#also Fresh Meat but I haven’t actually seen it yet

[rome-roy]

I should have known. I know I should have known. But I am losing my mind over Jesse Armstrong’s writing credits.

If this man can go from writing for kids tv, to creating/writing iconic British sitcoms and sketch shows, to creating one of the greatest tv shows of all time, you really can do anything.

[sugarushwriting]

thinking about frat boy heesueng and you have a crush on him, but it’s one sided. but you don’t care, he’s hot. only…..the ending result is not what you both thought.

nsfw 👇🏽

please note i give my lead female characters name rather than using “y/n” simply because it feels more like a storyline to me. you can always change the name to yours, ignore any details of the girl, but that’s just how i write.

not proof read!!! please reblog and share!! pt 2 maybe? if anyone of the boys names are misspelled I AM SORRY, my phone autocorrects and sometimes i don’t catch it!!!

please do not copy or translate my work!!

ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ₊˚⊹♡

“are you actually gonna talk to him or try and make a move?” your college dorm roomie asked.

you and her were at a frat party, chi omicron (ΧΟ), one of the most popular fraternities on campus.

and the “him” she was referring to was lee hesseung. tall, gorgeous, great smile, and extremely funny. also the biggest man-whore in the fraternity, but he and everyone knows that.

you sighed, taking a sip from your red cup of disgusting alcohol. ni-ki was the worst at bartending drinks and you make note to tease that to him later.

you look up to see heeseung across the room talking to another frat brother, park sunghoon.

thanks to ni-ki, (the nickname you gave him and he just started letting everyone else call him that), you knew almost all his frat brothers in chi omicron. the ones you were most familiar with was, lee heeseung, park jay, sim jake, park sunghoon, kim sunoo, yang jungwon, and ni-ki himself. while the first four were in their third year of college like yourself, sunoo and jungwon were in their second year, ni-ki his first.

you’ve known ni-ki since you were younger simply because his older sister and you were on the same cheer team growing up and he became a baby brother to you as you were the only child. while his older sister went to a different country for college, you stayed back, and soon learned ni-ki would be following.

“babe, you have to act on this crush instead of pining.” your roommate said.

“don’t you think i know that lara?” you groaned in frustration while trying to pull down your mini (mini) skirt, she convinced you to wear. “heeseung is like, almost untouchable for me. one, the crush is one sided, second he doesn’t even know who i am!”

“he doesn’t know many of the girls he sleeps with.” lara laughs while patting you on the shoulder.

“well most of them have some type of social life.” you huffed. the only time you had a social life was when lara was dragging you to frat parties, or hanging out with ni-ki and sometimes his own friends (mostly jungwon, jake and sunoo).

you look at heeseung, only to notice he was actually checking you out. him eyeing you up and down didn’t go unnoticed, neither did him biting his lip.

meanwhile, heeseung had stopped listening to sunghoon the minute he laid eyes on you. fresh meat, he thought. he doesn’t remember seeing you around, although you did look slightly familiar.

“hey! are you listening to me?” sunghoon whined and slapped heeseung. heeseung finally took his eyes off you to look at his frat brother. when sunghoon saw who had heeseung’s attention, sunghoon chuckled.

“finally noticed eunjin?” sunghoon chuckled and heeseung looked shocked. “eunjin is always nearby, how do you not recognize her? she’s like ni-ki’s adoptive older sister!”

sunghoon explained how sometimes when ni-ki stop by the 4’s house nearby, she’s sometimes with him. (the frat house is actually 2 doors down from the older boys house as they refused to live in a frat house that would be used for parties every weekend).

“she’s hot.” heeseung smirked as his eyes went back to you. now you were in deep conversation with the girl beside you and ni-ki. now that he’s seen ni-ki beside you, he recognizes you—sort of.

“of course you haven’t noticed her yet until now. you only pay attention to girls who are throwing themselves at you or girls you just want to get your dick wet with.” sunghoon laughed.

“well now i want my dick wet by her.” heeseung drowned his drink in one go.

“might be easy, she has a crush on you, i heard from sunoo.” it was jay who revealed this information as he overheard a bit of their conversation.

even better, heeseung thought to himself. he was just shocked you haven’t approached him yet. a devilish smirk came to be. must be introverted and shy.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

meanwhile, you don’t know how much time has passed, but you were enjoying your time with lara, her friends and ni-ki.

“i have to go to the bathroom!” you announced.

“no eunjin, don’t break the seal!” one of the girls teased, but you couldn’t help it. you were only halfway done with your second cup, kind of still with it—not too tipsy, but still with it, and your bladder was screaming.

lara asked if you needed help finding a bathroom, but you were fine with ni-ki’s directions giving you special permission to use one upstairs.

after your business, you checked yourself in the mirror, applying more lip gloss to your lips. thankfully your hair still looked good as when you first left the dorm. no frizz in sight. your short black jean skirt was still properly done and the black tight corset top you had on, helped align your figure more, and worked with the boobs you had.

leaving the bathroom, you hadn’t expected to run into no other than the lee heeseung.

“oop, i-i’m sorry.” you apologized with a slight bow.

“it’s okay cutie.” he smiled when you looked up to him. “eunjin right?” he asked and you nodded. you tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear. you’ve imagined talking to him so many times, even thought about how you would get him to bed. turns out, it actually was easy as you thought.

“heard you had a little crush on me, huh?” he teased. you don’t know how he found that out, but you decided that was a problem for another time.

you ended up in a room upstairs with heeseung, and as soon as he shut and locked the door, he leaned in to kiss you.

you kissed him back immediately, wrapping your arms around his neck, has his hands went straight to your ass. he gave a light squeeze, your mouth opening slightly, inviting his tongue in.

you don’t know how long you made out with him, but you ended up straddling heeseung on the edge of the bed, grinding against his lap, his arms wrapped around you tightly. when you both finally came for air, and rested your foreheads together, you could only think about how soft his lips were.

heeseung could only think about how good you felt and how much better you were about to feel to him.

“suck me off.” heeseung didn’t even ask, basically demanded. but you had no problem with complying.

he helped unbutton his belt and pants, only enough to free his cock waiting for your mouth. he twirled a piece of your hair around his finger, licking his lips.

you got straight to sucking him off, bracing your hands on his thighs to balance yourself. heeseung saw stars. his right hand went straight into your hair, his left balancing himself on the bed as he whimpered at the feeling of your mouth wrapped around him. you even had some tricks up your sleeve—or rather your mouth—and he wondered how in the fuck did you know how to do that.

he was coming—close. he abruptly pulled you up by your arm, and apologized if he was a little rough. “don’t wanna come in your mouth pretty.” he smiled, and gestured for you to lay on the bed.

he was skilled, wrapping up in a condom, and pulling down your panties and hiking your skirt up to your waist. he kissed each of your thighs once.

heeseung wanted nothing but to have his head between your legs, but if he did, he was coming too quick and wouldn’t be able to fuck you right. he wanted his dick wet with your pussy clamped around him.

he hovered over you, as confusion clouded your face. he wasn’t going to go down on you, you thought. you were too nervous to ask.

heeseung kissed you once on the lips, a quick peck, and nuzzled his face in your neck.

he could literally combust as soon as he put his tip in. without warning, he emptied every inch of him in you, your walls immediately clamping down, and a gasp escaping your lips, and then a moan from the back of your throat.

“shit, you feel so good around me, pretty.” he moaned and slowly began thrusting, looking down at were you met, only causing him to want to thrust harder and faster to chase his high.

heeseung sat up, wrapping your legs around his waist, as he began pounding you intensely, your bodies and moans the only sounds that could be heard from the room.

heeseung wasn’t going to last much longer with the way you were gripping him.

he loved the way those sounds came out your mouth. the moans, whimpers, groans, and his name. “that’s right pretty, i’m the one making you feel this good.” he groaned, and his hands tightened on your things. his finger reached down between you both, as he rubbed your clit. your head tilted backwards as you bit down on your lip to quiet some of the sounds.

heeseung tsked. “i want to hear how good i am making you feel. i don’t give a damn who hears.” he added pressure to your clit.

your pussy clamped up, and your hands gripped his forearms, and he was thankful he could feel your own orgasm coming.

“that’s it pretty, come for me.” heeseung called out, and soon, your legs and hands gripped him tighter as you moaned out his name. heeseung bent down to cover you as he thrusted even harder if possible as he came and whimpered into your neck.

both of you breathing hard, heeseung kissed your neck, chin, cheek, then your lips with a smile, trying to catch his breath.

when he pulled out, both of you groaned from the loss of feeling one another, and as heeseung took off the condom to toss, you hurriedly got up and went to the bathroom.

heeseung sat up on his elbows confused, but then remembered girls gotta pee after sex or some shit to prevent utis. usually girls would be too tired to even get out of bed, giving him endless praises of how that was the best sex of their life.

after that usually came the, “can we cuddle” or “can i get your number for next time,” which heeseung would always deny and state he only slept with girls once to prevent any clinginess from them (didn’t always work though). so, heeseung was prepared for the same talk with you, although it felt funny to him to have to tell you that.

as you finished in the bathroom, heeseung had only wished he hadn’t drink as much as he did, so he could’ve lasted a lot longer. he wanted to be between your legs, and worship your body as it should have been, but as soon as he kissed you, he knew he had to be inside you. shameful he only fucked you for about 10 minutes rather than hours.

he pulled up his boxers and pants and was buckling his belt when you came out the bathroom with a smile on your face.

here it goes, he thought, but before he could reject you, you said,

“thank you, heeseung.” and left.

just like that.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

time passed, as you eventually made your way back downstairs to lara, a knowing look on her face as she whispered how she saw heeseung go up after you. she wanted every detailed, and you promised to give it to her at the dorm. first, you needed a strong ass drink.

it was almost 2:30 am so this would probably be your last drink before heading back to the dorms.

you and lara walked into the kitchen, and jay was back to making drinks and you couldn’t be more thankful.

“i just need something strong and good.” you told him. when you asked about ni-ki, jake laughed and said sunoo and jungwon had to take him back to the dormitory as he had a little too much to drink.

you laughed and welcomed the drink jay made you and at that time, heeseung made his way back down to the party. still in a daze and shock he was.

when he saw you were in the kitchen with his friends, he was a little relieved. cause then maybe with you still being here, it meant you would find a way to cling to him the rest of the night, and then ask for his number cause it was just the best night of your life.

but it didn’t happen.

you stayed next to jake and lara, and mingled with every one of his frat brothers, but him. you even laughed at something sunghoon said. heeseung drowned his 5th or 6th cup for the night, and when sunghoon told him to slow down, he was just given side eyes and “i’m fine.”

you barely looked his way. he even purposely came by jake, pretending he was grabbing something, but instead of leaning towards him, you gave him space,

at 3:00 am on the dot, you and your roommate were on your way out the frat, with a few other people.

while walking to your dorm, lara asked for details as she couldn’t wait any longer.

you sighed and shrugged. “it was good, nothing special. i gave him head, he fucked me, we both came, at least he knew where the clit was, end of story.”

“he didn’t even go down on you? finger you?” lara screeched and you shook your head no.

“next time, go for the muncher of the group.”

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ₊˚⊹♡

[inkwolvesandcoffee]

Modern Werewolf!Robert Dudley

TH Masterlist

Note: I haven’t seen The Virgin Queen (2005) and therefore have taken great creative liberty concerning the mini series and actual history. Also, the gif above kickstarted the idea and then I got carried away… again.😅😹

- Robert is endlessly curious about humans. He can often be found observing them from between the trees of the family mansion.

- Btw, the grand house is merely a façade, serving only to lend credit to the respectability and longevity of the family. They are ancient, thoroughly well-bred toffs. Nevertheless, they prefer the forest and their Wolf forms over human civilization.

- However, it seems Rob is the one to break that cycle of intimidating distance between the pack and the people living in the outer boroughs of London.

- He can be frequently found wandering around, popping in and out of cafés and bakeries or visiting markets.

- He’s somewhat of a foodie, but a terrible cook and baker. Honestly, can you blame him? He’s been raised with a silver spoon (and on raw meat).

- Nevertheless, he’s picked up baking because of you. Robert was over the moon with your apple pie and cinnamon tea, which he chose the autumn afternoon he walked into the bakery you had recently started working at.

- When you said you’d made the pie fresh that morning he instinctively knew he’d found his teacher. So after using his natural charm (and maybe some manipulation of his scent), he talked you into teaching him.

- By the gods, he’s like a pup when you teach him. Partially because it means you let him into your flat.

- Sometimes you catch him looking around with a dreamy gaze, gone with the fairies until you pull him out of his reverie.

- He always dodges the question what it is he’s thinking of. He also never explains himself when he drops by with mud smears on his face or twigs in his hair.

- Yet, somewhere deep down you know why. After all, you’ve heard the stories and rumours about the Dudley family.

- Robert always wants your opinion on his baked goods. He’ll suddenly show up in front of you while you’re working yet politely ask if you could spare him a minute.

- He loves visiting Borough Market with you and has managed to convince you to go at least once a week.

- And it’s just as well because if you go more often, you’ll certainly feel it in your pocket. Supporting local businesses and artisans is never wrong, but it sure gets pricey.

- Although, here’s where the Dudley riches come in because he pays pretty much for everything.

- What can I say? He’s a foodie and likes sharing food.

- Now, Wolves naturally tend to eat more than humans. Robert, though, takes it to a whole new level on the days before the new moon. He’ll be insatiable, but not only in the way food can cure.😏😉

- (He especially loves fucking after he’s changed back, his senses still heightened and wolf brain still turned on)

- Loves tea time with you. There’s always some new tea and/or treat to go with it he’s discovered.

- It’s honestly adorable how enthusiastic he gets over the simplest things. Believe me, you’ve never seen a man delighted enough to skip around the room like a bouncy ball because of a scone made with the blueberries from his territory.

- And he can’t believe his luck when you tell him about your dream of opening a business there because the man has the funds. All he asks in return is that you run it together.

- His family gives him side eyes because Wolves have no need to bake or put a lot of effort into cooking. They hunt.

- His father is against his growing affection for you, a human. An alpha needs a she-wolf, not a human.

- So Robert runs away, begging you to take him in.

- Happy chappy gentleman with wolfish quirks.

- Loves playfully hunting you and pouncing on you to pin you to the ground.

- More often than not leads to sweet lovemaking out in the open.

- Loves bathing in the nearby lake and swimming with you.

- That’s how you first met. You stumbled across him as he was bathing himself.

- Robert loves to rest his head in your lap, both as a wolf and as a man. However, he tends to do it more as a wolf because it means you’ll run your hands through his fur and he loves that.

- Though simply caressing his hair is enough to make him purr and send him straight into a nap.

- Wishes he was born human rather than as a Wolf, hating his very nature and the expectations his pack has for him.

- “What should it matter this is what makes me happy? Why should this be beneath me? Why shouldn’t I put you first, love you with my whole heart? Why would it be wrong for a Wolf to participate in society, to try and have a normal human-like life? I want to show you at my most vulnerable because I trust you so why would that be wrong?”

- All these “why”’s without an answer he’s left to wonder again and again since Rob met you.

- But the real question is: Why can’t and shouldn’t he be with you?

- Because that’s all he wants.

- To run a small bakery together.

- To be a man.

- Natural.

- Normal.

- And not the next Wolf King.

Tag list: @hecatemoon87 @potter-solomons @babaohhhriley @rose-like-the-phoenix @vir-tual @liliac-dreamer @wandawiccan60 @dreamlandcreations @buttercupsandboys @zablife @mollybegger-blog @hoodeddreams13

[beastenraged]

make me evil instead

(KHDR Werewolf AU)

There are two ways to become a werewolf. A beast to be hunted and destroyed, before it in turn destroys the world. 

One: to be bit by a werewolf, cursed by the Darkness running through veins and saliva into your own blood. You scream and cry and scratch at yourself as you transform under the full moon’s light, curse calling out to that same moon with an unbreakable cry. 

To be bitten is to be scarred horribly. A Dark scar that shall never fade. 

Two: to be born a werewolf. This is much rarer than the spreading curse, although much more Dark. Because those that are werewolves from the very womb are the worst kind of monsters, the teachers say. They choose to give into their evil and kill. Slaughter without remorse, for they were born without such. 

Born werewolves are never marked. Stories claim it’s impossible for them to be scarred at all, outside very rare circumstances and events. 

Neither kind can be spared. Both must be killed, to save humanity from the Darkness beyond Scala ad Caelum’s gates. 

Such has been the truth passed down from the very founder himself, the first great Hunter. Ephemer, who legend claims had to slay his own love after they fell victim to the werewolf curse. 

If the Founder can be so strong...then it is only right that all future Hunters should be same in conduct. Right?

-

Baldr looks at his naked body in a full length mirror. Not a single scar to see. Not a single wound that’s still recovering. Blank like fresh canvas waiting to be painted upon. 

Not a single bitemark to be seen. 

He lets out a heavy breath. Which means...

Baldr lifts one hand. In the mirror, that same hand swiftly becomes furred. Clawed. A werewolf’s paw, with fur as white as his hair. 

The mark of the Dark. 

A Darkness he can never hope to cured of, one that he was born with. 

Should he lose control, he’ll destroy everything he’s ever cared about. His sister, his friends, his city...everything. 

But. He can stop it. He has to stop it. 

All he has to...

“Never bite anyone,” he whispers to his reflection, just as blue eyed as ever. “And no one will ever find out.”

(Ever find out how evil he truly is, on the inside.)

-

Resisting the urge to bite...Baldr doesn’t quite manage it in the end. 

It is far too easy to sink fangs into his sister’s too still body, with the knowledge that werewolf healing will easily take care of those otherwise lethal wounds. 

Easier still to bite her classmates, also covered in blood and injured by the great dragon they foolishly sought to challenge. To shred them like so much meat. 

The Darkness within and the darkness creeping into his eyes from his too weak body...

Both overcome him, in that cave. 

-

He opens his eyes to a room whiter than any other he’s been in before. Back in his human form. 

Master Odin’s voice echoes from the other side. “Ah, I see you’re finally awake, Baldr.”

Baldr bears his teeth. But doesn’t let the Darkness overcome him. Not yet. 

“Why haven’t you killed me? Aren’t I the terrible werewolf?”

“...Baldr, you are of Scala ad Caelum’s original lineages. That...cannot happen.”

Baldr feels his eyes widen. Those times in the past, those werewolves killed...they died because they didn’t have the right blood.

(Something stirs inside at the thought. Something Dark and hungry.)

“Where’s Hoder? Shouldn’t she be locked away too?” he cries out to his Master. 

“Your sister...” A pause. A hesitation. “Hoder sacrificed herself to protect the rest of us from her curse.”

Sacrificed. Sacrificed. 

(What a pretty name for suicide.)

He can’t tell if it’s the thoughts in his brain screaming or the sound is actually emitting from him. 

He can’t tell anything. 

(Only Darkness awaits him. Awaits them all.)

-

After that, well, Baldr can’t bring himself to care. 

Why should he? 

His own sister died rather than be anything like him. They’ll lock him away rather than admit anyone in Scala could possibly be a werewolf without a bite. 

But. They’re used to truly contrite cursed wolves. They’re used to weakness. 

Baldr is still strong. Stronger than ever, after expanding his pack. Even one more member increases his strength, an interesting fact about natural werewolves Baldr is sure they only mention to students as upperclassmen. 

(Even if his new packmate is...no longer here.)

All he has to do is...

His fangs are bared. He howls with laughter as the shoddy old wards give under his claws. 

Nothing can stop him now. Not his sister, not her classmates, not the Masters. 

No one. 

-

Far too easy to tag along his own class’ first Hunt for the upperclassman. Especially when the Masters haven’t told any of them what true fate befell their seniors. 

It almost makes Baldr laugh. 

Scratch that, Baldr does laugh as everyone splits up into pairs. Making it far too easy for him to hunt them down. 

Bite them. Force them to drown in the Darkness that dwells within him. Destroy the future of Scala ad Caelum’s Hunters in one final sweep. 

(Make them pack.)

He bites them all. Curses them all. Except Bragi, who bleeds out, oops, he bit a little too hard there, haha. 

Leaving only Eraqus and Xehanort left. 

The werewolf hater and the outsider. 

Harder to find than the others, the scent is strangely covered up. Much better than the others, never mind all the lessons they had on it. To avoid the monsters hunting them.

Well, Baldr’s the monster now. Those tricks don’t work on them. Yet, it’s still difficult. Takes time, to track them deep through these tall trees. 

Eventually he comes across them. Or he comes across Eraqus and another wolf. Standing between him and Eraqus. 

Yellow eyes. Silver fur. Just as silver as a certain someone’s hair and eyes. 

It’s...Xehanort. Xehanort, a werewolf!

Baldr can’t help the laugh that escapes his mouth, more of a howl. Eraqus flinches, but Xehanort doesn’t, yellow eyes steady on Baldr’s shaking form. 

(He can’t stop laughing. Howling.)

“You...you’re just like me!”

[ghostpill79]

3/20

1:09 AM

Hanging out with lanie again on Friday. Not sure if she like me or not. Actually I think she does. I like her. Don’t over think this. I tried to masterbate earlier but was unable to. Think I will now.

2:39 AM

Watching clips from norm finkelstein and destiny debate. Who is Noam Chanski ? I thought norm was him but apparently not. Scrolling through live blogs not going to sift through them yet until I have more. Wiki - ped - ia.

Talking about how Hamas mudered and raped civilians while drinking Figi water is funny to me for some reason. Destiny Drinkinh Starbucks is pretty out of pocket as well but ballsy. I don’t like him but he’s entertaining. Not in like an enjoyable way. I guess I enjoy he talks about niche shit. Hating on Hasan being a dumbass. Hasan is good for the most part but sometimes he’s fucking dumb as hell. And that’s coming from me. So who knows. Ian Finance on Are Garbage podcast is now playing. Maybe I should finish that string song. I don’t know it was kind of too scant. I changed what I wanted the project to be . I suppose I could build off of it. I can’t finish anything I just keep coming up with shit. Shit I won’t finish.

“ The Casio thing “.

“ Father dirt bags “ haha

Wearing pajamas without underwear recently. My ass looks kind of fat in them. Don’t know if I like that. No one’s looking so whatever. Haven’t seen Emma in a while . Dumb ass bitch. I really can’t stand her.

2:53 AM

I guess I have to call pepper’s tomorrow, I want to fucking do anything but that. I need my W2 apparently. Fucking shit. Goddammit. looking at the bad reviews they’ve gotten.

3:00 AM

I hate that place with a passion they treated me like shit. I was so not in a good place though. I hated working there. Maybe they were just struggling as well . But I don’t know fuck them. I wonder how many people I knew are still working there.

I hope I age well. I already want to kill myself I don’t need to become less attractive. Or age badly. Lose my hair or something. I hope god just grants me that one solid.

3:09 Am

Kanye going out sad.

3:11am

Looking at anything long enough makes me mad. Shut uuuup. Didn’t shower today. Chest kind of hurts. Most likely from eating too many mike and Ike’s. I don’t want to call pepper’s tomorrow , fuuuuuck me. Perhaps email?

3:16 Am

Email sent , might if seemed bitchy but what ever , fuck them. Just send me the W2! I guess they really had no way of doing it. Hopefully they email it . I guess it would be Josh , he was a dick. Although strangely polite when I went into to grab my last check. I think bringing Emma with me was a smart call, they couldn’t fuck with me with someone else there. They also thought she was my girlfriend so I looked cooler then I am so that’s a win. Being alone is not very fun or cool.

3:29 Am

I hope the ban tik tok , free me from this eternal prison. I hate it I hate it. I hate it I hate it. It’s no good. It’s shit. Caca. Joey caca diez.

11:22am

The birds are chirping there’s a fresh morning dew!

11:25 am

Imagined if Shane Gillis was talking about how his dad high fives people and is somehow bad it. My brain is just a bunch of non sense. A bunch noises and sounds.like believer by imagine dragons

Heyy wake up a wakeb me up belivier! Believer!

I think that’s what he says

He’s fucking jacked - the singer

I don’t understand what I’m looking at, such a disgusting band. It’s like if retarded meat heads made a band.

11:35

My mom is texting me that she wants to see Sydney Sweeney’s new horror movie. Didn’t know she was in one. Checked IMDb and she’s in that noun one I saw an ad for yesterday. Oh No this isn’t it.

Need to start school work. Kind of need to per . Dont want to get up.

I already got tickets Spotify leave me alone!

This @ songs sounds like another song

“And never be alone “

Is it a weyes blood song ?

Maybe

I hate that I know this crystal castles song from tik tok.

Going a head and making advising appointment. Being ahead of things

I shouldn’t sit - lay like this.

11:56 am

I hate Spanish. Having to Make a sentence not knowing what any of these words mean is a struggle- a struggle I’ve caused myself but it is what it is. It was the only way to get these dumbass language credits.

1:58 pm

Can’t think of any more lyrics for song. Guess I should leave alone for a bit.

2:01 Pm

Don’t know what to do. Put head in my hands and shoved dirty hair in my face. Back to bed. Will take a shower in a few. Emma supposed to be here tonight so have that to look forward to. If someone was reading this it would be confusing because you would think Im talking about other Emma , thus that last statement would be read as sarcastic. But there are two Emmas!

A mysterious scraping sound is coming from outside.

Popping sound from bathroom is happening again how am I supposed to focus???

Feeling bleak and unmotivated. Could be I ate two Reese bars. But they will go waste. I wish ma wouldn’t give me all this junk food. I wish I had the self control to not eat it like an animal. My therapist is gonna wanna see these live blogs. I will have to bring it up to her. Otherwise what’s the point of doing therapy? I’d just be paying 175$ for her to say I’m doing so well. That would be funny. I don’t know if I’m Caple of lying to that degree. Would be an interesting challenge. Try to seem convincingly okay. The last two sessions all she would have to do is just look at me and see I’m unwell. I’m not great at hiding that. My mom can always tell instantly. When we’re on FaceTime she Always can tell.

I just want to go back to sleep

10:08 Pm

Precious memories are the ones that suck.

I feel so sad and just dead inside .

Can’t quite describe it in a way that gives it justice.

