#also its nice to color people skin instead of blue skin every once in a while

[screebyy]

who put a leash on this man i just wanna talk

[p0pcorn-hearts]

It's Kawaii~Chan time

I am gonna ramble about my rewrite so yknow, enter the theater with caution

I just wanna start off by saying I renamed her to Hanami, which is the Japanese word for flowers viewing, more specifically viewing cherry blossoms. I figured this fit her more "cutesy" design as well as her usually pink and white color pallette. Also excuse me if they look bad, these were made a bit ago and I, for some reason, decided it'd be best to use the mirror tool the entire time

So, for her Phoenix Drop High uniform I just redesigned the uniform and gave her the same every girl will have. I changed it to have a blazer and a longer skirt like actual school uniforms in America although I kept the socks, loafers, and bow because those all fit, I'm just also giving everyone the same pair of socks.

Her season 1 outfit has been drastically changed. I decided I wanted her to have a more lolita-esque style instead of just vaguely cute, and let's all be real here, her season 1 outfit sucked. So, I gave her a longer, puffier skirt, a shit ton of ruffles, and some cute gloves. I think now is also the time to have a little fun fact section about meif'was. Their nails and hair grow faster than humans, with their nails growing than both humans and werewolves. That's why Hanami has long nails and freakishly long hair

Next up is her adorable Love~Love Paradise outfit. I'm actually super happy with how it turned out and I'm in love with her little buns. Her bathing suit with all its ruffles was made up by me :D

Her Lover's Lane outfit is the one that went the most unchanged because it's honestly my favorite outfit of her's. It just looks the most visually appealing with the addition of dark pink being a primary color. I just changed the dress up a bit with the neckline and added ruffles

Starlight is honestly my favorite. There's just something about color block clothes that itches a scratch in my brain. The giant bow and see-through ruffles also added a lot. You cannot thank me though, I took this design from someone else's swimsuit. Her nails changing for the first time since season 1 and now having blue with the pink is also a nice nod to how she opens up to Zane about not really being herself

When Angels Fall. Oh God, When Angels Fall. I fucking *hate* their "disguises" in When Angels Fall. Buy I'll get into that later, right now, it's just Hanami. I didn't like her outfit much because she had literally never worn pants in the series before and to just suddenly toss her in a pair of jeans and t-shirt? Like it's supposed to show how drap everything is but why would she just have a t-shirt and jeans packed?? Starlight is an island resort and theme park, so most people will be wearing bathing suits, much more breathable fabrics than *jeans* and Starlight merch. That's why I gave her a different bathing suit bottom and a Starlight shirt. It's the least you can do when you're the most visually distinct character. She also is covered in bandages because cats, when stressed, will over groom and can injure themselves. So Hanami picks and scratches at her skin often due to stress so she has very chipped nail polish and is covered in bandages. Also she cut her hair (sad violin noises)

Her final outfit is for my "season 7". Jess hasn't made it but I want to eventually tie up my rewrite, so I'm making one. Me and my girlfriend refer to it as the "epilogue" although it's not really an epilogue, she just called it that once and I can't think of a better name. I gave her essentially a mix of her season 1 and Lover's Lane outfits because why not

Now that her designs are done I get to infodump about her personality (hehe)

She's basically the same as Kawaii~Chan, but I make her a better person. She doesn't manipulate Aphmau into joined her bakesale! She also tones down a lot, so while she still struggles with boundaries, especially when it comes to shipping, she doesn't have a fucking shipping shrine in her basement. She's also autistic in my rewrite, so her not getting boundaries, baking being her special interest, and her masking her behavior to fit what she thinks people want/expect of her all comes from that. Will I maybe end up projecting on her? With the shipping stuff yeah, but only because Aphmau and Kawaii~Chan made me think shipping people together until they stopped being friends with you was normal

So thats it, the exit to the theater is on the right, make sure to throw your trash away on the way out. Have a good day

[musclesaber]

Let's Play a Game: Prologue

[Story Gallery] [Game Board]

Four men wake up in spandex bodysuits with a familiar board game laid out in front of them. Only to mind a masked man willing to fulfill their wildest dreams if they're willing to play.

