opened at Diagon Alley in 1996. The eighth was in May 1998 with the defeat of Lord Voldemort. The ninth was when he met you on a spring morning in 2001. The tenth time was when you agreed to go on a date with him a few days later. And since then, Fred Weasley had lost the count. 

But he remembered the most special days. 

The day you kissed. The first night you spent together. The lunch his mother prepared at the Burrow so that you could be introduced to the Weasley family. When you finally said "I love you" to each other. That afternoon you agreed to have a picnic, but you didn't check if it would rain and came home soaked. The next morning that Fred woke up sick and you made him some soup. The time you two couldn't sleep then you stayed up all night talking while drinking hot chocolate. When Fred asked you to marry him on the first day of a new year. That summer day in 2004 when you and Fred said "I do" and made a vow to love each other for all eternity. The dinner where you revealed that you were pregnant with your first child together. The day Maeve Weasley was born and your world had changed completely. And since then, Fred Weasley went to sleep every day thinking, "bloody hell, this must be the happiest day of my life." 

He was enchanted with every little moment. 

Fred was thrilled the moment he hold Maeve for the first time and nested her in his arms; he pressed a delicate kiss on her forehead, feeling that newborn baby smell and watching her sleep peacefully, finally realizing that she was his baby - his baby to care for, to protect, to love; his daughter. 

He remembered the first time Maeve opened a toothless smile, that she babbled something in the baby’s language, when she ate solid food when she was six-months-old and ended up with banana puree - made by mommy - all over her face, the way she clapped her hands when she heard Hermione singing muggle’s nursery rhymes, when she took her first steps two weeks after her one-year birthday. Fred was not ashamed to admit that he cried when Maeve first called him "Daddy", that he got emotional every time she lay on his chest and fell asleep there as if it was the most comfortable place in the world, of how he couldn't stop smiling silly while watching her dance "head, shoulders, knees and toes". Since Maeve was born, Fred Weasley thought he couldn't be happier. 

But you got pregnant again; and in 2008, Alexander Weasley was born - better known as "lil’ Alex". 

And Fred was, once again, in heaven. 

Just like happened with Maeve, he was enchanted by his son from the moment he heard that little weeping for the first time; he couldn't help but be amazed to see that the e/c color of your irises were reflected in Alex's eyes, that his nose was very similar to his father's and that he had much more hair than his sister when she was born - and once again, he had fallen in love with that newborn baby smell. 

Fred's heart melted completely when he saw the scene of you in bed holding Alex in your arms while Maeve was sitting next to you, her neck stretching so she could see her little brother more closely; he opened a broad smile with that vision, the vision of his family - his to care for, to protect, to love, his family.

That day, Fred sat next to you on the bed, taking Maeve on his lap and placing his arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer to his body; he remembered the way you looked at him with a tender smile decorating your face and said: "you and I make beautiful babies," but before he could answer, Maeve exclaimed: "but Alex looks like smashed potato!”.  Fred used his free hand to tickle his daughter briefly, who let out an angelic laugh and squirmed in his arms, saying: "not the tickle monster, Daddy!", he laughed once again, kissing Maeve's fluffy cheek; his heart seemed to barely fit inside his chest of how much love he felt at that moment. Then, your head rested on his shoulder, Fred turned his head to give you a long kiss on the temple; you, in turn, lifted your face towards your husband, sealing your lips in a very short but passionate kiss - passion for the beautiful family you built together, for the life full of joys that awaited you and without forgetting, of course, the overwhelming passion you still felt for each other. 

It wasn't always easy. 

Despite the joys that fatherhood brought in your lives, conciliating raising your children with your jobs and the marital relationship was something that sometimes you failed at. Sometimes you fought for silly reasons, other times for more serious issues, but you never forgot that in the first place you loved each other. 

The worst fight you and Fred had was when the two of you were facing difficulties at work, and without even noticing it, you started to take your frustrations out on each other; you both spent a whole day not talking - just talking about your children - but in the late afternoon, when you and the redhead were distracted with work matters while Maeve and Alex were playing in the middle of the  living room, your daughter shouted cheerfully: "Mom, Dad, look! Alex likes when I dance!", the two of you immediately dropped the papers you were reading and watched the scene before your eyes: Maeve - with 3 years-old - was making extravagant ballet moves and Alex - who had just completed 8 months - was sitting on the fuzzy carpet, applauding his sister with a smile of few teeth decorating his face. At that moment, your eyes met with Fred's, and as if you were having a mental conversation, you two agreed: "No work in this world was more important than this: Maeve dancing ballet while Alex applauded". When the children slept, you had a long talk and made up in the best possible way: in bed. 

And you were fine. Better than just fine; you and Fred were happy with the life you built together. And even if some days weren't so good, the redhead would still sleep thinking that he had lived the happiest day of his life because it was one more day by your side while raising your children together, because it was one more day with his family. 

Today, Fred felt exhausted; he and George stayed until later at the shop because they needed to make an inventory of their products, and even though they had several employees so they didn't need to overload themselves with work, that task was something they didn't trust anyone else to do but each other. 

As soon as he arrived at his home through Floo Network, Fred was surprised that there was nobody in the living room and that no three-years-old girl jumped on his arms saying: "Daddy, Daddy, you're home!", but he heard laughter coming from the upper floor. He took off his shoes and socks, leaving them in the corner, and went upstairs; Fred followed that familiar sound and stopped in front of the bathroom suite you two shared, which was with the door ajar. 

For a moment, he allowed himself to watch the scene: inside of a huge white ceramic bathtub, were his wonderful children and sitting on a stool right next to it while holding Alex - who had already completed one year old - with both hands, you were wearing only a simple t-shirt and cotton shorts, your hair was in a tight bun on the top of your head; you were laughing while looking at Maeve, who was pretending to be a fish and imitating Dory's line in "Finding Nemo" when was speaking whale - you two really thanked Hermione for all the childish entertainment she introduced to you over the years -; the little girl was talking to Alex - who was supposed to be the whale.

"Ah, so you’re there" Fred said with a broad smile on his face; Maeve exclaimed an excited "daddy", splashing drops of water on all directions when she jumped. "I thought I was abandoned" he joked, walking towards the bathtub, and squatting close to where you were. "Hi, baby."

"Hi, love" you answered, smiling sweetly and leaning slightly towards your husband so you can greet him with a peck on the lips. 

Fred also greeted his children, saying tenderly: "Hi, little princess. Hi, little prince"; you two chatted distractedly while watching your children play in the bathtub - Maeve still pretended to be a fish and Alex played with a rubber duck. 

"How was your day?" he asked. 

"Normal" you shrugged. "Nothing new, which is a relief." 

"That's good. And how are our little angels?" 

"They've had dinner, played a lot and now they're taking a bath to go to bed. Did you have dinner?" 

"Yes, I ate something at the shop with George." Fred placed a hand on your knee, squeezing it gently. "I'm sorry for staying..."

"Don't apologize" you interrupted him. Your husband had never helped you to take care of the children; he had never helped you because that was his job too - he wasn’t “helping” you; he was taking care of his kids. Fred never expected compliments or medals for putting his children on bed, for giving them food, for waking up in the middle of the night when they were crying or for changing diapers; he knew that those were his responsibilities as much as they were yours. "I know" you sent him a reassuring smile. Days like this when you and Fred didn't do those things together were very rare - after all, you were partners for life. 

"Thank you" your husband smiled.

"And what about your day? Could you finish the inventory?" you asked. 

He let out a tired sigh, watching Alex chewing on the rubber duck. "Well... yes, but not everything. I still need..." 

"Daddy!" Maeve demanded his attention, interrupting him. "Look what I can do!" she said before immersing her head in the water for a short second before pulling it up again, her hair sticking to her cheeks as she wiped the water off her face. "See?" she opened her eyes and looked at her father, waiting for his answer. 

The redhead didn't take long to react, quickly applauding enthusiastically. "Wow, princess! You truly are a little fish! Did you see her, Mommy?" he looked at you. 

"I did, Daddy!" you smiled. "Our little Maeve already is a big girl!" 

Fred got rid of his jacket and tie, rolled up his sleeves to his elbow and sat on the bathroom floor, standing next to the bathtub as he listened intently to his daughter tell him about her fun day with Grandma Molly and Grandpa Arthur; Maeve said that Uncle Harry and Ginny showed up for a visit, so she played with her cousins all afternoon - she was asleep when you arrived at the Burrow right after work, but Alex was very agitated. 

You both took the opportunity that the little girl was very distracted and started to give your children a bath; you were soaping Alex's body while Fred washed Maeve's hair. He took the handheld shower and used it to rinse the shampoo, being careful to not let the foam fall in her eyes or ear. So, you two changed; now, you washed Maeve's body while Fred poured the baby shampoo on Alex's hair. Your husband stayed on his knees, leaning over the bathtub to hold his son firmly with one arm while using the other to give him a bath; the one-year-old was still very focused on chewing the rubber duck. 

Fred laughed. "You really like this toy, don't you, big boy?" he said to his son, who looked at his direction with his big e/c eyes. "This lil' duck is tasty, isn't it?" he said in a higher pitch and musical tone. Alex pushed the rubber toy away from his mouth just to laugh at his father, bouncing in his arms. "Yeah, you like it," the redhead smiled. "Maybe you can tell Grandpa Arthur what is the function of these rubber ducks, huh?"

You were washing Maeve's armpits when you heard the sound of your son laughing; you looked at that direction and a broad smile appeared on your face as you watched Fred talking to Alex about his toy. Then, your daughter also laughed. 

"Mommy!" she said between laughs. "You're tickling me!" 

"I'm sorry, honey," you said with a smile, pulling the little girl close so you could give her a kiss on the cheek. 

Minutes later, the children were properly dressed in their pajamas and Fred went to take a bath. And the scene he found when he returned to his room was even more adorable than the one in the bathroom: you were with your back against the headboard and, on each arm, you nested Maeve and Alex while singing them a lullaby as they were drinking hot milk from their bottle. 

His daughter was the one who saw him leaning against the door, she demanded that he come to bed with you, and as soon as Fred did, Maeve left her position to lay her head on her father's chest - now you and Fred were lying on the edge of the bed and your children in the middle of you two. 

"Daddy, can you tell us a story?" the little girl asked. 

"I don't know, honey," he said. "Mommy was singing."

"But the song's over, isn't it, Mommy?" your daughter looked at you. 

"Yes, dear" you nodded, opening a little smile. 

"Will you, Daddy? Please?" Maeve made a pout. "Alex also wants you to tell us a story," she looked at her little brother, who was almost asleep on his mother's arms. "Yes, Daddy, tell us a story," she said in a soft tone - as if it was the little boy talking - "see? He wants it too!" 

You both laughed at your daughter's little trick. "Well, Daddy, it seems they want you to tell us a story," you shrugged, still with a smile on your face. 

"How can I deny a request from the three loves of my life, huh?" Fred smiled, squeezing Maeve in his arms and giving her a kiss on the forehead. 

You listened carefully as your husband told the story of two fire-haired brothers who fought against a terrible one-eyed monster and managed to obtain a precious magical item: a map that led them to various adventures around the world. And when the two brothers discovered how to get to the Candy Land, you and Fred noticed that your children were already deeply asleep in your arms. 

You both shared a look and a smile. A passionate look at the love that existed in your family. A proud smile for the life you had together. 

"I love you" your husband whispered at you.

"I love you too" you whispered back. 

And before Fred fell asleep, he thought, "bloody hell, this must be the happiest day of my life."

taglist: @eunoia-kth

[highwaytothedangerzone502]

India Lima Yankee - Chapter 4

Pairing: Rooster x Female OC

Word Count: 2306

Warnings: Death, Cancer, VERY SAD (y'all, I was in tears writing this and that's really saying something)

Summary: Juliette Kazansky discovers Maverick is back in town for a special training detachment, but she's more than a little blindsided when her Rooster arrives too. Having not spoken to him for almost ten years after their less than amicable break-up, Juliette can only imagine how the next few weeks are going to play out when she remains head over heels in love with him while he wants nothing to do with Juliette other than to forget her.

Or so she thinks.

Notes: Chapters in italics are flashbacks.

Chapter Songs: Death Bed You & Me There You'll Be

Chapters: Chp 1 Chp 2 Chp 3 Chp 4 Chp 5 Chp 6 Chp 7 Chp 8 Chp 9 Chp 10 Chp 11 Chp 12 Chp 13 Chp 14 Chp 15 Chp 16 Chp 17 Chp 18 Chp 19 Chp 20 Chp 21 Chp 22 Chp 23

A solemn silence settled over the Kazansky household after the news of Carole Bradshaw's diagnosis of Stage 4 brain cancer. Juliette had been at the hospital with Maverick and Bradley when the doctor broke the news. Juliette remained relatively put together as she consoled a distraught Bradley and Maverick, holding it together for the two of them because they'd already lost so much. Only when Maverick dropped her off at her house afterward and Juliette found herself in the safety of her bedroom did she allow herself to break. 

She cried for Carole Bradshaw, the woman who didn't deserve to have such a horrific situation befall her, the woman who lost her husband in a tragic accident and wanted to do everything she could to protect her son from the same fate, the woman who most likely wouldn't make it to see her son graduate from high school in a couple of months, let alone get married and have kids.

Juliette cried for Maverick, her uncle who had been orphaned in his mid-teens, the man who held the lifeless body of his wingman and brother, grief-stricken over losing yet another member of his family, the man who was about to lose the closest person he had to a sister.

Most of all, Juliette cried for Bradley, the boy who had barely known his father for but a few short years before Goose's death, the boy who idolized his mother and would do anything to protect her and could do nothing to save her now, the boy who- like his Uncle Maverick- would be orphaned before he turned eighteen. 

Sarah Kazasnky found her daughter curled in a ball, weeping on her bed. Through her tears, Juliette explained to her mom the situation. Carole Bradshaw had been a second mother to Juliette. She'd grown up with the Bradshaw matriarch, had seen her at every single one of Jules's birthdays and major life events. She was the first one Juliette and Bradley told they were officially dating, and Carole damn near lost her mind with excitement, hugging them both with such fierceness that both kids had trouble breathing. Juliette remembered Carole telling her, "You know, I was about your age when I met Goose. He was the goofiest kid I'd ever met, and he had a mouth on him that got him out of the same trouble it got him into. No one could ever stay mad at him, not even me. He would just give me this look that would melt my heart."

Juliette knew the look Carole spoke of. It was the same look Bradley wore whenever he came to Jules to be fixed up after a fight, this kicked puppy expression that would soften even the hardest of hearts. Noticeably, Bradley hadn't gotten into any fights since he started dating Juliette, which was a relief both to her and his mom. 