10:10pm

I don’t have to lie about my birth year to create accounts anymore

[yostresswritinggirl]

Do you do poly ships? :0 if not feel free to do these two characters separately lol May I get some hcs of Zhongli and Venti on a picnic date with the reader? Just a quiet day in the sun where the Archons can relax for a moment and watch the world go by :D (if you wanna insert some angst maybe they suddenly realize this moment is fleeting bc reader is mortal and won't be with them forever?? Up to you lol 👀) thank you in advance!!!

I actually don't :D kidding ahahah

What I meant to say was that I haven't wrote anything related to poly relationship before so this a cool, first experience for me! And like the dumbass that I am, I took on this request and butchered the heck outta it. Welcome to "A Day In The Life Loving Two Broke Gods"-

Rendezvous with the Gods

Picnic Scenario with Poly!Venti, Zhongli, and You

Background!

It's pretty WACK how you got two of the seven archons to be interested in you in a romantic level.

But I can imagine that the thing that attracted them the most to you is your sense of humanity. As ex-archons, what they needed now is a sense of normalcy and a grasp on reality, and with your knowledge and presence they've come to realize the ways of the mortals fairly easily.

But like, you got the two oldest archons in existence. Even the Traveler is in disbelief at this turn of events.

I think you somehow ended up in this situation when the two of them had a reunion after their retirement, and the conversation went like this: "Have you heard of the fair maiden, (Y/N)? Their existence greatly reminds me of Celestia!" "I had the honor of meeting them yes, how tantalizing they are, even the slightest sight of them invigorates me through the whole day."

They'd shower you with praises among one another, and you're forced to sneeze for an hour straight somewhere in Teyvat.

Preparation!

*wheeze*

First thing I thought was "How probable is it that Venti drinks Dandelion Wine at 4 in the afternoon?"

The answer is yes.

You three have planned this picnic days ahead, maybe even a week. As all of you have your own work and errands to deal with, probably not Venti tho, a gathering of this magnitude that requires you three to be present for hours are not as common as you'd think.

First order of business: location! The most obvious answer would have been Starsnatch Cliff, Windrise or even Dihua Marsh.

While thinking, Venti and Zhongli ended up sharing a look, and suddenly the location was settled.

No, you don't know where it is, and they tell you that they'll handle it.

You don't have to worry.

You are very worried.

Next, the food! Being in a relationship with two broke Gods made you the alpha in terms of Mora, and on this occasion, you're once again forced to put your foot down and provide.

With that in mind, both of them could only offer a guilty smile and a nervous laugh.

The outcome of your meal depends on your cooking skills really: if you're good or decent, what a heart-warming picnic that would be.

They must have tasted your cooking before so they would ask for requests on your delicious home cooking —

something light that goes with tea, said Zhongli.

something meaty and heavy to pair with wine, said Venti.

It's a wonder how you deal with these two together.

If you're absolutely terrible at cooking, like Suspicious Dish™ rating, you're gonna have to rely on your Mora to get takeout for this date.

Everything else you've pretty much wrapped up quickly, all you have to do now is wait.

Picnic Time!

Venti was the one to pick you up from your housing to guide you to the location, greeting you with a chaste kiss on the cheek before aiming for the picnic basket hanging by your elbow.

You don't let him; he might eat it on the way there honestly

Cute boy is practically shaking with excitement as he hauls you up over a cliff face and carefully nyoom! over the sea

Where is he taking you?

You didn't dwell much longer when you saw a small island in the distance, a rock formation by the edge and most notably, you're tall lover standing next to an elegant patterned brown and gold blanket placed over the sea of flora.

Welcome to Heart Island!

Very cheesy

The Geo archon greets you with a kiss on the hand before being tackled to the ground by a buzzing Venti.

How that was physically possible was beyond you-

You set up and laid down all the food you got for today's picnic: Fresh apples, 'Breakfast' Sandwich, Chicken and Mushroom Skewers!

You've also noticed a picnic basket to the side that wasn't yours. Noticing your stare, Zhongli pulled out his contributions: Mora Meat, a pitcher of Iced Tea, and a bowl of Mushroom Stew.

Out of nowhere, Venti manifests his own offerings to the table: Apples, Dandelion Wine and Mondstadt Hash Browns.

You have no idea how these two managed to prepare or afford such meals but you appreciate it nonetheless.

They had the whole week to save up Mora just for this picnic, how cute aww

The first to take a bite is Venti, defo. You and Zhongli would be prepping the utensils while the Anemo boy sneaks some food into his mouth, even if you smack his hand multiple times, he's not gonna relent.

A lot of catching up happens in this picnic: your wild commissions, Venti's recent performances, Zhongli's uh consultant stuff.

These are the rare moments where Zhongli isn't the one filling up the conversation more, satisfied with hearing the voices of his lovers and listening to their joys or woes.

The whole picnic is accompanied by Venti's lyre, strumming softly, unrelenting, to make sure all of you are enjoying the serenity of the island.

You and Zhongli take turns spoon feeding him cuz he just won't stop PLAYING

Zhongli made the Iced Tea

Zhongli made the Iced Tea

Very refreshing, right amount of sweet, would honestly be a good alternative for Venti's alcoholism

Speaking of, he's tipsy now

He's on a full-blown performance now, serenading and urging you two into a dance after eating "to digest the food faster"

Not really believable but you danced anyways.

Zhongli would decline first as he starts cleaning up

But give him a little more nudge, pull on his hand, he'll crave eventually

Rex Lapis is actually a pretty decent dancer

HAVE YOU SEEN HOW GRACEFUL HE DROP KICKS HIS SPEAR

Such a relaxing day off the three of you deserve

By the time the sun already dipped the horizon and you guys still had time to spare, you and Venti would be dozing off on the blanket while leaving the few remaining clean up to Zhongli. It was a tiring yet enjoyable day that's deserving of a nice and dreamy nap.

"Morax..." He'd hear an uncharacteristically somber voice as he makes his way over to where you both lay. Your back resting on the Anemo archon's chest as he spoons you. His teal eyes stare unmoving at your open palm of which the Geo archon takes into his as he sits down.

Little cuts litter your rough hands, from your adventures, some fresh from today to prepare your dishes. How frail and sensitive mortal hands are.

"I'll miss them, so so much." Venti confessed as his grip around you tightens, free-flowing tears erupt from his eyes that are unfocused, as if he was years away with that thousand yards stare that the other God had familiarized himself with.

For the second time in his whole lifetime, Rex Lapis found himself at a loss for words.

------

"Ohhh, a luxurious chest! What's it doing so far out here?" The Traveler lets the floating companion ramble as they pull the chest open, excited for the new artifacts they'll come by.

A teal goblet with gold accents worn out through the years from disuse as parts of its paint are chipped off as gray splotches, laid perfectly in the middle of a brown wool blanket with intricate gold and silver geometric patterns. On each side lays an Anemoculus and Geoculus, softly glowing yet dimming in pulses.

They pick it up with utmost care for safe-keeping, to ask for their archon friends in the future. Who knows, it might be the closure they needed.

This took some time and a lot of pondering wow! This is even more chaotic than the Albedo one ahahah I've made myself sad just thinking about this— anyways thank you so much for requesting and your lovely support! Please let our archon bbs be happy ywy

[taetaesbaebaepsae]

Quiver (bbh)

Summary: You meet a man who seems to know nearly everything about you, save your name.

As with nearly every Baek fic I write, for @illneverrecover! Although she actually paid me for this one hahaha

Also thank you to my sister for betaing and making my gorgeous banner!

Warnings: angst, violence and death tw, unprotected sex, outdoors sex, oral sex (f. receiving), this is more soft and sad than horny tbh

Word Count: 10,219

Deja vu is something you don't feel very often, and so when it washes over you in a wave that leaves goosebumps on your flesh, you look around.

You're not sure what you're looking for, but you feel that when you find it, you'll know.

Your eyes fall on a man sitting at a table, looking down at a book. His hair is slicked back but with pieces falling into his face, and as if he knows you're staring, he looks up at you.

He has the warmest brown eyes, and something like a shock shoots through your heart. Your feet are moving before you realize it.

"Have we met before?"

He smiles, and your heart flutters.

"Maybe in another life."

His name, it turns out, is Baekhyun, and he works at some investment firm you've never heard of but it doesn't matter because he has the most endearing way of smiling at you while you're speaking to him.

You assume he has money because the car he leads you to is nice, not ridiculously so but expensive to upkeep, a foreign model that's sleek and your favorite color: red.

"Why red?" You ask, sliding into the leather seat of this stranger's car because you just know he's safe, somewhere in you.

He gives you that half smile again, the one that gives you something akin to deja vu.

"Reminds me of someone."

You wonder if you might fuck him on the first date, if coffee even counts as a first date, and it's the first time you've ever done that but when he makes you tea and you lean against his kitchen counter he gives you this look. It's like there's something dark and deep in his brown eyes, something both flirty and almost darkly lustful.

It makes your heart flip. It makes your body tingle. It makes you a little afraid.

But you've never been one to run from fear, especially when it's all wrapped up with excitement and lust.

When you're sitting on his couch and sipping tea he's swiveled his body toward you just slightly, open and inviting, but he doesn't make a move, just watches you, listens as you fill the silence, laughs when you make a face when you pick up his tea instead of yours, which is bitter and devoid of the sugar you love.

You make the first move, in fact, end up clutching at his shirt as you kiss his mouth over and over because it feels soft and his tongue is hot and it feels familiar.

His hands skate up your sides once, above your shirt, and then again, under it, and that feels familiar too, long fingers on your flesh.

"You haven't met your soulmate yet," the tarot reader said. You and a friend had visited her a few years ago, when you were half drunk at a carnival.

"At least," she'd continued, "not in this lifetime."

"Are you sure we haven't met before?" You ask, two weeks later when you've spent almost all

your free time with him, and most of it in his bed.

"Maybe in your dreams," he'd quipped, and you elbow him but he's already spooning you and you're too half asleep to do much damage.

"Always in mine," he says, softly, just as you're drifting to sleep, and you can't pry your eyes open long enough to ask what that means.

You start a fling of sorts with this mysterious man, and for the most part, you’re happy. But then you start having these dreams.

Sometimes, there’s fire on a wall in front of you and when you turn around it’s behind you, too.

You can feel your skin burning and you can barely breathe when you wake.

Sometimes there’s thunder booming all around you, lightning that streaks across the sky and you’re running and running toward someone, a man with warm brown eyes, but you can’t get there and when you look down you’re running in water up to your waist.

Always, he’s there. You suppose it’s because you and Baekhyun have been spending so much time together, that he’s in your head all the time as much as you hate to admit it.

Finally, he’s next to you in bed when you bolt upright, frightened by the thunder because it’s one of those fire dreams, one where you can feel the flesh on your arms crinkling, and it burns burns burns until it doesn’t, until you feel so cold you wake up shivering.

You’re afraid and disoriented and the dream all comes out in a rush — you tell him everything, small details about how you’re clutching a rosary in one hand, how the baubles on it popped n the flames, and he puts his arms around you, lets you bury your face in his chest as your heart rate slows down.

“Your name was Eva, then,” he murmurs, so quietly you’d think you were still dreaming.

Something about it rings true. You wonder if you’d heard that in the dream and told him still half asleep, so you nod against his chest.

“I’m sorry,” he breathes into your neck after pulling you into his lap and it’s so mournful it almost frightens you.

“You can’t help my dreams,” you say playfully, trying to forget it, and he gives you the saddest smile.

“No, not those.”

You keep having those dreams, and they get more and more detailed and sometimes your name is Eva and sometimes it’s Yui and sometimes it’s Sarabeth and they’re all different, you look different, but you always feel how it ends.

And Baekhyun is always there. He looks the same, unlike you, and sometimes he’s your enemy, sometimes he’s your friend but most of the time, he’s your lover.

The dream that finally makes you confront him goes like this.

Your name is Angelica and your father was royalty but you’re just a bastard, your mother a commoner, a servant of the crown.

Once you’re old enough to have his eyes, you have to stay hidden like some fairy tale princess. Except you’re no princess in your dusty cabin, and you learn to hunt small game so that your mother doesn’t have to steal so much from the castle. It’s good that you learn, because your mother stops coming to the cabin and you learn that the plague has taken her.

The plague has taken nearly everyone, and you haven’t seen another person in months when you happen upon a man.

You have your bow drawn before he ever sees you, the string (made of rabbit sinew because it’s all you had, the bow made of oak that you’d chopped yourself) and arrow pointed straight and true.

He shifts, turns around and you hesitate just a moment when you catch his gaze, something familiar in his deep brown eyes. It’s long enough for him to draw his own bow, and he’s quick, quicker than you are, so you let your arrow fly.

His arrow flies a second after yours and they meet in the space between you, shredding each other in two.

You’d thought, then, that it was an omen.

Good or bad, you didn’t know.

You’d run back to the cabin and locked yourself in, but he’d followed you.

A few hours later, he knocked on the door and your heart started to race. Your mother had warned you what men could do to an unattended woman.

There was nothing else, though, and you waited half an hour to open the door.

A basket is sitting on the doorstep, and it contains dried meat and fresh cherries and peaches.

You hadn’t had fruit in years. There’s also a small bouquet of flowers, filled with dandelion fluff and baby’s breath, a few blossoms of lavender. It smells lovely.

You take your time eating the peaches, they have the sweetest juice that you let run down your chin like a child.

It’s been so long since you’ve eaten well that you overdo it and your stomach feels tied in a knot, but you’re smiling when you fall asleep that night, for what feels like the first time.

There’s another basket at the end of the week but he’s standing on the doorstep with it, smiling.

“Maiden, I was wondering if you had any water?”

“Will you draw your bow again when I turn my back?” You ask, wary, and he shakes his head, laughing softly.

“You drew yours first, maiden. I was surprised. The plague has taken so many it seems like I’m the only one left in all the world.”

He doesn’t look intimidating, doesn’t look as if he’s about to rush you, but you’ll be damned if you’ll let a strange man into your home, so you sit on the doorstep with him and eat the peaches he’d brought.

He watches the juice drip down your fingers, how you lick it off, with something in his eyes you haven’t seen before.

You sit and chat for a while, still wary, but he keeps looking at you like that, and you wonder if this is what it feels like, if this is what is to be wanted.

Three days and three dinners of peaches and dried meat later, you let him inside for a glass of water drawn from the well out back.

He drinks it down like he’s been thirsty for days, and you feel guilty for not letting him in earlier.

The way he licks his lips when he’s done makes something flutter inside your stomach and you put a hand there, low, almost on your pubic bone.

He watches every move you make, this mystery man who doesn’t have a hint of facial hair despite living in the woods, watches where you place your hands and fingers, how you move your mouth. He watches you as if you’re something fascinating, like watching fire burn wood down to embers.

When you were young, your mother took you to the Maypole festival, and all the children had been given these long sticks to dip in the fire, to twirl them around and make shapes in the night sky. You’d done it over and over until the stick was burned down too far and even then, you tried to dip it and burned your wrist.

He looks at you like you’d looked at the shapes you’d made with the lit stick. With wonder.

The first time he touches you it feels like the first time you’d felt warm water on your skin as a child, warmed on the fire with an iron pot, your mother spooning it over you slowly.

He touches you that way, slowly, murmuring bits of your name and it slides off his tongue like honey.

“Angelica. Angel,” he murmurs, right at the shell of your ear, and your bones seem to turn to jelly as you melt into him, your back against his chest.

Your mother had told you that one day you’d have a lover.

“Not a king,” she’d said, “but something more.”

You’d asked her what’s more than a king and she’d only smiled, held a finger to her lips as if the two of you shared a secret.

You did, your secret was that you existed, that your father was who he was and that your mother wasn’t his queen, at least not in name.

You tremble underneath his hands and when he turns you around, presses his mouth to yours, he does it slowly. You’re the one who grabs the back of his head, threads your fingers through the long hair at the nape of his neck, wanting him closer, so close, wanting to burrow inside him and live there because you’re aching for him all over and you don’t know what it means.

“Let me call you by your name,” you plead when he’s kneeling before you, pulling down your underclothes, spreading the curls at your core where you’re hot and aching and wet.

He shakes his head. “I have too many names.”

“Tell me one of them,” you beg.

He doesn’t answer, presses his mouth to your cunt and you gasp, tugging his hair hard and he makes a low groan, throat exposed, that makes something come awake in your lower stomach, something somehow both like fire and honey, hot and slow and sweet.

“Give me your name,” you demand.

One corner of his mouth turns up.

“My name is Love,” he tells you, and presses his face back into your cunt, inhales like he loves the scent of you, his hands spreading apart your thighs so roughly that you brace your hands on the table behind you.

It isn’t a name you’d heard any man to have, but maybe he isn’t a man, maybe he’s one of the fae your Irish born mother told you stories about when you were a girl.

Maybe that’s the something more your mother told you about your future lover after reading your palm when you were sixteen.

You hunt together, and you’re in awe of how quick he is with his bow, how he shoots straight through the heart of even the smallest animals, voles and rabbits that you roast over the fire and feast on while he tells you wild tales about his brothers and sisters.

One rules the sea, he tells you, with a magic trident. One makes lightning bolts for his father deep underground where there’s fire so hot it melts rock and stone.

You’re fascinated, sit for hours just watching his mouth as he speaks and sometimes you vault into his lap mid sentence, silence him with your mouth on his because you want want want.

Your mother had told you many things about your future lover, about how you should be demure just like a man wants, but you can’t even try, not with him. Not with your mysterious, many named, no named lover, because he presses your nails deep into his chest when you straddle his hips, hisses when you leave bite marks along his throat and collarbone.

You pretend to be demure sometimes, if only to make him frown, to make him throw you down on your bedclothes roughly, to bite your lip bloody.

“Don’t pretend you don’t have talons, angel,” he growled, and you can’t help the way you laugh loud and open, even with your legs spread wantonly.

Physical love isn’t at all like your mother had described it, and you wonder if she’d only ever been with the king, with a man who cared so little for his paramours that he’d allowed your mother to die alone in the slums, locking her out from the castle so that his heirs might live.

It isn’t something that you lie down and take the way your mother must have, sometimes it’s animalistic, feral like you’d seen horses mate at the castle’s stables when you were young.

You present yourself on all fours and he slides his hands down your ass, grabs the flesh there to part you, presses his face into your cunt until your thighs are shaking. It’s not love that you feel during those times, not exactly, more like that want want want that you feel so often with him.

Your breath catches when he pulls your hair, wraps it around his fist so that your back arches, so that you twist to look at him. Later, when you’re both sweaty and sated, that’s when the love comes, loud and blooming in your chest as he kisses the fingerprint bruises he’s left on your hips, his fingers gentle on your sensitive skin until your breath slows.

Love is a thing that blooms, you would write if you’d ever been taught how. Love is my man’s name and it’s blooming in me like spring flowers.

You go for walks to gather berries because you’re too busy fucking to hunt and you can get by on a few more fruits and you don’t want to wake him. Once you’d brought home rose petals for tea and a piece of a honey comb that had made his eyes light up.

He’d spread the honey across your nipples, suckled and nipped there until you were sore, and one day, you want that again, especially the way his brown eyes sparkled when he’d seen it.

You have a way with the bees, after all, a way of singing high and sweet that makes them buzz around you slowly instead of angrily.

You’re halfway down the path before you realize you’ve left your quiver and bow. Love (both the man and the feeling) makes you feel stupid, heady and slow, and you pause for a moment, wondering if you should turn back.

Instead, you head forward because it’ll be sunset soon and you won’t be able to find that tree, the one with the beehive and honeycomb that your man loves so much.

It happens so quickly it feels like an instant. You step out from the bushes after gathering some blackberries, so juicy they’ve stained your fingers, and the next thing you know, you’re on the ground. When you try to stand, you can’t, a pain blooming (a lot like love) through your stomach and you’re sure there weren’t any raspberries so what’s this red spreading out onto the ground?

You see your man’s boots, barely laced, before you see his face and someone behind you is stuttering but you hear the swish of your lover’s arrow, a choked, gurgling sound and then he’s knelt down at your side.

“Angel, angel,” he whispers, and he’s crying and you want to tell him not to because it makes you afraid.

What’s happened? What’s wrong?

You don’t realize you’re not actually speaking until he cradles your face, lies down in the dirt to face you, and everything but his touch, his eyes, seems far away and unimportant.

“I’m sorry,” he says brokenly. “I need you to remember. When next we meet, remember my name.”

You want to. You want to remember everything about him but you’re sure that you’re floating away now.

“Baekhyun,” he tells you. “My name will be Baekhyun.”

As an immortal, it's hard to remember every moment. Years and decades blur together. The only moments Baekhyun can call to mind in perfect recall are the first times he's seen you

For a while, he’d thought Rome might be the worst lifetime he’d ever have.

He knows what he’s supposed to do, knows it’s his job, but he can barely ever bring himself to do it.

In Rome, you’re excited, young, bouncing around with your hair braided. Fire red, always red, always as fiery as your personality. “Eros, right? God of love.”

He’d smiled, wondering if he looked as tired as he felt. “You think I’m a god? I’m flattered.”

You scoff, swirl your dress around as you turn, speaking with your hands as always and his heart aches with how familiar it all is. “Don’t think that means you’re special.”

Baekhyun cocks an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“Yes. Means that you’re here to help me fall in love.”

“Is that so?” He can’t stop smiling at you, despite knowing what will inevitably happen next.

“Mmhm.” You’d taken his hand, flipped your braid over to the other side of your shoulder. He always tries. He always tries, gods damn it, damn his father and his brothers and sisters, he tries.

But there’s always this moment, where you take his hand, or brush your knuckles against his lips just so, or you just look at him up under your lashes, and the arrow he’s supposed to be aiming feels like it goes straight through his heart.

“I have someone in mind.”

It’s like the arrow in his heart twists, and gods know his arrows have always been true and fatal.

Your smile is so bright, and his heart is so full but it hurts at the same time and what a curse this is, to be able to fall in love with you so easily but have you fall for someone else just as fast.

He tells himself that he won’t try to change your mind, that he won’t let himself get close to you as you go on this search for your true mate.

You’d been childhood sweethearts, you and your match, but he’s been called away to war and you’ve been in mourning ever since.

He’s a god, but he is the god of love, after all, and with all your heart you believed that you loved another. He tells himself he’s doing the right thing… for the third time.

The first time, when it had all started, he’d fallen in love with you and seduced you and you’d forgotten all about your true match and it had all ended in fire and blood.

In Rome, in your third lifetime, he tells himself he won’t let that happen again. So when you put your hand on his thigh when you crouch down to drink on your journey, he wills his skin not to heat and his heart not to skip.

Three weeks in and you’re exhausted, your feet are swollen and bleeding from all the walking and you slide into his furs instead of your own, press your face against his chest.

“Maybe he’s gone,” you say, quietly, and Baekhyun is as still as death, telling himself he doesn’t want to lean down to kiss you, to tell you that it doesn’t matter where your sweetheart is because he’s here and ready and he wants you more than anything.

“We’ll find him,” he promises, and it’s a promise he keeps, even when you press your mouth to his and he takes it, this small comfort, until you fall into a fitful sleep.

Greece was bittersweet, because you found your match in the end and Baekhyun shot his arrow hoping that he’d miss. But his arrow was true, shot straight into the heart of your paramore.

You found your true match, fell in love, had children, and Baekhyun could have gone. Could have sailed away at sea, gone anywhere in the world. But even in Greece he’d spent three lifetimes with you (in one way or another) and he can’t bring himself to be more than a few miles away from you.

Instead, he’d watch you playing with your daughter in the garden, watch you kiss your husband, laughing into his mouth when he picked you up.

He watched you grow old, have grandchildren, plant roses that still never bloomed. You were never a gardener, no matter how you tried. It’s odd, how happy he feels for you, and how his heart clenches in his chest, how hard he wishes it were him.

He would never grow old, and he would never have you more than a few fleeting weeks, months, once even two wonderful years. Eros is love, and love isn’t supposed to fall in love.

So when he did, all those years ago, his father cursed him to find your match, over and over and over. It was you then and it’s you in Greece and Rome and England and Portugal and a thousand other countries that didn’t even have names when he’d met you there.

He’d thought Greece would be the worst because of the longing, because of the jealousy that brewed vile in the back of his throat, but Rome was much worse.

The Church ruled everything and at first Baekhyun thought that was normal. After all, when he was young he and his family had ruled everything. These are just different gods, although perhaps harsher ones.

They called you a harlot because of the fire red of your hair, the way you wore dresses slit up to your hip, the way you'd laugh if someone asked the last time you'd gone to confession.

"You should go to Mass," he'd warned with a lock of that fire red hair slipping through his fingers.

You'd smiled at him. "Why's that, lover? You want to hear my confession?"

He tugs your hair, exposing your throat as you let out a raspy moan, grinding against his thigh.

"What have you to confess, stellina?”

(Of all the languages and all the pet names he'd called you, stellina is his favorite, translates to star, and you burn so bright and beautiful it breaks his heart.)

"Impure thoughts," you muse. "Fornication before marriage.”

You pause. "This might take some time, amore."

You slide down under the linen, leaving open mouthed kisses and nips on his hip bones and thighs, and he forgets what he was going to warn you about.

(He loves any term you call him, in Spain mi corazon, in England love, in German liebling. But his true favorite is when you learn his name, his true name.)

You die fighting, that lifetime, clawing at the priests who’ve decided a witch needs baptism, holding you under the water until you finally stop, your nails broken and bloody.

Baekhyun finds you there, hours too late because he’d been sleeping off the night before, when he’d warned you about Mass, when you’d both stayed up all night, love talk and making love and a good deal of fucking, too, and he hates himself.

Hates that even though he is what he is, he needs sleep and food and water. He hates himself when he lifts you up, your fire red hair darkened by the water, hates himself when he kisses your bloody nails one by one and buries you behind the garden where you used to plant roses that never bloomed.

He hates himself most because it never gets easier, seeing you die, never gets easier knowing that he can’t, that he’s cursed to do this over and over.

In 1402, in Malaysia, you’d just had two streaks of red locks in the front, tendrils that stuck to the sides of your face when you were sweating, and you’re sweating when he first sees you, although you hit him before he ever sees your face.

You’d dropped down from a tree branch, locked your arms around his neck and cut off his airflow. It isn’t as if you could have killed him, but he respects it, all the same. You’ve got this little knife and you slice his throat but it doesn’t bleed, closes up as you watch and you drop to your knees, wide eyed but still, not submitting. Even when you know he’s a god, you never submit. At least, not that way.