You stirred in your seat as you started to awaken. Your mind felt cloudy and hazy as you woke up from your deep slumber. Your eyes fluttered open and you groaned from pure exhaustion. You brought your hands up to rub your eyes of your sleepiness. As the cobwebs of your mind began to fall away, you started to take in what you could see. You weren’t lying in bed as you thought you would be. Instead you were sitting in a cold metal chair. The room you were in was extremely dark and it was only lit by a single light over a floating metal table in the middle of the room. Looking down at your body, you weren’t wearing your normal clothes either. You were in a skin tight blue spandex bodysuit that hugged every inch of your body. 

“Good morning players.” A low robotic voice spoke from the darkness around you. The light above your head flickered until a hologram of a man appeared hovering over the table. The man was clad in a similar skin tight spandex bodysuit to yours, only his was black and he wore a ghost face mask. The hologram’s muscles were bodybuilder levels of huge. His pecs created a shelf with how far they stuck out from his body. His arms were pushing the confines of the bodysuit to their limit with the cannonballs he had inside. His abs looked chiseled into the suit and his legs were bigger than most people’s waists. “I am your host, the Banker.” 

The hologram had lit up more of the room and you could see three other men sitting around you. Each one wearing a similar bodysuit of a different color. “Where are we? What is this place? What are we wearing?” asked the man in the purple body suit sitting to your right.

“All will be revealed in time, player,” came the voice. The Banker waved his arms and the table below him lit up. As the banker balled his hand into a fist, all of your chairs were pulled in close to the table. With a closer view, you saw a game board projected onto its metal surface. You all looked at the board and saw that it looked very similar to a common household game, but all of the pieces on the board looked different than any version you had ever seen.

“So you brought us here to play Monopoly? What the hell dude?” shouted the man in green from across the table. The man had stood up from the table and his impressive body came into your view. He was almost as big as the banker as the body suit accentuated every movement of his big muscles. 

“I’d advise you to sit down if you want any of the rewards that might come with the game,” said the Banker as he turned to face the man in red, giving you a nice view of his supple bubble butt. 

“No way! Fuck this! I’m out of here!” shouted the man in green as he started to stomp away from the group. Despite his massive muscles, you could tell he was one the shorter side compared to the rest of you.

“Sit Down!” yelled the Banker in a lower demonic tone. The man froze in his tracks and fell backwards as his chair honed in on him and caught him then brought him back to the table. “As I said before, all will be revealed in due time. You all will leave here as changed men once this game is over.” The four of you all looked at each other and then down at the game board.

“What kind of rewards will we be getting?” asked the man in red to your left. Getting a better look at him, you could tell he had some definition in his muscles, but nowhere close to the guy in green or the banker. You also noticed that you had to look down at him when he was speaking.

“Good question!” came the banker as his body swiveled to face him. “I have chosen the four of you because all of you share one common goal. To gain size and power.” Everyone’s eyes shot open as you all looked around at each other again, now sizing each other up. “The winner of the game will be bestowed with size and power beyond their wildest dreams.” 

“How?” you asked and the hologram turned to face you.

“Let me explain the rules of the game and you will find out.” The game board wooshed upward beside the Banker and enlarged itself. “The player in green wasn’t that far off from his assumption that this is Monopoly, but it does have a twist to it. Unlike in Monopoly, you won’t be buying the properties using your money. You will be using your size as currency. Allow me to demonstrate.”

A black figurine in the shape of a chest appeared on the game board as well as a floating pair of six sided dice. “I will roll my dice and move to the respective tile on the board. This much you know.” The banker grabbed the dice and threw them out onto the board. He rolled at 3 and 5 giving him 8. The game piece then hovered from the start and landed on Bulging Bicep Building. “Now I’m given the option to either buy this property or skip it. In this case, I’ll buy it.” As soon as those words were uttered, a black circle appeared on the Bulging Bicep Building property and each of you saw the Banker’s body suit begin to glow. Flexing one of his arms for you all to see, you watched his bicep swell and stretch the fabric of the body suit as it got bigger. His suit emitting a low hum as you saw the bicep *BWOOMP* bigger with every second. Inflating even bigger than the Banker’s own head. “The cost for buying these properties is the size you already possess. As you buy properties, the rest of your body will shrink.” As he spoke, the rest of the Banker’s body began to shrink. “But it is much harder to see since the loss is distributed across my entire body.”

“And once we own a property, can we steal other people’s money? Or size I guess?” asked the man in purple. Now closer to him, you could see that the man was on the heavier side. He had some muscle to him, but there was a healthy layer of fat sitting on top of the muscle that stretched the body suit. He was also the only person that you, at 6 feet tall, could look directly in the eye.