Now, the once bright and outgoing woman lay in a hospital bed, barely clinging to life. Juliette couldn't think much about it unless she wanted to experience another wave of unstoppable tears. Instead, she forced herself to focus on caring for Bradley and being there for him when he needed her. Between Jules, Maverick, Iceman, and Sarah Kazansky, Bradley had a good support system, but none of them could ever be what Carole was to him.

As Juliette shuffled silently down the stairs to head to the hospital, she heard Maverick's voice behind her father's shut office door. Curious, she crept over and placed her ear to the door.

"- asked me. So now I'm asking for your help," Maverick said, his voice heavy with grief. "I'm cashing in all my favors. I can't lose him too. I can't, Ice. He's the last bit of Goose and Carole I have, and I can't risk-"

"I know," came her dad's understanding tone, "but you realize if he finds out, you'll lose him in a completely different way."

"I'd rather have him hate me for pulling his papers than have him dead."

Juliette's heart dropped in her stomach as the gravity of the conversation dawned on her. Slowly, she backed away from her father's office, careful not to alert the men to her presence. Juliette slipped outside and collapsed on the swinging bench, processing what she'd just heard, weighing her options of telling Bradley or not. He had enough going on with the inevitable death of his mom right around the corner. To burden him with the knowledge now of Mav pulling his papers might send him over the edge. Then again, if Juliette waited to tell him, he might not have a chance to convince Maverick to do otherwise and miss out on his lifelong dream of becoming a pilot. However, there was a nagging voice in the back of her mind that said: Don't tell him. 

Did Juliette want Bradley to get into the Navy? Yes. She wanted to see him follow his dreams, but he had a recklessness problem, and she was terrified it would cause him to join his parents' fate. If she did nothing to prevent Maverick from pulling Bradley's papers, she wouldn't suffer from the nightmares of losing her boyfriend and best friend.

The door opened, and Maverick walked, unaware of Juliette's presence on the porch until she said, "You're going to pull his papers?"

Maverick momentarily froze, then slowly turned around. His bloodshot eyes and wan complexion did nothing to help the knot rapidly forming in Juliette's throat. She'd never seen Maverick cry. Like her dad, he was the epitome of strength and resilience. In one glance, Juliette understood the magnitude and depth of Maverick's fear of losing Bradley.

"How did you know?" Maverick asked, hesitantly approaching his niece.

"I overheard a bit of the conversation you had with dad."

He nodded, taking a seat next to her when she failed to yell or berate him. "Are you going to tell Bradley?"

Juliette wrung her hands as she pondered the question, the options from earlier repeating themselves in her head until she finally arrived at a conclusion. "No. Don't get me wrong, I don't approve of what you're doing, but I'm also not going to stop you. I'm as terrified as you and Carole are to lose him. He's reckless, Maverick, and not in the way you were at his age. You didn't have a death wish. Bradley... his temper scares me, and not in the way that I'm worried he'll hurt me or anyone else. I'm scared he'll let his emotions get the better of him, and he'll unintentionally get himself killed. If he's up in the air and someone gets under his skin, I don't trust him not to do something stupid. We... we're already planning Carole's funeral. I don't want to have to plan his either." Juliette's voice cracked, and a flood of tears poured down her cheeks. Maverick pulled her into a tight embrace, letting her get out the current and future guilt she would always hold for keeping this secret from Bradley.

"I'm so sorry, Juliette," Maverick whispered, kissing the top of her head. "You shouldn't be having to deal with this. You have enough on your shoulders right now, and I'm so sorry."

Juliette wiped the tears away despite them being replaced a couple seconds later by fresh ones. "He's going to go ballistic if and when he finds out, and, let's be honest, it's more of the 'when' he finds out. Pulling his papers, you'll prevent losing him one way, but you'll lose him another. We both will."

"When he finds out, I won't tell him that you know. He'll need you when it happens because once he shuts me out of his life, you and your family will be all he has left, and you're the only ones I trust to watch out for him."

"You don't have to do that. I'm as guilty in all of this as you are. I'm not pulling the papers myself, but I'm still helping you by not stopping you or telling him."

"You were never supposed to know, and you and I both know you can't stop me from doing this. You have no guilt in this, and whenever you start to feel guilty, you come to me so I can talk you out of it."

Juliette laughed weakly through her tears. "Thank you. I'm really sorry, Mav. For everything that you're going through. If there's anything I can do to help-"

"Just take care of yourself and be there for Bradley, in that order. You're my family too. Never think otherwise. I'll be fine. I always am." He gave her a tight hug. "Where were you headed when you overheard us?"

"The hospital to relieve my mom."

Maverick stood up, holding out his hand for her. "Come on. I'll take you there. I was going to head there-" His ringing phone interrupted him. He answered, "Hey, Sarah. We're on our-"

Any color remaining in Maverick's face vanished, and Juliette didn't need him to convey what her mom had just told him to know the news.

Carole Bradshaw had passed away.

***

When Juliette arrived at the hospital, she found her mom in a panic, searching for Bradley. Upon seeing Maverick and her daughter, she explained frantically, "I was talking to the doctor about next steps, and when I turned around, he was gone. I don't know where he went and-"

"It's okay, Sarah," Maverick promised, grasping her shoulders reassuringly. "We'll find him. He can't have gone far. Jules, you stay here in case he comes back. Your mom and I will go look for him. When your dad gets here, tell him what's happened."

Juliette nodded. She wanted to help them search, but now was no time to argue about such trivial matters. Instead, she paced in front of Carole's room, keeping her eyes trained on everyone who traveled down the hallway, hoping to see Bradley's familiar face but always being disappointed. Finally, unable to bear feeling useless in the search for him, Juliette pulled out her phone and dialed Bradley's number. It rang and rang and rang, but nothing. She sighed. He wasn't going to return. The last place he'd want to be is where his mom passed. He'd be somewhere with little to no noise, somewhere he could be left alone to his thoughts.

Defying orders, Juliette set off to find him. She navigated her way to the other side of the hospital and downstairs to an eerily quiet section of the building. Here, she redialed Bradley's number. He was never one to turn it on vibrate except during class. He never wanted to miss a call, and Juliette placed her bets on this habit of his to track him down. Sure enough, she could hear the faintest ringtone singing at the end of the hallway. Juliette padded her way towards it, stopping outside a shut room. Cautiously, she opened the door and poked her head in. In the dim moonlight filtering through the blinds, Juliette could make out the silhouette of Bradley slumped against the wall with his head in his hands. Slipping inside, she shut the door and sat next to him without a word. He came here for silence, and Juliette wouldn't ruin that. When he was ready to speak, she'd be ready to listen.

"I couldn't take the noise," Bradley whispered, keeping his head down. "I just... I just wanted to be alone."

"Do you want me to leave?" Juliette offered gently even though it was the last thing she wanted to do seeing him in such a state.

"No." Bradley reached over and took her hand in his in a vise. "She's gone, Jules. My mom is gone."

"I know," Juliette replied, her voice cracking.

"Mom... mom was having horrendous headaches for months. They were making her nauseous and sick." Bradley lifted his head and slammed it against the wall with such force, Juliette jumped. "The doctors told her it was from God damned stress! She was dying, and they just thought the headaches were from stress! And now she's gone. She's just... gone."

"I'm sorry, Bradley. I'm so sorry." Juliette broke down crying alongside Bradley as they mourned the life of Carole Bradshaw, a most exceptional and lively woman. Juliette cried for Bradley, too, a boy who lost his parents much too early, earlier than anyone should.

"Your mom is probably looking for us," Bradley croaked out when they cried all their tears for the time being.

"Her and Maverick," Juliette confirmed. Her boyfriend nodded and, with a Herculean effort, pushed himself up. He extended his hand out for Juliette, and she took it. "We don't have to go yet if you're not ready."

"I'll never be ready for this. My whole family is gone, Jules. I'm an orphan. I'm- I'm all alone. I don't know who I'm going to-"

"You're not alone," Juliette cut in, cupping his face. "No one can ever replace your parents, but no matter what happens from here on out, you will always have Maverick and me. You are not alone. You always, always have a place with us."

Bradley nodded. He opened his mouth to say something but, instead, broke down into silent sobs. Juliette enveloped him in a tight embrace, crying along with him. She wanted to console him, but words wouldn't form between her grief and guilt, so Juliette did the one thing she could. With her finger, she spelled a message on his back in morse code.

Bradley pulled away just enough so he could look at her. "What was that?"

Juliette lifted the palm of his hand and respelled the message, this time finding just enough of her voice and explaining each line.

Dot dot. "India."

Dot dash dot dot. "Lima."

Dash dot dash dash. "Yankee."

[siriusmydeer]

Sirius x twin!reader where he runs away and doesn't say goodbye or anything, and they've always had a bad relationship because reader is like regulus and sirius is, well, sirius. baso angst where the reader is now ignoring sirius at hogwarts and sirius is trying to talk to her which is strange because before it was the other way round. she snaps and tells sirius how he knew what would happen if she ran away, and it was that she would get twice as many bad things to make up for sirius not (1)

the forgotten sister

sirius black x fem!twin!slytherin!reader

summary: sirius leaves you with aching despair the the faults that comes with being a black heir.

word count: 2.7k

warnings: child abuse, arranged marriage, angst, mentions of being imprisoned, mentions of death, mentions of violence, being disowned, mentions of death eaters, bad mental health, insinuation of depression, insinuation of a panic attack and bad sibling relationships

a/n: rate this cuz idk how to write angst but this has been sitting in my inbox for so long i’m so sorry

despair.

dejection.

guilt.

it was clear as day in your thought-stricken mind, without a second thought it ran thickly through your families veins for generations. every single heir of the noble house of black had the one ranging emotion of anything in a malicious, loathsome, vile and horrid context.

brothers, they were suppose to protect their siblings, love and nurture them above anyone else. they were suppose to kiss your forehead when you were sad, play with your barbies till they wanted to rip out their eyes because you had nobody else to play with, they were suppose to show another emotion than trepidation.

twins, the bond shared between them in unmatchable to any other sibling, they shared a womb for nine months, a direct bond, no seperation for nine months, thirty nine weeks, two hundred and seventy three days, a total of six hundred, five thousand and seventy hours together. a bond that should last a lifetime, of happiness, absentminded chuckles, homeliness, and love.

that’s what it should have, that’s how it should look in the peering eyes of anyone who had looked upon the similar featured siblings.

sixteen years, the only thing you had receiving in attempts of happiness, absentminded chuckles, homeliness, and love; but not everybody got what they wanted, in return you had received the raw sickly end of despair, dejection and guilt. what could such a young girl do to upset her brother from the very second her life begun? since the first weep that left sirius’ mouth, it almost felt like a duty ringing through your brain like a recurrent lullaby rather than a curse to be ignored by your family, and to only serve them when they deemed necessary for your forgotten presence.

rather than the lullaby on how a spider ran up a web, the only word familiar words in your brain since the ripe age of six was ‘crucio.’ the red tinging flare that sped across your living room like a jolt of lightening from the sky had just become a familiar sight to see at while your panic stricken figure strided through your house for just a few seconds more of peace.

dense words could be shared with your twin, not even a ‘good morning’ on most days. maybe a subtle nod when he first saw you as you both woke from your slumber if you were lucky, maybe even a sparing glance once or twice throughout the day. the first and last born female at the hands of walburga and orion black was simply ignored, a nobody, absolutely and completely nothing.

atleast sirius was there, he may not have spoke to you, or even looked in your direction but his presence in the dreadful household could’ve been enough, enough to put your blearing mind at ease for the night. that you had survived another day, that the next passing day his presence still comforted you because he was still there, that even though he didn’t protect you; he could protect regulus when he deemed fit, and as much as it put you in a absentminded agony, you appreciated his efforts to your youngest brother.

the following morning you woke up, his presence was diminished. his aura had vanished, the pungent smell of nicotine had left no trace on the stygian walls, the husk smell of expensive leather no longer enveloped in your ventilation and the irritating scent of his nose itching cologne was in absentia.

twin-tuition the muggles muttered, when two siblings who shared a whom could know almost everything and anything about each other without a second blip of thought. the walk to his room was excruciating, because in your heart his comforting presence had fled. the pink floyd and beatles posters had been torn from the walls, the mahogany wood from his drawers had been completely dismembered and his closet had been utterly ransacked.

he had left; he had left you.

that was the feeling of despair.

not even a note in his absence, not an explanation, not a second thought, sirius was gone; and sirius was not ever coming back.

the duration of the winter ‘holidays’ had seemingly passed slower than usual with the absence of your brother, the dismembering two weeks had finally been put on hold on your mind. finally finding the will to get out of your bed and put your mental health back to where it could’ve functioned at a less than normal way, the usual way. except you were sent back onto the hogwarts express only clinging onto the younger brother you had left, mind you he would’ve went off the second he stepped aboard but three seconds with your brother could’ve put you off for nine hours.

there was no will to try, no persuasive black ‘i get what i want’ attitude left churning in your system, the feeling of disgust trembling through your veins that your family would never accept you as long as you remained ‘y/n’ and not ‘y/n black,’ so you had to do what was right to protect regulus. because even though his nurturing feelings were inattentive, you would still do what was necessary to protect him.

if you weren’t the keen resemblance of your family you could’ve believed that you were adopted, having no will to become a follower of the dark lord, and no will to produce dark magic.

yet, you did what you had to do, an action that in no way would have been thought about for you; but you had what the other noble heirs lacked, compassion.

every corner you turned you had no will to search for the gryffindor brunette, your eyes didn’t erratically search for his searing silver irises, you didn’t attempt to decipher the red and gold colours from the green and silver that could’ve been crowded amongst the library, or the great hall. any will you had left for the receiving end of love from your family had utterly vanished.

that was the feeling of dejection.

sirius knew that prior years to hogwarts that you had rapidly searched for him in every single corner, mind you even there was a possibility he wasn’t there; you never faltered, you still gaped intently. it gave him the slight aching pain that he carried with himself, but the viridescent green you wore had him believing that you were simply no better than lucius malfoy or evan rosier.

it began to itch at his neck that you no longer had the need to know if he cared, if he was in the same room as you, if you even had the decree to call him your brother anymore. seemingly, you were always in between the walls of the library, a vermillion, maybe amber hued book sturdy between your hands in your grasp as you flipped the pages.

if you hadn’t shared the infamous last name, people would have never believed the two of you were what you called siblings, twin brother and sister. the epitome prankster, outgoing, and womanizer of hogwarts, the timid, skittish, quiet pureblood slytherin; and they just happened to share the same blood.

the female twin adorned reading, not because each book had different words carved upon its ivory paper, and not because there were hidden messages upon the words she so happen to enjoy deciphering but she loved reading partially because it allowed her to cry over someone else’s sadness when she could no longer identify her own.

her heart left sunken, submerged into somebody else’s misery because her own feelings enough weren’t able to bare.

he was silent for once, his mouth not barking up a laugh with his mates, he wasn’t sauntering around like he owned hogwarts himself, he was timidly walking into the depths of the library that were hidden from students. he was suddenly thoughtless, but his mind was not clear, and now face to face with the ghost of his sister; someone whom he had no intention to know, but now the wave of empathy ridden into his bloodstream as he saw the sudden tears glaze her eyes.