Later, he kisses all the scars on your forearms and wrists, defensive wounds from battles and scuffles with the male soldiers who’d found you out.

"I never let them break me," you'd said, proudly, but there's something behind your eyes that makes him want to slaughter all the male soldiers in their sleep, bring you their heads, a sacrifice like the old gods had demanded.

As he had once demanded, before he met a human girl with an immortal soul full of fire and was punished for worshipping her.

Now it's 2021 and he's been through so many years, and he's tired. He's changed his name, over and over, from Eros to Cupid to then more common names.

He's been Baekhyun the last four lifetimes because you seem to like it, it makes you giggle in 1924 when your red (always red, red like fire and blood and love and all things that are important to him) hair was bobbed and you were wearing a black sequined dress at a speakeasy.

"Baek," you'd laughed, tipsy, one hand on his arm and he couldn't stop smiling at you. "Almost like Bark, like a dog."

"I'll be whatever you want me to be," he'd answered, flirting but also honest. He'd always been whatever you wanted because he got so few years with you, each time.

"You'd be my dog?" Your eyes sparkled with booze and excitement.

He nodded. "Follow you around like a puppy."

When you'd given him an incredulous smile, he'd opened his mouth in the middle of a packed speakeasy in New York City and barked like a dog.

The way you'd laughed is something he can hear in his dreams years later, tries to make it the memory he remembers most instead of the ones where you'd died screaming.

Now, there are no more gods who want you for sacrifice, all of his kind who were vengeful had gone silent, moved on or passed on, including his father who'd cursed him in the first place.

He's hoping, every lifetime, that this is where it ends. He's hoping that this time he doesn't have to tell you.

He's wrong, just like he had been in 1425 and 1604 and 1976. The curse outs itself, as curses always do.

You sit up in bed, watching him sleep and shivering, for what seems like hours after that dream.

He wakes slowly, but scrambles up into a seated position as soon as he’s fully conscious, being careful not to touch you.

“Do you remember?” He asks.

“I don’t know.” You mumble, even if you have a feeling you do.

“At some point, you always remember.”

“What are you talking about? Why are you so goddamn cryptic?” Your voice is hoarse and loud.

He nods, as if expecting your outburst.

“Sometimes you’re not ready to hear.”

You want to scream in frustration. “Hear what?”

“What I am. What we are.”

“And what are we?”

“Immortals.”

You gawk at him. He makes it sound so simple, like he’s talking to a child.

“You’re an immortal?”

“You, too.” He pauses. “Well, in a different way.”

“So what, you’re telling me that was real? My dream? Angelica?”

Baekhyun lets out a long breath, shifts on the bed to face you.

“You were Eva. Angelica. Yui. In Greece I called you stellina. You’ve had more names than I have.”

You look up into his eyes and if he’s lying, he deserves an Academy award for the performance.

“What… what are you?”

You aren’t sure if you’re frightened or intrigued or both.

Baekhyun smiles then, wryly.

“Eros. Cupid. Angelica simply called me Love.”

“You’re telling me you’re like... the god of love? The one with the arrows?”

He looks as if he wants to laugh at you but wisely, he doesn’t. Instead he nods.

“Is it… is it always like it was when… when I was Angelica?” You ask, breathing in deeply because you remembered the pain in your chest, the way the blood spread out on the dirt in your lucid dream.

“Almost always,” he says softly, and reaches out to put his hands on yours.

You would have thought you would have flinched away but instead, his touch seems to comfort you and you lean into him.

“What happens when I don’t?” You ask, curiously, and something shutters over his eyes.

“You’re happy.” He rubs your knuckles between his fingers.

It’s a lot to take in and you have a million more questions but also, you can’t think of a single one that you can put into words. You pace around the bedroom and when that’s not enough, your entire apartment, and then outside to the elevator and back and he stays put, sitting cross legged in bed and looking at you with those deep brown eyes.

Finally, you plop down on the edge of the bed, exhausted.

“So what do we do?”

He just looks at you, again with that bemused smile playing at the edge of his mouth.

“How do we fix it?” You demand.

Instead of responding, he takes your hands in his again, brushes his lips across your knuckles but this time you do recoil.

“I’m not going to die horribly again. You can’t want that.”

“Of course I don’t,” he murmurs, and you want a reaction, something other than the way he’s just looking at you so you shove him and he just lets you, falls back on the bed when you do it a second time.

“You just keep letting me die?” You accuse, crawling up onto the bed and he makes a growl in the back of his throat, grasps your wrists with one of his hands and pins you when you try to shove him again.

“I never let you die. I try over and over and over to save you, but I can’t. The only way I can save you is by finding-”

He looks away from you, shuts his mouth with a click of his teeth and you wriggle under him.

“Finding what?” You insist.

He lets you go, rolls over and puts his forearm over his eyes.

“Your true match. In all the lifetimes that you’ve lived to old age in, I shot my arrow to find your true match.”

You deflate, lying there next to him and staring up at the ceiling.

“So you’re saying in order to live like a normal person, I have to fall in love with someone else?”

“Yes,” he says miserably. After a few moments, he lifts his arm and opens one eye to look at you. “Got anyone in mind?”

You shove at his arm, but not as hard this time, and he breaks into a smile, takes you into his arms. You melt against him, just like before, because that’s what feels right, that’s what feels natural.

“That happened? Before?” You ask, stroking his hair and usually he preens at the attention, leans back to kiss you but now he buries his face in your hair, avoiding your gaze.

He murmurs something in affirmation and kisses just under your earlobe.

“You found someone else for me?”

He nods, still not lifting his head, and you huff out a breath, wanting some kind of reaction out of him.

“Was he hot?”

Baekhyun groans and laughs, rolls over onto his back. ‘You always do this.”

“Always do what?” You demand, poking at his side. ���You know all these things about me...or well, some version of me, and I don’t know anything about you.”

He looks at you, smiling just a little. “You know everything about me.”

You huff, frustrated. “It doesn’t feel like it. I want to know more. I want to know how I died, why I died, what all this means.”

To his credit, Baekhyun tries to explain it to you. The curse, his family, but it’s all twisted up in your mind with these memories you have of him in past lives, of being so in love with him you can barely breathe, wanting him so badly you can barely sit still, and it ends with you tearing off his clothes and him laughing into your mouth as you guide him inside you.

After, you’re contrite, kissing along his collarbone.

“I don’t want you to find anyone else for me.”

Baekhyun makes a sound in the back of his throat and you don’t know if it’s surprise or something else.

“I don’t want anyone but you,” you continue, orgasm drunk and with this fire burning under your skin, remembering how Angelica felt, how Yui felt, moving closer to him on the bed because you can’t bear to have your skin not touching his in every place you can.

He pulls you on top of him, kissing you after you squeal in surprise and your lips feel swollen and bruised already but it’s the sweetest ache.

“I don’t think I could, even if you asked,” he admits, and something about the way he says it makes you proud, makes your heart swell. His hands skate over your upper arms and his touch gives you goosebumps.

“No?” You shift to spread your thighs, liking the way he hardens under you with just the barest movement.

Baekhyun shakes his head, his tongue coming out slowly to lick his lips. You see that you’ve bitten his bottom lip bloody and it sends a shot of heat through you.

“Usually I never found anyone else for you, not after I’d touched you. I started out meaning to find someone for you. Touching you first… having you first… it makes things complicated.”

You don’t speak but shift again and it seems to spur him on.

His face is flushed and it’s cute, makes you smile.

“You know why.”

“Do I?” You’re grinning now, like the cat that ate the canary, and he groans but he’s smiling.

He sits up suddenly, bracing himself against the headboard and he puts his hands on your hips to move you backwards so that his half hard erection sits right at the cleft of your cunt and when you gasp and try to guide him inside you, he tightens his hands with a slight shake of his head.

“You gonna make me say it?”

“You know I am.”

You gasp when he puts pressure on your clit with his thumb, humming in the back of his throat.

“I’ve loved you for centuries, and I’ll love you for centuries more, stellina.”

“What does that mean?” You gasp, your insides on fire with lust and love and full to bursting, rocking your hips forward and he gives you what you want, puts more pressure on your clit and lets you guide his cock inside you.

“Star,” he says softly, moving a hand up to cup your cheek. “Because you burn.”

You do burn, you burn inside and out and you want to tell him that you burn for him but he sticks his thumb in your mouth, presses down on your tongue just how you like and all you can do is moan around it.

He keeps his other thumb positioned just right so that you can rock against his hand and lift your ass so that his cock slides against your g-spot and you suck on his thumb until he hisses and bucks beneath you, moving so that you can lean down and kiss him hard, brace your hands on either side of him so that you can get more traction.

You’re sure that you’ll be sore in the morning, ever since you’ve met him (in this lifetime, at least) you’ve been in some type of bittersweet pain, an ache across your throat, soreness in your thighs and hips and ass where you’ve been riding him, a rawness deep inside from too much sex and not enough rest.

There’s never enough, never enough of your sweat misted skin sliding across his, never enough of his hand fisted in your hair, of his cock at the back of your throat, of his fingers hooked inside you. The past couple of weeks you’ve only left his apartment for work and a few changes of clothes (not that you wore them much, anyway).

It makes you feel more sane, knowing that you’ve wanted him this way in other lifetimes, makes you feel like the way you feel makes more sense, because you were beginning to think you were going crazy.

It isn’t as if he’s some kind of sex god, exactly, he just seems to know exactly what you like, exactly what you want, right away. That makes a kind of sense, now, how even when you’re on top he knows exactly what to do and say to get you to tip over the edge.

“I love the way you look like this,” he rasps, looking up at you as if maybe you are a star exploding and it isn’t just some nickname he gave you in Rome. “You’re so fucking beautiful, you know that?”

You cry out his name, throwing your head back when you cum and he palms his hands across your breasts and the stimulation across your nipples sends an aftershock through you right after. You’re like a ragdoll for a few moments after your orgasm and he shifts you around just like one, using you to get off and you kiss and kiss and kiss him, loving the way it feels when he spills inside you.

You say it then, maybe because he said it to you first or maybe just because your heart is full to bursting with it.

“I love you.” It’s almost defiant. “I love you, and I don’t want to love anyone else.”

He strokes your cheek where you’re still lying on top of him.

“I don’t know if we get a choice, stellina.”

There’s always questions when you find out, and Baekhyun is prepared for them. There’s often questions that hurt, somewhere deep in his bones, questions you’d asked over and over again.

Sometimes you’re curious about your other perfect matches, and that stings. Sometimes you want to know about your deaths, and those are hard memories to bring to the surface.

The question that always hurts the most, though, is the one you ask after you’ve both showered, lying sated and exhausted in his bed, the curtains blacking out the sun outside.

“Did we ever have children?”

You’re rubbing your stomach and there’s something caught in his throat and he has to cough to clear it.

“We didn’t. You did. Sometimes.”

You look up at him and frown. “With my true match?”

Baekhyun heaves a sigh so deep it hurts his chest. “With him, yes.”

You pause. “Was it the same guy? Same… soul, I guess?”

Baekhyun nods slowly, his heart sinking, but you don’t ask anything more, you just lie your head on his shoulder.

He wonders what you’re thinking, wonders where it branches off from here. He’s been here so many times before. He feels more tired than he should.

But instead of asking more questions or storming out crying or any of the things you’d done after you’d found out, you start to snore softly, curled up next to him.

Baekhyun wonders idly if he’ll be able to sleep, but he’s drifting off before he’s even completed the thought.

When he wakes, you’re gone, and he scrambles out of bed in his boxers to pace around the house. He can feel you aren’t around and it’s like a hole in his chest. It’s always been that way, he knows when you’re close and when you’re not, and you must be miles away because now, there’s nothing.

When he checks his phone you’ve texted that you’ll be back with food. He’s shocked that it’s nearly noon, it hadn’t even been sunset when he’d dozed off.

Perhaps immortals can be just as bone tired as mortals, sometimes. After a dozen lifetimes of fighting, he doesn’t know why he’s surprised.

He waits for you, sitting on the couch and idly flipping through the channels, and he thinks about when it all ends. His father had moved on, had no one worshipping his name anymore, and it isn’t as if school children are learning much about Eros, Cupid relegated to only one day out of a year with awful sour sweet candy and paper mache hearts. He’s stored his bow a few hundred miles away, hoping that this lifetime he wouldn’t need it, hadn’t actually found a true match for anyone but you in centuries.

Baekhyun wonders, with no real sense of urgency or fear, if this is the last lifetime. There’s a kind of exhaustion he’s never felt before that seems to weigh him down, and he’s finding it hard to care about anything but you. He hopes it happens before you pass, before the curse ends your life too young and too violently. He wants to move on and set you free, because he knows he can’t resist you for more than a couple of lifetimes. He’s tried too many times and failed.

You return bright eyed and with half a dozen books and a notebook, a pen pinched between your teeth.

At your urging he goes out to the car and brings in the breakfast you’d bought and you spread your books across the table.

“Greek and Roman Mythology for Dummies.” He reads aloud, laughing, and you look up at him from the floor and frown.

“Don’t judge me, this is all new to me.”

He holds up his hands. “Not judging. What’s all this for?”

“I’m going to find a way to end the curse, of course.”

Baekhyun sits down hard on the couch. “Oh.”

“What does that mean?” You demand, your nose scrunching up just a little.

He can’t help but smile at you, and he shrugs.

No reason to shoot down your hopes. Not yet, at least.

Four hours later, your eyes red rimmed from staring at books and your laptop screen, you jump onto the couch and into his lap.

“I found it!” You screech, and kiss all over his face.

Baekhyun smiles, kisses you back, and you make love there on the couch. You want to be bent over, his hand on the small of your back to keep you over the couch arm, up on your tiptoes and making a little grunting noise every time he thrusts into you.

Baekhyun may be exhausted after all this time but he never gets tired of this. He never gets tired of you.

Your moans are muffled in the couch cushions but he hears his name, the one he always uses with you, ever since you were Angelica and that hunter’s arrow had pinned you to the ground.

Baekhyun is tired. He’s tired in a way he’s sure no human ever could be. He’s tired of all the times he’s lost you, to your true match and then worse, to death, and he’s tired of living them over and over again.

But when you stand up, twist his face to kiss him, your eyes bright when you grin against his mouth, he thinks that it’s all been worth it.

You’re always worth it, and the thought of getting to meet you again, another you, is all it takes for him to keep going.

It takes a few months to get the time off work, match up travel plans, and get supplies.

Supplies meaning mostly travel gear and light clothes and a passport, the place you need to get to is high up on a cliffside in Northern Greece.

Baekhyun’s supportive enough, you guess, but you feel a bit nervous about his lack of excitement when you’re finally there, in Greece, at a gorgeous resort near the cliffside. Money hadn’t been a problem. Apparently when you’re immortal you manage to accrue a bit of savings.

“Aren’t you happy? Doesn’t this feel like home?”

Baekhyun laughs, loud and open, for what seems like the first time since you’d found out.

“This isn’t my home, stellina. I’m older than Greece.’

You blink, shocked. “But you are Eros.”

He nods. “I’m Eros, and Cupid, and Ishtar, and Kuni. Many gods and goddesses, different names. My duty and purpose was always the same, but I’ve never had a home. Except with you.”

He brushes your cheek with his nose and you sigh, hate that the way he says that so simply, as if it’s the whole truth, makes your heart clench.

“Still, you remember being here.”

Baekyun nods, staring out at the sea, reliving some life you only half remember.

You don’t ask many more questions, at least not until the next day when Baekhyun is listlessly pulling on his clothes and you’re tugging at his hands, excited, wanting to hurry and have this curse looming over your head end, so that you can stop thinking about it.

“Why aren’t you happier about this?” You pout, but you quiet when he looks up at you, his usually warm brown eyes dull and exhausted.

“You haven’t been sleeping?” You ask, softer now.

Baekhyun shrugs. “Some.”

Then he grins at you and there’s a flicker of life in his eyes. “I’m a very old man, you know. I need my rest.”

It makes you laugh, makes you forget, and you don’t think of it again until you’re hiking up the trail, about an hour’s long journey to reach the top.

He’s behind you by a few hundred feet and you frown at him, waiting until he reaches you. You’ve never seen him out of breath.

You take his hand, tug him further up the trail but it’s only a few moments before he stops, bracing himself on a tree near the trail.

“Stop,” he wheezes, and you do, tilting your head at him in confusion.

“Baekhyun, we have to-”

“Just stop,” He insists, and you’d think he was angry if his voice weren’t shaking.

“Why? What’s wrong? What aren’t you telling me?” You fire off at him, moving closer, and he shakes his head.

You take his chin in your hand and force him to look at you.

His brown eyes are still as tired as earlier, and wet now, too.

“I don’t want to do this again,” he manages hoarsely.

You take a step back. “Have we done this before? Have we been here before?”

Baekhyun doesn’t answer, but there’s a truth in his silence.

Your eyes begin to well with tears. “So what? Maybe this time it’ll work, maybe this is different-”

“It’s not different. In France you were called Jacqueline and we came here. You read books about it, forced me here just like you did this time. You were so certain it had worked.”

You shake your head but he keeps talking.

“You were so certain that after a couple of months, I was certain too. Three months later, there was a bus accident.” His voice breaks and he’s quiet again and you feel like you can’t breathe properly for the ache in your throat.

“We don’t know that will happen again.”

“I know!” He bursts out. “I know it will happen because it does, over and over again! Listen, we should go back to the hotel. I can get my bow out of storage and-”

“No!” You cry, stalking over to him. “No, that’s not the way to fix this.”

Baekhyun laughs bitterly, and he won’t look at you. “There’s no way to fix this.”

“You don’t know that,” you say stubbornly. “Whoever I’ve been in the past, I’ve never been this person, and I know I can fix it.”

He pushes himself away from the tree as if it takes effort to do it. “You always say that,” he says, and he doesn’t sound angry anymore, just tired.

You’re angry, heat rushing through your veins, and you don’t know if it’s at him or the fact that some ancient curse has decided to come through your life like a brushfire.

You push at him and he doesn’t fight back, doesn’t even keep you from pushing him against the tree.

“You don’t care, is that it? You’re what, bored of this? You want to get your bow so you can get rid of me?”

His jaw tightens and he looks away from you. “Maybe I do.”

You push him again and he has nowhere to go, backed up against the tree so he just takes it, stands there.

“Coward.” You spit. “You’d rather match me with someone else. You’d rather let someone else-”

“Stop it,” he says, something like a warning in his voice and you want to laugh or cry or both.

“Look at you. You can’t even hear me say it, but you’re going to marry me off like some 14th century child bride-”

“I’m not-” Baekhyun huffs, then stops, runs his hand through his hair. “He’s your true match. You… you always love him, when you meet him.” He struggles with the last sentence but he maintains eye contact, jaw working.

“Fuck my true match. And fuck you if that’s your answer to this.” You rage.

He doesn’t speak. “You’re always happy when you find him.” His voice is weak and it sounds like a weak excuse to your ears and you’re shaking with anger and fear.

You have this memory, sudden and sharp like a knife.

You're in this stone room, an inn you think, and you're half asleep but you can hear a low murmur from the room. It's familiar, from your traveling companion of the last few weeks.

His name is on your lips as you sit up but he's pacing around the room, not paying any attention to you. The way he's talking to himself makes you worried.

"You have to do this. You have to, you know you do," he mutters and there's something liquid in his voice.

Suddenly he slaps himself across the face and you yelp his name, stand up to take his wrist in your hand.

"Baekhyun," you whisper. "What are you doing?"

His face is flushed and his eyes look so tired, so worn, like he's lived a thousand years.

"I'm sorry I woke you," he manages, pulling away from your touch as if you'd burn him.

A few days later, his hands are shaking when he draws his bow, and your eyes are on him instead of your true match.

"Wh-what if you miss?" You whisper.

Baekhyun smiles but he won't look at you. "I don't miss."

He doesn't, but part of you wishes he had.

The memory just makes you angrier, makes you want to push him again.

“Am I? And what about you? What about you, Baek, are you happy without me? Are you happy giving me away?”

He scoffs, finally looking at you.

“No, really. Tell me. You must be happy giving me away because you want to do it so badly-”

“I hate it!” He bursts out. “I fucking hate it, every single time. I hate the way you look at him. I even hate how happy he makes you. I should be happy giving you away so that you can be safe, so that you can have the family that you want, but I fucking hate it.”

“Why do you hate it?” You demand to know, tears streaming down your face.

“You know-” he starts and you shake your head.

“I need you to tell me.”

Baekhyun puffs out his cheeks, he does that when he’s frustrated, when he wants to scream but you don’t have time to think about how cute it is right now.

“I hate it because I love you. I hate it because whoever your true match is, you’re mine.” He says, finally, heaving in a deep breath and exhaling slowly.

“Because I’m yours,” you parrot back at him, and his mouth opens, brows furrowed in a frown.

He takes a step toward you, now, but you don’t back away, and you don’t flinch when he takes your hips in his hands, tugs you toward him, claiming your mouth.

You claw at him, can’t help yourself and you don’t care that brambles are scratching your legs when he lies you down on the ground, don’t care because he’s panting your name into your ear, your name, not all those previous yous. You don’t care because you’ve chosen him, despite whatever the gods had determined to be your “true match.”

“We have to do this,” you tell him as you’re adjusting your clothes and he’s still lying there, panting.

He nods, as if humoring you, but he isn’t as listless when he starts back up the trail with you, keeping up with you and stealing kisses and making small talk.

You’re sweating by the time the two of you reach the top of the mountain, and when you look back, Baekhyun has fallen behind a bit, struggling up the hill.

You startle when thunder cracks overhead, sudden and close, but you walk back down the path to him, put your hand on his arm and he’s trembling.

“We’ve never made it this far,” he says, voice hoarse. “I don’t know what will happen next.”

“We don’t ever know what happens next, Baekhyun, but you know what happens when we don’t.”

Baekhyun shakes his head. “Not if you let me get my arrows, we can stop all of this, we can-”

“No!” You yell. “No, shut up about that, I can make my own choices!”

You tug on his arm and he stumbles forward only a few steps before stopping again and you can see the circle of stones at the top of the hill, where you’re supposed to stand according to the legends, and you haven’t done weeks of research and travelled across the world for nothing.

You take his hand in yours, squeeze, and look into his eyes.

“It’s okay,” you promise, and you have no idea what’s about to happen and it’s raining now, cold against your skin, but you know that you have to do this.

Baekhyun looks at you and there’s nothing in his eyes but fear and uncertainty but you tug at his hand again anyway and this time he follows without resistance.

It happens so quickly after that.

You step into the circle first, and he pauses, hesitating before breaking the barrier by stepping over one of the irregular stones. The second he does, lightning cracks above your head and you cry out, frightened.

Baekhyun grabs you out of instinct or some desire to protect you and you go down, scraping your elbows against the rock and sand as you try to catch yourself. Baekhyun puts his hands on either side of your head and it’s raining so hard that it’s all you can hear, that and the thunder, and there’s lightning everywhere, lighting up his features as he looks down at you.

“I was never strong enough to do this before,” he says, nearly yelling over the storm. “I’m sorry that I couldn’t-”

He’s cut off by another crack of lightning and he seems to be… lighting up, somehow, some glow that you think is from the lightning but then you see it’s coming from inside him. He arches his back, his face lined with pain and you realize something’s happening, something bad but when you reach up to touch him, he’s giving off so much heat that the tips of your fingers burn.

“Baek,” you whisper, and he manages to focus on you again. When he does, his face… it isn’t his face, but somehow you recognize it anyway and it keeps changing, cycling through all the lifetimes you’ve shared together.

“I’ve been so many things,” he says, and his voice is strong even over the chaos. “but I’ve always been yours.”

He manages to touch his forehead to yours and you’re terrified by the storm and what’s happening and especially how it seems to pain him to even move, how he’s glowing brighter and brighter until your eyes start watering.

He says your name but it’s your name and Jacqueline and Eva and Yui and so many others, all wrapped into one, and kisses you, the bright light coming from him forcing your eyes shut as he gets closer.

When you open them, there’s no sound of the rain or thunder and the ground under you is dry, as if you’d imagined it all.

But you can taste the rainwater in your mouth. You can still taste him there, too, but he’s gone.

You scramble up, yelling out his name and there’s nothing, just the sound of the birds in the trees. Moments before, the sky had been black, but now it’s sunny again.

You don’t realize you’re crying until you feel the tears running down your throat as you stumble down the path.

You’re sobbing by the bottom of the path because there’s nothing, no evidence he was even there at all. You’re remembering what he said, how he said you’d never been that far before, but you’re wondering if he’d known, anyway.

You’re wondering if breaking the curse means that he has to die and how all of this is your fault your fault your fault.

There’s a sound in the woods and you barely realize it until there’s a man standing next to you.

“Miss? Are you all right?”

You sniffle, looking up at him, and your breath catches in your throat.

It’s Baekhyun, just the same, wearing the wet and sandy clothes he’d been wearing just a few moments ago, but something’s wrong and you can’t rush to him like you want to.

“Baekhyun?”

He rubs the back of his neck, smiles a little sheepishly. “Is that my name? I seem to have forgotten it. I think… I think I got lost.”

You think about how this feels, how there’s not a single light of recognition in his eyes and it feels like your chest has cracked wide open. You think about how he must have felt this, over and over again, and understand why he didn’t want you to have to feel it.

You take a deep, shaky breath and wipe at your eyes with the heels of your hands.

“You’re not lost,” you tell him, and take his hand.

Baekhyun looks down at your hand in his and then back up to you, a smile breaking across his face. “No, doesn’t seem like it anymore.”

You’re trying not to cry as you lead him back to the resort when he stops and you turn back to look at him.

“I know this might seem like an odd question, but… have we met before?”

It hurts but you crack a smile anyway, remembering how he’d done this for you over and over, remembering what he’d said to you a few months ago.

“Maybe in another life.”

[potteresque-ire]

Hello. I just turned to be a turtle recently after being a solo fan mostly because of toxic atmosphere of solo fans. May I ask, were relationships between XZ and YB solos always so intense and also bad attitude to BJYX even during the promotion “the untamed”? Or did this conflict start after the events of 2020? Thank you in advance.