“Another great question! Yes you will. Let me show you.” The Banker waved his hands and another figurine appeared, this time a purple dildo. “If you were to roll an 8 and land on Bulging Bicep Building,” the figurine moved forward to where to black one was placed, “then you would pay me with size.” As he said it, the Banker’s biceps began to glow and grow again. This time inflating to the size of beach balls as they grew. 

“Wait, stop!” The rest of the group turned and looked at the man in purple to see his arms withering away. There was a similar glow on his body suit as his meaty arms had gone from beefy to twigs in only a few seconds. The Banker basked in the embrace of his massive biceps and hit a double bicep pose to prove his point.

“As you can see, depending on what spot you land on determines what size you’ll lose. If you are out of the necessary size to make the payment, size will be taken from either your overall body size or another specific part,” said the banker as he flexed his bicep again. “When being paid in size, you’ll always get the size of whatever the property is designated as. But any excess size you might have on one body part can always be transferred to another.” 

“What do you mean by excess size?” asked the man in red.

“Excess size refers to how much more size you have above what is required. To maintain a property, you must keep a certain amount of size in that part of your body. If it ever drops below the minimum value, you could lose it to any power hungry players who land on that tile. Here watch.” The banker grunted as his giant bicep began to shrink back down. You all stared in disbelief as the Banker’s chest lit up and began to inflate until they stuck out almost a foot away from him. “I transferred some of the size I acquired from the purple player to my pecs, but still kept the minimum required size for my bicep.” The Banker brought his arms up and showed you that his arm had gone back down to the beach ball size.

“Hey, can I have my arms back so I don’t start off in the negative though?” asked the man in purple as he was still looking down at his arms in annoyance.

“I’ll do you one better. In order to make this fair, all of you will start off with the same size.” The Banker snapped his fingers and all of your bodysuits started to hum and glow. Feeling at first like your body was getting shocked from every part of you, you all let out a moan as your muscles tensed and flexed themselves. Looking down at yourself, you could see your pecs swelling out in front of your eyes. Obscuring the view of your stomach as you felt your core tightening and growing into abs. 

Looking to your left, you see the guy in red let out a low moan as the bulge in his pants swelled out from him. Before, you couldn’t get a good view of any of the others’ packages, but now you could see his dick slowly crawling up his washboard abs. With his massive balls sloshing beneath it as well.

“Now this is what I’m talking about!” shouted the purple man as he grunted with strength as he flexed his renewed biceps. He reached over to one of them and squeezed the ball of muscle inside the fabric. “It’s all real!” he cried in awe as he let out another moan and continued to swell.

“Fuck yes…” you heard someone utter under their breath. Before, the Banker had obscured your view of the man in green, but now it was almost like the Banker eclipsed him as the green man’s frame grew wider. His shoulders extended out to rival a door frame’s width. You now didn’t need to peer down at him as his head bucked up and up to meet your eyes. All of your legs under the table running into one another as they elongated and thickened.

Once the transformation had finished, all of you were audibly panting as your chests heaved up and down with new size. Your bodysuits stopped humming and you saw a light flickering from your wrist. You reached down and fiddled with the light only to see a screen light up in front of you when it did. On the screen, it read as follows:

Player: Blue

Total Size: 225

Back: 25

Arms: 25

Core: 25

Chest: 25

Legs: 25

Cock: 25

Height: 75

“Gentleman, now that you’ve gotten a taste for some of the prizes that can be won in this challenge, let’s play a game.”

[mutigold]

∞ teacher’s pet — i.n.

summary: in which the top student fails a test and gets extra help from his favorite professor.

pairing: student!jeongin x teacher!reader

genre: college!au

warning: sub!jeongin, dom!reader, pet play, noona kink, exhibitionism, handjob, ear licking, humiliation, quirofilia, seduction, he still has his braces.

word count: 1.9k

authors note: i really don’t know where this idea came from, but all i know is subby jeongin = 🤤. thank you for supporting me! watching people like my little writings really make my day.. hope y’all enjoy this <3. stream “Going Dumb”!