“you— you don’t look for me anymore. i noticed that, you don’t try and, try and look.” he started almost rudely, the first sentence he had ever uttered to his sibling was assumably how she didn’t care for his presence anymore. he was unable to produce many words at his shock, his nimble fingers anxiously shoving themselves into the grey slacks he had boughten for this years semester.

“i tried, at first. but you’re not worth a look anymore, sirius, because everywhere i go, the shadow of you is all i see.” as you contributed your words they only continued to be more broken, and stammered. the whimper in your tone clear as day as you spoke to someone you once called family, and now a sudden stranger.

“you left sirius, you left your sister, you left your brother. you left the people that needed you most because you’re selfish, you were thinking of you, not of us. so you don’t fucking deserve to be considered anymore, you don’t earn my respect on being thought about, sirius,” you were tired, achingly tired of fighting. you were tremendously exhausted of trying to fight for just a tinge of acknowledgments from your family members.

“you knew if you ran and you didn’t take us with you it would get worse, and you did it anyway. that makes you a coward, i guess the sorting hat does make mistakes after all.” you concluded, now wearied from your brother suddenly giving you the time of day when you don’t care to yearn for it anymore. his decisions affecting you single-handedly the most, your emotions no longer considering his aching feelings as his sister dismissed him at the similar treatment you had recurrently received.

“now i’ve got this penetrating, life altering ink on my wrist, because of your foolish actions. i have to pay for it, and a husband awaiting me. so now that you’re going all cry baby on me because i don’t try and find you anymore, you can stick your dreary where it came from because your damage is done.”

he had no thoughts, no words, completely ambushed. his older twin sister, someone whomst he adorned as his role model as a young boy, something he would never admit to as a child due to his stubborn nature, was now a death eater and profused in an arranged marriage because he couldn’t give a thought about his despairing twin. but now sirius had finally revived the raw end of the final emotion,

he had felt the emotion of guilt.

because even though he was trying to scoundrel some effort of empathy towards you the only thing displayed in front of him was the way your eyes spoke a thousand words but no one ever took the time to read them.

he never took time to read them.

“you need to leave— you need to run! w—why are you still there?” he started to hastily question as he peered at you erratically. his mind suddenly starting to boggle with questions as to why you would keep yourself in such a harmful situation, why you wouldn’t just run like he did.

it was simple to you, you weren’t selfish, you weren’t sirius.

“because i cannot leave regulus in that god forsaken house, the dark lord and his pesky followers would find me, and our parents would torture me, and murder me without remorse.” you finished, saying it too him like you had scribbled it upon a paper and practiced reading it every night like you were preparing for an exam, as if you would be questioned and persuaded to leave under the hands of your parents.

“i heard you— with regulus, you wanted to take him but not me. you almost brought him with you to the potters,” you revealed to the gryffindor, finally having the will to tell him clearly, on how he had wronged you in life and that there was absolutely nothing he could do to fix his actions.

“why do you never pick me sirius? why do you not want me as your sister? ‘ve always tried to protect you, why haven’t you done the same?!” at first your tone was monotone, almost dead but as your words continued your patience grew shorter and your rage grew larger.

your hand further having to clasp over your mouth by the end of your sentence before your classmates would’ve have gotten curious, and nosy at the altercation that was happening between the death eater and the disowned behind the shelves.

“i don’t— i don’t know, i just, s’different.” he was left thinking in confusion as to why he treated you differently, maybe it’s because you were the eldest, maybe you were female and in his eyes you possibly resembled his mother, maybe he had absolutely no idea as to why he treated you different.

“you dont— you don’t know? suddenly when i don’t give a shit about you, your yearning for your older sisters love. well guess what sirius, you’re not going to get it. your damage is done and there’s nothing to reverse it; so bugger off with your gryffindor mates, and your new family. if you want regulus to have a decent life from what he can live left, take him now before they take him too.” you concluded,

your first and last conversation occurring with your brother, several words left unsaid as you left him dumbfounded in the library, feeling the shoulder on shoulder collision as you left.

breathe in, breathe out. simple, again, again, again. the valley of tears were almost screaming at your waterline to let loose, to cry, to scream, to do something, anything. perhaps instead, you stood astonishingly still inside the girls lavatory, thinking, just thinking.

‘what did i do in my past life to deserve this now’ it was a simple and clear question, one that could never be answered, one without an explanation.

but yet you yearned for such a simple, yet complicated answer, maybe in another life sirius had the will to know you, your parents had the decree to love you, and maybe you weren’t sent down a path of affliction.

but that was another life, it wasn’t yours.

time went by, seconds, minutes, hours, weeks and years. they flew by, and now you were no longer that sixteen year old girl. you were eighteen, dressed in ivory with a small train at your feet, makeup painted on your eyelids, a small veil placed onto your head and your hands throughly squeezed in another’s; with the dreadful matching injected ink into your inner left fore-arms.

as the years had flew to that moment, lost was a lovely place to find yourself, but it simply wasn’t enough; it would never be enough. you had to wear the mask, ever noble heir of black had their own personal one, the one that covered every detailed flaw of you.

because after watching both of your brother’s, your supposed nurturers, your protectors, the ones that were suppose to love each and every bit of your aching soul left, you never realized how strong you had to be until being strong was your only choice that remained.

because in essence happiness is just blissful delusion, that esentially wouldn’t last forever no matter how exceedingly much you pleaded to merlin for it too last a second, maybe a minute if you were lucky.

but noble heirs of black weren’t lucky, they were cursed. and now you were finally brought upon to carry the tradition your children would be barred with, now carrying the last name of ‘dolohov.’

still remembering clear as day, like the sun was beaming into your viewpoint that one conversation you had shared with sirius in the library. the despairing love still left in your heart for your brother, your brother who stood up for regulus.

no matter how much they dismissed you as their protector, as their sister, as someone who loved them, you would always carry love for them in your trembling heart. after the amount of curses you took in their place, the screaming threats, the weeps from both of your brothers that stained your clothes, the times you had to face your parents in their absence.

you still had love for them, even if it wasn’t returned.

perhaps someday when you found the courage you crawl back home, beaten, defeated, maybe half dead. but not as long as you could remember the mark of family embedded into your heart, and your arm.

the noble heir’s of black, imprisoned, dead, and married off.

taglist: @fific7 @wisedreamcatcher @kittykylax @ronbrokemyheart @aspiringsloth20 @georgeswh0re @amourtentiaa @msmb @fangouria @five-cups-of-coffee @dracofknmalfoy @emmaev @serenitywilderness @artemis1orion @sirius-animagus @famdomhideout @hufflepogue @kirascottage @luvvninaz @miraclesoflove @black-like-my-soul

[sundaysundaes]

Before Our Story Began

Lee Donghyuck/Haechan X Reader | Smut, Fluff | 7.4k | College AU Summary: The popular new kid at your campus has this habit of raising his eyebrows when he flirts and you just realized that maybe you have a kink for it.

It has the same setting as my previous Mark Lee X Reader’s stories (Our First Time and Drunk Antics) but if you’re not into Mark (I’m not judging but what is wrong with you) you can just skip those two because this story can be read separately. 

Before dating the socially-awkward, yet utterly adorable Mark Lee, you have had your fair share of relationships that are now reduced into the form of awkward friendships. Your last boyfriend was Lee Donghyuck—who also publicly known as Haechan—and that fact does not sit well with Mark, because well, they were the best of friends. They still are, but it feels like they’re walking on thin ice whenever you’re in the picture so you try your best to stay away from your ex just to make sure everything is all right with the three of you.

Which is quite weird, knowing how close you were with Haechan before.

It was weird in the beginning, but fate really did play a major role in your relationship. You were in your second year of college and you’d managed to pull yourself together by that time, though you hadn’t really made any real friends yet. You weren’t aware of Mark’s existence either at that point, though he probably had with him being your long-time secret admirer after all. You were too busy trying to adapt to the new college and dormitory life, as well as trying to keep your grades up, that you could barely spend some time socializing with people. Project partners and study buddies were really as far as you could go with the term of friendship during your first year.

Your relationship didn’t exactly start as friends with Lee Donghyuck. Even though he had made tons of friends since his orientation days in college, you were certainly not one of them. You didn’t even know he existed in your world, and neither did he. Younger than both you and Mark, Haechan shone like the sun almost in every aspect of his life and unlike you, people had surely noticed that because he was academically smart, physically good-looking, very social and adventurously funny. It didn’t take long before he became popular at your campus. So popular, in fact, that you heard chatters of his name when you walked down the campus’ hallway with your textbooks in your arms. You had only known his name but not his face, so you didn’t really feel nervous or overly excited like any other girls would’ve probably had when you accidentally sat next to him during public speaking class and saw that he had a silly note stuck on his back, pressed against his black hoodie.

“Hey,” you called, loud enough for him to hear but quiet enough so the people around you wouldn’t notice. “You’ve got something on your back.”

The boy was young, and he had the smoothest golden skin you’d ever seen on a boy. You would probably kill to have his perfect sun-kissed skin. He had slightly chubby cheeks and a mop of dark brown hair with bangs falling over his eyes. He was slouching forward in his seat with his arms draped over his table, staring lifelessly at the board. His lower lip was jutting out in boredom and slight annoyance, reminding you of a five-year-old boy missing his favorite cartoon. He threw a glance to the side, looking at you with big, chocolate brown eyes, and his eyebrows raised in question.

“What?” He asked and you pointed to the back of his hoodie with your pen.

“I won’t judge if it’s the kind of thing you’re into,” you said, “but I don’t think placing a note behind your back with the words Spank Me, Mama, written on it is the best way to actually, you know, get it.”

He blushed and he blushed so hard that it made you think huh, he’s kinda cute, but you buried the thought right away. You had promised yourself to focus better that year. Falling head over heels for a fellow student on the first day of your new term was not the right way to do it.

“Right, thanks.” He struggled with the note, reaching behind his back as if his skin was on fire. You were about to help when he finally snatched the paper and read the words under his breath, eyes widening in shock.

“I assume that’s not your handwriting?” You were amused but tried your best not to tease him so much.

He did this pout that actually kind of fit his face, probably because he still had that baby face going on. Most of the guys you knew would look immensely disgusting if they pulled that kind of pout. Take your brother, Johnny, for example. Even the thought of him doing that already made you feel like punching your fist against a wall.

“I would weep myself to sleep if my handwriting was this bad,” he grumbled and you smiled secretly to yourself. He turned to you, an awkward grin painting his face. “Sorry, my friends are assholes. Do you happen to know a swamp nearby where I can dump dead bodies without being found out?”

You nod. “I know a place but it’s no longer free, though. They charge you, like, ten thousand won per body. Which is why I’m broke.”

His timid grin grew into a bright smile, probably feeling quite elated that somebody shared the same type of dumb humor as him. “I’m Lee Donghyuck.” He sneaked a hand under a table and you took it for a handshake, answering him with your name. “Thanks for saving my life.”

“Most welcome. You can save me back later when I have the words spank me, daddy, glued to my back.”

“So your friends are assholes too?”

“It’s what people have in common these days, I suppose.”

But when your professor spoke louder to make sure he didn’t any other noise in the room except his own, you had to cut your conversation short and only threw small grins at him every now and then.

When the class ended, you both parted ways with nothing more than a small wave of a hand and a casual, “Well, I guess, I’ll see you later.” You thought it would be too weird to get even friendlier than that, and he probably did too. You admitted that he was cute, but not cute enough for you to ditch your next class and make out with him in the nearest parking lot. You thought you were going to see him again soon anyway, probably the next week when the same class started.

And you were right, but you wished you weren’t because Donghyuck came back to your class the following week looking like a full-course meal.

Donghyuck probably had his hair cut short somewhere on the weekend and it looked absolutely fucking perfect on his head. His bangs were no longer hiding his eyes, and it was clear to you then that Donghyuck with his forehead seen, combined with those thick beautiful eyebrows and mesmerizing round eyes, were really something to behold.

He didn’t notice you were already in the class when he walked in, with his bag slinging on one shoulder. Some rowdy boys were shouting at the back of the room, “Haechan-ah, over here! Saved you a seat!” And Donghyuck grinned at them, waving his hand before he walked toward their seats and you thought Lee Donghyuck is Haechan?! That Haechan?! And mentally slapped yourself on the face when the flashback hit you. You had the chance to talk to one of the most popular boys in school and you talked about swamp and dead bodies.

Absolutely fucking perfect.

After you managed to collect yourself, you couldn’t hold back this urge to sneak a few glances to the back of the class, trying to catch a glimpse of that beautiful forehead of his—which you realized by then that you had some kind of a kink for it—without having him notice you.

But he did. He did notice every time you tried to secretly stare and he reciprocated each time with a smile, raising one of his eyebrows almost dangerously seductive at you and you thought goddamn if that wasn’t the sexiest thing I’ve seen in my twenty years of living I don’t know what is.

You offered your best effort to stay fucking calm despite everything that had been going on in your head, waving one hand at him with a small—hopefully not creepy—smile on your face. You immediately turned around right after, swallowing your breath, and tried not to vomit because your stomach felt like it was about to lurch out of your mouth. It wasn’t really an unpleasant feeling; it was just kind of new to you and you loathed the way your heart was slamming against your ribcages.

Okay, you mentally calmed yourself, get a hold of yourself. No need to panic. He’s just another cute boy, with a cute haircut, and a cute smirk, and a cute forehead and—

You really didn’t like where it was going.

When the class ended—and you didn’t learn a thing about it—you shoved your iPad back into your bag and let out the loudest sigh you had ever made in your sorry life.

“Bad day?”

Haechan’s voice was next to your ear and though you only jerked slightly on the outside, most of your soul had actually gone to heaven—or hell, from all those dirty thoughts you had about him during the last two hours of that lecture.

“Yeah,” you cooly replied. Thank God, your voice didn’t betray you. “My swamp is full again. I have to start looking for a new place.”