Hello, and Happy 2021! I’m a super new fan of the fandom, and so these aren’t questions I’m qualified to answer at all. I’m more comfortable providing some wider sociopolitical contexts to fandom-related events because I’ve been reading about Chinese news for a loooong time. My “investigative interest” (oh dear, that sounds so pretentious) is also more on understanding the CP culture in general, how it ties with the country’s state of affairs rather than focusing specifically on Gg and Dd. While I’ve read back on some history re: gg and dd’s fandoms, Tumblr is the only site where I’ve interacted directly with fellow fans.

But I’ve written up what I’ve understand about solo and CP fans for c-dramas so far, mostly for my own benefit (I have a ridiculously poor memory!). Maybe it can offer some insight? This is very new information to me as well; so, if anyone spots something wrong or wants to supplement, please jump right in!

Wars between the fans of the leads of a CP (“ship” in English; stands for “couple”) aren’t new. Conflicts between solo and CP fans also aren’t new.

Competition is the most obvious cause of wars between the fans of the leads of a CP. Especially in the case of M/M pairings, the person “bound” to each idol by their CP is also, by default, about the most “direct” competitor one can have. They’re likely to be of the same age group, share similar fan demographics. Popularity of young male idols (often called “Little Fresh Meat” 小鮮肉, a nickname I’ve abhorred for the decade or so it’s come to existence) also isn’t expected to last, so the two CP leads must make the most of their newfound fame within the same time frame. The competition is more than fighting for similar roles; in China, another major arena is endorsements, in which an idol’s popularity is by measured by 1) the number they hold and 2) the units they sell. Here in the US, stars choose their endorsements based on how well they fit their image; there, stars take as many as they can as long as the negotiated terms are satisfactory. Hence, dd is the spokesperson of 25 products / services in 2020 (including an insurance company (!!)).

I’ve also read about this norm in the industry, which I have yet to verify: in China, if two stars compete for the endorsement of the same brand product, the one who loses will not get endorsements of same products from different brands — at least, not in the short term — because any brand who uses the star who lost would be seen as inferior. Hence, to lose the competition on one endorsement deal can mean losing the endorsement deals for an entire category of products.

(Someone on Weibo has pointed this out: while Gg and Dd have often endorsed competing brands of the same product: Budweiser (gg) and Yenching beer (dd), for example; they have never fought for the endorsement of same brand product. Again, I haven’t verified this.)

This part is easy to understand.

The next question is: why are solo fans against CP fans? “Girlfriend fans” — solo fans who can’t bear to seeing their idol paired up with anyone other than themselves — only make up a fraction of the fandom. How are CP fans generally perceived? 

My key findings so far: CP fans are *perceived* to be more likely to express negative views about their idol paired up with other actors / actresses, which will affect viewership and ratings, restrict the kind of roles their idol will be invited to play. More importantly, CP fans are *perceived* as fickle — more likely to walk away after their favourite CP drama has ended, because as CP lovers, they’re thought to be equally in love with the romantic gestures as with the stars who perform them on/off stage. ie, When another drama comes along featuring the same romantic gestures, the CP fans are expected to jump ship.

I highlight the word “perceive”, because while it doesn’t matter how solo fans see CP fans, it does matter how the business side of c-ent view CP fans and it appears to share this view. The c-YiZhan fandoms have been unhappy with the publicity of the upcoming adapted BL dramas for this reason — aside from their allegations that it’s copying The Untamed’s BTS, the thing that has offended them the most, perhaps, is the very idea that the marketing departments thought a few “leaked” photos of the leads acting intimately close are enough to woo them away from YiZhan, from Gg and Dd.

Given this, perhaps, prevalent view of CP fans, CP fandoms have been viewed as something disposable, almost, to be made, used and discarded quickly. 

Before and during the airing of the drama, the marketing / publicity teams fuel and encourage CP fandoms, reap the benefits in viewership from the ensuing discussions and hot searches. Solo fans usually aren’t threatened by CP fandoms in this nascent phase—CP fandoms have been far smaller in size and only grow during the broadcast.

More importantly, the norms have been that CP fandoms do not last.

CP fandoms do have a tendency to “self-combust” over time: fans * within * the fandom accusing each other of being partial to one of the leads — spending more money on A’s endorsements, for example, or buying more copies of B’s music. However, this isn’t how many CP fandoms die. Instead, once the show is over, the process of “Breaking the CP” begins. I’m not sure who gets this process going, but my guess is the leads’ management companies, with consent (willing or unwilling) from the actors. Breaking the CP means having the CP leads avoid each other as soon as the drama is done airing, and for as long as it takes for the CP fandoms to dissipate. It means no more appearing in the same drama and shows; no more sharing a stage; and if they happen to be at the same event, they are to communicate as little as possible. This “loosening the bind” between the leads is designed to free the actors up for the next CPs, and its way of execution can be very abrupt, very … cruel for the CP fans. For one of 2020 summer dramas (Love and Redemption 琉璃), for example, a popular character (het) CP pairing was broken up in the last fan meet, 10 days after the final episode had aired. The fan meet was marketed as a CP event (there was even merch for the CP); CPs fans bought the tickets, perfectly aware of the unsaid “CPs are made to be broken” rule and it’d likely be the last time they’d see their CP together. But the organisers denied them even this last chance; the leads of the CP had no interactions, not even eye contact during the entire event. The actor didn’t acknowledge the actress in his farewell speech. The fans understandably got upset; even outsiders sympathised, stating that the CP-breaking could be handled with a little more consideration. Word on the street was that because the male lead already had other dramas lined up, the CP had to be broken up as quickly as possible.

(Weibo Night from almost a year ago was seen as a “Break the CP” event for Gg and Dd. Some turtles still cry at the memory of it.)

There’s a term related to the breaking of CPs: 提純 (“increasing the purity”). It describes the ultimate goal of breaking CPs: increasing the proportion of solo (”pure”) fans by breaking up the CP and having the solo fandoms of each lead absorb the CP fans. Because solo fans are *perceived* to be more loyal (won’t jump ship the next romantic drama comes along), less likely to draw criticisms (especially if the CP is M/M and/or affect the RL lives of their stars), and have more purchasing power (as CP fans have to divide their resources between the two leads and equally).

How does this affect how solo fans see CP fans? Another way to say the above is: one CP fan is one fan the two solo fandoms fail to capture. One more CP fan is one less solo fan. “CP fan” should be a temporary identity. CP fandoms sequester resources from the solo fandoms until they’re broken up.

This sets the stage for conflicts if the CP fandoms refuse to fade, if the CP fans refuse to turn solo.

The conflict between solo and CP fandoms is, of course, even more heated for real-person CP’s, which can, indeed, pose a significant threat to the leads’ life and career. An easy example of the former is if one of the CP leads are in a RL relationship, and/or if the lead is straight but the CP is queer (this is the case for The Guardian (2018), the first popular adapted BL “dangai” drama). Another major issue with real-person CPs (queer or not) is that the media will make frequent comparisons of the leads’ follow-up career. If the CP “bind” remains, the lead perceived as less popular may be viewed as using the more popular one to sustain their popularity. Fans of the more popular lead do not take that well. The management company of the less popular lead takes that even less well, and its PR team will work even harder to eliminate the CP from public discussion.

Overall, the “breaking the CP” strategy works as intended. As long as the CP leads stop interacting, no more new candies are generated for the CP fandoms, and even the best candies have an expiration date. The CP fans move on, often to other CP pairings—the CP breaking process often leave them hurt and disappointed at the leads—and further propagating the perception that they are fickle souls who prefer candies over actors.

With this background, it doesn’t surprise me that the relationship between the fans of Gg, Dd, and Yizhan has been so intense since the airing of the Untamed… it would actually surprise me (much) more if it isn’t.

First and foremost, if I take away my YiZhan-tinted lens (as much as I can anyway!), the competition between Gg and Dd automatically becomes The Battlefield in c-ent. Gg and Dd are among the most popular idols right now, and there’s a strong urgency in this competition as idol popularity is perceived to have a limited shelf life. Now, 18 months after The Untamed, Gg and Dd are not only vying for survival in the same industry—which may encourage cooperation between the two solo fandoms—they’re vying for the throne.

Things are already extra tense that way. Here’s an analogy I can think of—it’s easier to accept losing a lottery by getting every number wrong than getting a single number wrong, and by one count. It’s harder for solo fans to accept being number 2, when number 1 was a co-star, the other half of their idol’s CP.

Now, into this unresolved tension, throw in a huge curveball known as the YiZhan fandoms. A curveball that isn’t even supposed to exist — CP fandoms are all supposed to fizzle out quickly after the show is over. Instead, the BJYX supertopic on Weibo (by far the biggest of the three Yizhan CPs) had 1.5 million members in January 2020. It now has 2.8 million (January 2021).

(For reference, dd’s supertopic has 5.4 million members and gg’s, 7.7 million.)

These YiZhan fandoms aren’t merely living on their last breath, their stale candies. They’re thriving. Self-combustion hasn’t happened. CP fans of Gg and Dd keep finding fresh candies, keep having new things to rejoice and scream about.

If I put myself in the shoes of a solo fan, what does this continued growth of the YiZhan fandoms mean? It means the “binding” between My Idol and That-Other-Idol-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named, each a contender of the c-ent throne, is strengthening instead of loosening. It means more and more fans of My Idol are exhibiting signs of wavering loyalty, by becoming fans of both My Idol and That-Other-Idol. Fan culture in China is highly organized, requiring strategy, cooperation and obedience when it comes to generating the best numbers for their idol (sells, ratings, viewership etc). Having to rely on the fickle CP fans to generate these numbers means uncertainty and anxiety.

People behave differently when they’re nervous. Some chew on their fingernails. Some attack.

2020, of course, make the solo fandoms even more nervous about each other. Gg, post-227, isn’t a safe person to be “bound to”, and also to have one’s career compared against—given the bad publicity that has circulated around him, given the fact that he has managed to stay on top in spite of it. Dd, meanwhile, has grown in popularity while Gg goes into hiding—while I personally do not, for a moment, believe Dd has anything to do with 227, it is within human nature to ask: if one loses—and in a manner so publicised, so catastrophic that even the Western media reported on it—who has the most to gain? Work culture in almost every industry in China is extremely cut-throat, and securing victory by not-so-clean methods isn’t uncommon with the immense pressure to perform. Fans are bringing in their experiences from RL in how they view their idol’s competition—with suspicion, with defensiveness. With swords sharpened and ready for counterattacks.

The ultimate cherry-on-top when it comes to causing conflicts between Gg’s, Dd’s and YiZhan fandoms is, of course, the fact that YiZhan is no garden-variety, heterosexual, character CP. It’s a M/M real person CP, in a society where homosexuality, while legal, is still considered “non-mainstream values” and explicitly censored from TV; where personal freedoms have overall been tightening and laws can change overnight. It’s one thing if their idol is truly in a queer relationship and chooses to announce it themselves; it’s a whole different story if it’s some fans of another idol who “out” them—who publicise their queerness that, in the eyes of these solo fans, may very well be fictional. 227 has already confirmed that in c-ent, idols pay the price of their fan’s wrongdoings and in this case, all it takes is for the YiZhan fandoms to make a single mistake—to celebrate one candy too loudly, for example (“to dance outside the circle”), and catch the attention of the wrong government official — to not only cost their idols their popularity, but their whole career. To the solo fans, therefore, the mere existence of the YiZhan fandoms pose a huge risk to their idol that should’ve been avoidable in the first place. And when they check out the new candies, what do they see? They see Gg leaving hints suggestive of Dd; they see Dd doing inexplicable things that can be linked to Gg. c-Turtles joke sometimes that solo fans are even better than they are at spotting the connections between Gg and Dd. But while turtles see these connections as evidences of a romantic relationship, what solo fans see is the other idol latching onto their own, whose fame makes it a reasonable act; they see it as the other solo fandom carelessly jeopardizing their own idol’s career for the sake of more noise and popularity.

The solo fandoms end up fighting. They have few reasons NOT to do so without the YiZhan-tinted lens.

That said though, I’m not sure if the wars between Gg’s, Dd’s and YiZhan fandoms are truly getting worse. As I write this, my thought is: perhaps it’s not that the fans are disliking each other more, but rather, more and more people are getting involved, and the stakes, the risks are becoming higher and higher. Gg and Dd both had fans during the filming of The Untamed, but they were a small fraction, quantity wise, to what it is now. Even if, at the time, 100% of Gg and Dd fans hated each other, they still wouldn’t have generated the noise than, say, if 0.01% of Gg’s fans are arguing with 0.01% of Dd’s fans now. The arguments then, however ugly they could be, would’ve stayed off hot searches, and largely within the two fandoms. These days, however, when even Gg shaking a pen can make it into hot search (as he did during the Tencent Awards), every heated exchange is amplified by passer-bys, by antis, by done-for-money re-bloggers. Quarrels snowball exponentially to the number of mouths pitching in; so does the antagonistic sentiments behind the hurtful words purposefully or accidentally spilled. Meanwhile, the c-YiZhan fandoms have reached the size that as much as they’ve tried to keep everything away from the public eye, it’s not really possible anymore. Search BJYX online, and videos after videos pop up for any outsider who wish to get a primer—and there’s no control over that content. Gg and Dd’s commercials hint at it. The Tencent Awards show host cued it. Before, the YiZhan fandoms may still be able to get away with a mistake or two. Now, they can make half a mistake and all the info already floating around will make sure that half a mistake will round to one.

If I were a solo fan, perhaps I’d scream my lung out too. Think of how terrible this all is, if Dd(Gg) is actually Gg(Dd)’s most fierce competition, as his being the other half of the CP is meant to be. Think of all the damages these fantastical speculations can do, if My Idol isn’t queer and tomorrow, the government comes down with a decree that outlaws queerness. Maybe My Idol will be spared if he isn’t at the top. But My Idol is at the top. Everyone will point to him. The hot searches will show his name, make sure the powers-that-be see it. He … his downfall… can be made an example …

Okay, okay, I’ll stop playacting here. Phew. That was scary * pats turtle shell to confirm its presence * :) . But can you see how deep that fear can go, for a fan who really, really loves and is therefore protective of their idol? How this fear, which stems from love, can turn into hate and generally loud, angry yelling across the internet? 

[zintranslations]

Kaleidoscope of Death, Ch. 70

Kaleidoscope of Death by Xi Zixu Link to Chinese / Link to ongoing Taida Translations

Chapter 70: Appetite

Can't help it anymore. When he heard Qin Budai say this, Lin Qiushi felt a chill deep in his bones. The person before him wore fresh blood on his lips, and stared at him with a pair of silent, red-veined eyes. The look that was so clearly stifling something lifted a light layer of goosebumps along Lin Qiushi's arms. All of Lin Qiushi's instincts were ringing the alarm—that the person in front of him was very, very dangerous.

Qin Budai gradually got closer and closer. His footsteps finally halted before Lin Qiushi, and he slowly called out Lin Qiushi's name. His tone was both cloying and cold, sending very mixed signals.

At that moment, Lin Qiushi wanted to turn and run. But he also felt that the instant he left his back open, something completely out of his control would happen. So he thoroughly smothered that urge to escape and hide, and instead said, "Qin Budai, are you alright?"

Qin Budai smiled eerily at Lin Qiushi. "I'm fine." It probably would've been better if he hadn't smiled at all; it only made his expression seem more twisted.

Just as the two stood in stalemate, Chen Fei's voice came warily from outside the kitchen. "What are you two doing?"

Chen Fei reached and flipped the light switch on the wall. The entire kitchen lit up, and he got a good look at the scene before him.

"Qin Budai— What are you doing?" His gaze fell on that slab of meat Qin Budai had been chewing on, and the moment after he asked this question, he seemed to comprehend exactly what Qin Budai had done. There was a brief hitch in his breath. "You just came out of a door?"

Qin Budai slowly nodded.

"Hungry?" Chen Fei sounded very calm, like he saw nothing wrong at all with the scene before him. "Let me cook you something to eat."

Qin Budai didn't speak, just turned and left.

Watching him go, Chen Fei didn't stop him, just sighed lightly.

"What in the world happened?" Lin Qiushi wasn't as experienced as Chen Fei, and couldn't understand what was going on with Qin Budai. Honestly, Qin Budai’s current state reminded Lin Qiushi of the monsters inside the doors.

"He's probably been affected by the door world." Chen Fei went to the fridge, and pulled out a steak. He really was planning to cook it for Qin Budai. "The human psyche is a fragile thing. After a strong shock, it can be prone to disorder." After saying this, he glanced over at Lin Qiushi. "Not everyone can accept things as calmly as you can."

Lin Qiushi didn't know what to say.

"The worst situation is when everybody else is dead, but the door and the key haven't appeared." Chen Fei lit the stove, heated the oil, and set the steak into the pan with a sizzle. "You're trapped alone inside the door, not knowing how long you'll be stuck there…"

His voice got lower and lower.

It was indeed nightmarish.

To be trapped inside alone. Just the thought of it sent chills throughout the body. Lin Qiushi leaned against the threshold. "Qin Budai… will be okay, right?"

Chen Fei shook his head. "I don't know."

Lin Qiushi, "what do you mean you don't know?"

Chen Fei, "I mean that I don't know if he'll get better, if he can separate reality from the world of the doors."

Lin Qiushi frowned. "If he can't?"

Chen Fei's motions paused, and a self-mocking smile appeared across his face. "If he can't? If he can't… Then he's done for."

Killing people inside the door was fine, but in reality, there were laws and sanctions in place.

Plus, people like this became very dangerous. They may not murder, but they still may commit some other drastic crime. People who could not distinguish between the inside and outside could not continue staying at the mansion. Of course, this wasn't something Chen Fei told Lin Qiushi, because he didn't think it necessary.

The steak was done. Chen Fei plated and brought it to the dining table outside, handing it to Qin Budai.

Qin Budai cut the steak apart with a fork and knife, but his peripherals lingered on Lin Qiushi. He still felt hungry, and the steak before him was incapable of satiating that full-body, anxious gluttony he felt. But he didn't dare make it apparent—could only keep his head down, pretending to be happily chowing down.

Chen Fei watched from the side. Lin Qiushi noticed his brow furrowed in a knot, and a certain scrutiny in his eyes, like he was in the middle of diagnosing Qin Budai's condition.

Chen Fei asked, "what did you see inside the door?"

At the mention of the door, Qin Budai couldn't help a whole-body shiver. He opened his mouth, but said nothing even after a moment, like words couldn't possibly describe the world he'd seen.

Chen Fei, "hm?"

Qin Budai's reply was vague. "It was a very scary world. There wasn't much to eat. I was hungry the whole time."

Chen Fei didn't speak, sinking into thought.

Qin Budai finished the steak, and very politely bid them good night, returning upstairs to sleep.

Lin Qiushi stayed where he was, watching him go. He still felt there was something off with Qin Budai, but he couldn’t concretely say what it was.

Chen Fei said, "I'll ask Ruan-ge tomorrow."

Lin Qiushi, "ask him what?"

Chen Fei sighed, "which world Qin Budai went into, of course." Qin Budai was a newbie, still entering the first round of doors right now. He didn't have Lin Qiushi's luck—the group only took him through a couple of doors, and left him on his own for the most recent one.

Lin Qiushi nodded his agreement.

That night, Lin Qiushi didn't sleep very well. His mind, as he tossed and turned, was filled with the image of Qin Budai eating that raw meat. To tell the truth, after seeing that scene, even his sense of distinction between reality and the world of the doors felt blurred. It was an awful feeling, and left him filled with unease.

The next day, Lin Qiushi went downstairs sporting twin bags under his eyes.

Cheng Qianli had just come back from walking Toast, and Toast was twitching its fat little butt around, chasing and playing with Chestnut.

Cheng Qianli saw Lin Qiushi's severe lack of sleep, and said, "what happened? You look like you haven't woken up yet."

Lin Qiushi yawned. "It's nothing. I stayed up too late last night."

Cheng Qianli, "oh. Come eat breakfast then. My brother just cooked."

Cheng Yixie made porridge, along with a few small dishes. He was sitting and slowly eating at the table. Lin Qiushi went over to say good morning. Then he also grabbed a bowl to eat.

The people inside the mansion all began to gradually wake. Lin Qiushi saw Chen Fei. Then he also saw Qin Budai.

Qin Budai no longer had that scary aura from last night about him. He'd changed into a fresh outfit, and wore a smile. He approached Lin Qiushi and said, "good morning."

Lin Qiushi, "good morning."

"Sorry to scare you last night," Qin Budai said. "I'd just come out a door, and hadn't quite gotten myself together." He smiled, eyes rainbowing in a friendly expression. "I really am sorry."

"Don't worry about it," Lin Qiushi said. "You've… gotten yourself together now?"

Qin Budai nodded, indicating he has.

Chen Fei sat next to them, watching the two interact. He was examining Qin Budai without giving anything away, clearly not completely believing Qin Budai's excuse.

Not long after Ruan Nanzhu also came down. He maintained his typical aloofness, and made to head out after eating, before Chen Fei stopped him.

"Ruan-ge," Chen Fei said. "There's something I want to talk to you about."

Ruan Nanzhu nodded, and the two went off into a corner.

Lin Qiushi knew Chen Fei was likely telling Ruan Nanzhu about what happened with Qin Budai. To tell the truth, the current Qin Budai didn't seem off at all. It was difficult to link him to the person manically consuming raw meat the night before. But however his psyche was actually doing, if he'd gotten better, Lin Qiushi couldn't be the judge. So he thought this matter was better left to Chen Fei.

Lin Qiushi finished eating, and returned to his room.

Spring had just ripened. Sunlight spilled in brilliance, a cool breeze caressed, and Lin Qiushi sat at his window, turning on his computer to browse that forum open only to people who'd been inside the doors.

There were lots of interesting posts on this forum. Lin Qiushi had already developed the habit of reading through them daily. Casually, he plucked a piece of candy from his table and popped it in his mouth. He moved the mouse and began browsing the posts.

The posts were a mess, and full of strange tales.

Some discussed the world inside the doors, others mentioned urban legends. Others still organized same-city meet-ups.

Lin Qiushi read through them with fascination.

Because they'd just come from a door, Ruan Nanzhu hadn't organized any activities for Lin Qiushi, just letting him rest.

Lin Qiushi thought that wasting away a day like this actually felt quite comfortable. He ate lunch, took a nap, and let the day pass by just like that.

After Chen Fei spoke to Ruan Nanzhu that morning, the two left the mansion. Nobody knew where they'd gone off to.

But Lin Qiushi was already used to them appearing and disappearing at will, and wasn't curious at all.

Cheng Qianli and Cheng Yixie though, were gone as well. Lin Qiushi guessed Cheng Yixie had brought Cheng Qianli into some lower level doors for training.

There was still Yi Manman, Lu Yanxue, and Qin Budai inside the mansion. The four of them ate a simple dinner, and Lin Qiushi retired to his room to rest.

After a shower, Lin Qiushi lied on his bed playing sudoku. This inconsequential game was always quick to calm his mood, and also had the benefit of making him sleepy.

As he gradually filled the boxes, however, he heard a knock at his door.

"Who is it?" Lin Qiushi went to door and pulled it open, to find Qin Budai standing there.

Qin Budai said, "hi. Can I talk to you for a minute?"

Lin Qiushi blinked. "Right now?"

Qin Budai nodded.

Lin Qiushi hesitated. "Sure… Let's go talk in the study. Give me a second, I'll come over after I change." He was in his pajamas after all.

Qin Budai quietly watched Lin Qiushi. Currently, Lin Qiushi was dressed in white cotton pajamas, and his long elegant neck and his pretty collarbones were all on display. Lin Qiushi was handsome, with a gentle temperament. He looked instantly easy to get along with. He also looked… tasty.

Qin Budai suddenly licked his lips.

Lin Qiushi eyed him warily. "Qin Budai?" He felt there was something off about the person in front of him.

Qin Budai said, "I only need five minutes. I'll be quick." As he spoke, he squeezed his way through Lin Qiushi's bedroom door.

Lin Qiushi noticed his motions, and took a step back, moving into a defensive position. "Do you need something?"

Qin Budai watched Lin Qiushi. In his eyes surfaced an indescribable hunger.

Goosebumps. Lin Qiushi, "Qin Budai?"

Qin Budai, "I…"

But before he'd finished speaking, he was already lunging at Lin Qiushi.

Though Lin Qiushi had been prepared, Qin Budai still ran into him straight on with great force, knocking Lin Qiushi flat onto the bed.

Lin Qiushi, "Qin—"

Just as the name left his lips, Qin Budai's fingers gripped tight over his mouth. This wasn't the strength of a human at all—Qin Budai could force down all of Lin Qiushi's struggling with a single hand. Lin Qiushi's eyes widened, watching Qin Budai's covetous gaze fixate on his neck.

"Just one taste," Qin Budai spoke lightly. "I'll just have one taste…" He bent down, and began lapping along Lin Qiushi's chin.

Lin Qiushi remembered the slab of meat that Qin Budai tore apart the night before, and began struggling anew with all his strength. But Qin Budai's strength made his efforts seem like a mayfly throwing itself against the trunk of a tree.

Qin Budai, staring at Lin Qiushi's throat, swallowed. He parted his lips, revealing the white rows of teeth, and went to bite…

"Mmph…" Lin Qiushi continued to fight.

Just as he felt the cold touch of Qin Budai's teeth, there came knocking at the door. Fear peering through his expression, Qin Budai glanced at the door.

Dong, dong, dong. The knocks continued.

Lin Qiushi met Qin Budai's gaze. He'd thought that now somebody was here, Qin Budai would release him—but instead, there was resolution in Qin Budai's eyes.

"Sorry," Qin Budai spoke lowly right next to Lin Qiushi's ear. "You look too appetizing. I really… can't help it anymore. Even if I'm discovered, I don't want to let go…" His teeth remained on Lin Qiushi's neck, and began to apply pressure.

Lin Qiushi's eyes shot wide open as he felt the dull pain spread along his skin. He didn't think Qin Budai would actually bite.

With a loud bang!, the locked door was kicked open.

Qin Budai, lying over Lin Qiushi's body, was seized by a pair of hands, lifted up, and brutally thrown against the wall. Qin Budai shouted in pain, while Lin Qiushi fumbled to sit up in bed. He saw Ruan Nanzhu, with a chilly expression.