“would anyone like to explain what it means to be dependent on an organism?”

jeongin’s eyes concentrated on you, as he listened to your voice encompassing the leveled platform. today’s lecture was based on the living organisms in the world and you seemed to be determined for everyone to learn the curriculum.

however, jeongin could not focus on anything except your figure. you were wearing a white skin-tight turtleneck and black formal pants that emphasize your ass. all topped off with a large suit jacket and black louis vuitton heels.

it overall made his heart jump for joy just enjoying the view.

he thought about how those heels would look wrapped around his waist as he pounds into you; screaming his name. or maybe how your tiny hand would slip around his throat as he begs for your come.

“mr. yang?”

jeongin quickly snaps out of his trance to hear you calling his name. and not in the way he wanted.

you looked up at him with sad eyes, upset at him for not paying attention to your favorite lesson. “what’s going through that head yours? is it more important than organisms?”

he quickly fixed his posture, shaking his head rapidly, and responded with, “n—no, i’m sorry noona. i just was thinking too hard about something. i’ll promise to listen from now on.”

you hummed with caution, continuing the biological lecture. the student sighs gratefully for you letting him go off easily and tries to at least take some notes.

“yo, i.n. you okay?” a familiar voice whispered.

jeongin turns to see his two close friends, seungmin and felix, staring down at him in question. “yeah, you seem a little off today.”

confirming he says, “uh. y—yeah; i’m okay.”

“mhmm. okay with staring professor y/n down huh?” felix smirks.

the heat on i.n. 's cheeks becomes noticeable when hearing about his staring. he then tries to ignore the statement by writing his name and the current date in his notebook.

“leave him alone felix. he’s just probably having some problems with the lesson; you should perhaps ask noona for help.” seungmin tries to intervene.

“yeah; i mean, maybe noona can also help you with other problems. if you know what i mean.” felix grins bumping jeongin’s arm.

“f—felix!”

“boys?! care to tell us what is so interesting other than my lesson?” your voice suddenly booms throughout the room. jeongin jumps at your tone and begins to apologize again once making you soften.

“that’s alright, but please pay attention. oh, and jeongin, stay after class for a few minutes to speak with me.”

he didn’t know what to think at that moment; with felix oohing in one of his ears and seungmin trying to shush him in his other or the fact that you wanted to talk to privately.

alone, with no one around, made his mind officially shut down.

“you wanted to speak with me noona?”

you shifted around to see jeongin’s stiff form; then took note of how nervous he looked and gave him a light smile. “hey, kiddo. i just wanted to see how you were doing lately.” you wished to see some type of relief release through him.

but unfortunately, that didn’t happen.

he still looked kind of anxious to speak with you, letting you know how intimidating you seemed. “hey it’s all good, you're not in trouble or anything, i promise. i’ve noticed how you’ve been acting recently in my class and how your scores dropped a little,” you reassured.

“ai! i’m so sorry noona!”

you giggle at the student’s consistent apologies. in your mind, you thought how cute he was; like a puppy aching to gain approval from its owner.

maybe you could make him as your puppy and work hard for that admiration.

immediately, you shake your head from the naughty images. ever since the semester started a few months ago, your thoughts almost ran around yang jeongin.

how his pretty smile, concealed by clear braces, shined at your speaking, how his crescent-shaped eyes followed your every move; making you feel sexy, how large and veiny his arms grew over time within the season, etc.

“that’s alright, jeongin. i just want you to feel comfortable in my lectures. how about this, you and i have a session later this evening to cover the material for the next exam. what do you think pup’?” you offering, accidentally calling him by the pet name you gave him.

after catching the tiny nickname, jeongin clumsy drops his possessions while feeling something swell in his pants. he begins to overthink the word. pup’? why did that sound so nice coming out of your mouth? and how was he gonna hide the fact that his dick got hard in the middle of their conversation?

“i–i’m sorry!”

“oh! no worries hun! here; let noona help you out.”

you instantly proceeded over, bent down, and gathered i.n.’s school objects. starting with some of his blue pens, his macbook, and then his green two-subject notebook. “n–noona! i got the notebook, it’s okay.” jeongin stuttered.

it was almost like he was trying hard to hide something in the notebook, and suddenly it all made sense as it opened to the front page.

yang y/n. it was his surname combined with your first name.

it seemed as if time swiftly froze with silence when discovering the secret. however, it didn’t bother you essentially much as jeongin thought it would have had. “aw, pup’, this is cute. yang y/n has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”

the air that was in jeongin’s lungs properly stopped working when distinguishing how seductive your tone became. “i–i..”