AM I SERIOUSLY TALKING ABOUT ANOTHER FUCKING SWAMP—

But Haechan was laughing about it, not too much but the amusement on his face was genuine. “It’s cute that you remember our previous conversation.”

“It’s cute that you do too.”

“Well, actually, that’s what I’ve been thinking about for the last week,” he told you with a smirk on his face. You dared to bet on your life that he was flirting with you and you were about to scream out of joy but you reminded yourself to play it cool.

“I don’t think it’s a conversation worth remembering,” you commented nonchalantly.

“Not if I had it with anyone else.”

You almost fell from your seat. “On second thought, it was a pretty interesting conversation, what with the—”

“Noona.” He suddenly leaned close, laying one hand on your desk to prop his weight. There was that smirk again—the one with his eyebrow raised. “I’m trying to flirt with you and ask you out on a date, if you haven’t noticed.”

Your tongue felt heavy in your mouth and you could hear your own heartbeat in your ears at that point. You had thought about it—about him asking you out—but your imagination did not do justice on how smooth and confident or how goddamn attractive he looked in real life. “Oh.”

“Oh.” He imitated, smirking a bit wider and you were dazed with how bright he shone. “So, can I take you out for lunch? Not anywhere close to swamps full of dead bodies, I swear.” Then after a small pause, he added, “Unless, that’s what you’re into.”

“Shut up,” you retorted, standing up and gathering all your belongings into your arms. “You’re paying.”

He laughed softly to himself, trailing after you with a cheeky grin on his face. “This swamp thing could be our thing, though.”

“Shut up.”

***

Haechan was not one to take it slow, you remember, which is way different from how Mark does things with you.

It wasn’t like Haechan was overly aggressive—as far as boys go, he was pretty normal about the whole dating and sex thing—but he really just head straight to the point whenever he had something in mind, whether it was by a sudden change of topic in your conversation, or acting it out directly with his body.

While Mark tends to plan things, Haechan just did everything out on a whim. You could be talking about science fiction movies at a cafe at one point, and ended up with having your clothes soaked with water by the next few hours because he suddenly felt like the day was too hot and jumping into the campus pool fully clothed was a good idea. You weren’t sure why you’d said yes to all of that when you just barely knew him but Haechan could be very persuasive. So dangerously so, that you would probably say yes to anything.

It was on your third date when he suddenly bent his head down and cut you in the middle of your sentence with a kiss. It was only a small peck, a quick pressing of his plump lips against yours, but it still managed to literally stop you from breathing for a good couple of seconds.

“Sorry,” he said, pulling away with his eyes still staring at your lips. “I was… distracted.”

You knew it was lust in his eyes and you were familiar with yourself enough to know that you usually preferred to have your first kiss after you knew the guy for a certain amount of time. But Haechan—the way he sometimes stared at your lips for a millisecond while you were talking, or hugged you for a few seconds too long before you parted ways—really made you feel special. Made you feel… wanted. And it had been a long time since someone made you feel that way.

So it really didn’t come too much of a surprise that when he dipped his head down to kiss you again, you responded with as much passion as he emitted. You didn’t care that both of you were still standing in the middle of your co-ed dorm’s hallway, though it was empty from how late it was. You had your fingers tangled in his hair as you tiptoed and leaned your entire weight to his body, making him inhale sharply and curl his fingers around the fabric of your dress.

“Again,” he breathed when you pulled away for a split second and immediately brought you back to him again. Haechan had one arm around your waist and another one holding your face, angling your head to the side so he could kiss you deeper.

Haechan was a good kisser—so frighteningly so that it made you feel conscious of how inexperienced you were compared to him. And with the way his hands were moving around your body, you could tell that things were going a bit too fast.

“Haechan—”

The hand that you laid on his chest to give you both some space, was brought over your head as he pressed your body against the door of your room. He kissed you harder, almost knocking your head against the wooden surface, and you could taste the flavor of the lollipop he had on his way back to your dorm. His scent was intoxicating in the best way possible, numbing your mind from thinking how this could probably end up in a bad decision.

“Haechan-ah, wait,” you gasped against his mouth, and when he did, pulling away from you for a few inches to catch his own breath, you noticed that even if you managed to stop him, you probably wouldn’t sound very convincing.

It was really fortunate that although Haechan was a man of passion, he still had the patience to make your consent his priority. “Too fast?” He asked, warm breath fanning against your lips and you really wanted to just close those few inches between you and be smothered with his kisses again.

So you did, and you could feel him smirking into the kiss. The way he slipped his tongue between your mouth made your knees buckle underneath your weight so you clutched onto him as if you were hanging to dear life. Haechan formed this low grunt at the back of his throat that made your skin tingle in delight, knowing that you had that kind of effect on him.

But really, something still didn’t feel right.

“Do you want to stop?” He asked, noticing how you fidgeted uncomfortably under his touch. He looked like stopping at this point would be the last thing he wanted to do but he still gave you the space you needed.

You nodded your head slowly at his question. Haechan looked like he had to put his best effort to gain control of his body and move away from you, and you could totally relate at that point, actually. You weren’t really sure why did you even stop him before. It just felt like the right thing to do but at the same time, it was the last thing you wanted to do.

“Haechannie—"

“I’m sorry,” he said, taking a step away from you and releasing you from his hold. You were surprised by the fact that you almost fell down to the floor when he wasn’t holding you.

“No, don’t be—it was, umm,” You cleared your throat. The collar of your knitted sweater suddenly felt too tight. “It was good.”

“Good?” Haechan asked, smirking as he raised an eyebrow and you thought fuck there’s that look again and you cursed inwardly a few more times for feeling so whipped for his little, seductive eyebrow raise. “I thought that was more than good, Noona.”

“Probably for you,” you wanted to tease but you could hear your voice crack at the end.

“Oh, really?”

And he kissed you again because he never wanted to lose his game. He knew he already had you wrapped under his fingers; he just wanted to make you succumb to him. To have you say how amazing his touches really felt on your skin because he was just that kind of a guy.

And he was winning. Your reaction was exactly the way he wanted you to be, arching your back under his touch, pressing your chest against his, tongue darting out to taste the inside of his mouth better and longer.

“No, wait, timeout.” You pushed him away again and you noticed that his hair was a mess from the work of your fingers and weirdly enough, it only made him ten thousand times hotter.

“Noona, you’re torturing me.” He whined against your shoulder, playfully biting the skin over your clothes. “Do you want me to stop or not?”

Haechan had the habit of whining when things didn’t go his way. It was immature and it would probably look childishly annoying on someone else, but it only made him  that much more adorable. Still annoying most of the time, but always adorable.

“I’m sorry.” You were torn between feeling bad or laughing about it because my God, look at that pout. “Maybe a five-minute break? I could make you some coffee. My roommate is away for the weekend.”

He sighed, the pout on his lips grew even more apparent. “You’re inviting me to your room? At this hour? After this?”

“I’m not going to have sex with you tonight, Lee Donghyuck, just to be clear.”

“Which is the more reason why you shouldn’t be inviting me over then!”

You laughed because his voice was becoming quite high-pitched. “Are you so incapable of using your brain instead of your dick?”

“Noonaaaaa~” He threw his head back in exasperation, which gave you the chance to ogle at the column of his throat. “Seriously, is torturing guys at the end of a date your sick hobby or something?”

“Look, if you stay over, we can still make-out.” You throw a smirk at him, unlocked your door and pushed it wide open. “And I make the most amazing coffee, trust me.”

“Fine,” he exhaled, walking into your room with a suppressed smile on his face. “And I’m only here for coffee, nothing more. Making-out with you is just a bonus.” And you found yourself giggling like a child as he cradled you into his arms and pushed you down to your bed because you both knew, it was the other way around.

***

About a month later, a similar situation happened again and there was no getting out of it.

It started with Haechan coming over to your room on a Sunday afternoon. Your roommate was staying over at her boyfriend’s place again for the weekend, so you had the room to yourself for the entire day. Haechan came unplanned and he’d brought his MacBook with him because, “I know myself well enough that I’d end up playing Overwatch instead of working on my assignment, so could you please be a responsible adult and force me to do my work even if I start crying at your feet?”

Haechan was always the dramatic one in your relationship but you nodded your head and let him in. You brought over some snacks and made him coffee like usual—which he always replied with, “Noona, I don’t want to sound like an ungrateful boyfriend but this coffee tastes like shi—” but was always finished with a pillow smacked to his face, a form of your courtesy.

You were working on your own papers too, sitting on the carpeted floor with your back pressed against the foot of your bed and a MacBook resting on your lap. Your textbooks were sprawled all over the place, and Haechan was lying down on your bed, head falling over the edge. He was looking at his phone, his thumb running up and down the screen.

“Noona?”

“Hmm?”

“I’m bored.”

“Aren’t you supposed to work on your assignment?”

“Finished it already.”

You threw a look over your shoulder, glancing to see him lounging on your bed as if it was his own. Haechan already had his MacBook closed, and was looking at you upside down with a completely bored look on his face. You knew he was smart, but you didn’t know he was that smart when he really put his mind to it.

“Well, that was fast,” you commented.

“No, you’re just doing it painfully slow.”

“Well, sorry for not being as smart as you,” you mumbled, even though you weren’t really annoyed about it. Haechan  huffed and walked closer, sitting closely right behind you, and trapping you between his legs.

“You’re the smartest girl I’ve ever met, though,” he said, wrapping his arms around your waist. “What are you working on exactly?”

“I don’t even know, honestly,” you sighed, leaning against his chest, dropping your head on his shoulder. “You wanna order some take-out?”

“Can I eat you for dinner instead?”

“Was that a sex joke, Lee Donghyuck?”

“Could be, if you’re interested.” You could see him wiggling his eyebrows from his reflection on your standing mirror. Both of you looked adorable, if you could say so yourself, wearing a matching white shirt (though not on purpose) and enjoying each other’s warmth with Haechan’s arms wrapped protectively around your figure. You sighed as you admired the sight of Haechan’s features in the mirror.

“Have I told you how sexy you look with your hair pushed back like this?” You asked, reaching out to touch some of his strands and he followed your gaze, looking at his own reflection in the mirror.

“Huh.” He seemed surprised. “It’s the first time you said that actually. What else do you think is sexy about me?”

“Promise you won’t get cocky about it if I tell you?”

“Can’t. You know how I am.”

You sighed but you succumbed to his wish. He praised you from time to time, it was only fair for you to do the same. “The way you dance.”

“You saw me dance?”

“Hm-hmm.”

“When?”

“That time when we went to Jaemin’s party. You were dancing to Billy Jean.”

“You saw that?!” He was flustered, scarlet painting his cheeks and ears. “That was—I thought you were in the bathroom!”

“Well, I was going to but then I saw you and kinda had to stop and stare for a little. You dance more with your hips than with your hands, do you know that? It was kinda hot.”

And just like that, the flabbergasted look on his face was immediately replaced with that Godforsaken cocky smirk again. “Were you turned on back then because of me?”

“A little. Or maybe I just really had to pee.”

“You should’ve said something, you know.”

“And then what? Have sex with you in Jaemin’s room? No freaking way.”

“We could’ve used my car. My hips could do so much more than just dancing, you know.”

“You’re disgusting.” You elbowed him slightly on the stomach to stop him from giggling, before you focused back on your MacBook. “Now, shoo, my boy. Mommy’s gotta work.”

Haechan had his chin on one of your shoulders. “But Noona~”

“I’m studying.”

“I’m bored~” He whined like the baby that he was, nuzzling his nose against the crook of your neck and you flinched slightly when his breath tickled your skin. “Can we make-out? Please pretty pleaseeeee~”

“Give me half an hour to finish this real quick—”

“Noonaaaaaaa~”

“What?” You were trapped between laughing and acting annoyed about it. “I seriously need to study. Didn’t you tell me to be a responsible adult for today?”

“You could also be a responsible adult by making-out with me though.” He chuckled to himself. “We could do adult things if you—”

“No,” you firmly stated though your smile kept on appearing on your face. You pushed a palm against his cheek, playfully shoving him away. “Now, go away, Dongsookie, I really have to study.”

“Fine,” he exhaled loudly against your shoulder and you could practically feel his pout growing on his face. He didn’t let you go, though. He kind of just sat there behind you, still circling his arms around your waist as he lazily stared at the words you were typing on the keyboard. You had trouble concentrating with the way you could feel every time he took in a breath from how close his chest was pressed against your spine but eventually you got the hang of it.

You were already working on your third page when Haechan suddenly had his lips on the side of your neck, lazily suckling on the skin until you could no longer ignore him.

“Haechannie.”

“Hmm?”

“What are you doing?”

“I’m playing a game,” he murmured against your skin, licking at the soft skin before he nibbled at it with his teeth. “It’s called how fast can I distract my girlfriend from working over a stupid assignment instead of spending time with me.”

“But I am spending time with you, though.”

“You know what I mean.”

And you had to bite your lip because he had a certain kind of pressure on his words that made your skin tingle in anticipation. His lips were soft but scorching hot as he drew bruises on your skin and it felt so good and dangerous at the same time. It was like standing on a bridge made of glass, both exciting and terrifying.

“You know what I think is sexy about you?” He quietly asked, one hand running down your body, slipping under your shirt and hovering dangerously close to your bra. “The way you say my name when we kiss,” he continued, adding a soft moan when he latched his lips around your earlobe.

You shivered, feeling heat growing on your cheeks. “Haechannie—”

“Yes, like that,” he chuckled, his voice suddenly became deeper. “You’re so sexy, you’re driving me insane.”

You tried your best to ignore him, you really did. But the second he had his warm mouth against your lips, his fingers grabbing your face almost forcefully to turn towards him, you just lost it and you found yourself crawling into his lap, tangling your legs around his waist and moaning against his mouth as he was against yours.

“Noona,” he sighed when you kissed down his neck, as if your every touch was a gift that he craved more and more. He shuddered slightly when you had your hand under his shirt and as if you just pushed the wrong button, he suddenly picked you up by the waist, shoved your textbooks away with one swipe of the back of his hand, and laid you down on the carpeted floor in one swift motion.

“If you keep doing that,” he breathed out heavily, eyes glazed as he stared at your kiss swollen lips. “I won’t be able to stop, even if you beg me to.”

You weren’t sure what came over you but you found yourself hooking your fingers around his necklace and brought his face down, whispering, “Then don’t stop,” directly against his lips.

It was all rush and passion and Haechan was not wasting even a second away before he began to undress you, removing each clothing very easily and you secretly wondered just how many times had he done this before from how smooth he unclasped your bra with one flick of his finger.