Ruan Nanzhu didn't speak. He approached Qin Budai, taking a green bronze ornament off a side table as he went, then grabbed Qin Budai's chin to pry his mouth open.

Terrified, Qin Budai was trembling all over.

Ruan Nanzhu's tone dipped to cold frost. He said, "if you like eating so much, have at it." Then he shoved the thing right into Qin Budai's mouth, breaking off two of Qin Budai's teeth along the way.

Qin Budai completely fainted from the pain. It was only then that Ruan Nanzhu released his hand, and returned to Lin Qiushi. There was a deep furrow in his brow, and he seemed to be in a terrible mood.

"Alright?"

Lin Qiushi, "I'm fine."

He said, "I was careless."

He hadn't thought that Qin Budai would attack him under circumstances like this. Though Chen Fei had already warned Lin Qiushi, he'd still underestimated the effect the door had on Qin Budai.

Ruan Nanzhu stared at Lin Qiushi.

Lin Qiushi was made horribly self-conscious by his gaze. He noticed it was fixed on his neck, and so reached to touch. It was only then that he noticed the teeth mark Qin Budai left on his throat… Though no skin had been broken, it still hurt.

Did this need a tetanus shot or what… As Lin Qiushi was thinking this, Ruan Nanzhu suddenly bent down over him.

Startled by Ruan Nanzhu's motions, Lin Qiushi was just about to ask what he was doing, when he caught Lin Qiushi firmly by the arms—the next moment, the spot where he'd been bitten was being roughly rubbed at. Lin Qiushi's first reaction was that Ruan Nanzhu had somehow been infected by Qin Budai's abnormal condition, and so shoved hard and shouted in pain: "Ruan Nanzhu—calm down!! It's me, it's Lin Qiushi!!"

Ruan Nanzhu bit. Only after staying there for a handful of seconds did he release the bite, looking down with satisfaction at the mark that was now covered over by his mark on Lin Qiushi's neck. Likely because he'd heard Lin Qiushi's shouts, he spoke evenly, "I know you're Lin Qiushi."

"Were you contaminated?" Lin Qiushi clasped his neck, hissing at the pain. "What did you bite me for?!"

Ruan Nanzhu spat out a single word: "Disinfection."

Lin Qiushi, "…" What the hell was wrong with Ruan Nanzhu.

After saying this, Ruan Nanzhu dragged off the fainted Qin Budai and left. Lin Qiushi looked over the mess of his room and the broken door, and for a moment didn't know what to do at all.

Qin Budai's bite hadn't torn skin, but Ruan Nanzhu's had. Lin Qiushi inspected his wound, warily wondering he needed to go get a rabies shot or something. He'd never been bitten by a person before, and so searched online for what to do.

Turned out he should've left it alone. The search left Lin Qiushi scared out of his wits, thinking he was likely going to kick it that very night.

And so bright and early the next morning Lin Qiushi rushed to the hospital. After taking a look at his wound, the doctor said, with meaning, "you youngsters need to control yourselves."

Lin Qiushi, "…" Control what, control their diets?

The doctor said, "you don't need a vaccine, just a disinfection should be fine. As long as the person who bit you doesn't have any infectious diseases there shouldn't be any problems."

Lin Qiushi, "but the search engine said…"

The doctor slapped the table. "Can you all stop going to the search engine when you're sick? Don't you just feel more terminal the more you use it?" The doctor looked maybe thirty-one, thirty-two—still quite young. He prescribed Lin Qiushi some bit of medicine, and waved him off in disgust.

Lin Qiushi returned to the mansion.

After Qin Budai was taken away last night, Lin Qiushi didn't ask what would be done with him. Today, he was nowhere to be seen. Lin Qiushi didn't see Ruan Nanzhu either, and so went to ask Chen Fei in private.

Chen Fei looked at the wound on Lin Qiushi's neck, and sighed: "It was my fault, I shouldn't have left him on his own. I thought he'd at least be able to bear it, but who knew his self-control would be so awful?"

Lin Qiushi, "so where is he now?" The way Ruan Nanzhu dragged him off last night looked like he was being taken straight to the crematorium.

"He's been sent somewhere else," Chen Fei said. "There's a place dedicated to people like him. After being affected by the doors, the way he acts in reality will be off, so he needs counseling."

Whether or not the counseling would work was another story. But this sort of person was dangerous wherever they put him. Had Ruan Nanzhu not shown up last night, Qin Budai might have straight up bitten Lin Qiushi to death.

Lin Qiushi, "oh…" He thought for a bit, before asking quietly, "and Nanzhu? How come I haven't seen him around?"

Chen Fei, "I think he went out for an errand."

Then he asked, "is your wound alright though? He broke skin. Did you get it checked out at the hospital?"

Lin Qiushi thought that no skin would've been broken had Ruan Nanzhu not given him that extra bite. And he'd claimed it was disinfection, but his bite was way harsher—it was ridiculous. Not that Lin Qiushi said any of this out loud. He only shook his head to indicate he was alright, and that he'd already been to the hospital.

After that, Qin Budai disappeared from the mansion.

With great synchronicity, nobody asked where he'd gone. Even Cheng Qianli, who was least capable of reading people, didn't mention him again.

They all seemed already prepared for sudden goodbyes.

Only three days after the incident did Lin Qiushi see Ruan Nanzhu again. At that point his wound had scabbed over. He came in from walking Toast with Cheng Qianli, and saw Ruan Nanzhu sitting in the living room eating some fruit.

Hearing their footsteps, Ruan Nanzhu only glanced up, looking them over with a placid gaze.

"Ruan-ge, you're back," Cheng Qianli greeted happily.

"Mh," Ruan Nanzhu replied. Then he looked at Lin Qiushi.

For some reason, Lin Qiushi felt a bit self-conscious. He'd felt that Ruan Nanzhu had been off that night, and was still a bit strange today.

"It's healed?" Ruan Nanzhu spoke.

Lin Qiushi knew Ruan Nanzhu was asking after his wound, and nodded. "It's healed."

"Oh," Ruan Nanzhu said.

Maybe Lin Qiushi was overthinking it, but he thought he heard a hint of disappointment in Ruan Nanzhu's tone.

Lin Qiushi continued, "thank you for that night…" Had it not been for Ruan Nanzhu, he would likely be dead already.

Ruan Nanzhu, "don't worry about it."

Lin Qiushi hesitated. "Qin Budai, will he get better?"

Ruan Nanzhu slowly chewed the fruit in his mouth, swallowed, and then answered Lin Qiushi's question: "I don't know. He determines his own fortune."

Lin Qiushi, "things like this had happened before?"

Ruan Nanzhu, "like clockwork."

Lin Qiushi didn't think he'd get this sort of answer.

"Out of a hundred newbies, ninety-nine will develop mental conditions." Ruan Nanzhu stood. "The last one is Cheng Qianli."

Hearing this off to the side, Cheng Qianli looked confused, and asked, "what do you mean the last one is Cheng Qianli?"

Affectionately, Lin Qiushi petted Cheng Qianli's head. "Nothing, Ruan-ge's just complimenting you."

Cheng Qianli, "oh. Heheheh."

Lin Qiushi thought that to be on the same level of foolish as Cheng Qianli was actually not so easy…

"Prepare yourself," Ruan Nanzhu said. "Cheng Yixie's ninth door is opening soon."

Lin Qiushi's heart jolted. "I'm going too?"

Ruan Nanzhu, "you don't want to go?"

Lin Qiushi, "I… I don't know…"

But Ruan Nanzhu didn't force it, only spoke evenly, "it's fine if you don't want to. You have three days to think about it."

Lin Qiushi nodded in acceptance.

Once he'd said this, Ruan Nanzhu turned and left. Watching him go, Cheng Qianli said he didn't know why, but he felt that recently, the feeling Ruan-ge gave off was different than before.

Lin Qiushi asked, "what's different about it?" To tell the truth, after going through the Qin Budai incident, he realized he was too complacent in the real world. Had this been inside the doors, he'd have never let Qin Budai in.

"I don't know." Cheng Qianli scratched at his foolish head. "I can't really say…"

Lin Qiushi eyed Cheng Qianli, and for a moment fretted how the boy before him was supposed to pass through the rest of those doors. He could too easily imagine Cheng Yixie, with his heart completely broken with worry for his foolish younger brother.

Author's Note:

I'm taking advantage of the good weather today to wash my cat. Everybody wish blessings of peace upon me.

[Ch. 69] | [Ch. 71]

[avengerscompound]

Small Gods: Lost Objects - 5

Lost Objects:  A Thor Fanfic

Lost Objects Masterlist | More Small Gods PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing:  Thor x F!Reader

Rating: E

Word Count:  1722

Warnings: Mentions of sex, oh umm... hey there’s a little bit of talk about things in the trailers for the loki series some people who don’t know anything about the comics might not have picked up.  Should have warned on the series for that.  I wouldn’t personally call them spoilers, because ... i haven’t seen the series to spoil it, but if you’re the kind of person who doesn’t like to know anything...

Synopsis: Thor has lost a lot in a very short period of time and he’s worried about losing himself too.  He goes to the one person who understands loss.

Chapter 5

Barnaby the fat ginger cat sat down and began grooming himself as the black one seemed to stare at you and Thor.  In what really was only a few seconds, Thor seemed to have a whole thought journey.  It started with how close the green of that cat’s eyes was to Loki’s and ended with the conclusion that the cat must be Loki.  The journey took him through a lot of stops, including Loki’s ability to shapeshift, the fact he had faked his death twice in the past, and the fact you could draw lost things to you, but once he landed on it, his eyes went wide.

The cat mimicked Thor’s expression as the man jumped to his feet.  “Loki!”  Thor shouted, sending the black cat running.  Barnaby seemed to watch him go with a look of contempt like he was above such things.  “Loki!”  Thor shouted again, chasing after him.

“Thor?”  You asked, following on, though with much less urgency than Thor.  “It won’t be Loki.”

“It has to be,” Thor said, looking around.  The cat had vanished, but two rows over there was a bang and the smell of sulfur followed by a cat yowling.  Thor charged in the direction of the sound and when he came around the corner and came to a screeching halt as he reached his brother who was lying up against a partially knocked over shelf, his legs in the air, rubbing his head as various pieces of cutlery, jewelry and stuffed animals clattered down around him.

He looked up at Thor with an expression of resignation.  “Hello, brother.”

“Loki!”  Thor roared, pulling his brother to his feet and drawing him into a tight embrace.  “I knew you must not be dead.  You are always the trickster.”

Loki did not hug back but did not resist the affection either.  Just allowing it to happen.  “What are you talking about?”  He asked, dryly.

You appeared behind both the men and looked between them blinking.  “What?  How?  How are you here?”

“That is a very good question,” Loki said, pulling back from Thor.  “As is, why I can’t seem to leave.”

“Come,” you said, gesturing to both men.  “I think this is a tea conversation.”

“Yes,” Thor said, clapping Loki on the shoulder.  He hadn’t felt so light and genuinely happy for years.  He had resigned himself to be the last of Odin’s lineage and yet here was his brother, returned to him again.  “Come.  Let us celebrate!”

Loki allowed himself to be dragged down to your kitchen, where you began to potter around.  You brewed tea and coffee and tried to find some kind of sweet to be served with it.  Eventually finding a packet of slightly stale cookies behind a teapot with a mismatched lid.

“Tell us, how did you escape Thanos?  And how is it you are here?”  Thor asked as you moved around the kitchen.

Loki picked up one of the cookies and sniffed it before taking a hesitant bite.  When he appeared to deem it satisfactory he shoved the whole thing into his mouth and grabbed a handful of others.  It was very un-Loki-like and reminded Thor more of his old friend Volstagg than his much more dignified brother.  “How do you even know of Thanos?” Loki said through a mouthful of cookies.  “Besides, I don’t know what he has to do with anything.  After I escaped from Midgard with the tesseract, I used it to travel around.  I worked out a way to move through time, which was fun…”

“Wait?  What?”  Thor asked.  “When you were on Midgard with the tesseract?  The last I saw you we were in space.  And how did you get the tesseract after Thanos destroyed it?”

“You are speaking nonsense,” Loki snarked.  “Thanos never obtained the tesseract, and he certainly didn’t break it.  The Time Variance Authority confiscated it.”

You put a sandwich down in front of Loki, and Thor wasn’t sure if you’d made it or just found it like that. It was on a large crusty roll, filled with various meats and salad, and wrapped in thin white paper.   Loki picked it up and sniffed it before taking a large bite.

“Why don’t you tell us when you last saw Thor and what has happened to you since,” you said, taking a seat at the table.

Loki rolled his eyes.  “After the battle that I brought to Midgard, you shackled me and were going to let the Midgardians lock me up.  There was some kerfuffle in Stark’s building and the tesseract fell from its case.  I took it and used it to leave.  I went to some friends who removed the restraints you put on me and I was traveling around, entertaining myself.  Then the TVA took offense and locked me up, confiscating the Tesseract.  I was just breaking out to go get it when suddenly I was here and you and this lesser god were fornicating.”

Loki spat the words lesser god the same way he used the word mortal or Midgardian. Like even the words themselves were beneath him.  Thor considered addressing it, but he was more distracted by the tale Loki had just spun.  It didn’t make sense and he was having trouble getting his head around it.  “You were taken back to Asgard and locked up.  Mother was killed when there was a prison breakout,” he said.

Loki started at Thor mid-bite and slowly lowered the sandwich to the table.  “Mother was killed?”

“You know this!”  Thor roared, slamming his hands on the table.  “You were there!  Why are you saying these things?”

“I know not of what you speak, brother,” Loki said.  “When I last saw mother she was alive and well.  Certainly, I have not returned home since I fell from the Rainbow Bridge, but if she passed…”

Thor looked at you like you might have some answers to what was happening right now.  You took a sip of your tea and seemed to think.  “The time variance authority exists outside of time, correct?  I don’t know much about them, but it is generally accepted that they are not of this universe exactly?”

“That’s what they say,” Loki said in a bored voice.

“And when you were escaping, had they realized you were gone?  Were they looking for you?”  You asked.

“Yes,” Loki said.  “Which was why I was in the form of a cat.  I was moving through the vents.”

You nodded and looked at Thor.  “This is just a hypothesis, because… this isn’t how my powers work, Thor, but-” you glanced at Loki and shook your head.  “I don’t think this is your Loki.  At least… not the one you knew more recently.  After the battle there was a divergence, this Loki got away and yours did not.  And just now - I think there is power in you worshipping me, Thor.  What I am… Loki said it himself, I’m small-time.  People don’t actually worship me, they pray and they beg the universe for the return of their missing keys or cell phones.  It’s never to me directly, and it’s never very hard.  Yet here you are, one of the Norse gods, and you were on your knees for me.”

Loki scoffed and took a long drink of his tea.  Thor ignored him.  “You think you brought him here?”

“Yes,” you said.  “I can’t be sure.  I’ve never brought a person here before.  Small pets are the limit of the living creatures with free will.  But maybe if Loki was in cat form, and maybe if they were wishing for him back, while we were… doing what we were doing… it was enough to bring him here.”

“Well, I’d like to go, if it is all the same to you,” Loki said, sounding bored.

“Brother, I haven’t seen you for a long time.  I saw the life choked from you.  Surely you can stay for a little while.  We have much to catch up on,” Thor said.

“The last time I saw you, you had planned to lock me up for eternity,” Loki said.  “What has changed?”

Thor frowned and shook his head.  This was not the Loki he had worked with to save Jane and stop the dark elves, nor the Loki who had helped him escape Sakaar and stop Ragnarok.  This was the angry Loki who had attacked a city at the behest of a titan and whose pain of finding his father had lied to him about his past for over a millennium was fresh and raw.  “You are my brother.”

“And what else?”  Loki asked.

“And I have lost everyone,” Thor said.  “Mother and father are dead.  Jane left me.  Fandral, Volstagg, Hogun, Heimdall, even Stark and Rogers.  They are all gone.  Loki, Asgard is gone.”

“And that is why I find you hiding with this lesser god?”  Loki scoffed.  “Why would I want to stay in such a world anyway brother?  Where I am from, everyone is alive and well - as far as I know.”

Thor lowered his eyes.  “Why must you be so cruel?”

Loki started laughing and patted Thor’s shoulder.  “Oh brother, I’m sorry.  You are in a bad way, aren’t you?”

“It might be a moot point,” you said with a shrug.  “You’re mine now Loki.  I can return you to the ones looking for you, and perhaps you could leave with Thor because he was also looking for you, but otherwise, you are stuck with me.  That’s why you didn’t go anywhere when you tried to teleport out.  Would you like me to return you to the people of the TVA?”

“I obviously do not,” Loki deadpanned.

“Then you might as well make yourself comfortable,” you said, pouring him more tea.  “You clearly haven’t eaten properly for a long time.  Why not rest and recharge and we can work out what to do?”

“Fabulous,” Loki snarked.  “Just what I’ve always wanted - to be stuck with some hoarder deity.”

“Cheer up brother, it isn’t so bad here,” Thor said, grinning and clapping Loki on his back.  He had his brother back, even if it wasn’t quite the Loki he knew, it was still one he was familiar with.  Soon he’d have Mjolnir too.  Coming to see you had been the best decision he’d made in a long time.

// NEXT

[marimo-o]

ok so im making a long ass post about Abzu (the game) within the context of mesopotamian mythology because I'm insane. It's gonna be a doozy and likely incomprehensible so <3 below the cut it goes! There's gonna be TONS of spoilers for the game, and, like, I guess for the mesopotamian creation epic, so. Play Abzu if you haven't and if you wanna read the Enuma Elish that's also cool. Good for u

(a note from afterwards: it's long. like, REALLY fucking long, holy shit. if you actually want to read the whole thing, be. prepared or something idk take breaks! the last two paragraphs (i know they're walls of text pls bear with me) contain most of the important information. like, the final hurrah of my brain after working on this for multiple hours! So if u wanna save time and avoid some of the redundancy, just skip to those last two <3)

So "Abzu" referred to two things; the fresh water people got from underground aquifers (also as the void-sea which was underneath the Sumerian underworld, Kur), and the deity; he only appeared in the creation story, Enuma Elish, because a big part of that whole thing was that oh no! He dies! And that's also a thing I'm gonna touch on (sorry about the lack of accent marks in advance, it's not available on my current keyboard^ ^;)

I'm gonna start off with a brief tale of what happened with Abzu the deity, and then move onto how both the deity and the concept relate to the game!

So like I mentioned, Abzu the deity only really appears in the creation myth. The story goes that the Primordial Soup divided into two beings, with Abzu representing the freshwater and Tiamat being the saltwater. They were married, and together birthed some of the first formative gods! Some of these gods, jealous of Abzu's power convinced Tiamat to kill him (or, I thought it was started by Tiamat growing resentful of the younger gods, one of those). Either way, Abzu was killed, and Tiamat ended up lashing out, creating the first "dragons", or perhaps becoming one herself; with "poison instead of blood". She is killed by Marduk, the god of storms and the child of Enki (one of the first gods created by Abzu and Tiamat), and from her body the heavens and the earth are formed. Imagine getting killed by ur grandson lol cringe /j

Now! The waters itself! This also brings Enki into the equation, who kinda took over as god of the waters in place of his dead father. He's also the god of creation, intelligence, crafts, mischief, and more! Very important guy.

Abzu refers to both the groundwater reservoirs that people depended on for both accessible clean water and for some agricultural work, and also to the void-sea beneath the underworld, where it is said that Enki rests. He had a temple at Eridu, a now-ruined city, and I remember hearing somewhere that he lived in a temple in an underground aquifer? But I can't find wherever I read that anymore so don't take my word for it. Anyway, the basics of Enki as a deity is: child of Tiamat and Abzu, widely worshipped in his time, god of the waters, generally a cool and important dude.

And now. Finally. We move onto the game. My head hurts.

So, for a quick (post-writing: lol it's not quick) overview of the game; you play as a funny little diver, who woke up in the middle of the ocean and, as the player, are given no clues as to who or what you are. You explore through the ocean levels peacefully at first, and with the guidance of a scarred shark (painted as a bit of an antagonist at first with the audio cues) you make your way to wells at the bottom-center of each level that revitalize the space around them; as they progress, many levels start out as barren, empty landscapes that give you a foreboding, nervous feeling going in, before using an energy from yourself to rekindle the life. Huge coral growths, seaweed, and a myriad of ocean animals spring to life. The player character can also ride on the sides of the bigger ones! The game also puts a big stress on unity between yourself and the environment; there's not a whole lot you can physically interact with, but you can play with the animals there and, like I said before, ride on some of the larger animals. There are also "meditation spots", statues where you can sit and explore the wildlife from more of their point of view, able to follow them seamlessly and see what the different kinds of fish and such are called. It's a calming experience, and really the most interaction you get with some of the more timid animals, letting you still see them up close even if you can't get there as the player character.

The story of the game is told via writings on the walls, which you can light up and access by solving small puzzles regarding connecting reservoirs of glowing waters, similar to that of the almost cosmic area you go to between levels; one thing I read described it as a kind of "rebirth area", which I can definitely see hehe!

At the end of the game, you've held the shark in its dying moments, you've discovered a strange factory that builds the weird triangular prisms that deliver anything that touches them a shock, the little flashlight dudes that you've found over the levels, and little divers that uncannily resemble yourself, and you've seen yourself disassembled to your funny little mechanical skeleton, weak and slow as you try to walk on land, before you are rebirthed from the void-cosmic-water area once again, fully yourself. There's a wonderful ending sequence where you swim through all these rivers, bringing life with you as you go, with the shark once again by your side. The whole game, you saw no land when you poked your head above water, just miles and miles of water, but you've travelled far enough to reach a reservoir. You cut the chains to a central triangular prism, and it grows over with moss. It gives me goosebumps just thinking about it, really, it feels like such a... grand gesture as you play through it. It feels personal.

Okay. Theory time. Finally, we're getting into the meat of it. Fucking hell.

So, imagine that you are this being. You're wandering an oceanic wonderland, observing and caring for what you need to, doing as any good little diver should. After a bit of poking around, you discover the start of the engravings on the walls; they tell the story of the people that were here before you, who built these temples and halls and used, or at least stored, the strange blue glowing "water" that you connect and move. It's a water of life, of sorts, one that they truly valued. You come to an impasse between areas, and this massive, scarred-up shark cuts in front of you. You're gonna stay hidden, that thing is terrifying! You try not to move. It doesn't spot you, or at least doesn't move to attack you. However, once it's safely out of view, you do follow it, and it leads you to a dark, desolate, empty chamber. This is wrong, you think to yourself. This isn't how it should be. There's a well, towards the bottom, and you approach it, taking... a fragment of light, from your chest, and imbuing that spark of life into the well. And, lo and behold, that intuition proved helpful, because the world around you springs back to life. Congratulations! You did it! And you continue to, as you work past puzzles and challenges and the appearance of these strange triangular mechanisms, that shock you when you get too close. These people worshipped a shark, as well, likely the same as the one you saw; the guide, now old and scarred, that brings you to where that spark is needed. Even later in the game, you see depictions of the triangular mechanisms, at first heralded as a positive, before these things are found to be the reason for this society's collapse. As if that wasn't perplexing enough, you see a depiction of a being that appears suspiciously similar to yourself, once again treated with reverence from the past civilization. In their hand is a ball of light, similar to the one shown when you revitalize the oceanic chambers. Well, that's certainly odd, you think to yourself. Perhaps this was a being that postponed the death of the civilization, or first allowed for those small chambers of life to exist in captivity instead of the open, natural landscapes you explored at the start. Regardless, it's now a relic of something long gone; but it still gives you something to think about. Later on, that strange coincidence of your similarities to that person are explained; you find a manufacturing plant, full of the vicious triangular mechanisms in each tight hallway, and right at the center of it all... multiple iterations of yourself, running down an assembly line, a spark not unlike what you saw before imbued into each of them. My, look at that; you've been responsible for part of this destruction all along, haven't you? Borne from that same ill that has been forcibly removing that spark from each of the places you've gone to. A bit inconsiderate of you, no? And yet... look at all the good you've done. You've rebirthed, revitalized, purified these ocean fragments, is that not enough? You are the keeper of these waters, regardless of the evil you had come from, despite the terrifying empty things may have reverted to. You, who trusted and followed the shark that seemed so scary at first. You, who followed it as it tried to attack a source of the evil, of the thing that was draining the oceans of their life. You, who held and comforted that shark as it lay dying, despite any fear you may have had. You, who attempted to traverse a minefield of those triangular machines, shocked over and over again and at the final moment, unable to make it to the finish line. You, who was rebirthed in full regardless by the oceans you'd cared for, by the void-sea you always returned to, to rest. You, who traversed a now-ruined citadel, temple, all of which had been flooded and had been dedicated to you. You, who brought life with you.

I hope you see what I'm getting at here. You're serving as a figure not unlike Enki, god and guardian of the waters. In the wake of Abzu, the avatar of the fresh waters, now confined to irrigation canals so as not to kill the younger gods, Tiamat lashes out. Her husband is dead, as far as she is concerned, and she goes to those younger gods to seek her revenge. The dragon, that which sucked the life from the seas and poisoned the waters. That which Marduk killed, to carve new life from. I would say that the shark is Marduk, even; given how the shark is the only one who is openly on the offense to those mechanisms, and who comes in at the endgame to finish them off, bringing new life with it. Even in how it all shapes up with the civilization before, in connection to the constructs; Tiamat was the mother of all in existence at that time. She was surely loved; but she turned hostile and violent. She could no longer be safely loved. And Abzu, both the glowing water we use to open doors and the light that we hold and the deep void-sea we enter between levels and father to all in existence, he was confined to small canals and reservoirs and put in a deep sleep so that he would not kill his own children. And by you, no less. Enki put him there. That is why you can use that water from the start; you lived in the Abzu, you came from it, and each time, that is where you return. That temple, now submerged and decrepit, is Eridu; the place where Enki was most worshipped. The other diver clones are the other gods, or perhaps the "dragons", now, that Tiamat had mothered. The smaller prisms definitely count in that "dragon" category; purely harmful beings that seek to destroy life. And in the end, indeed, you restore life; you and your son, upon killing Tiamat, return life to the world from her body. Perhaps you could not save those who once worshipped you, perhaps those structures will forever be in ruin. But there is no more danger, now; there is space to build and replenish. There is space to grow.