“relax a lil’ pup’. listen, will you promise to meet me later this eveningfor some tutoring. i think you could really use it. plus if you’re good–”

you shifted closer to the student’s ear lobe and whispered, “–noona could give you a reward.”

jeongin swore he felt some pre-cum drip down from his pants. “y–yes, noona.” he swallowed trying to moist his dry throat, then jumped moaning in pleasure when your small hand gripped around his erection.

“good. see you then, pup’.”

a few hours later, jeongin ends up at the university’s public library, not knowing what to expect. though, he did make sure to be ready for any possible situation. what did you mean by rewarding him? did you feel the same way he did?

you must have since you did touch his swollen cock during your conversation. or maybe it was just his imagination?

jeongin sighs restlessly thinking of the concept while waiting for your arrival. that soon ends as he hears your alluring voice greet out, “hiya pup’! ready for our lesson?”

he peers up from the library’s table to see you wearing informal clothing. a tight crew neck that reveals your smooth arms extending down to red-painted nails and large breasts bouncing with every step you take.

“ah! i hope you weren’t waiting too long, i got held up in traffic.”

“t–that’s okay noona! i just got here.”

you smile at his nervousness, now acknowledging where it came from, and sat down in the hard chair right next to him. “good, we can get started. i hope you’re ready,” you whispered, feeling an urge to dominate.

jeongin gulps recognizing a certain excitement coming from his pants within hearing your tone and replies with, “r–ready?”

“so, what does adaptation consist of?”

jeongin couldn’t comprehend what you were saying being he focused on the way your glossed-up lips looked. the way he could imagine it wrapped around cock or it traveling up and down the side of his neck molding kisses; it worked him to the point where he was solid hard.

“pup’, what is going through that mind of yours?”

“s–sorry. it’s just, i guess this lesson isn’t grasping in my head yet.” he tries to explain not wanting to upset you.

however, instead of upsetting you, your colored eyes just darken. “oh! i have any idea; remember when i said i would reward you if do good–”

jeongin nods excitedly, making you giggle.

“–well, i know you understand the concept of this chapter. so to push you a little more, i’ll ask you a question and if you get it right, that little cock of yours will get to come.”

the student freezes up at your approach, thinking it was a dream too good to be true. “w-wait what?”

“what is the definition of homeostasis?”

“i, uh, i think it's an organism's constant adjustment to maintain stable conditions in itself?”

you reached under the table discreetly and unbuttoned the pants on jeongin grasping his swollen cock. “o-oh my god, noona!”

“shh, pup’. you gotta be quiet for me; now onto the next question. who created the biogenesis theory?”

jeongin’s breath became too much for him to handle feeling the pre-cum drip from his blood-filled tip. “n–noona, please.”

“come on puppy, tell me the answer or i stop.”

his mind starts to rush trying to find the answer before you let him go. it took him a couple of seconds, but once he got it, he hurried to speak. “henry charlton bastain!”

“good puppy.” your tiny hand moves faster, satisfied with the statement. you felt his cock throbbing with every stroke you took. like jeongin, you dreamt of this same exact moment. you wanted to control the poor student every time he walked through your room, when he made eye contact with you, or even when his plump bottom lip was bitten from his teeth.

and finally, it was happening.

“oh, who’s a good puppy for noona?”

“m-me! i am noona.”

“that’s right pup’. next question, what are the five steps to the scientific method?”

i.n.’s vein from his cock popped out sensing the rubbing moving faster than before. “i only know four noona!”

“too bad, i wanted five or i slow down.” you coldly demand.

jeongin began to try to think hard on the five steps letting the sensation run through his body. “o-okay. it’s defining the problem, making a hypothesis, testing it, analyzing the results… then..”

your hand slows at his hesitation. “give me the last one puppy.”

“oh! noona, don’t stop! i–i. is it d–drawing the conclusions?”

“good puppy!”

his cock grows bigger when your finger grips at the base. then, you painted nails lightly scratch at his tight balls. “oh! noonaaa. that feels sooo goood. pleaseee.”

“continue to answer like a good pup’ then i’ll keep going.”

soon after the next few questions, jeongin sits near his breaking point. “nooonnnaaa! please!”