He pulled his shirt over his head, his silver necklace hanging loosely around his neck. “Tell me if I’m being too fast,” he said, before he climbed on top of you, throwing the piece of clothing away without a care. Your heart jumped at the sight of him, knowing how this could lead to something more but couldn’t really stop him. Not with the way he had his hands reaching down from the valley of your breasts, down to your stomach, his fingers brushing above the hem of your jeans.

His kiss was always breathtaking, to say the least, but it was a bit different this time because it felt like he was losing control of himself. His kiss was almost forceful, his teeth roughly nibbling at your lower lip before he moved down your chin and found his place in the crook of your neck again. His hand was on your chest, cupping you fully with his palm and let out this sexy groan when he felt you gasping his name against his mouth.

“Fuck, you’re just doing that on purpose now, aren’t you?” He hissed, eyes clouded with lust. He peppered kisses down your chest, lips hovering above your nipple when he said, “You’re being cruel, Noona.” You were tugging at his dark locks when he placed it between his lips, sucking at the sensitive spot, and you tried to hold back your moan but failing every time.

Haechan was giggling to himself, his tongue flicking around the bud. “The way you’re reacting to me is so cute. I didn’t know you were this sensitive.” He ran his tongue across his lower lip, staring at you like he wanted to ravish every part of you, which he probably did. “You’re so goddamn cute.”

“Haechannie.”

“Yeah?”

“I won’t be needing that kind of commentary ever again in the future, thanks,” you uttered, trying your best to focus on his touch and not his words because Haechan could be annoyingly talkative sometimes.

He chuckled again, moving along to land a few kisses on your stomach. “If you’re that sensitive here, how sensitive will you be if I touch you right over…” He trailed a finger down from your belly button to the edge of your underwear. His eyes twinkled gleefully before he rubbed your clit over your underwear. “…here?”

You gave your best strength to stay sane but Haechan’s giggle over your reaction only tortured you even further. “Stop playing around,” you hissed under your breath, pretty sure that you were blushing from ear to ear.

“Playing?” Haechan grinned tauntingly, “I’m being pretty serious, though.” He spread your legs, kissing the inner part of your trembling thigh before he hovered dangerously close to the point you could feel his breath down there. You couldn’t help but gulp in anticipation and Haechan knew that. He knew how much you wanted him to take off your underwear and eat you out like it’s his last meal.

But of course, being the little fucking devil that he was, Haechan only threw you his usual smirk and said, “You know I’d do anything for you, right, Noona? You just gotta beg for it.”

“No way.”

“Otherwise, I wouldn’t know.” He faked a pout. “I’m younger than you, you know. I need you to teach me these things.”

You reciprocated by kicking him right on his abs because as desperate as you were, there was no way in hell you were going to grovel at his feet, begging for him to please you. “All right, all right, I’m sorry, geez!” Haechan said, laughing as he successfully dodged two of your first kicks. Soon after, he grabbed your moving legs, carefully placed them on his sides and ran his hands slowly from your legs to your thighs. He took a long glance at your body, sighing like it was some kind of beautiful torture for him to take. “You don’t even realize how hot you are, do you?” He leaned closer and grabbed you by your chin, locking both of your gazes together. “Do you even know how hard I am right now because of you?”

It was a rhetorical question, clearly, because you could definitely tell how hard and hot he was pressing against you, even if his jeans and your underwear were still on the way.

“God, just—” you gasped when he slipped a knee between your legs, pressing it against your core. “Just stop being a fucking tease and fuck me already, Donghyuck.”

And he grinned against your skin. “Fucking finally.” You heard him say under his breath, before he carried you in his arms and moved you to the bed. It felt somewhat scary, how fast he was being, because you had only experienced sex once and it was the painfully awkward kind of sex with your high school boyfriend and you didn’t really have the chance to practice it with anyone else while it seemed to you, at this point, was clearly not the case for him.

Haechan had his eyes on you, all half-lidded with lust and passion, as he unbuckled the belt of his jeans and you had to gulp at the sight. He didn’t really have six-pack abs like Jaehyun—considering your boyfriend was quite an athlete during his senior days—but his shoulders were broad, his chest was toned, his stomach was lean and his skin, as it glistened slightly with sweat, was just absolutely breathtaking.

“Enjoying the view?” He asked, and you knew how he’d always been cocky in his entire life, but he’d never been this cocky. “You’re practically drooling.”

“I am not,” you retorted but you lacked confidence. Haechan grabbed a condom from the pocket of his jeans before he climbed back into the bed with his jeans unbuttoned.

“Why do you already have a condom with you?”

“Because I came prepared.”

“I thought you said you wanted to study.”

“Among other things,” he grinned against your lips and shushed down your next protest. “I will be studying your body, if you give me the chance.”

“That was so lame.” But even your insult couldn’t mask how nervous you sounded, especially when Haechan was settling himself between your legs again, fingers hooking around your underwear.

“Final chance if you want me to stop, Noona,” he said though it felt like it was almost impossible for him to stop. “I’m serious. After this, I won’t stop even if you cry.”

You swallowed your breath, heart thrumming loud against your chest. “Just do whatever you want,” you answered, almost too quiet for even your ears to hear but Haechan’s eyes gleamed in anticipation.

“That’s my girl,” he said, grabbing your thighs and spreading your legs apart before he leaned in to taste your mouth again. “I’ll be gentle, don’t worry.”

You realized you were holding your breath when Haechan wrapped the condom around his length and he had his eyes on you before he pushed in, asking with an unexpected low voice of his, “Ready?”

But he did not wait for an answer and you found yourself hissing when he pushed in, slowly at first and suddenly all at once. You twisted your fingers against the bed sheet, biting your lower lip because it hurt trying to adjust to his size and Haechan was a little bit lost in his own thoughts, muttering, “Fuck, you’re so tight,” under his breath, slightly throwing his head back out of pleasure. “Noona, you’re so fucking tight. Do you know that?”

He leaned closer to you, chest pressing against your breasts as he mouthed against the skin of your shoulder and slowly began to move his hips. “You all right?” He asked, making eye contact after a while and you shakily nodded your head, though the pain was still there. “Then I’ll move faster.”

You almost hit your head against your headboard when he suddenly picked up the pace, thrusting into you hard and deep; it knocked the breath out of your lungs. “Haecha—” you could barely speak at that point, arms clutching tight to his back, nails raking against his spine.

“Fuck,” he uttered between heavy breaths as he sat on his knees, holding both of your legs in the air, almost splitting your body in half and pushed deeper. “How the fuck do you feel this good, I—” he ended his sentence short, kissing your ankle instead, his eyes never leaving yours. “I wanna keep you—you’re so pretty like this, Noona—so fucking pretty—”

Haechan was always good with his words but at that time, he was making incoherent noises at the back of his throat, jumping from one sentence to another as if he was thinking about several things at once and he was running out of time.

“Haechan, wait—s-slow down—” You placed a hand on his shoulder, tears forming in your eyes. “You’re moving too fast—It hurts—”

Haechan was unfocused, but the last two words that slipped from your mouth brought him back to reality. He stopped almost immediately, looking at you with eyes searching your face. “Does it hurt?” He asked and you nodded, your body shaking a little bit. His gaze softened, cupping your cheek in his hand before he slowly pulled out of you. “I’m sorry, come here.” He cradled you into his arms, sitting down on the bed and helped you climb into his lap. “Maybe if we do it this way,” he said, wiping a tear from your eye with his thumb, “You’ll feel better?”

You could feel him twitching below you, the tip of his cock pressing against your folds. Haechan stayed true to his promise, he wasn’t going to stop even if you cried and that’s fine because you didn’t want him to.

“Take your time,” Haechan said, smiling gently in a way that was so not him that it made you feel weird. You could tell that he was trying to keep himself calm and composed even when all he wanted to do was to fuck you senselessly.

He pushed inside again, but let you take control of the pace this time. You slid down slowly, wincing slightly at the friction but it no longer hurt as much. Haechan was staring at you the entire time, unconsciously licking his lower lip when you slowly began to bounce on his lap.

“Kiss me,” he demanded and you did, sharing his breath and his moans, and tangling your hands in his hair. When he felt your body relaxing against him, he grabbed you by the waist and suddenly thrust forward, making you gasp and clenched your legs together.

“Fuck,” he moaned under his breath, hissing at how perfect you felt around him. “Noona, you can be mad at me as much as you want after this but for now let me just—” he groaned, furrowing his eyebrows at the feeling of him sliding in and out of you. “Just let me fuck you the way I want.”

And you found yourself thrown back to the bed with him thrusting into you deep and raw, faster and much more forceful than before. His nails were sinking into your skin from how hard he was holding you by your hips, keeping you still as he rocked his hips forward as hard and as fast as he liked. Expletives were falling from his lips between his low grunts and breathy moans and you couldn’t help but sob a little at how strong he was going. It felt painfully amazing, and you knew your body wasn’t making any sense, and it surprised you when your orgasm hit you like a wave, just a few seconds before he reached his. You honestly never thought that something so painful could also bring this much pleasure and you wanted to be mad at him but you couldn’t even find the energy to keep yourself up.

You fell down to the bed with Haechan toppling on top of you almost immediately, chest heaving fast as he tried to bring back some air into his lungs.

“Holy fucking hell,” he said, breathing heavily at the juncture of your neck. “That was so good. This is probably the first time I—”

“Haechannie.”

“Oh right, shit!” He immediately jumped away, giving you some space and gently placed his palm on the side of your face, checking your condition. “Are you okay? Are you hurt somewhere? Noona, I’m so sor—Yah!“

You pinched him by the nose, glowering at him with the little strength you have left and you didn’t let go even if he was tapping frantically against the back of your hand, asking for time-outs before you broke his bones.

Well, he said you could be mad at him all you want. It was time for him to face your wrath and it was not going to be pretty.

***

It wasn’t long until your name became a famous topic to discuss around the hallway too and it felt weird yet exciting at the same time, because it was true. You were dating Lee Haechan. And no matter how many times you had to convince yourself that it wasn’t solely your imagination, it still felt unreal.

Because Haechan was shining like the sun, and you couldn’t really shine as bright.

It suddenly felt like high school all over again when you’d once dated the Prom King, Jung Jaehyun, where people always talked behind your back, making comments about your face, or your body, or your attitude and how every aspect of your life did not fit the legendary high school prince that was Jung Jaehyun. It had gotten so much into your head that you had to break up with him, and hating yourself for over a year on how weak you’d become.

Dating Haechan was similar but different in the way he treated you. Jaehyun was too kind, not really saying anything back to anyone who said awful things about you and instead, just told you to not pay any mind about it. Haechan was much braver in saying the things that came to mind, so whenever he heard people talking trash about you, he would come up to them with words laced with venom. It was kind of childish, the way he got worked up rather easily, and even more childish when he continued to pout and fume about it even after a whole day had passed.

“Seriously, I said I’m fine,” you once said to him, entering his Hyundai after he opened the door for you.

“Well, I’m pissed off,” he said, unconsciously closing the door a bit too hard, making you flinch slightly. He walked to the other side of the car, sinking to his seat behind the wheel and exhaled loudly.

“Haechannie.”

“What?” His tone was still a bit harsh, but you knew he didn’t mean to shout at you.

“Thank you for defending me,” you softly said, reaching out for his hand. “But at this point, you’re gonna be mad with literally everyone and anger does not look pretty on you.”

“But aren’t you pissed, though? They literally have no business whatsoever to—”

“I know.” You squeezed his hand. “Look if it gets worse, we can always plan out something. There’s this perfect swamp I know outside of town.”

And Haechan couldn’t help but smile. Maybe he was right, that swamp thing could really be your thing. “You and your stupid swamp,” he muttered, shaking his head in amusement as he grabbed your face for a kiss. “Can we have sex at your place today?”

You sighed. It was always like this when it came to him.  “Sure, why not.”

Because certainly, you weren’t complaining.

***

[cafedanslanuit]

chapter guide | prev. chapter | next chapter | extra content

✖   —   chapter summary: after receiving a text from zeke, you go out to meet him, leaving porco behind. your head is full of questions and you're not quite sure how you're going to confront him about last night's events.

✖   —   pairing: porco/reader & zeke/reader

✖   —   chapter tags/warnings: college au, protected sex, zeke calls you a good girl, mentions and/or descriptions of parental emotional abuse/traumatic childhood, hurt/comfort, fluff, referenced cheating. 

✖   —   a/n: beta read by my friend @ofoceansandtombstones​ <3 the title of the chapter is a reference to “oh daddy” by fleetwood mac.

chapter two: oh daddy

The only sounds you could hear when you got to the tennis court Zeke asked you to meet at was the ball being hit with the rackets and grunts from the two blond men you were expecting to see. Even if Reiner was a part of the swimming team along with Zeke, he always indulged his friend into playing with him, especially in the early mornings.

Neither Zeke nor Reiner realized you were there, too focused on the game, so you walked to the bleachers and sat down, forearms resting on your knees and hunched back as you watched the game.

Reiner was one of your only friends that liked being around Zeke, which really baffled your mind as the only one who knew about your dirty laundry was Porco. Yet, even after two years of being together, Annie wouldn’t even try to start a conversation with Zeke the multiple times he was over at your place. Armin, being the sweetheart he was, tagged along with her, only saying hello or goodbye while making a beeline towards Annie’s room. Pieck, Marcel and Bertholdt also made sure to avoid interacting with him, each of them in their own ways.

You sighed, pressing the bridge of your nose. You didn’t have the time to worry about it that morning.

A hard hit from Reiner made Zeke miss the ball and turn around to retrieve it. This gave Reiner the chance to look around, waving at you when he noticed your presence. You gave him a small smile and waved back.

“Your girlfriend is here.”

Zeke turned around quickly, his grey-blue eyes finding yours. You hated how a smile crept up your lips even after the disastrous night you had spent. His boyish grin and friendly wave would always bring warmth to your chest, and that spoke about how much your heart still belonged to him.

Your eyes were so fixated on each other you didn’t notice Reiner chuckling softly at the way you were looking at each other. Walking around the court, he called up Zeke, startling him and shook his hand. You didn’t listen to what he was saying but after a short conversation, Reiner turned around, waving at you again and started walking out the court. Zeke gestured to join him and you nodded, getting up and walking to the court with your hands in your pockets.

The moment you stepped a foot inside the court, Zeke started walking to you and met you halfway. He grabbed your face and placed a kiss on your lips, humming happily to himself. You kissed him back half-heartedly, your hands still secure inside your pockets without an ounce of need to put them around his neck like usual.

“You look so beautiful,” he said once he pulled away, holding your face tenderly.

You gave him a strained smile.

“Why did you call me so early?” you sighed.