Fuck ok that was long as hell. Hi if u made it this far i love u. god fucking damn im never writing anything again after this. it took about as long as a full playthrough of the game, coincidentally!!

[godofplumsandthunder]

Twisted Fate

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Cancer, both Bucky and reader have cancer, Major Character death, brief hospital terms mainly reffering to cancer treatment. References to amputation.

A/N: This was written for the lovely @eurynome827​ 2k celebration. I got a lovely quote of lyrics from Hadestown, which I wanted to do something that was based off of the musical, but I couldn’t figure anything out. Then I had a big anniversary come up and this was came out instead. It’s very angsty, I cried a lot, and well I hope you like it.

The low, steady hum of the fan fills the awkward silence. The psychiatrist, newly assigned to the case, still doesn’t feel comfortable. “Case number 32557038” was widely known in the health care center. The whispers and rumors floated their way down the hall, past the copy machine, filling the office with this chilling tale. Some regarded it as a terrible series of bad luck, others thought it was an act of some benevolent God, pouring his rage on this poor couple. Dr. Breynord, after reading the notes on the file, Breynord knew that this case was perhaps the worst case of bad luck she ever saw in her career, and, maybe it was her stubbornness or naive belief in medicine, but Dr. Breynord was going to help this poor man get the peace he so desperately needs.

“James,” Dr. Breynord’s voice breaks the silence of the office, “I’ve read what my colleagues had to say about your case, but, I’d like you to tell me what has happened if you feel comfortable.”

Shifting in his seat, James sighs, with a small nod of the head, he starts at the beginning.

Bucky Barnes was used to change. Granted, it was other people’s change, but it was still change nonetheless. The poor folks that sat next to him each clinic visit changed, his caretakers changed, it seemed as if the whole world changed around him, while he was stuck in some perpetual hell. Every day dragged out in the same dull, and nauseating feeling, and at times, Bucky felt he was in an endless loop, forsaken by some deity he didn’t believe in. But, for however long Bucky has left in this fallen and cruel world, he’ll remember when you walked in, shattering the miserable purgatory he was banished to, he’ll always remember the day you changed his life.

It happened during his first transfusion session after his surgery. His arm, still wrapped in bandage, IV tubing leading straight to his heart, pumped his body full of liquids, as he waited for the toxic poison to enter his body. He always found it ironic, the “medicine” that was supposed to save his life, that was too dangerous for the nurses to touch with their bare hands, was willingly flushed into his body. Hair loss, mouth sores, and muscle aches were the better side effects. He can’t help but think about what is coming, especially as he sees his nurse, Thor, come over with the freshly made batch of poison [STRIKE THROUGH], chemotherapy as his doctor would want him to call it. Hanging the bag on his IV pole, Thor looks over at Bucky, giving him the “I’m going to go on a rant about something you should care about” look. 

“Now James, we’re getting a new patient today. It’s their first transfusion. They’re going to be sitting in the pod next to you. I swear to the gods, I best not hear another complaint about your attitude.”

“Me? An attitude? No, I think you got me confused with someone else. I’m the brightest little ball of sunshine here!” Bucky can’t help but chuckle. It’s not his fault he wasn’t a “warrior”, blasting “Fight Song” 24/7, as he sips on a kale smoothie with coffee suppositories shoved up his ass. T

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, Barnes,” Thor shakes his head as he cleans up his station, “don’t think I won’t throw your bald ass out of here. That cancer sob story, won’t work on me.” 

Bucky goes back to his phone, already feeling the effects of the chemo. No matter how many anti-nausea meds they fed him, Cisplatin always makes him sick. So, he had the right to act like a grumpy old grandpa. While he scrolls through his social media feed, seeing all the accomplishments, brags, and just shit of his friends, Bucky hears your sniffles, as you make your way down to the end of the Oncology clinic, taking a seat next to Bucky. Even if Thor hadn’t given him the heads up, he would have known you were fresh meat. One infusion, his mom asked him how he could tell. It was easy for Bucky, it all had to do with the eyes. A cancer diagnosis shatters you. It kills all hope, light, and goodness that’s in you. You turn completely numb to the world, to the point where your own wailing and sobs feel muted. Bucky saw all of that in your eyes. Behind the puffy, redness, saw the shards of hope, the fear of the unknown. Before you could reach your seat, you stumble, spilling your possessions that you carried all over the floor. Bucky watches quietly as you quickly pick up your items, collapsing into the chair next to him. 

“Sorry I couldn’t give you a hand, only have the one,” he wiggles his stump, and he's met with silence. Talk about a rough crowd, he thinks, his nephews love his stumpy jokes. “So,” Bucky continues, “what are you in for? I’m a sarcoma, in the arm.” You sniffle as you turn your body to look at this new man.

“Leukemia,” you confess, voice barely above a whisper. It takes a real effort to say it out loud because then it makes all of this real.

“That’s good then,” the “sarcoma” man says to you, and Bucky can see the confusion, and pain on your face.

“How is that good? How is cancer good?”

Using his arm, Bucky points around the room, giving you a tour of the room.

“See him, that’s Riley, he has an inoperable brain tumor. That young kid, with the Switch? His name is Peter, his body is chemo resistant. So yeah, leukemia is good. If you haven’t learned it yet, not all cancers are made equal.”

“Oh,” you barely make out. What were you supposed to say to that? 

=====

Much to Bucky’s surprise, he actually enjoyed having your company. Your treatments lined up and so you both got to know each other well. Bucky enjoyed having someone close to his age that understood his problems. And it also didn’t hurt that you had such a great personality, you got Bucky’s dark humor (and it went without saying that you understood it was his way of coping), and you looked great. Not many people can rock a bald head. And Bucky has seen his fair share, and he can say with confidence, you rocked it. Not covering it up with caps, scarves, or wigs. Because why should you hide away? For the first time since his diagnosis, Bucky had a purpose. So, while his immune system allowed him to leave the house, he picked up a bouquet of fake flowers (neutropenia life, am I right?) and a box of chocolates to take with him to the next transfusion. When he got to the clinic, Bucky was a bit worried to see that you weren’t next to him. Instead, there sat Barb, 75 years old with breast cancer. 

“Oh sweetie, are those for me?” Barb looks at the flowers in Bucky’s hand. 

“No!” He snaps, as closes the curtain that surrounds his chair. He hears some huffs and complaints from Barb, but frankly, he doesn’t give a damn. Bucky only has one thing on his mind: you. 

“Are you alright? You’re not here at Club Med” Bucky texts as quickly as his one hand would let him. Dropping his phone, Bucky stares at it all while the nurses prep him. And because of damn, HIPAA, none of the nurses can tell him where you’re at. Minutes turn into hours, and by the time Bucky’s infusion ends, you still haven’t responded to him or shown up at the clinic. 

“Hope you’re okay. Call or text me. I'm worried” Bucky sighs, realizing how much you made his chemo treatments more bearable. How your laugh could make him forget of the poison he had to take, or how the light in your eyes could make him forget, even just for a bit, how much his arm stump was hurting. You were a drug, more potent than any he’s had before, and Bucky was becoming addicted. He’s picking at the hamburger he got for dinner, not having much of an appetite when his phone goes off. Seeing it’s from you, he rushes to answer. 

“Y/N! I… Where were you? I missed you today. I had to sit by Barb and…” The sounds of your cries cut Bucky off. 

“Are you okay?”

“No, Buck. I… Got some bad news today.” 

“Where are you?” He asks. He knows you’re alone, and speaking from experience, you never want to be alone when you get bad news. He knows from experience.

“Buck…” you sigh, “It’s fine. Really.” 

“Please, Y/N, I know what it’s like to be alone after getting this kind of news. Please, let me be there for you.” Breaking further down into tears, you cry at Bucky’s actions, actions of love. 

“I’ll send you my address,” Bucky gathers the flowers and chocolates as he rushes to your apartment, breaking a few traffic laws to get there faster. When he gets there, the image of you, opening the door, eyes swollen from crying breaks his heart. 

“Oh, Y/N,” Bucky sweeps you into his arm, as he closes the door behind, “tell me what’s going on hun.” 

You both sit on the couch, the bag with the flowers and chocolate lay at your feet, as you stay in Bucky’s embrace. 

“I’m… I’m dying Buck!” You manage to say in-between odds. “Dr. Fair... gave me three months to live. There’s nothing else they can do.” You break down in his arms, that last straw finally breaking, as you tell your newfound best friend, the person you were supposed to beat cancer with. Bucky tries his best to remain strong, to be the rock, the foundation you need, but you’re not the only one that is losing a friend. You sit in each other's embrace, as you mourn. You cry for all the missed opportunities, laughs, and memories that won’t be made. 

“What am I going to do,” you whisper, your voice hoarse from crying. 

Kissing your head, Bucky pulls you in closer, “we, are going to make these three months, the best three months you’ve ever had.”

Bucky lives up to his promise, spending every hour he isn’t in the hospital with you. The time you spent together changed your relationship. Neither had to officially say the words to make your relationship official. It was just you, and Bucky. Holding each other close, as the tempest waged on, trying to beat you into submission. You go on walks in the park, picnics, and one night when you both had the energy, went skinny dipping. Your logic being, what are the cops going to do? Arrest two cancer patients, with one of them being terminal? You threw caution to the wind and simply lived. Lived, breathed, and loved. Things seemed to be perfect until reality hit.

Your body wasn’t keeping up. Your cancer was spreading faster than they predicted. The doctors couldn’t give you an explanation as to why the cancer was spreading so fast. It shouldn’t have been. Soon, home hospice came, to try to make you more comfortable. And like the good partner he was, Bucky spent every minute by your side. That’s why, when you felt the inevitable coming, you felt your body give in to the tiredness of fighting, you grab Bucky’s hand. 

“I love you, James Bucky Barnes,” you weakly say, giving him one last affirmation, as you went to sleep, for one last time. 

As Bucky wakes up from his nap, feeling your cold body, he tries to ruse you back awake. Once he realizes what has happened, the last bit of humanity inside of Bucky snapped. He lets out a blood-curdling scream, as tears stream down his face. He strikes your face, pleas escape his mouth. Pleas to you, to a God he has long stopped believing in. His body shakes, his tears wetting your hair, as he holds you for one last time. 

=====

“Oh James,” Dr. Breynord grabs herself a tissue before handing Bucky the box of tissues. “I truly am so sorry to hear that. I want you to know that I am here to help you get happy again, and to heal.”

Bucky sighs and turns away from the doctor as he wipes his eyes. “You’re just like the rest of them. You didn’t listen to me.” 

Breynord was surprised that this was Bucky’s complaint. The other doctors had warned her that Bucky could be sarcastic, standoff-ish, and even flat-out rude to them. Breynord thought she did a good job listening to his story, what did she miss.

“I… I don’t think I understand what you mean, James.”

Bucky lets out a heartless, empty laugh, “you want me to be happy again. I’m never going to be. Not only do I have to live with the guilt of surviving, when she died, in my arms, but I’ll also never find another soul like hers. We had a connection, you know. It felt like we met before. When I held her in my arm, and her arms would wrap around me, it felt like I had the whole world in my arms. I didn’t need anything else when I had Y/N.” 

“So tell me doc, what’s the point of carrying on?”

[harrylee94]

Time Heals All Wounds - Chapter 5

You can also find this on AO3!

Summary: “To walk the path of the Mandalore, you become both the hunter and the prey.”

The ship’s engine whirred as time stretched between them into a long quiet, a moment of shared pain joined by their fingers in a small ship in a galaxy that didn’t seem to care. The thickness seemed to drip through every crevase and saturate their very skin, and yet together it didn’t feel quite so heavy.

"... You've lost so much,” Cobb said, his voice cracked as though clogged by tears.

Din gave Cobb’s fingers a squeeze in thanks. “So have you.”

Notes: I feel like the phrase "space cowboy" is somehow appropriate here...

Chapter 4 ——————————————————————

Blurrgs

Finding their destination was an interesting experience; Cobb had sat with Din and pointed in a general direction to get them started — actually pointed in a direction while sitting in a meditative state — before ‘using the Force’ while looking at the map of the galaxy to pinpoint the correct planet. Din hadn’t heard of Arvala-7 before, but, as was always the case, it was a good half a day’s journey to reach it, so he set the course and left the Crest to fly them there.

Din felt unbalanced by the whole thing, but eventually, after some hours of tantalising scents coming from his portable stove, Cobb shoved a bowl of what looked like some sort of stew into his hands and sent him into his bunk to eat. The warmth of the meal settled him some, and the tenderness of the meat and vegetables made him sigh; it had been so long since he had last had a cooked meal like this, and the simplicity of it brought a comfort that he hadn’t felt in an age.

A small bread roll had also been provided, and he used it to mop up the dregs in the bottom of the bowl. Had he not had it, he may have licked the bowl.

Cobb was a good cook, it seemed. He wouldn’t mind leaving him in charge of their meals for as long as they were working together, however long that was. He didn’t mind his company either, his chatter having filled the air in short bursts as he’d been cooking, and he hadn’t expected Din to join in. It had been a comforting white noise, and the lack of pressure for him to speak was a relief.

But when he opened the hatch to his bunk to find his curious gaze looking in his direction, he knew he wouldn’t be able to avoid talking any longer.

“Is it a religious thing?”

He’d been waiting for this. It was a conversation that seemed to come up with anyone he spent more than a passing conversation with, and he hated it every time. "It is my Creed. For another living being to look upon my face is to become dar'manda."

Vanth pursed his lips in thought for a moment. “Not Mandalorian?”

“Ye—,” Din began, only for his voice to get stuck in his throat. He coughed, even as he stared. “You know Mando’a?”

Cobb, much to his surprise (though at this moment he hadn’t thought it was possible to feel even more so), ducked his head with a bashful look. “Only a little. Enough to get by.”

Enough to survive.

“It's a dying language.”

Cobb looked startled for a moment before his eyes softened. “Is this why I haven’t seen any other Mandalorians?”

Din swallowed and ducked his head. Though he may not have been to Manda’yaim, knowing what had happened was a grief that was still too fresh and would never fully heal.

“The Empire… My people were proud and strong, and the Empire feared us,” Din said, thinking back to the day the Armourer had gathered the Covert to explain why they were relocating once again, of the cries of shock, of outrage, of horror. “Mandalore… the planet…” He took a deep breath. “We call it the Night of a Thousand Tears. They laid waste to my people’s home, decimated the cities, the lands… the people.”

His gloves creaked around his fists as he shook, his fury just as potent as his sorrow.

“The entire planet was purged. Those of us who were left scattered across the galaxy, went into hiding just to survive.”

Cobb’s hand curled over his, and Din caught his gaze once again. His eyes seemed to hold all the understanding and softness in the galaxy, and he exhaled, allowing his fingers to unwind as Cobb’s fell in to hold them.

“To walk the path of the Mandalore, you become both the hunter and the prey.”

The ship’s engine whirred as time stretched between them into a long quiet, a moment of shared pain joined by their fingers in a small ship in a galaxy that didn’t seem to care. The thickness seemed to drip through every crevase and saturate their very skin, and yet together it didn’t feel quite so heavy.

"... You've lost so much,” Cobb said, his voice cracked as though clogged by tears.

Din gave Cobb’s fingers a squeeze in thanks. “So have you.”

The Jedi winced, but squeezed his fingers back with a nod and a self-deprecating smirk. “Ain’t we a pair?”

The Mandalorian couldn’t help but agree, even as he stared down at their entwined fingers, trying to figure out when he started to feel comfortable enough with this man to not pull away from this kind of physical contact. Cobb seemed to notice though and pulled his hand away with an awkward cough.

“Well, I need to do some exercises,” Vanth said, rising to his feet as Din slowly curled his fingers around the space where Cobb’s had been. “Recovery won’t happen without a helpin’ hand!”

“Do you need some?”

Cobb paused, as surprised as Din was by the question. “What?”

Since he’d come this far… “Help. With the exercises.”

The Jedi continued to stare at him for a good while, long enough that it was starting to become uncomfortable, but then his hazel eyes brightened with a smile that must have made the temperature rise within the Crest; why else would he suddenly feel so warm?

“I’d like that.”

Over the next hour or so, Din watched as Cobb stretched and pulled his body this way and that, warming up his body before moving into exercises to strengthen it. There wasn’t much to do there, but after he was done he called on Din’s assistance, and he set himself on a crate to give instructions.

For the following half an hour Din’s hands held tense leg muscles, curling feet and a narrow waist. His hands kneaded and pulled and pushed at muscles and joints as Cobb groaned and sighed, relaxing with each touch until he was drooping in his seat. Din sent him to his bunk to get some sleep, but he himself couldn’t convince himself to chase sleep.

He may have been wearing his gloves, but the warmth of another living body had seeped through. Even now he could still feel it, making his fingertips tingle as he rubbed them together. The blasphemous thought of removing his gloves the next time entered his mind and he shuddered, both at the ease with which it slipped into his mind, and at the idea of fewer layers between them.

This was dangerous. Cobb was dangerous. He should leave him to make his own way as soon as possible, or he’d pull him into a life of temptation. The Jedi was probably only putting up with him because he was helping him find the kid anyway.

And yet the thought of being parted from him made his stomach churn.

-*-*-

Arvala-7 was a planet that looked like half the planets Din had been to; barren, rocky and dry. There were few clouds in the sky to offer shade, and the surface was uneven and impossible to land on near the location the child was supposedly in. The Razor Crest had to be set down some miles out on a clearing, much to his annoyance, but it was just another aspect he was used to by this point.

“His presence is stronger now,” Cobb said as they stepped off the ramp, looking out across the landscape. “He’s scared.”

“Is he in any danger?” Din asked, locking the Crest as he pulled his sniper rifle from his back to look down the scope, but all he could see was rocks and a few blurrgs, their lumbering forms gathered in a herd as they searched the landscape for food.

“I don’t think— Watch out!”

The breath was stolen from his lungs as Cobb shoved him back, arms wrapped around his waist before the ground was taken from beneath his feet. He landed, surprisingly, on his feet a few metres back, just as a blurrg that had managed to sneak up on him charged through the space he had just been in. It skidded to a halt with an indignant cry and turned towards them, clawing at the ground, even as a second appeared from the direction it had come from.

Din brought his rifle up, ready to fire, but once again he was disturbed as Cobb pushed the barrel down.

“Wait!” the Jedi said, his voice hushed as he held his open hand towards the beasts. “Just… wait.”

Din eyed the beasts, both of whom looked visibly aggressive, but then, suddenly, they stopped clawing at the ground, their growls calming into warbling calls, and they swayed from side to side.

“Sh,” Cobb hushed, and Din risked a glance towards him to find his eyes had closed with a calm, almost blank, expression, until his lips twitched in a light smile. “There. No need to be so angry, huh?”

“... Cobb?”

The Jedi waved back at him, even as he kept his attention on the blurrgs as he opened his eyes. “We scared you, yeah? I’m sorry. We didn’t mean to startle ya.” He stepped away from Din and closer to the blurrg that had charged. “Easy girl, easy.”

Din gripped his rifle like it was the only thing keeping him alive, watching the scene unfearl before him as his heart beat a staccato in his throat. He itched to pull the trigger, to put these animals down and keep them from hurting them, to protect, but then Cobb’s hand came to rest atop the blurrg’s head and it… purred?

“You’re a good girl, aren’t ya?” Cobb said as he started to pet the creature, chuckling when the second approached to butt its head against his side. “No need to be so pushy.”

The tip of Din’s rifle touched the ground as he watched in awe at the man he was hesitant to call his friend, the man who was scratching at them like they were loth cats and making them croon like one too. Cobb was a mass of impossibilities, and he did it all with a smile on his face.

“Din, c’m’ere.”

And with just as bright a smile he was dragging him into it.

“I don’t think—”

“They want to meet you.”

Stars, how was he supposed to say no to those eyes? This had gone beyond dangerous and into deadly territory.

Against his better judgement. Din set his rifle over his shoulder and approached, his steps short and slow to delay the journey’s end, and yet somehow he ended up at Cobb’s side under his amused gaze.

“Hold out your hand.”

Din stared at the blurrgs with suspicion, but he followed Cobb’s instruction, allowing the man to gently press his gloved palm on the first blurrg’s head. It snorted and he jolted his hand away, which, in turn, brought another of those chuckles from Cobb’s lips.

“She senses your nerves.”

Din sent him a look, but the Jedi ignored him, petting the second before allowing it to lead him away. Leaving Din alone with the creature.

“Cobb?”

“I believe in you, Din!”

Din gritted his teeth and looked back at the blurrg, which was becoming more agitated the further Cobb was from them.

“Cobb…”

The blurrg growled.

Din was on the ground before he could blink, groaning as the rifle dug into his back.

“We can ride them to the child!” Cobb called from where he was standing with his blurrg.

Din huffed and pulled himself to his feet, pulling the rifle out with every intention of using the stunning prong to subdue his foe, but instead it flew from his fingers and into the Jedi’s hand.

“Not like that.”

Din scowled at him and his strange magic, but had to turn his attention back to the blurrg as it charged again.

“I could fly us there and drop you off!”

“I can’t do this without your help.”

The sincerity in those words was so potent that it almost distracted Din from the charging animal before him. As it was, he just managed to roll out of the way.

“Then why can’t you use your magic to help?”

“Because if we get separated or something happens to me, you need to be able to control her.”

The logic was sound, and he hated it.

“Any tips?”

“Be confident!”

Great advice.

——————————————————————

Not writing Cobb's POV feels so weird, like I'm detached from him, but it's still interesting to see things through only our Mando's eyes.

Only 1 chapter left!

Finale

[official-weasley]

Meant to Be (Charlie Weasley x OC)

What happens when Bill brings home a girl and Charlie is completely awestruck by her?

WARNINGS: curse words, minor angst

Chapter 16

Charlie

“Charlie, mate.” I took my eyes off Ren for a split second to let Andrew know I acknowledged his voice. “What’s going on with you and Rhylee?”

“What do you mean?” My eyes still on the dragon, my wand in the air, levitating his dinner towards him.

“She seems…distracted.” Andrew chose the last word carefully. “And as if she’s avoiding you.”

“I don’t know.” I shrugged my shoulders. “Haven’t noticed.”

“Don’t give me that. What’s going on?” He persisted.

“I noticed it too. She’s a little off lately.” John joined the conversation. “What’s up with her?”

“As I said, I don’t know.” I said through my teeth as Ren started paying more attention to us than his meal.

“Has something happen between the two of you?” John didn’t stop.

Ren finally jumped for his piece of meat and I turned to them.

“Look, I am not having this conversation for the third time this week.” I rubbed my fingers against my temples. “Peter asked me the same thing yesterday. And Evan and Theo the day before and I am sorry to disappoint you but I don’t have an answer for you.” I went to grab the box with food and walked past him to go feed the next dragon.

I wasn’t lying and they weren’t wrong. Something was going on with her. She missed work twice in the past two weeks and she has been avoiding me to the point that it was obvious to the rest of our team.

I gave her two days off so she could go to London as she insisted on talking to Nick. I don’t know if she actually did it because I haven’t seen her until the second she had to show up for work again.

She doesn’t talk to me and if I say something at work, she simply nods her head and follows my order. She never makes eye contact and eats at a separate table from ours. She hasn’t been out on a Friday or Saturday ever since that party and she doesn’t really talk to anyone if she absolutely doesn’t have to.

All and all, she looks completely miserable.

I don’t know what to do about it. Peter tried talking to her, being her boss, but she said she was fine. I knew he wouldn’t get a word out of her, at this point, I don’t think even I could.

I miss her.

Her energy at work and her playfulness. The way her laughter fills the room and how she ignites something in my chest when she smiles at me.

I haven’t seen any of that since her two days off. I don’t know what happened between her and Nick, if she ever made it to London. It was frustrating because, for the first time, I felt as if I couldn’t read her. The look in her eyes was foreign to me. She didn’t feel guilty like that morning when she woke up at my place. She wasn’t happy either. She looked tired, to be honest, and full of regret.

I just wish I would know what for. I tried talking to her a few times but she always made some dumb excuse and hurried off to Merlin knows where. I was concerned for her. As her co-worker and as her friend. I miss talking to her and going for a run and I hate that she completely isolated herself from everybody and I hate it even more that I am struggling to get through to her.

“Don’t you think you should talk to her? Ask her what’s wrong?” John disturbed my train of thoughts.

“You think I didn’t try that?” I chortled.

“She looks miserable. We have to do something.” Andrew scratched his head, thinking.

“I’ll try talking to her again. Perhaps I can get through to her this time.” I sighed.

If my co-workers were concerned for her, I had to do something about it. They know I still have feelings for her and they are not going to stop pressuring me until she is back to normal.

The thing is, I’m afraid that that might not happen. What if I ruined everything by sleeping with her after that party? What if she completely shut down because of it?

I wish I could somehow stop my feelings. The whole thing was getting out of control and I was powerless over it. I was hoping that by her not talking to me, my feelings for her would go away but they didn’t and I hated it. I just wanted to be there for her. Help her with whatever she is dealing with.

She has been avoiding me to the point that I can’t even help her with the dragon case. I don’t even know if she made any progress or if she got the trial date yet. I felt horrible about the whole thing and it was making me sick. It also made me desperate and it was time for me to do something about it.

The next morning I woke up and saw that the sky was cloudless. I dressed up quickly and without making myself some coffee like I usually did, I hiked to my sunrise gazing spot. I hoped she would be there so I can catch her alone. It might just be the only time she would be willing to talk to me.

I stopped right before reaching the peak. I was getting nervous. I couldn’t help to shake the feeling that this all had to do with me and I wanted to be the last person to make her sad. I wanted to be the guy to put a smile on her face not make her cry herself to sleep.

I inhaled sharply and let the fresh morning air fill my lungs and made my way to the top. I was right. She was there, at our usual spot.

Ever since we became friends and I learned how to control my feelings and got over my guilt, we have been coming here to watch the sunrise together. It was the best way for us to bond and it was private. Even though it hurt thinking that we were nothing more than friends, I longed for those moments again.

I wanted her to be able to talk to me. I, out of all people, know how it’s like when you bottle something up and not talk to anybody about it. I wanted to be her friend if I can’t be more.

“Thought I might find you here.” I said in a soft voice, careful not to startle her.