Zeke’s grin didn’t waver, instead pressing a kiss on your forehead.

“Give me a second,” he said excitedly, before turning around and walking to the backpack that was against the wall. He left his tennis racket next to it and, after rummaging for a short while, he came back holding a baseball and a glove in his hand.

With a hand on the small of your back, he guided you until you were on the edge of the court. He carefully put the glove on your hand and ran back to the other edge of the court, both of you staying just on one side of the tennis court.

There was a part of you that wanted nothing more than to throw the glove away, stomp on it and demand answers from him but Zeke’s eager smile was nothing like you had seen before. He was really excited about this and even if you weren’t sure as to why , you felt compelled to follow along.

Zeke threw the ball at you and you took a couple of steps back to catch it with your glove. You winced in pain, your muscles still mad at you for drinking so much last night. You threw the ball as hard as you could but it didn’t reach your boyfriend, instead falling to the ground. Without saying a word, he shortened the distance between the two of you and threw the ball again.

A silent game of catch started between the two of you under the morning rays of sun. Seeing how happy Zeke was made you remember why you had fallen in love with him in the first place. He only smiled like that when he was around you, a huge grin on his face and a small couple of wrinkles on each side of his eyes. It was completely different from the way he smiled in social events and you couldn’t help but feel your heart flutter knowing it was only you that could see him like this.

It had been almost two years since a junior that sat a few seats away from you at your History of Philosophy class had asked to take a look at your notes at the end of your second class. He confessed it was his third time taking the course as he has failed it twice already. It was his last chance to pass the course and he had seen you taking a lot of notes and answering questions right, hence he was asking for your help. You couldn’t help but giggle at the image of this tall junior asking for the help of a freshman but you agreed and even offered to help him prepare for the exam if he really needed it.

That was the first time he truly smiled at you. And since then you had been hooked.

From a hidden makeout session at the back of the library to him introducing you to his half-brother, you had suddenly become the ‘it couple’ on campus. Zeke always took you out to social gatherings along with his classmates, presenting you as his girlfriend and keeping an arm around your shoulders at all times, letting everyone know who you were with.

Time went by and he even took you to his grandparents’ house, a lovely old couple that lived on the edge of town. You had dinner with them and smiled as they went on and on about how much they loved and were proud of their grandson. As they told you endearing but slightly embarrassing stories about Zeke when he was a little kid, you couldn’t help but notice they didn’t mention his parents in any of the stories. When you went to the kitchen to help his grandmother bring the dessert you tried looking for a picture of his parents and didn’t find it either. But you knew better than to ask.

The conversation ran long and when you two noticed, it was already too late to drive back, so you both decided to stay at their house for the night. After his grandparents had gone to sleep, you sat in front of the chimney, sitting next to each other, your head on his shoulder and enjoying the soft music coming from his phone. Fleetwood Mac’s ‘Rumours’ album was one of Zeke’s favourite albums and it was slowly starting to become yours as well.

A sniffle distracted your thoughts.

You pulled away immediately, kneeling and holding his face tenderly. It seemed Zeke had been crying for quite some time now and your eyes filled with worry.

“Baby, are you okay? What’s wrong?” you whispered, your thumbs wiping the tears running down his cheeks to his beard.

“I miss him,” he mumbled.

“Your dad?” you asked softly.

Zeke shook his head and averted his gaze from you. You turned his head back to you again and pressed a kiss on his forehead.

“You can talk to me, Zeke. Stronger together, right?” you said with a soft smile. He reciprocated it with a small nod.

Words fell from Zeke’s mouth like a broken dam, tears falling from his eyes quicker than you were able to kiss them away. You listened to him in silence, your fingers running across his dark blond locks, trying your best to soothe him as he tripped over his own words, painting a picture of his childhood.

He told you about their parents and their strong alliance with a political party when he was a kid. How they would talk to him about the party’s history and why he should be on their side, often getting irritated at him for not remembering all the details. He blamed himself for being too young to understand, for not paying enough attention when they talked to him about it. When a chance arrived for him to apply to a scholarship for middle school in a very prestigious private school, both his parents registered him, saying he should study hard to get that scholarship so he could start talking about the political party to the sons and daughters of the high class, so more people could support them.

But Zeke had never been good at school. He reminded you the reason you had met was that he had already failed a course twice, only salvaging it because you tutored him. So when he was ordered to get that scholarship, he studied day and night, sometimes not even going to bed because he wanted to make his parents happy and going to school without having slept even for a minute. But his scores were still low, igniting long and loud fights between his mom and dad, making him silently weep inside his bedroom as he listened to how much of a disappointment he was.

“You’re not a disappointment,” you interrupted him. His eyes that had been set on the chimney turned to you and he lifted the corners of his mouth.

You knew he didn’t believe you.

“They were taken by the police a few days before my scholarship exam. Turns out the political party they were into was… a bit radical.” He didn’t comment further and you thought it was best not to ask for details. “So I came to live with my grandparents. I was enrolled in public middle school and got a sports scholarship to get into university, hence why I’m a part of the swimming team.”

“Are they still…” your question died in your lips.

“In prison? No,” Zeke sighed, taking his glasses off and passing a hand across his face. “They got out after a couple of years. My mom died in a car accident shortly after and my dad remarried Eren’s mom. He lives with her now. Honestly, she’s a very sweet woman, she has always been kind to me. I don’t know how she stands him,” he said with a small chuckle.

“Even so, it’s okay to miss him, you know? Families are… complicated. So it wouldn’t be wrong for you to miss him from time to time.”

“I meant I miss Ksaver,” Zeke said, a sad smile on his lips. He took your hand in his, playing with it absentmindedly. “He was my science teacher at elementary school. He noticed how much I was struggling and how little sleep I was getting. He offered to tutor me some afternoons and we always ended up playing catch for a while before I had to go home. I think I was only able to go by because I could always look for spending my afternoons with him. We kept in touch when I went to middle school and he was always willing to help me out whenever I needed help with my classes or with the girls,” he said, a chuckle escaping his lips. “He lent me his jacket for my first date and he was the one I told about my first kiss with a girl in high school.”

You smiled sweetly, squeezing his hand softly.

“I wish I could have introduced you to him. But he… died, a couple of weeks after I started uni. Cancer. I never knew,” he said bitterly, biting the inside of his cheek. “So being here, listening to my grandparents tell you stories about when I was a kid… just made me remember him, you know? And shit— I really miss him.”

That night when you went to bed, you made sure to hold him a little tighter as he laid his body on top of yours. The feeling of his beard scratching your skin as he kissed your neck made you claw your nails on his muscular back. The room was filled with the sweetest breathy moans as you tried your best to be silent so you didn’t wake his grandparents up.

He pressed a long kiss on your lips before getting off of you, rummaging through his pants and trying to find a spare condom in his pockets. You waited as he put it on, fingertips gently tracing his forearms as a subtle reminder you were still there. Zeke hovered over you with a loving smile, his grey-blue eyes locked in yours making you feel as if you were the only woman he had ever even glanced at.

He slid into you, your lips parting as your body adjusted to his length. He started at a calm pace, his pelvis rubbing just right against your clit, making you see stars every time he moved. You held tightly on his muscular arms, moving your hips as you desperately craved for more.

It wasn’t long until he was pulling out of you, turning you on your stomach and thrusting inside of you again. It didn’t surprise you, he had always shown a preference for fucking you from behind.

Zeke’s hands were holding your waist tightly while he kept bucking his hips against you, his hot breath tickling your ear. The low grunts coming out of his mouth as he buried himself in you were all you could think about as you muffled your moans on the pillow. His fingers were digging on your skin, for sure leaving marks for you to find the next day, a hobby you had grown fond of ever since you started sleeping with Zeke. He was relentless, hips rutting against you without mercy, each thrust getting deeper and deeper inside of you.

“Shit, you give it so good to me, baby,” he grunted, bitting down on your shoulder. You whimpered, closing your fists on the sheets as you tried to arch your back even more to him. “Yeah, just like that— such a good girl to me.”

The way he increased his rhythm for a few seconds and then stilled behind you let you know he has reached his high. You felt as he rolled away from your body, lying on your side with a content smile, lips parted as he tried to regain his breath. You smiled softly at him and caressed his cheek with your knuckles.

Maybe it was a stretch, but you wished to have the power to stop him from ever getting hurt again. You wanted to protect that smile at all costs, not even letting the cold air touch him or anything that could ever threaten his well-being again. It was at that moment that you decided you would make sure he was the happiest man he could be as long as you were there.

As you saw Zeke smile as he threw the baseball, you remembered your vow. He was really the prettiest when he smiled. After your last throw, he caught it and gestured to you to come closer. He kissed you once again and this time you melted in his touch, the familiar taste of his lips taking you back to that night in front of the fire. He put the glove and baseball into his backpack and took your hand, placing a small kiss on the back of it.

“C’mon. Let's get breakfast.”

Finding an isolated spot on campus was easy, both of you sitting down under a tree. On your way there, Zeke had bought a couple of juice boxes from a vending machine and once you had gotten comfortable on the ground you realized he had packed a couple of sandwiches for both of you. You took one and smiled at him as a thank you.

“Have you thought about trying out for the baseball team? Bet you would do great there,” you commented, taking your first bite.

“I… I honestly haven’t played in forever,” Zeke said, shaking his head. “Hell, I hadn’t played like this since Ksaver died.”

“What changed?” you asked softly.

“Found this baseball while looking through my tennis stuff this morning as I was leaving to play with Reiner. So I brought them with me because…” he made a pause, looking down at his sandwich. “I wanted to play with you. I wanted to— to share this with you. You know how much it means to me and I couldn’t think of anyone else I wanted to do this with after all these years.”

You smiled at his words and right when you were leaning to kiss him, the memory of Yelena leaving his house hit you. Right. You had seen them, how had you forgotten about this?

Zeke noticed the way your smile dropped and furrowed his eyebrows in concern.

“I saw her kissing you,” you said, in a makeshift stern voice. Zeke’s frown deepened.

“What?”

“Yelena. I saw you kissing Yelena last night when she left your house,” you said, the pressure on your chest making it hard to talk. You took a deep breath, trying to alleviate it.

“Wait, wait, last night? Where were you?” he asked, confused.

“I— a few houses away. I wanted to say hi but I saw her and— I saw you two kissing, Zeke, aren't you going to say anything?” you demanded, your voice breaking at the end.

“Baby, I was confused as to why you were saying this because we didn’t kiss. I have never kissed Yelena in my life.”

“Zeke, I saw you,” you said in a pained voice. “I fucking saw you and—”

“Wait, was that why you called?” he interrupted you. “I’m sorry, baby, I really am. I’m just having trouble understanding because we never kissed. The closest thing to that happening was Yelena kissing my cheek goodnight and that’s it.”

“But I—”

“You just said you were a couple of houses away. Don’t you think you could have confused a friendly kiss on the cheek with her kissing my lips? As if I would ever let her,” Zeke said, taking a sip of his juice. “She knows how much I’m in love with you. Hell, I’ve even told her how I plan to marry you once you graduate.”

You felt your cheeks heating at his words and then immediately shook your head, trying to focus.

“Porco saw you too.”

At this, Zeke’s calm expression turned into a disgusted one.

“Baby, please,” he sighed, rolling his eyes. “Porco will say anything to get you away from me. You know he’s in love with you, right?” he asked. You averted his gaze, looking down at your sandwich. “He’s so obvious about it. He’ll say anything to make you doubt your relationship with me enough for him to get a chance. Bet he kept insisting on you leaving me after you mistakenly believed Yelena kissed me last night.”

Memories of Porco’s arms around your body and his hazel eyes looking at you as he kissed your palm crept inside your head, guilt leaving a bitter taste in your mouth. Zeke was right. You were a few houses apart and all you had seen was her kissing the corner of his mouth, never a full kiss on the lips. And on top of that, you had been drinking a lot. There was a big chance you had perceived the moment differently and… Porco had definitely egged you on your distrust.

“You did nothing wrong,” Zeke assured you, taking one of your hands in his. “You trust people too much, you’re too good. But please don’t believe Porco’s intentions are innocent in any way.”

You nodded, keeping your head down. At this, Zeke scooted over to your side, grabbing your face gently and kissing your forehead. You smiled at his action and lifted your face until your lips met. A chaste kiss was exchanged, making the both of you smile.

“I’m sorry for… insisting on this but can I ask you something else about last night?” you asked in a small voice.

Zeke nodded. “Sure, anything that will make you feel better.”

“Why was Yelena with you last night? Why did she leave so late?”

“Yelena was going through a rough time, stuff with her family and the fact she likes girls,” Zeke explained, biting down on his sandwich. “Her family is very religious so it’s… a touchy subject. She needed to talk and we did just that— talk until she was feeling better.”

You nodded, still with a small frown on your face.

“But I asked you, I— I called you and I asked if the movies were fun by yourself.”

“And I told you I always preferred watching movies alone,” Zeke reminded you. “I didn’t lie, I really do. I’ve told you this before. Besides, I didn’t just want to air out her business. It was private for a reason.”

“But her Instagram—”

“Darling, don’t mind her. Please, as far as I know, she could have made that post in case her family saw it. She’s not even out on campus, so… I don’t know,” he shrugged. “But don’t think about it too hard. She’s my friend but trust me when I say she’s not worth your time.”

You felt stupid. So damn stupid for ever believing Zeke was cheating on you. All of Yelena’s Instagram photos made so much sense now that you knew she was trying to present herself as straight. Surely you would have preferred her to use any other guy than your boyfriend but… it just made sense. Since Zeke was the only one that knew about her sexuality, she made sure not to foolishly lead him on since he knew it was all a charade.

And the fact Zeke wasn’t asking about Porco— God, you didn’t deserve him. You had just admitted to being outside with Porco at three in the morning and he hadn’t batted an eye. He didn’t need proof or to interrogate you to trust you would never cheat on him.

“Stop worrying your pretty head around it. We’re good, okay?” he assured you, nudging your shoulder playfully. “Let's just forget about this whole thing, okay?”

“Okay,” you smiled.

Zeke took one last bite of his sandwich, shaking his hands to get rid of the crumbs. He scooted until his back was against the tree and pulled you by your wrist, content in how you were giggling as he set you between his legs, with your back on his chest.

“Thank you for meeting me this early without notice. When I found Ksaver’s baseball I just knew I wanted to share that moment with you,” he said, resting his chin on your shoulder and putting his arms around your waist. “I’m so weak when it comes to… remembering things from my past. But I know I can always count on you. You’re so much stronger than I am. Always have been.”

Your mind went back to Porco pushing you away after you tried to kiss him just a few hours ago.

“I don’t know about that,” you whispered.

“But you are. And that’s one of the reasons I’m so in love with you,” he smiled, pressing a kiss on your shoulder. “One of the reasons I plan to ask you to marry me as soon as you graduate. We’re stronger together, remember?”

Your heart fluttered at his words.

“Yes,” you nodded with a soft smile .”We are.”

[ignisaeri]

~

At that time, all Alatus could hear was the howling of the wind, and the screams of the Yakshas as they waged war against their karmic debts.

A blaze of crimson flame splits the night sky as the Pyro Yaksha shrieks, clawing desperately at scarlet locks of hair with bloodied fingernails, trying to rid herself of demons only she can see. Her eyes flash with the light of a thousand stars as she throws her head back, pleading with the darkness in ragged gasps to leave her, to go somewhere where they could not haunt her. She’s still begging as she dies.

~

The Geo Yaksha rests his foot against the Hydro Yaksha’s abdomen, using her still body as leverage to draw his sharpened blade out from between her ribs. His eyes stare into the distance, unseeing, pupils clouded over with an inky black, fingers twitching as they hold the weapon that had killed one of his oldest friends. The Hydro Yaksha only lays quietly, death caressing her form with its bony fingers, the pool of water beneath them tinged pink from blood.

~

The Electro Yaksha falls to his knees, gaze finding Alatus’ one last time, seemingly apologizing for leaving the Anemo Yaksha alone for eternity. His slender hands float over the blade embedded in his chest, then collapses onto his side as his last breaths leave him, currents of violet electricity flickering out into nothing. He dies silhouetted against the blackness of The Chasm, as silent as the sun creeping over the horizon, even as the battle rages endlessly around them.

~

Rex Lapis gazes at Alatus with such pity, such sadness, before smiling hesitantly, gold eyes meeting the Yaksha’s.

‘Sit, Ever Vigilant Yaksha. The archon war is over. Let us share a cup of osmanthus wine.”

“Alatus, I free you from your duty as a Yaksha. In the fables of another world, the name Xiao is that of a spirit who encountered great suffering and hardship. He endured much suffering, as you have. Use this name from now on.”

“Yes, Morax.”

~

The God of Freedom seeks him out one evening, when he’s resting quietly near the edge of a cliff, feet dangling restlessly off the side, imagining the faces of the lost Yakshas floating through the clouds. Barabatos’ braids glow a gentle forest green, and he inclines his head slightly towards Xiao as he nears.

“Alatus, correct?”

“Xiao,” the adeptus corrects him.

“Xiao,” Barbatos says, “Rex Lapis told me of you.”

~

“It was you with the flute, was it not?” Xiao tells Barbatos as they watch the workers construct a massive statue in Liyue’s center, honoring the late Tianquan. Ningguang’s placid face smiles down at them as the workers dust the marble, freeing it from dust and grime.

Venti bobs his head, gaze never straying from where Rex Lapis (now Zhongli) stands with arms folded, gaze dark. With Ningguang gone, the last of the Liyue Qixing has perished.

“Yes,” Venti says. “I saved you that day.”

~

Tonight, they drink, in honor of the dead. Zhongli gingerly holds a glass of osmanthus wine, a glaze lily tucked into his hair. “To Guizhong,” he says. “Havria, Ningguang, and Tartaglia.”

Venti hiccups, face the color of an overripe tomato, the glass of dandelion wine tipping dangerously in his grip. “To the children of Mond,” he choruses. “To the Ragvindr brothers, to Jean, to Lisa, to Noelle. To Klee!”

Baal is here tonight too, and she leans forward restlessly. “To Kujou Sara,” she adds. “To Kitsune, Chiyo, and to Sasayuri.”

Tonight should be solemn, Xiao thinks, as they list the names of their dead companions. Yet, nearly five hundred years after the last of them passed, he feels nothing but contentment.

Xiao raises his own glass. “To the traveler and his sister,” he says. “And to the Yakshas”.

~

Xiao watches as Venti’s fingers dance, weaving an enticing melody through the hollow sounds of his flute. He’s sitting against a rock, the cool water of the stream lapping at his ankles, washing against the outcropping where Venti stands, a face full of bliss as he plays.

The song is one that Xiao wished to hear, one that he had first heard from the cart of a passing merchant shortly after the end of the Archon War.

The notes seem to float away into the air as he listens, chasing away the darkness in his soul, and he closes his eyes, reveling in this small moment of peace.

~

Sometimes, when Xiao sleeps, he dreams. He dreams of a woman wreathed in fire, eyes burning tears down her cheeks. He dreams of a not-truly-there man, standing with his blade buried in the chest of a woman floating limp in blood-tinged water. He dreams of purple lightning dying as a man takes his last breaths deep within The Chasm.

~

He knows, of course, that he cannot run forever. One day, he will become engulfed by his karmic debt, like the Pyro Yaksha, or go mad and disappear, like the Geo Yaksha.

That day comes sooner than he thinks.

~

Liyue is burning. The city is just as Xiao remembers, a perfect place of beauty. If he concentrates, he can still barely remember the night of the Lantern Rite, thousands of years ago. He closes his eyes and wishes to see the light of a hundred lanterns, instead of the light of fire the buildings shudder and succumb to the roaring flame.

Zhongli stands in front of him, something akin to pain in his gaze, one arm thrown to the side to keep Venti from rushing forwards. The Anemo Archon’s eyes are wide and wild, hat askew and bow grasped in shaking hands. Baal stands straight, weapon drawn, sorrow dotting her gaze.

Fontaine’s archon, the God of Justice, flits around the backdrop of burning flame, hurriedly trying to save as much of Liyue as she can. Her hands wave, spilling waves of water over the temples and buildings, undoing the damage that Xiao caused. The Dendro and Pyro Archons are busy, pulling screaming mortals from the wreckage and destruction.

Three torches and three exploding barrels, compiled with Xiao’s anemo attacks, had set all of Liyue aflame.

There is distant screaming in Xiao’s ears, sounds he knows only he can hear. Deliriously, he recalls the Pyro Yaksha howling at non-existent demons millennia ago and wonders absently if the same will afflict him.

The karmic debt has finally taken over, and it seems to favor the path the Geo Yaksha had taken. Xiao almost laughs as he realizes this, feeling trapped within his skin as he wields his polearm, pointed unwaveringly at the archons.

“I am sorry,” he rasps. There is darkness at the edge of his sight, and the screams only intensify. He can hear individual voices now, hissing and howling and wailing, crying for mercy and death and blood.

“Do not apologize,” Zhongli says. “It is not your fault.”

“What is this?” Venti gasps, the sound echoing in Xiao’s ears. “Xiao, what is happening?”

Baal answers for him. “It is the fate of a Yaksha.” Electricity begins to crackle around her shoulders, eyes darkening to violet as she calls the power of the storm.

Xiao wants to weep at how much she reminds him of the Electro Yaksha.

Maybe, he muses, he will see his fellow Yakshas again. Maybe he’ll meet Aether and Lumine too, in the place that lies after death. He may finally meet those who used to belong to Mond, the ones that Venti talks of so adoringly.

Zhongli finally draws his polearm, an earthen pillar appearing before him, casting protective gold around the archons. Xiao knows why.

He can feel the wind gusting around him, responding to calls he does not remember sending out. Leaves swirl in the gale, and trees rip their way out of the ground. The pain in his head intensifies as the number of screaming voices triple.

Xiao meets Zhongli’s gaze. Sometime, somehow, over the years, the archons had become his closest confidants. Yet, Zhongli was always his oldest companion, so now, Xiao asks Zhongli to do the impossible.

“Morax,” he croaks, using a name that hasn’t been spoken for ages. “You must.”

Zhongli’s gaze is pained, yet resolute, and that is how Xiao knows that Morax will kill him to save the world. Baal seems to sense this too, and lightning strikes the ground not too far away, anxiously awaiting her command.

It is only Venti who has not yet seemed to grasp the situation. He frowns at both archons. “What must you do, Zhongli?”

Zhongli only shakes his head, and Xiao knows it pains him to be the one who will have to kill the last Yaksha. So he answers Venti, limbs shaking as he desperately tries to contain the whirlwind threatening to tear from his chest.

“He must kill me. If he does not, I fear I will destroy Teyvat. I have lost control over my body, Venti.”

Barbatos’ eyes flash green, and Xiao is yet again reminded of the power of the archons. “No,” he says simply. “You cannot die. To live for thousands of years, to drink with us, all this time? You cannot die like this.”

Xiao loses concentration, just a tiny sliver, yet the gust of wind that tears from him shears the top off of a nearby mountain. He groans, harnessing the gale yet again, even as the action forces him to his knees.

“Morax,” he says again. “Please.”

Zhongli looks at him, and the archon’s eyes are glistening in the light of the dancing flames, as wind whips his hair into his face.

“Alatus,” he says, and his voice is full of hurt and resignation. “It has been an honor.”

Yes, Xiao wants to answer back, but he cannot force his mouth to move. He just nods, shaking his head as if he can jar the wailing into silence.

Venti starts towards Zhongli, power thrumming at the edges of his fingers, seemingly ready to resort to battle in order to prevent Xiao’s death, and that is when Baal moves. She slams into Venti, pushing him into the ground, even as wind starts to whirl around them - Venti’s magic, not Xiao’s. Her element locking curse comes a second later, binding itself around Venti, even as he hisses at her in protest.

“Xiao,” Venti cries, twisting as if he can escape the curse. His hat is lost, blown away in the wind, and his hair has come loose from its braids, flying around his face.

“Barbatos,” Xiao whispers. “I never thanked you, for saving me that day.”

Venti pauses, for a second, stunned into silence.

“Thank you,” Xiao says, over the voices in his head. “Thank you.”

Baal only looks at him solemnly, and Xiao stares back at her. They exchange no words, but Baal just nods, once, the simple gesture conveying everything he needs to know.

Xiao holds her gaze for a few more seconds, turning back to find the point of Zhongli’s spear resting above his heart.

Zhongli's face is twisted in grief, yet his blade still hits true, sliding into the hollow space between Xiao's third and fourth ribs.

Xiao chokes, the whirl of wind around him finally dying out. His legs buckle and he falls ungraciously, feeling gentle hands grasping at his clothes as he does.

Somewhere, Venti is screaming his name.

The wailing inside his skull is dissipating, and near the edges of his sight, Xiao can make out swirls of color. At first, he thinks they are the archons, and his failing body cannot see the details of their faces. Then, he recognizes a blue that does not belong to those in the present.

“Rest,” Zhongli whispers, as Xiao fades. “Rest, Alatus.”

And Xiao does, letting himself fall into the embrace of the Yaksha's, who are only becoming clearer, even as Xiao dies.

~

637 years later, a scholar strolls through the bookshelves of Sumeru's most famous academy, searching for a piece of information that could support her thesis.

She turns into a lane labelled Mondstadt: The City of Freedom, and begins to scan the titles, careful to replace everything exactly where she finds it.

There are two other travelers within the small space between the bookshelves, and they're talking to each other, quite loudly.

The scholar frowns. No matter how foreign these travelers are, the rule of silence in a library should be universal.

The first traveler, a tall man with golden eyes and umber hair that falls to his lower back flips another page in his book, completely ignoring his companion. A jade spear is strapped across his back, and the scholar thinks idly that the weapon looks more like a piece of art, with great wings of green jade shattering outwards from the main spike.

The tall man's companion is quite short, with yellow cat like eyes and evergreen tufts of hair, a pink pearl necklace slung loosely around his throat. His boyish grin seems quite misplaced.

It only takes the scholar a few moments to figure out why.

A few months ago, the scholar had studied ancient folklore of Liyue. Among them was a tale of several Yakshas, the last of whom had supposedly been buried beneath a statue of himself, on the highest peak in Liyue.

The man standing before her looks exactly the same as the grainy photo in the text. However, in the scroll of lore, the last Yaksha had worn a fierce scowl across his features, nothing like the one that stands before her now.

"Come, Zhongli," the should-be-dead Yaksha says, tugging on his friend's sleeve. "Baal is waiting for us."

"Baal can wait a while longer," the taller man says, turning the page of his book a while longer, which the scholar now sees is a copy of The Ruling System of Mondstadt: Grandmasters and Cavalry Captains.

"You said you wanted me to learn more about Mond, didn't you?" the taller man continues. "Besides, I am quite intrigued as to exactly who this 'Kaeya' is, the one you keep referencing."

The yaksha frowns. "Kaeya," he says. "Diluc's brother."

At his companion's blank stare, the yaksha says. "I'll remind you later," he chides. "We really must be going, Zhongli."

The scholar startles, embarrassed that she eavesdropped for so long. However, she still hears what the tall man says back.

"Fine. Let us go, Venti."

[sanzu-sanzu-sanzu]

pretty sad

Rindou Haitani X Original Character

—

(author’s note) just a brief life update hahaha so i started listening to olivia rodrigo’s ‘sour’ album for the first time yesterday and i just fell in love with it so hard. anyway, this was just a short scenario i thought up while i was at the cashier this morning lol. 

for this one, i mostly borrowed the lyrics from déjà vu. it’s an au where this song with these lyrics exist, not necessarily an olivia rodrigo ahaha because this happens in 2005 ish when the haitani’s are 18-20. i don’t know what to make of this i just needed to write it down. so yeah, i hope you enjoy!

—

Rindou Haitani doesn’t quite catch her name but then again his mind doesn’t think of much else the moment he hears her voice. It’s the melody that first gets his attention, and then suddenly a voice so clear and so sad it strikes a...bone or a muscle or a nerve that he was never aware he even had. He looks up in the same manner one might feel compelled to look over a weeping person’s face, to search for a source for this voice full of hurt and the silent sounds that just reach out.

Across the room, in the low light of the bar and in the midst of the silent crowd, she sits with one leg tucked underneath her on the floor of the slightly elevated stage, her long skirt almost fanning out. One hand clutching the microphone, another on her side, tracing soft patterns in the air like she’s running her hand in water. She softly sways along with the tune and Rindou swears he’s never seen a girl look so peaceful and alone.

And beautiful.

He finds himself longing to see the color of her eyes and he ends up staring long enough to wait for her to open them. And when she does, he is the first thing she sees, across the tables and in the dim booth that sees everything, her mouth curling to form the words and Rindou almost swears he’s the boy she’s singing about.

I bet she’s bragging To all her friends, saying you’re so unique, hmm So when you gonna tell her That we did that too?

“Damn, who hurt her?”