“I was just leaving.” She started to get on her feet.

“Don’t.” I tried grabbing her wrist to stop her but she stepped away from me.

“Rhy, you have to tell me what is going on.” I looked at her but her eyes were looking at everything around me.

“Just…leave me alone, Charlie.” She dusted her pants and started walking away.

“I can’t do that.” I tried snatching her hand one more time and this time I succeeded.

“Yes…you…can.” She said through clenched teeth. “Now let go of my hand.” I loosened the grip and she took a step backward.

“Okay, that’s enough!” I raised my voice.

I didn’t like it but it made her look at me. She was on the verge of tears and I could sense she was looking for a way to escape. I will not let her get out of this so easily. She can’t go on like this.

“What in the bloody hell happened to you in those two days that you said you will visit Nick?” She flinched when I mentioned his name.

“It doesn’t matter, Charlie.” She spoke after a few seconds of thinking about what to say. Probably to feed me another lie. “It doesn’t concern you.”

“The hell it doesn’t.” I took a step closer to her and she instantly took one backward. “I’m your friend and I’m concerned for you. Our whole team is. You have to let us help you.”

“Help me?” She let out an incredulous laugh. “The last time I checked I can take care of myself just fine!” “You don’t look fine to me.” I bit my tongue after saying that but it was the truth.

She looked paler than usual. Her hair was all over the place and she constantly looked tired.

“Thanks for the compliment.” She scoffed and started walking downhill.

I ran after her. I can’t let her get away like this. She might be done talking but I wasn’t even halfway through. I don’t care if we both miss work, I am getting to the bottom of this. I put my hand on her shoulder and turned her around. She was skinnier too as if she hasn’t been eating for days.

“You will tell me what is wrong or I’m firing you.” I had no idea where that came from but I was getting desperate.

I didn’t know how else to convince her to tell me what was making her not talk to me, be late to work, and destroy herself like this.

“Look…” She sighed and bowed her head. “I can’t repeat what happened between us, Charlie.”

“I didn’t know I was coming on to you.” I blinked at her. “I just want to talk to you, friend to friend.”

“As I said…” She swallowed hard. “I can’t.”

“You are trying to throw that night in my face and it’s honestly insulting.” She looked up at my words. “You know I know you better than that so stop lying to me.”

“I’m not lying.” She rolled her eyes.

“Yes, Rhylee. You are.” I tightened the grip on her shoulders. “I want the truth, Rhy.” I lowered my tone and lifted her chin for her to look at me but she was avoiding my gaze.

“I went to see Nick.” She finally said after a long pause, still looking away. “I told him everything.”

“Okay.” I said slowly.

I wanted her to continue.

“He took it pretty hard.” Her eyes started to water as she reminisced on it.

“Did you…”

“Break up?” Her eyes finally locked with mine and the wish of it being true sparked in her eyes. “No.”

That made my heart stop.

She was staying with him?

Or should I rephrase it.

He was willing to forgive her?

I mean, good for him, perhaps Bill underestimated him but I can’t deny I was hoping that this would be her escape ticket. Somehow, I still thought that we might end up together.

This is a fucking nightmare, isn’t it? I can’t believe that she was going to stay with him after everything that happened between us. It might only have been one night but I know that neither of us saw it that way.

“He…” She bit her lip.

“What?” I encouraged her to speak.

“He told me that he’ll stay with me if I stop talking to you.” She blurted out.

I let go of her. She was joking, right? I was in complete shock. He gave her an ultimatum and she took it? She actually obeyed him. She chose him over me?

She chose him over me…

If the information that they didn’t break up broke my heart, then this fucking shattered it.

“What?” I breathed.

I didn’t know how to respond to such bullshit.

“You wanted the truth and here it is, Charlie.” She cried.

“Oh, yes! I see how happy your choice makes you!” I pointed at her face which was beginning to be soaked by her tears again.

“What do you want me to say?” She barked at me.

“Oh, I don’t know…” I put my hands on my head. I wanted to scream, I was so angry. “How about you admit to yourself that you are not happy with him and move on with your fucking life!”

“You’re the one that needs to move on, Charles!” She shouted at my face.

I started breathing faster and I felt as if I couldn’t move, as if someone stupefied me. What was going through her head? Why would she want to torture herself so much?

“You’re going to say that you’re happy with him?” I knew I should stop talking but if we were going to shout in each other’s face we are going all the way.

“Don’t do this, Charlie.” She begged.

“Are you happy with him?” I repeated the question. “Because it sure doesn’t look like it.”

“You don’t understand.” She shook her head.

“Then fucking enlighten me, why don’t you!” I was the one who raised my voice now.

“How would you feel if your partner told you they slept with someone else? It’s only natural in the way he reacted. He loves me and he is willing to forgive me if I do one simple thing for him.”

Was she seriously defending him?

“One simple thing.” I laughed sarcastically. “Tell me, Rhylee…” I scratched my chin, bowing my head. “Who’s your closest friend here?”

There was a moment of silence. Another tear ran down her face. She didn’t answer.

“That’s what I thought.” I bobbed my head. “He asked you to stop talking to me and just like that…” I snapped my fingers. “You obliged. Not even telling me. Not even warning me.”

I pressed my lips together. I was so furious.

“Were you ever planning on telling me this? Or did you think I would simply let it go? Ignore the fact that you are late for work. That we are all worried about you. That you lock yourself in your hut the second we are done with work? That’s not life, Rhy.”

I stepped closer to her again. She was just standing there like a child being scolded by their mother, looking at the ground. She knew I was right. She knew she was making a mistake but she blinded herself, trying to convince herself that she made the right choice.

“When was the last time you were in a relationship?” She asked calmly. “In a serious relationship, with real problems not just a one-night stand with some bimbo from the neighboring village?”

“6 years ago.” I bit my cheek.

“Then don’t pretend you know what I am going through.” She turned around and started walking away.

“You deserve better.” She stopped at my words and looked at me over her shoulder.

“Excuse me?” She asked, pretending she didn’t hear me.

“I said that you deserve better.” I repeated myself.

“Life isn’t a fairytale, Charlie. Sometimes we simply can’t get what we want.” She wiped a tear off her face, her gaze on me just for a second longer before she turned her head and ran down the hill.

I didn’t stop her this time. I knew it was meaningless. I knew she made up her mind. But there it was again. The silence that was supposed to be filled with words. Her eyes that were saying she wanted to tell me more but couldn’t. What was stopping her? Why was she so determined to stay with him?

I don’t know what hurt more; the fact that she gave up our friendship to stay with the guy she cheated on or the fact that I now know I lost her forever.

Probably both.

I turned around and sat where she was sitting before and stared into the distance. I wasn’t observing the sunrise. To be honest I didn’t even notice it. I was distracted by the pain in my chest.

By my broken heart.

By the fact that I will never be with her and I was beating myself with the question…why?

Why did she choose him?

[sevenkittensinatrenchcoat]

The Broadway Revival Doesn’t Get Comedy

Here’s another long essay hating on the Broadway Revival. I promise that this will be the last one of these, because I think I’ve summed up all the problems I have with it by this point.

The title of this essay isn’t universally true. There is good comedy in the Broadway Revival. But, most of it comes from the actors improvising. When it comes to the comic relief numbers of the show, the changes in choreography and staging, and even in plot in one case, generally fail to understand how the jokes in the numbers work.

Now, I know that explaining the joke makes it less funny, but in order to explain why the 2016 comedy doesn’t work, I’ll have to explain why older versions do. Why is the 1998 film funny, and why are bootlegs/pro-shots of earlier productions funny, in places where 2016 falls flat?

To begin with, you might be wondering, “in a show full of strange nonsense and little concrete plot, what would you call a comic relief number?”. There are plenty of numbers in the show that have a comedic tone to them that I don’t consider comic relief numbers. The Rum Tum Tugger is usually full of comedic bits, for example, but it’s not a comic relief number. Why? Because it does something other than be funny and lighten the mood. It’s a song all about a major character who’s just appeared. Apart form Chorus Tugger in the opening, who usually doesn’t stand out much, we haven’t seen Tugger yet. After the cats leave after The Naming of Cats, we don’t see him again until his own number, where he interrupts the party to tell us what he’s all about. Tugger, as a character, is introduced as high-energy and a troublemaker, which leads to comedy, so the song has comedic moments, but it’s not purely a comic relief number.

Most songs in Cats are like this. They’re songs about what makes a character tick, and because these characters are onstage for most of the show, it’s good to let the audience get to know them. But, there are a few numbers in the show that don’t introduce characters and don’t advance the plot. They’re just entertaining little skits that don’t fit anywhere else. These are the comic relief numbers.

In a full production of Cats, in which no songs are cut, there are three comic relief numbers: Bustopher Jones, The Pekes and the Pollicles, and Growltiger’s Last Stand. The first one might be confusing. Bustopher Jones introduces a character. Shouldn’t it count as one of the character songs like The Rum Tum Tugger? The difference is that, while Tugger sticks around and plays a role in other events of the show, Bustopher is only present for his number. He shows up, there’s a song, and then he leaves and is never seen again. This makes the number into something of a non-sequiter.

Gus the Theatre Cat also revolves around a character who’s really only there for his own song. In productions that cut Growltiger, this is all you see of him. But, Gus the Theatre Cat isn’t a comic relief number because it’s one of the few songs that doesn’t have a comedic tone. There are jokes here and there, and in most stage productions the character of Gus is more comedic than he is in the 1998 film, but the song has a softer tone, no dancing, and Gus eventually leaves in tears. Though the 1998 film stands out in this regard, even in other productions, this is not a comic relief number.

Another thing you’ll notice is that Bustopher Jones, The Pekes and the Pollicles, and Growltiger all come after more serious, less energetic numbers. Grizabella the Glamor Cat and Gus the Theatre Cat are both quite sad, and the play basically changes the subject to lighten the mood. Old Deuteronomy isn’t sad, but it’s slow and more serious. When the tone of the show starts to get serious, a comic relief number is added to lighten the mood. The pattern breaks with Macavity, with the song followed by a fight, to show that the stakes have been raised and things are getting serious. Mister Mistoffelees comes along as a more upbeat number, but the change in tone here is pretty much a plot point. Everything seems bleak and then Tugger starts this number to give everyone hope. Mistoffelees restores power after the light goes out as part of this shift. We were at our literal darkest moment and now there’s a spark of hope.

So, now that we know what numbers are comic relief numbers, it’s time to go into how and why they work, or how and why they don’t when things go wrong. Since the Broadway Revival cuts Growltiger, I’ll focus more on the other two, but the new version of The Pekes and the Pollicles borrows from Growltiger, so the stuff that was borrowed will also have to be discussed. But, before we get into all that messy business, let’s take a look at Bustopher Jones:

Bustopher Jones:

Most of the comedy in Bustopher Jones, though there are a few simple fat jokes in there, comes from how other characters react to Bustopher. Bustopher keeps an air of dignity about him as he formally greets everyone and discusses his clubs. He’s not the joke here. This is a song of Amusing Background Events. With the queens, you have Jenny’s crush on Bustopher and Bombalurina clearly not getting it but trying to be polite about it and not kinkshame Jenny over it. With the toms, you have the kittens getting over-excited and the older cats, desperate to impress Bustopher, rushing to stop them from making a scene, making a scene themselves in the process.

In particular, there are three characters to watch in this number who provide the best comedy: Mistoffelees, Skimbleshanks, and Munkustrap. Two out of the three of them, which two depends on the production, will go into fanboy mode, often competing for Bustopher’s attention. Broadway-based productions tend to have Misto and Skimble compete for Bustopher’s attention, while London-based productions, such as the 1998 film, tend to put more focus on Munkustrap. He barely contains his excitement and is shown to be Not So Above It All, though he’s usually more level-headed than whichever cat, Misto or Skimble, he’s being contrasted with.

Basically, the joke is that Bustopher is considered super-important, despite not having a clear place in the tribe’s hierarchy, and everyone goes nuts trying to impress him, get his attention, and make sure that everything is perfect and nothing goes wrong. This joke works best when Bustopher is actually pretty laid-back and everyone’s freaking out over nothing.

The 2016 version doesn’t get this. You do see characters scrambling around, trying to make sure everything’s perfect, and get Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer as far away from Bustopher as possible, but, at the moment when it’s the most important to get this right, it fails.

The biggest problem with the number is Bustopher’s solo. It’s performed well enough, like most of this production. That’s not the problem. There are two main problems: a staging problem and a writing problem. The staging problem is where the above explanation comes in: When Bustopher sings his solo, no one gathers near him. In other productions, a group of toms gather around Bustopher where they hang on his every word, try to get his attention, and try to look important in front of the others. There’s always one, Misto, Skimble, or, more rarely, Munkustrap, who tries to stand way too close. But, 2016 Bustopher is given plenty of room to just stand there and face the audience. No one seems to be paying that much attention to what he’s saying.

There’s also a problem with how the solo is edited and the break that follows it. The problem isn’t that Bustopher’s solo is shortened. Lots of productions do that. The problem is in what’s cut.

The full solo consists of four quatrains: sets of four lines. The second and fourth lines rhyme with each other, so each quatrain ends on a rhyme: rules and Schools, Blimp’s and shrimps, bones and Drones, Glutton and mutton.

The original Broadway run of the show, and many other productions copying it, the second and third quatrains are cut. You go from Joint Superior Schools to “If I’m seen in a hurry”. The 2016 version cuts the first and second quatrains, only including the second half of the solo. The problem with this is that it cuts the first quatrain.

Cutting directly to the third quatrain is musically awkward, because there’s no build-up to this point in the song that’s song loudly with a choir backing it up. But, when it comes to the joke that’s being told in the solo, cutting the first quatrain removes the set-up and changes what the joke is. With the first quatrain, the solo is about the various clubs Bustopher goes to. Starting at the third quatrain, the joke is mainly a list of foods that Bustopher likes, even though the clubs are mentioned.

The first quatrain is the only portion of the solo to not mention food at all. It’s all about the social etiquette of gentlemens clubs. A gentleman in the early 20th century wasn’t supposed to belong to more than one club. So, in order to go to eight or nine, as Bustopher does, one would have to make sure that the clubs didn’t meet too close together, so that someone from one club might see them at another. It’s part of his strategy in going from club to club: he imitates the etiquette of the humans on the surface, while actually breaking all the rules behind their backs.

But, the point is, Bustopher is listing the various clubs he’s managed to get food from. He’s sort of cheating them all, though I doubt they’d care that a cat was frequenting more than one club. Going to different clubs that are located far enough apart that people from club A are unlikely to walk past the meeting place of club B is quite a feat and it takes a lot of skill to pull off. Bustopher knows what clubs he can do this with and what food he can get from them. If he wants seafood, he goes to the Stage and Screen. If he wants curry, he can go to the Siamese or the Glutton. Foxes is too close to one of his other clubs for him to go there, but he can get fresh meat of the same quality at Blimp’s.

The first quatrain sets up and explains the joke. Without this set-up, the joke becomes one about gluttony, making it more of a fat joke than it is when the first quatrain is included. To make matters even worse, the 2016 choreography adds this instrumental break where the cats put together a restaurant for Bustopher and give him various foods, doubling down on the joke being purely about Bustopher’s gluttony, not how he messes with high society. It’s still a joke and people might still find it funny, but it’s not the same joke and comes very close to being “it’s funny cuz he fat”.

The entire point of the number is that Bustopher’s weight is part of why he’s celebrated. He’s fat because he’s clever, managing to trick a bunch of rich humans into giving him fancy food off of their own plates. Because he looks like he’s wearing a tuxedo and spats at all times, the gentlemen at the clubs see him as fitting in, even though he’s most likely a stray. If he had an owner who was feeding him, he wouldn’t have developed this whole routine for getting food. The people who probably wouldn’t give food to a homeless human, seeing it as “feeding strays”, will literally feed a stray just for looking like he belongs. It combines two things that cats tend to love: food and messing with stupid humans.

So, the lack of emphasis on how other characters react to Bustopher and the reason why they react that way weakens the joke. But, to give credit where credit is due, I do like how they double down on Bustopher being Tugger for older women but have Jellylorum seem to be just as into him as Jenny is.

The Pekes and the Pollicles:

Here’s where the Broadway Revival goes completely off the rails. Both The Pekes and the Pollicles and Growltiger are often cut from productions to save time. They’re both “play within a play” scenes, which can be a bit confusing in a show that rarely ever uses dialogue to introduce the numbers. The Pekes and the Pollicles in particular seems to come out of nowhere. “Yay! Old Deuteronomy is here! Now let’s make fun of dogs!”

So, the Broadway Revival, like every production, had to decide what to do with these numbers. Would it keep them? Cut one of them? Cut both of them? But, for some reason, they invented a new option: Combine the two.

2016 Pekes and Pollicles isn’t The Pekes and the Pollicles. It’s a combination of The Pekes and the Pollicles and Growltiger’s Last Stand. The song is moved to where Growltiger is normally done and parts of the melody are mixed in. The Rumpus Cat, as a character, is equated to Growltiger as a character Gus played back in the day. This is where the trouble starts.

Now, I’ll once again stop to give credit where credit is due: The 2016 opening to The Pekes and the Pollicles is really sweet, with Old Deuteronomy encouraging Gus to play the Rumpus Cat one more time. Growltiger is basically a dream sequence of Gus flashing back to when he played Growltiger. Getting to see him actually relive his glory days one last time is nice. If they used this opening for Growltiger instead of The Pekes and the Pollicles, it would’ve been a good addition to the number.

So, Growltiger and The Pekes and the Pollicles are both plays within a play. Why not combine them? Well, the main problem is that The Rumpus Cat is not Growltiger.

Now, a lot of people hate Growltiger’s Last Stand and I’m not going to act like it’s some kind of masterpiece. I personally find the number to be sort of middle-of-the-road. If you see it more than once, the shock value of the cringey Asian stereotypes starts to wear off and, with a few exceptions, the number feels kind of dull. Andrew Lloyd Webber himself said that he was never really pleased with how Growltiger turned out and the London Revival rewrite might be worse than the original, at least musically. But, I’ve seen a few productions of Growltiger that I thought were kind of funny, usually by taking the racial stuff and sort of saying, “We know it’s bad and we can’t make it better, so we’ll just make it worse” and playing it up to the point of absurdity, like a parody of the sort of Yellow Peril stereotypes the song includes. I’ll also give credit to the Tecklenburg non-replica keeping the Siamese in silhouette behind a sheet.

When I say “The Rumpus Cat is not Growltiger”, I mean that how the two characters work comedically is completely different. You can’t just swap one for the other without rewriting the comedy of the entire number to match.

You’ll notice that Growltiger is in the title of Growltiger’s Last Stand. The song centers around Growltiger as the main character. The Pekes and the Pollicles includes the Rumpus Cat in the full title, but said title is so long that you rarely ever hear the song called that. The Rumpus Cat plays a key role in the story, but he shows up later on. The song isn’t about him. He’s not onstage for most of it.

This means that the comedy surrounding Growltiger and the comedy surrounding the Rumpus Cat work completely differently. The comedy of Growltiger is the comedy of Growltiger’s Last Stand. It all revolves around him. This is a joke based on a wacky character. The joke in The Pekes and the Pollicles isn’t about a single wacky character. It’s about a play where everything that could go wrong does with Munkustrap acting as the straight man. He’s the only one taking this seriously, perhaps a bit too seriously. The Rumpus Cat is just another thing that goes wrong. He’s funny, but so is everyone else who calls attention to themselves throughout the number.

Putting Gus as the Rumpus Cat into the Pekes and Pollicles is performing the number but with the joke from Growltiger. The Rumpus Cat enters the story too late for this to work, so Gus spends most of the number onstage, sharing the narrator role with Munkustrap. Furthermore, in order to include Rumpus Catified versions of Growltiger’s jokes, pretty much every memorable joke from The Pekes and the Pollicles is cut. Nothing goes wrong with the rest of the cast. The first Peke and Pollicle say their lines correctly. The March of the Pollicles and the Scottish Pollicles are cut, removing all the gags there, including Tugger playing the bagpipes at such a fitting moment that only Munkustrap is upset at first.

The fact that nobody messes up is especially weird in this version, because it’s spontaneous. Old Deuteronomy decides that Gus should get to play the Rumpus Cat again and everyone just automatically knows their role in the play. The Pekes and the Pollicles is a show Munkustrap put together for Old Deuteronomy. He had everything planned out. There were rehearsals. But, nobody showed up to rehearsals and nothing goes according to plan. If the play were spontaneous and everyone messed up, it wouldn’t be as funny, because that’s what you’d expect. Nobody had time to learn what to do, so they don’t do it right.

Instead of having the comedy come from the cast of the play messing up, the comedy is about how over-the-top Gus is. He’s narrating now, so why is Munkustrap even there? He does sort of play the straight man to Gus’ antics, but, because Munkustrap isn’t in charge here, he can’t show as much frustration. He can only awkwardly question things and be ignored. The worst case of this is with the “heathen Chinese” line. Most modern productions replace “heathen” with a less offensive word. It almost always feels a bit forced, but it works well enough. Some productions just leave the line as is, which makes it seem like they don’t care, but it doesn’t make the problem any worse. 2016 instead decides to call attention to how bad the line is by having Munkustrap question it, with the line being the older Gus’ fault. Not only does this make Gus less likable, it doesn’t actually solve the problem. The song can’t stop to acknowledge it, so, even though Munkustrap questions it, he still says the line anyway, making the whole thing a waste of time. They should’ve either changed the line or left it alone. But, they basically tried to have it both ways.

Trying to have it both ways is the fatal flaw of the number. They could’ve cut Growltiger like the 1998 film did. If you hadn’t seen any production of the show before seeing the 1998 film, you’d never guess that there was supposed to be a song between Gus and Skimbleshanks. It can be easily edited out. They also could’ve kept Growltiger and used redesigned, less stereotypical costumes for the Siamese, like the Vienna Revival did. It wouldn’t solve everything, but an effort would’ve been made. But, by combining Growltiger with another number, they both did and didn’t cut the number. Instead, the messed with and weakened The Pekes and the Pollicles so they could reference Growltiger without actually performing it.

The places were Growltiger’s melody is used for lines in The Pekes and the Pollicles feel forced, because those words weren’t written for that tune. That basically sums up the whole problem. One song was combined with another in a way that felt forced and awkward, because the elements of the two numbers weren’t meant to go together.

In conclusion, I think the Broadway Revival’s comedic downfall came from a sort of indecisiveness. They wanted to keep things the same but also change them, possibly not even knowing what they wanted to change them into, only that they wanted to change them. They wanted to shorten Bustopher’s solo, but not the way it’d been done before. They wanted to cut Growltiger, but not in the way it’d been done before. They wanted to do Cats, but not in the way it’d been done before. 

There’s nothing wrong with wanting to try new things. This could’ve been the template for an interesting non-replica if they really committed to doing things in a different way. But, they got stuck in between, wanting to be different, but not wanting to be too different. So, they tried to fix what wasn’t broken and sell it as New and Improved. This paved the way for the 2019 film to do the same, but with even worse comedy and without the advantage of the numbers being performed well by a devoted cast who knew what they were doing.

TLDR: 2016 messes with comedic numbers in ways that weaken them. It makes Bustopher Jones more completely about gluttony and tries to combine The Pekes and the Pollicles with Growltiger, failing both.

[softrenjunnie]

collection l njm (part one)

Na Jaemin, star quarterback and infamous fuckboy, likes to collect girls. It’s a well-known fact - yet every girl swoons over and crushes on him. Well, everyone except you; yet you’re the one he’s longing the most for to add to his collection. But are you sure that’s the only thing he wants to do to you?

part one/?

pairing: reader x jaemin, reader x jeno

characters: fuckboy!jaemin, brother!donghyuck, football players!nct dream, hina, koeun and possibly other former smrookies

genre: fluff, suggestive themes, smut in the next part, college!au

word count: 6.5k

warnings: swearwords, mentions of sex & lowkey bullying (nothing major)

note: aaaah sorry for being so slow with the hogwarts!aus, and part 2 of the royal wedding, and the ways to say “i love you” requests... i’ve been working on this and requests on @softseongminnie​ instead... anyways i hope you like this one! feel free to leave any comments or feedback, and i hope you all have a great day! also uhhhh i had some problems w making this appear in the tags yesterday when i was supposed to post it so sorry for the delay!! 

series masterlist l full masterlist

You put your spare key into the hole of Donghyuck’s door, turning it around hastily and practically throwing yourself inside.

“LEE DONGHYUCK!” you yelled, not even bothering to close the door behind you first. He was sitting, as usual, in front of his television with a game console in his hand. And, of course, his best friend Jaemin was sitting next to him. “I can't believe you!”

“What?” he mumbled, his eyes not leaving the screen and his mind obviously not focusing on you.

“You broke up with Hina,” you spat, the disgust in your voice not easy to mistake. “On a Monday after school. Over a text message!”

“So?”

“Pause the fucking game this exact moment, Na Jaemin.” Even though he was a tough guy, and usually wasn’t afraid of anything, Jaemin understood that you were furious and that this whole situation would explode if he didn’t obey. Your brother finally turned his head and looked at you where you were now standing a few feet away from them. “You dated for what, five months? You can’t just break up like that after such a long relationship. She's wrecked, I'm telling you.”

“She was boring, what was I supposed to do?” Jaemin snickered from next to him and you sighed.

“You realized as late as after five months that she’s boring?”

Donghyuck shook his head. “No, I knew it all along.”

“Then why-”

“Because the sex was good,” he hummed, earning a yooo and a high-five from Jaemin.

“You’re both disgusting,” you muttered before walking over to his desk, pulling out the chair and sitting down on it. You took up a takeout menu from the pile of papers lying in front of you, and you were about to ask them if they wanted some Chinese when Donghyuck cut you off again.

“You’re just grumpy because you haven’t had good sex in a while.”

Your jaw dropped as he unpaused the game and they started playing again. “And why’s that, do you think? Couldn’t be because you make sure no one in your team even looks at me.”

“They wouldn’t have sex with you anyway, a sister of a brother is like their own sister-”

But now, it was Donghyuck’s time to be interrupted. By Jaemin. “I wouldn’t mind banging you, though.” A wide smirk was spread on his lips, but he was instantly kicked off the couch he was sitting on by the other boy.