Ran’s slightly amused chuckle cuts through his attention like a knife and it takes Rindou half-a-second longer to think that it’s not them. Because if there’s anybody in the vicinity getting hurt and being put in their right places it’s more likely one of the Haitani brothers’ own doing. He blinks; Ran meant a different kind of hurt.

That was our place, I found it first I made the jokes you tell to her when she’s with you Do you get déjà vu when she’s with you?

He’s heard this song too many times in the radio, but at this moment and in this place it’s hers and Rindou is unable to tear his eyes away. Ran is saying something at the other end of the couch but he’s not paying attention.

‘Cause let’s be honest We kinda do sound the same Another actress I hate to think that I was just your type

“Did you catch her name?”

Ran tilts his head to his brother’s direction and Rindou is able to pinpoint the moment Ran decides to play coy.

“Hm?”

“Her name. Did you hear it?” He says as if bored. “Haven’t seen her around here before.”

It’s funny how his and his brother’s minds work. Something about Ran’s brief side-eye glance and the knowing smirk on his lips simultaneously tell Rindou three things: that his brother did hear her name, that Ran can somehow tell that he okay, maybe slightly badly wants to know, and that Rindou is not gonna get it out of him today without suffering some teasing.

He quietly sighs even before Ran opens his mouth.

“I did.” And then just leaves it at that.

Rindou relaxes back against his seat, eyes effortlessly darting back to the center of the room and finds her.

Well, it’s no problem, he thinks. He’ll have tomorrow night and many more nights to see her again.

Do you get déjà vu when she’s with you?

[cosmiclatte28]

Amnesia (Jaehyun x reader)

tw : amnesia, crazy parents, drunk driver accident, failed attempt to write an angst

a/n : hello, so I read this work I left since December 2020 but yeah I read this and turns out I want to know if this is interesting enough to have another chapter to finish the story or not. If not then it's okay I'll just leave it here, but if you're curious I can try work it out.

tagging @charmingyong @neopalette .. @yutahoes and @swagmonsterofficial who can probably help me with the writer's block . you too readers. help me finish this story :))) thxxx

The thing you fear the most in this life is the day where you lost your memories. Memories of everything important in your life. You've been so afraid of not remembering things, mostly because the doctrine of your parents planted inside your brain.

"Look at your brother, Doyoung, he aces all of his tests, have time to do sports, sings well, proper manners, and always practicing doing his best. You too should think of being like him."

For sixteen years you're always compared to him. For sixteen years you worked your brain off to memorize extended classes you were forced to take. For sixteen years you faked your identity in order to look smart. For sixteen years you pray with all your might nothing bad will happen to you that involves a reset button to your brain.

That day happened, on your last year of high school where you've prepared yourself for the national entrance test. You've forced your brain to memorize everything, maximizes all you know since young age, and even pushed your other desires aside (not that it is new, you never put your desire first)

You start preparing it one year prior

"Don't go too hard (y/n)... I know you can do this," your boyfriend (secret boyfriend) calls you when he checks on you.

"Oh Jaehyun-ah, as much as I want to slack off there is no way I'll live in peace if I score lower than Doyoung's." You reply him as you flip through some sets of questions.

Jaehyun sighs from the other end of the call "And your brother scored perfect?"

You hum "Actually yes he did."

"Did your parents really love you? Why are they torturing you this way... I remember playing when I was younger and yet I made it to this stage." The young future psychologist boasted.

Jaehyun is actually the same age as your brother, he is Doyoung's friend and he knew you from visiting Doyoung back then in high school. He secretly learns about your name and even your number, since then he's been calling you and giving you all the love, you could never get from your family.

"I study psychology and what they're doing is not good." Jaehyun lays down on his bed. As much as he questions himself why he wanted to date you he can't answer it.

His friends had been telling him to break up with you because you're just going to make his life hard since your parents went too hard on you. But his heart screams that he needs to help this little girl he secretly feels bad. Jaehyun saw you sitting on your room sticking your nose to a book he thought was a middle school's book... when you were just graduating elementary. He was pretty sure you're not happy and even Doyoung secretly spills the hidden feeling that he doesn't like seeing his sister treated that way.

He remembers the conversation he had with his bestfriend on that summer vacation

"Make it stop then Doyoung..." jaehyun said as he played with a soccer ball inside the big room.

Doyoung sighed "I tried Jae, but mom and dad didn't seem to listen. They just told me they wanted the best for (y/n) and that by pushing her she'll find her way to be successful."

Jaehyun snorted "Gosh I'm glad my parents are not like yours."

Doyoung massaged his nose bridge "I even tried messing up my scores, but I earned myself detention and she was told to never be like me. Look I tried rebelling, but they're not fazed."

Jaehyun rolled his eyes "Want to escape to my house? Take (y/n) too maybe..."

Doyoung buried his face on his hands "Oh I wish Jae! I am also hating this, but I'll be dead and if this involves (y/n) I'm double dead because," Doyoung fixed his posture and mimicked his parents "Doyoung you're the brother here, a gentleman will always protect a lady and (y/n) is your sister and she's a girl."

"Damn it. Jae, I need that scholarship!" Doyoung groaned.

Jaehyun nodded "The one offering a seat in USA? Go for it. I didn't see why you hesitated... with that brain you didn't need to study and still get perfect."

Doyoung went silent for a minute "But won't I just make her life harder? Who will help her if I am not here?"

Jaehyun snickered "As if you have been helping her at all... take that chance. I'll look after (y/n) she's already like my little sister."

Doyoung couldn't thank Jaehyun enough when he hugged his friend before leaving to the states.

Doyoung hugged you too and secretly whispered "Jae is my substitute, please please promise me you will be honest with him and tell him whatever you're feeling. I'll see you in the states! Girl this is your chance to leave the dark alley." Doyoung wiped your tear that left your eyes. Well Your brother has been secretly sneaking from his room to teach you things you still cannot understand when you're younger. He kept on apologizing for the situation you both live in... but you can't totally blame him too. In this life if someone asked you who were the most important person, you'll say it's Doyoung then Jaehyun.

In the meantime

"Look Jae, I need that scholarship... Doyoung is waiting for me. He's been telling me life is not that gloomy." You sound so hopeful and Jaehyun doesn't want to spoil your small happiness.

He sighs "Fine, you've learned enough! Please a good rest is also important."

"Yeah yeah say that to my parents and see if you got slapped." You giggled and Jaehyun noted that. Well he had been noting your behaviour too and planned to make you his first journal subject.

"Look I love you okay, don't tire yourself too much. Drink water, stay healthy and sleep." He bids you goodbye and little did you know that was probably the last night you could sit in your room and absorbed new materials inside your brain.

For the next day when you got home from school, you never made it back home. You did not remember anything, only a loud horn and your body hitting the asphalt. Your ear rang and your eyes went dark.

Your parents were crying when they heard the news of you getting hit by a car and it was a drunk driving accident. Jaehyun left his class when Doyoung texted him about you. Well Doyoung was called in the middle of the night and he was more than broken hearted to hear this.

Jaehyun was shocked when he heard the news, but he was more shocked when he sees your parents are there weeping like how parents love their children so much and super afraid of losing them.

He wonders why they would treat you so strict if they love you this much. Well some people say that is their way of showing love, but for rational people Jaehyun disagree how hard your parents were on you and your brother.

Your mother recognized Jaehyun and explained everything that happened.

Jaehyun's heart broke when the paramedics informed them on the next day that you got the amnesia.

Your parents cried maybe because it is the natural way to act, but Jaehyun's world collapsed when he remembered you telling him the worst thing you fear is waking up with a blank brain.

It took you some days to wake up from your coma, considering that you also had some broken bones and some operations are done on your body, Jaehyun's glad you woke up four days after the accident.

He saw it the first time you open your eyes and you squinted all around he saw the slight tremble you had in your eyes.

Though he's not sure if you have amnesia you could remember fearing this to happen, but he believed your heart remembered this fear and showed how scared you are.

The doctor ran the first test and you happened to know basic things like your name and at least your parents. You know their faces but not their names and Jaehyun, it took you some time but the glint of hope in your eyes was enough to let Jaehyun feels not left out.

"Jae" you whisper, and the doctors were delighted when you could mention his name.

Your parents were crying, feeling super sad that their daughter had to go through this but once you got a time alone with Jaehyun you couldn't cry nor can you laugh.

"Jae," that is all you can think of.

You move your hands and find them fascinating. Jaehyun wanted to cry, it's as if you're a baby discovering new things you can do again. This is the same girl who understand chemistry even when she's just eleven! The girl who speaks five languages fluently, the same girl who can play the hardest piano piece, the same girl who was forced to be perfect and she did it she was perfect but she lost everything she worked super hard for.... within one blink of an eye. For the first time after several years, Jaehyun cried his heart out in silence alone in his bedroom.

For two months you were on a therapy session to regain your memories and some of them are coming back. Jaehyun took a break on his school, saying he is doing a research (well he didn't lie) but mostly because he needs to and wants to take care of you. He didn't want your parents to ruin this golden chance of him fixing you (he wishes)

"Name?" Jaehyun asks every time he visited you. You could answer that easily "(y/n)"

"Siblings?" You could also answer that "Doyoung."

It took you sessions to find a trigger word that could bring more memories back.

"Books?" The doctor once asked and you blanked out. Your body shakes and the traumatic experience of being forced to read from a young age came into you.

"Books?" The therapist asks again when you kept quiet. Jaehyun sits next to you, holding your hand and he frowns when your grip tightens.

"Hell." Was all you say before clenching your fist and holding your head from throbbing so much.

You woke up on your private room already Jaehyun happens to be writing down the notes from today's session.

"I saw some memories Jae. What month is this?" You asked out of the blue

"No don't ask me questions. Rest (y/n)" Jaehyun tried to divert your attention.

"Month Jae!" You scream and right on time a nurse came in she heard your question and easily answered “November?"

You count and stared in horror "The test... 8 months left Jae! How can I memorize what I've learnt since baby to now?!"

The nurse was surprised maybe by your burst of words or just surprised by your sentence and Jaehyun shot her a dead glare.

She quickly changed your IV and left after seeing your panic stage.

You were shaking, nerves suddenly transmitting traumatic memories and you cried when you tried to remember everything you've worked super hard on... gone with one accident.

"(Y/n) calm down. Forget that! forget that test! You need to heal yourself first." Jaehyun holds you back from your panic attack.

Your parents saw you frantically shake on your bed with Jaehyun trying his best to calm you down. They ran to your side and when they heard what you said, their heart broke and for the first time your parents realized they've been doing the wrong thing to you.

"Mother is sorry, please (y/n).. honey" she cried... if your mind is right, you'll choke up for she never calls you sweet names, but you have no recollection of that, "honey please forget that test. Forgive me and dad for being too hard on you. Please my one and only precious daughter... just heal yourself first. You don't have to take the test now. Calm down."

Actually, Jaehyun finally talked to your parents, he talked politely about the way your parents raised both you and Doyoung in a wrong way. No, he didn't blame your parents for wanting the best, he just told them they shouldn't be comparing child and shouldn't put too much force on something one doesn't like. He explained the effect you had growing up like that and your mom was crying when she heard Jaehyun's easy explanation.

"We're sorry... now how do we fix this?" Your mother asked to the young man across him.

"If you let me, this is a new blank page. Like a reset button, though (y/n) might get fragments of the dark memories, but we can at least rewrite the pages and put in more love and joy into her life."

Your parents both agreed and let Jaehyun does his best to fix their mistakes.

So here you are, sitting on your bed for the third month already, mind still somehow fuzzy and you always stare at your room with blank face. You noticed the plain walls and when you arrived at your home, the grand piano greeted you, but you were confused of the big thing.

"Hey (y/n)," Jaehyun greets you when he comes into your room, "Hungry?" He asks first thing first after you wake up.

You nod your head and notice the lack of food on his hand.

"No breakfast?" Your face shows confusion.

Yes you were eating breakfast on bed for one month, mostly because your doctor also told you to not use your legs too much, but Jae saw it is quite the time you learn to walk and eat properly.

"There is, but not here. Come, we will eat properly." Jaehyun helps you stand, and he walks you to the dining table.

There you sit down, eyes empty as you scan the room, still unable to remember where and what is this place.

Your maid comes with a plate of your favorite breakfast. You look at Jaehyun with expecting eyes, he usually sits on the side of your table and feeds you. All you have to do is wait for the food to come into your mouth!

"Jae?" You question him when he picks up his own knife and fork then he digs into his own plate.

You watch him and he speaks up "Copy me."

You pick up the fork and knife, take the detail and switch the position when Jaehyun shows the right way.

He sees you struggle with your knife still and chooses to cut it for you. He returns the plate with small chunks of eggs and sausages then pushes it back to you.

"Now, eat." He continues doing his activity and with trembling hand (because everything is like you learning from basic) and slow but steady you can eat by yourself.

Jaehyun smiles with adoration, he couldn't deny you're actually smart like gifted smart... he thought there was no way someone could live like you and Doyoung if they do not have a bright basic.

"Delicious?" Jaehyun asks after you finish your plate.

You nod "Thank you" and both your eyes and his open wide.

"Did I just say thank you?" You also sound surprised.

Jaehyun nods "I mean i haven't remind you about table manners, but as expected that big brain is not completely blank, I guess."

The day continues with Jaehyun teaching you some more basic knowledge, you sit down on the sofa and your eyes bore into the big grand piano. Jaehyun noticed ever since you came home you seemed super curious about it. He is not the best pianist, but he can play some songs.

"Come, I think you're interested in this." Jaehyun sits you on a chair beside the piano and he takes his seat.

"Okay I am not as good as you, but let's try this. maybe music can bring back my (y/n)." Jaehyun plays some keys to warm up his fingers and he didn't see the sudden surprise you have in your eyes.

Jaehyun plays a simple piece of your favorite sad song, Clair de Lune. He said he wasn't a great player, but here he is confidently playing one song from the master part.

You clap your hands astonished when he finishes half of the song and surprise him with what you say next.

"That is beautiful. Why did you stop?"

Jaehyun wants to scream, music brings you back? Did your brain forget everything else that is painful to you, but not music because it's the only thing you do with love?

"Want to try?" Jaehyun stands up and helps you get comfortable.

Your eyebrow knits together when you first eye the black and white keys and then after placing two hands over them and closing your eyes, as if it's muscle memories your finger expertly play the same piece Jaehyun showed you, but this time you finished the whole song.

Jaehyun has this recorded and if he knew this earlier, he would've made you sit here and play more music. He notes how your eyes glimmer when your fingers still remember the song and for once Jaehyun saw a willing to live in your eyes.

to be continued... (or not if this is not interesting to read :D)

tell me should I continue or not? and make this happy end or sad end?