“You are not having sex with my sister just to have another girl to collect, you idiot,” Donghyuck huffed and Jaemin stood up, massaging his butt that he had fallen on before sitting down again.

Pretty much everyone called Jaemin a fuckboy. It was well-known across campus that he “collected” girls - almost every weekend morning new girls were leaving his room in the frat house in yesterday’s clothes. No one got more than one night with him, yet everyone wanted him. Except for you. Almost the entire cheer team was swooning over him at all times; how could they not? He was tall, handsome, the quarterback and MVP of the football team - and according to many, the best sex of your life. But none of this mattered to you. Jaemin had from the day that you two met acted like you were just another girl who was head over heels for him, who he could toy around with. You tried your best to dismiss him and show him that you didn’t care about him at all - yet he always kept trying.

“So if I’m doing her for something more long-lasting than just my collection, it’s okay?” he asked, and Donghyuck was about to answer when you cut in.

“Don’t I have a say in this?”

“No,” they both said at the same time and you shook your head.

“Besides, I’m not letting you date my little sister, we’ve been over this a thousand times...”

“I’m only a few minutes younger, get over yourself.” You sighed when you could tell than Donghyuck was grinning and stood up, taking the menu with you. “So I take that as you two don’t want takeout?”

“Get me a number 23,” Donghyuck said, and you snorted as if to tell him that he had forgotten the magic word. “Please.”

“Should’ve thought about the fact that you're so lazy that you need your sister to get you dinner before you acted like an ass, hm?” You shuffled over to the door, opening it. “You’ll only get it if when I come back, you’ve gone to Hina's room and apologized to her.” You left the room through the front door, but before you closed it behind you, you could hear Jaemin’s voice again.

“Number 11 with tofu! Thank you!”

--

Despite his constant (failed) effortless tries to flirt with you, you and Jaemin were actually pretty good friends. A best friend of your brother had always become a friend to you, and Jaemin was no exception. The two of you would bicker over anything and everything, and nobody could stop you from calling each other rude names. Whenever your practices were at the same time, you’d be spending half the time sticking out your tongue at him, but during games you were always the biggest fan of him (and Donghyuck, who was a wide receiver on the team).

You weren’t denying that Jaemin was extremely attractive, and you weren’t denying that it was tempting to give in to him. But you had decided that you weren’t going to for two reasons. The first was your extreme hate of his view on girls; you weren’t just going to be treated like an item, someone to just have sex with.  And the second reason was that there were probably a bunch of guys out there who’d take care of you and love you without viewing you as an object. And to confirm that, you had actually found someone who seemed to really care about you.

Lee Jeno had transferred to your school only a few months ago, having gotten in on a football scholarship just like so many others on the NCT Narwhals football team. He played running back and since he was new in the team, you assumed he didn’t know about your brother’s stupid ban on dating you. And you didn’t tell him, either, as it would put him in a tough position. You hadn’t gone especially far, but you had been going on a few dates that you had kept secret to make sure Donghyuck didn’t find out. Because as much as you wanted to hold Jeno’s hand in public and kiss him in front of your friends, you knew that Donghyuck was extremely overprotective of you as he’d scared away many of your boyfriends before - and you knew he’d do it again.

So the following evening when your cheerleading practice was at the same time as the football practice, you made a great effort trying to focus on your own training instead of looking over at the boys. And every time you let your mind and eyes slip, you had to force yourself to keep a straight face and hold back a blush because Jeno kept winking and smirking at you.

What you didn’t see, though, was that Jaemin had noticed the rookie’s lack of focus and how his eyes fluttered back and forth between the two teams’ practices. It didn’t take him long to figure out that Jeno was so interested in your practice because of a girl.

After the practice had ended, Jaemin was about to leave with Donghyuck to hit the gym, but spotted Jeno leaning against the fence surrounding the field, looking over at the cheer team wrapping up. He jogged over.

“Hey, fresh meat!” he shouted, making Jeno turn and look at him with a questioning but slightly happy look. When Jaemin arrived, he leaned against the fence too. “Checking someone out?”

Jeno shrugged. “I guess. Or, more like, waiting for,” he said.

“Can I ask who?” Jaemin grinned and crashed his shoulder into the other boy’s playfully. “If it’s Koeun, you should know she’s very tough to handle even though she looks sweet. Hina is a good fuck, but I should warn you that she kind of has this on-and-off-thing with Donghyuck. And-“

Jeno interrupted him. “Actually, she wants to keep things secret for a while we’re getting used to each other." He paused for a moment. "But let me tell you, it's going slooowlyy..."

Jaemin chuckled, rolling his eyes playfully. “Booriiing,” he hollered, making Jeno laugh.

“I agree, bro. I mean, if we’re being honest, I think we’re going a bit too slow,” he muttered. “Not that I can tell her that, of course. Might have to get a plan B going in the meantime, if you get what I’m saying.” He wiggled his eyebrows.

Jaemin opened his mouth a little in shock. Ever since the first time he had seen Jeno, he had thought that the new boy looked so innocent and sweet; not as rough or “fuckboy”-like as he himself and some of the other boys on the team. So it surprised him to hear those kinds of words from Jeno’s mouth.

Jaemin patted his shoulder, standing up properly again and shooting a glance behind him where he could see Donghyuck waiting impatiently for him. “If you need any help with that, let me know. I have some connections.”

“Thanks, bro,” Jeno said, giving Jaemin a bro-hug before leaning back onto the fence and letting Jaemin strut off.

Jeno didn’t have to wait long until it was your turn to walk up to him (after making sure there were no other boys in sight, of course). You greeted him with a quick hug, both of you chatting about your practices for a while before you questioned him on the main reason you had gone up to him.

“What were you talking to Jaemin about?” you asked.

“He just...” His eyes wandered over the field as he tried to make something up. “He invited me to a party on Friday. Do you want to come too?”

You shrugged. ”If it’s at their frat house then no, thanks.”

Jeno frowned slightly. “Why’s that?”

You checked the time on your phone, and as you had forgotten that your coach had been late today (and then forced you all finish late), it was later than you had anticipated. “Can we maybe talk about this in like an hour? I need to proofread my paper on the Cold War until tomorrow and I also need to take a shower, and-“

“Mr. Kim’s class? American history?” he asked, interrupting you. You nodded. “I can read it and give you notes if you’d like? I sent in that paper last week and got full marks.”

And just over thirty minutes later, you opened the door to your dorm to find Jeno standing there freshly showered, just like you were. He snickered when his eyes caught the oversized t-shirt hanging past your pyjama shorts, and as it was actually Donghyuck’s shirt and you still hadn’t told Jeno he was your brother, you didn’t say anything but only pulled him inside the room. You pushed him down to sit by your desk, the document for your essay opened on your laptop and ready to be beta-read. You mumbled a quick “don’t judge” before pressing your lips to his cheek and running off to your stove to make some tea.

Just as you had poured two cups full to the brim with some earl gray, there was a knock on your door. You put the kettle back on the stove before going over to the door, peeping through the little hole before opening to see who it was.

It was Jaemin.

You opened the door but only a big enough that you could stick your face out through the hole. “Yes?”

“Donghyuck sent me here to ask you-“ He stopped mid-sentence. “Why aren’t you opening the door?”

“What do you mean? It’s open,” you uttered, opening it only a few centimeters more than before, still not enough for him to look inside the room. You couldn’t have him see the boy who was currently sitting by your desk, it would ruin everything because he would definitely tell your brother and then Jeno would be bullied. You knew so, because they had done it before to the boys before you’d done as little as study with.

“Are you hiding something?” he questioned. “Is it a boy? Oh, I know someone who’d love to hear about this!”

“Go away,” you told him through your gritted teeth.

Jaemin, however, didn’t seem to find this situation as serious as you were. He was grinning brightly. “At least tell me who it is, will you? Is it someone from the team?” Your eyebrows knotted in frustration, and you considered just slamming the door into his face. Then, what seemed like a funny idea came into his mind. “Is it that new guy? Jeno?”

Your jaw dropped. How’d he guess it right? Instantly after realizing your absurd give-away, you tried to cover it up by adapting the same expression as earlier and trying to come up with something witty to say. “No, I’m-“

“Is it really Jeno?” Your expression wasn’t the only one that had changed. Jaemin wasn’t grinning anymore. He looked shocked too. In one swift motion, he grabbed a hold of your wrist, pulling you out through the door and pulling it closed behind you. “You can’t date him, he-“

You curt him off. “Yeah? And why’s that?” you spat. “I’m fucking tired of Donghyuck thinking he can determine the entire outcome of my life. I’m going to do what I want to do, no matter what he says.”

Jaemin shook his head, his eyes scanning the corridor around you to make sure nobody was near enough to hear either of you. “It’s not about him. It’s about Jeno. You...” His voice trailed away as he tried to find words. He couldn’t just straight up tell you what he’d heard today - that Jeno was even considering going to someone else while he was seeing you - it really didn’t feel like his place. And he didn’t think you’d believe him anyway. “You can’t trust him.”

“Fuck, Jaemin, I actually thought you’d grow up over these years. But I guess not.” He looked at you, confusion prominent in his face. “You’re just jealous, huh? You’re mad someone else is giving me attention for once. You know what? I’m tired of you always talking about me like I belong to you or something. Like I’m only here for you to have sex with. Surprise! Not every girl on this campus wants to suck your dick.”

You felt almost out of breath after your rant. But it felt so good. Finally, you’d said all those things you’d been thinking for an eternity. It was like a weight was lifted off your chest.

“So, if you don’t mind, I’m going to go inside to a person who actually cares about me.” You opened your door, squeezing yourself in through the opening and just as you were about to close it, Jaemin stuck his foot in through the hole, keeping it opened.

“I promise you, he’s up to no good,” he breathed. But you only shook your head, giving his foot a slight kick to make it move, and closing the door fully. And you didn’t forget to lock it, just in case.

--

The days went by and you didn’t speak a single word to Jaemin. What had been on about, anyway? Was he really that obsessed with you that even seeing you studying with someone else made him so upset? You couldn’t help wondering if he was so intent on having sex with every girl on campus that he would actually get jealous over one of them dating someone who wasn't Na Jaemin.

At lunch every day or in your shared classes, the two of you sat quiet, only speaking if spoken to, with frowns upon both of your faces. Donghyuck had noticed instantly, but it took until lunch break on Thursday before he said anything.

“Why are you two so quiet?” he questioned in a mocking tone with his mouth full of rice, pointing his chopsticks towards the two of you who were seated at the opposite sides of the table. “Are you fighting or something?”

You threw a glare over at Jaemin, who seemingly did the same to you, before rolling your eyes and looking down at your food again.

“You’re seriously not going to tell me? Sis, what-“

You had to control yourself not to slam your fists onto the table. Taking a deep breath to calm yourself down, you stood up and grabbed your tray, looking back at Jaemin. “Go ahead and tell him if you’d like,” you started. “Then everyone can know how obsessed you are with me.” As you turned around to leave, you could hear him huff loudly but Donghyuck stayed quiet, which he usually wouldn’t be unless he had been confused. And that you assumed he would continue being, because you thought that no threats in the world from him would be able to make Jaemin admit that he was just jealous.

--

The day after, you decided it would be better to skip lunch than have to face Jaemin again. Besides, you had some maths homework due on Monday that you felt like you should work on, so the library felt like a good option compared to the cafeteria. But after only studying for a few minutes, your phone beeped. It was a text from Jeno.

jenooo <3 : where are you?

You quickly typed out a message telling him that you were at your usual table in the library, before putting away your phone and trying to focus on your work again. This time, it took a bit longer until you were interrupted again - but it wasn’t by your phone. It was because someone was walking up to the table.

When you looked up, you saw Jeno’s sweet eye-smile shining down on you. “You didn’t answer my text,” he started before putting down a brown paper bag on the table. “so I got you a sandwich.”

You smiled, opening the bag and pulling it out. “Thank you,” you hummed at him.

He pulled out a chair on the opposite side of the table and sat down. “I noticed that you weren’t sitting at your usual table,” he said and you nodded slowly. “Why?”

You hadn't told him about your "talk" with Jaemin. And you still hadn't told him that Donghyuck was your brother, which you had been planning to do after he read your essay; you had just been too caught up in the moment and too angry to say anything.

“I had a fight with Jaemin,” you mumbled as you unwrapped the sandwich. “He’s just jealous of you.”

Jeno frowned and you took a bite. “He knows about us?” You shrugged.

“Well, he saw us together once so I guess he understood.” You took another bite, chewing it down quickly. “He’s not jealous jealous, he just wants to fuck me. And since I’m not letting that happen, he’s taking it out on you. Only in his mind, of course.” You glanced at him. “Or, I hope?”

Jeno chuckled and shook his head, smiling. “No, he hasn’t said anything to me. Thanks for the warning, though.”

You knew Jaemin wouldn’t physically hurt someone only from jealousy. You knew he wasn’t like that. As cocky as he may act, he wouldn’t hurt a fly without a proper reason. Though, you were a bit scared he would take out his anger in another way. And you would soon realize that you hadn't been too wrong to think he would do something to get revenge on Jeno.

Friday nights were for football, and today was no exception. The team was up against one of the bottom teams in the league, so everyone was quite relaxed and sure it would be an easy game. You and the girls in the cheer team had just greeted the audience and were shaking your pompoms at them when the game started, and the NCT Narwhals got possession of the ball. Jaemin, as the quarterback, started off the match with two beautiful passes to Donghyuck, making the team move down the field by a great bit. From their formation, you could tell that their next play was going to be a running play - which meant that Jaemin would toss the ball to Jeno who would try to run as far as possible. You watched intently, hoping for everyone’s best that it would be successful; but it wasn’t. The pass, which was only a few meters in distance, didn’t make it to Jeno’s hands. It was too short, making Jeno having to stop in his tracks to pick up the ball from the ground and therefor lose distance.

You knew it wasn’t Jeno’s fault. It could’ve been an honest mistake, but you weren’t so sure about that. To you, it had seemed like Jaemin hadn’t even tried. You shook it off, trying to tell yourself that it wouldn’t happen again. But then, a few plays later, Jaemin threw another pass to Jeno that was too short. The audience roared, as the team now was in a very tough position with a lot of distance left and only one down left. Luckily, the team was known to be bold - so even though the risk was high, and it was only at the beginning of the game, Jaemin decided to pass to Donghyuck, and the pass laid in your brother’s hands just a few moments later. It was almost as if Jaemin was like a light switch; one second he was playing without a flaw, and the next he was playing with only flaws. And he showed that irregularity the very next play when he was supposed to hand the ball over to Jeno, but instead only dropped it to the ground, not making a single effort to pick it up again. As Jeno had already picked up speed in the direction past the ball, he had no chance of turning around and getting the ball. Especially since the opponents had already grabbed it from their feet, running towards the endzone to score.

By now, you were furious. It was clear he was doing it on purpose. And he kept on doing it. You could hear yells from the bleachers and whispers from your teammates about how bad Jeno was playing and how he should be substituted. You thought that they obviously had no idea how the game worked, but you luckily did, so you knew who was actually to blame.

At the end of the game, when Jaemin nonchalantly missed his hand-over to Jeno at the last play of the game, making them miss the last chance to score and take back the lead that Jaemin had lost them, he had crossed the line.

When both teams were on their way to their changing rooms, you spotted Jaemin walking alongside Renjun, a defensive player - and they both looked way more satisfied than the rest of the team combined. There was a subtle smile on Jaemin’s lips; one that certainly wasn’t appropriate for what had just happened. You dropped your pompoms right in your spot and hurried over to him before he could make it off the field.

“You idiot,” you spat, pushing his chest with your hands to make him stop. “You guys just fucking lost to them!”

Jaemin chuckled. “It’s not my fault your loverboy can’t catch a ball,” he breathed.

You couldn’t control your impulses - your hand slapped across his face before you could even react. But you didn’t regret it. He held up a hand to cover his cheek, feeling the skin where you had slapped him. He looked as if he was in pain but trying to cover it up by grinning. “You think I’m stupid? I haven’t missed a single game Donghyuck has played ever since he started, so don’t think you can trick me into thinking that Jeno is the one to blame when I know the game well enough to see that it was you.”

Jaemin shook his head, looking past you to where Donghyuck was walking nearer, wondering what all the commotion was about. “I’ve told you, he’s not as good as you think.”

You had an urge to slap him again, but you held back, taking a deep breath. “And I always thought you had at least a bit of good in you, but I guess we're both wrong.”

You turned on your heel and rushed off, almost knocking into your confused brother but quickly sidestepping him. You ignored his calls of your name and questions of why you were so angry - was that really so obvious? - and continued back to your dorm room again.

Behind your back, Jaemin had finally dropped his hand from his throbbing cheek and rolled his eyes at the way you were storming away. “Your sister sure knows how to throw a punch, huh?” he muttered. “Did you teach her that?”

“Watch out before I punch you too.”

--

The only person you talked to before bed that night was Jeno. Or, maybe not talk - what you did was send him a text message, apologizing for how Jaemin had acted right before putting your phone away to try not to think about the situation more. You had gone to bed with one of your favorite tv shows playing on the television screen in the room, trying to block out all thoughts of Jaemin, Donghyuck, and Jeno. It had worked while you were awake, though you hadn’t exactly gotten a good night's sleep - you had been dreaming several nightmares that you couldn't recall the plot of, but what you could remember was that they were about Jeno and Jaemin.

When there was a knock on your door, you were pulled out of your sleep. Yelling a quick “coming!” in the direction of the door, you got out of bed and pulled on a t-shit and a pair of pyjama pants. Making your way towards the door, you combed through your hair with your fingers, hoping to help fix your appearance a bit - but it wasn’t necessary, as the one standing on the other side of the door was Hina.

“Oh, hey,” you said, inviting her inside. “What’s up?”

“I don’t know, I just need to take my mind off some things, distract myself,” she huffed, taking a seat by your desk.

“Perfect,” you started, taking off the shirt you’d put on hastily (muttering to yourself something about how dirty it was and how you needed to do some laundry soon), instead putting on a clean one and changing your pants to a pair of jeans. “so do I!” You smiled at her.

“You want to catch some lunch, then?”

“Already?” You frowned, looking up at the clock on your wall. You instantly took back what you said, as it was nearing two in the afternoon.

“You must’ve had a good night's sleep?” Hina hummed, spinning a few times on the chair.

“I wish,” you muttered, checking yourself out in the mirror next to the door, making sure you looked alright to go out. Then, you grabbed your phone and opened it for the first time since last night, and out of all of the notifications you’d gotten, there were four that stood out. Four texts from Jeno; one from just about three hours ago, three from yesterday. You started off by reading the old ones.

jenooo <3 : it’s all fine! it’s not your fault. it’s all on him, you don’t need to defend him. the coach knows jaemin was the bad player, though not why, so he isn’t mad at me.

jenooo <3 : do you want to meet up now? i didn't see you after the game when i went to the bleachers, i thought you’d stay with your friends as usual

jenooo <3 : welp, you not answering me either means that you’re ignoring me or that you’ve already gone to bed. hoping for the latter. sleep well :)

Then, your eyes landed on the last one.

jenooo <3 : in case it makes you feel any better, i just saw one of the girls from your team leave his room

It did make you feel a bit better. You hoped it meant that Jaemin had moved on, at least a little - even if you yourself were happy with Jeno, you didn’t want a jealous boy run after you. Especially if said boy was more than happy to go great lengths to make sure Jeno was unhappy.

Though, you were a bit confused as to how Jeno could know that. He didn’t live in the frat house, he lived on campus like any regular student.

Shaking the thought out of your head, you turned back to Hina. “Chinese?”

You two went to the little Chinese restaurant right next to campus, and thankfully it was almost empty so the two of you could talk without worrying that someone would eavesdrop (except for the staff, but you wondered how interested they were in your gossip anyway). You told her all about Jeno and Jaemin, and Hina told you all about how Donghyuck had come to apologize to her, saying that he had joked and didn’t really want to break up with her (to which you made a mental note to kick him the next time you saw him).

You loved the food at the restaurant, but another reason you went there was the fortune cookies you could get for free after the meal. So, naturally, both of you reached into the bowl on the counter after paying to grab a cookie each. You cracked your cookie open right in the middle, put a piece of it in your mouth before reading the paper that had been inside of it out loud.

“You will realize that you’ve taken the wrong side of an argument and your enemy will become your friend.” You snorted. “No way, Jaemin is a dick.”

Hina read hers out loud too. “Don’t give out your trust too easily. What’s that even supposed to mean?” She scoffed, as you picked up another cookie from the bowl, thinking that you deserved another shot as the first one was completely ridiculous.

“Hey, I got the same one!” you exclaimed and you both laughed it off as you exited the restaurant.

“You’re coming tonight, aren’t you?” Hina asked, shivering slightly from the cold wind blowing over her body in contrast to the heat from inside the restaurant. “To the party at their frat house? I heard Jeno will be there.”

You shook your head. “I already told him I wouldn’t come,” you said.

“Then make it a surprise for him!” she squealed. “It’ll be really cute, because he will be sitting there all alone and thinking about you and then - there you are!” You chuckled at her excitement, but thought to yourself that she was right. It could be fun to surprise him - and besides, you hadn’t been to a party in a while now, so maybe it was about time to let loose. And some alcohol in your system most likely wouldn't make it harder for you to forget about Jaemin.

So just a few hours later, you left your room wearing a cute white blouse tucked into a pair of jean shorts with Hina, making your way towards the frat house. Upon entering, the smell of liquor combined with too strong perfumes and cheap cologne crashed over you, though you weren't surprised. You had been to a fair share of college parties in your days, even before you started college yourself; since Donghyuck often was invited to parties because he was a player (and apparently they were invited to all parties, no matter the age), he dragged you along since he said he needed company to make him seem less lonely. But he always made you swear you wouldn’t tell anyone you were siblings and that he was bribing you with cookies...

Speaking of Donghyuck, he was one of the first people you spotted when you entered the big lounge. He was sitting next to Jaemin (of course) in a couch to your left, the both of them seemingly happily engrossed in a conversation - until Jaemin’s eyes accidentally landed on you. His grin turned into a frown and he looked away instantly. You rolled your eyes mentally but smiled as you waved goodbye to Hina who was making her way to your brother, telling you to “go find him!”.

You continued your journey through the house, looking around in several different rooms that were all filled with drunk students making out or fighting - but Jeno was nowhere to be seen. You found it strange, but then you realized that he might just not have arrived yet. You decided to make your way back to the lounge to find someone else to talk to, even if it was your brother and Hina because you had a feeling Jaemin would stay quiet as he had these last few days. You took a shortcut through the kitchen, but something caught your eyes before you left. You found Jeno, but not like you wanted to see him.

You almost didn’t recognize that it was him at first where he was standing by the wall, since his face was being covered by another girl’s face. Her lips on his, Jeno’s eyes closed in satisfaction and his hands on her hips, keeping her close.

You couldn’t believe your eyes at first, but as you took a few steps closer and sure enough, it was really him. As if he could sense your presence, his eyes flung open and after searching the room, they flew to you. He pushed the girl away and took a few steps towards you. “I- I can explain-“

You shook your head and cut him off. “No,” you spat. “Don’t come near me. Ever again.” As of that, you turned around and made your way towards the exit.

Tears were threatening to fall from your eyes any second now, but you forced them back, not wanting anyone here to see you as weak. You had trusted Jeno. You believed he wasn’t like any other boy. But it seemed like he was.

As you had been too focused on not crying, you hadn’t been aware of your surroundings. You accidentally bumped into someone, stumbling a little backwards before apologizing quietly and trying to move past the person. But that someone grabbed your wrist, holding you back. Looking up, you could see who it was through your tear-stained eyes. Jaemin.

“Are you okay?” he asked, and at first you froze, not sure what to answer. You had been fighting with him for days now, but... he had been the one to tell you to stay away from Jeno.

So even if it hurt your pride, you didn’t pull away. You shook your head, and as he saw the lonely tears dragging their way down your cheeks, he felt his heart breaking a bit. He pulled on your arm, dragging you along with him to a room at the end of the corridor you had been standing in, the room you recognized as his own from the times you had hung out in there with him and Donghyuck. As you walked inside, he closed the door behind you and was just about to walk over to his bedside lamp to turn it on when-

You threw your arms around his waist, hugging him tightly. You completely let go, no longer holding back your feelings. The tears that you had pressed back were now falling down your face rapidly. And if Jaemin’s heart didn’t break earlier, it sure did now.

He pulled his arms around you too, holding you close to him as you put your face into the soft material of his hoodie by his shoulder, letting it get wet from soaking up all of your tears. But he didn’t mind. One of his hands drew circles on your back, hoping to calm you down, as he started mumbling to you along the lines of “I’m here” and “you’ll be okay”.

As you finally calmed down a bit, you pulled away from him, wiping away the last of your tears on the back of your hand. Jaemin’s voice was low as he spoke. “What happened?”

“Jeno,” you sighed. “He- I saw him with another girl.”

He remained silent.

“Are you going to go all I told you so on me now?” you huffed, looking down on the floor.

“No, why would I?” he asked. You shrugged, shutting your eyes when you felt tears coming near again. “I’m sorry, really. I know how much you liked him and wanted it to work.” You didn’t know what to say, so you just sighed again. “A few days ago, he told me that he was seeing someone. And he said that he thought she was taking things too slow, so he was going to find someone else to have on the side.” You looked up at him. “I didn’t know he meant you at first, but when I found out you were seeing him, I told you to stay away but-“ He cut himself off, dragging a hand through his hair as his eyes wandered over the room. “I should’ve told you the truth right away. I’m sorry.”

You shook your head. “No, I’m the one who should be sorry,” you said, voice barely above a whisper. “I should’ve listened to you.”

“I heard him talk shit about me to Renjun this morning, but the only reason he was even here in the house was that he had slept on the couch with some cheerleader in his arms.” You gasped. That’s why he’d known about Jaemin when he texted you earlier today? “That guy isn't good. Bad luck that it was him you got involved with.”

There was another moment of silence, but a comfortable one. You felt good. Sure, you were angry at Jeno, but you weren’t angry at Jaemin anymore; and frankly, that was more important.

“So... are we good?”

You nodded, and were about to stand up to go and get out of the room when you had an impulse you couldn’t control. And before you could think, you leaned forward and pushed your lips onto his.