“grab your textbook and hold it up.”

i.n. clutches the hard-covered biology book to cover both you and him from public eyes. suddenly, you lower yourself to his lips, deeply kissing him with tongue, and wander towards his earlobe. “one more question, pup’. what does stimulus mean?”

“uh! noona! please let me come! make your puppy come!” he moans a little too loud.

“shh. answer the question, then i’ll let you come.”

“s-stimulus? it m-means anything an organism responds to.”

you then move your head to spit down to moist his penis. “good puppy! getting your small cock rubbed in front of everyone like a little slut.” you cup the back of his neck feeling the shivers release through him.

“you can come pup’, come for noona.”

jeongin then lets go, coming hard in your hand. “o-oh! thank you, thank you noona!”

after guiding him to his high, you let go of him and licked the white, sticky substance from your hand.

“good puppy. i’m sure you’ll be ready for that next exam.”

[ao3komorii]

The Silver Path (Spirit Blossom Thresh/Reader)

It is finally here! Just a note for people who played the spirit blossom event, I’ve decided to make Thresh more subdued/shy than he was in that event. Sort of a “what if instead of holding a grudge against Ahri after their conflict, he just got sad.” Nevertheless, hope you enjoy! Just as a note, there is smut at the end :)

-----

Checking one final time that you hadn’t forgotten anything, you folded the cloth over the carefully-packed items before picking up the woven basket. You could not risk forgetting even one tribute, as angering even one spirit would spell doom for the village; your grandmother had stressed that very severely when she had trained you. Leaving your home, you couldn’t help but feel nervous, even if this wasn’t the first time that you had made this trip.

You had been the village’s spirit guardian for six months now, ever since your grandmother had passed away. You hadn’t felt ready when the role had been passed to you, but you had no choice. It was probably for the better that you had no choice but to step into the role, since you doubted that you would ever feel truly ready for the responsibility that was now yours.

Mount Targon was tall, the tallest mountain in Runeterra by far, and also the most treacherous. Travelers came from places near and far to ascend to the peak, having heard of the mystic mountain that promised to open the heavens before any mortal that successfully made it to the top.

Many tried, and many failed, their bodies destined to never leave the mountain where their bodies had given out. The upper reaches of the mountain were unlivable, and nearly unclimbable, fraught with winds and storms and plagued by avalanches. The display of cosmic radiance offered by the peak would not be easily attained, and yet people would never stop trying.

Despite living far below the mountain’s peak in a small valley to the south, you were still not safe from its wrath. You had never experienced it yourself, but long ago, even the lower parts of the mountain had been uninhabitable. The area had been plagued by rockslides and inhabited by vicious animals, but the patience and determination of your ancestors had won out in the end.

It had all started when an ancestor of yours had climbed the mountain path in search of a way to make the land livable, but had instead found a door. On the other side of the door, they had discovered a passage to the world of spirits, and had bowed low, begging for their protection. In exchange, the spirits asked for a tithe to be paid every month when the moon was at its highest in the sky.

And since then, once a month a representative of the village would walk the spirit path to bring each spirit a gift, and in turn, your village would be protected. The responsibility had been passed down through your family, and as you were the last one of your family left after your grandmother had died, the task now fell to you.

There were ten spirits in all, and each had their own tastes. Your grandmother would never tell you what she brought them, insisting that you would have to develop your own relationship with the spirits by learning their preferences on your own. You had been terrified the first time you had walked the spirit path, leaving small trinkets you had knitted for the spirits, but to your great relief, no boulders or storms had struck your village in the days after. When you had returned the next month, some spirits had taken your gifts, and some had not, so you knew to bring a different gift to those pedestals the next month.

While you had never seen the spirits, you began to get a sense of what they liked; the spirit of the snake altar liked jewels and other shiny objects, the mushroom altar spirit liked small toys, and the antler altar spirit liked vegetables. Most of the spirits would accept whatever you brought, but a select few hadn’t accepted any yet, which had been a frustrating experience for you. But they hadn’t revoked their protection, so you assumed that they were willing to be patient with you until you presented them with something they liked.

Keeping your head down as you passed by the other residents of the village, you made your way to the base of the mountain. As you ascended the gentle incline, you went over the all-important rules in your head; enter no earlier than ten at night, and leave no later than midnight. The spirit gate was only open for two hours each month, and if you didn’t leave in time, you would be trapped in the spirit world for a month until the gate reopened. It had only happened a few times in the long history of your people’s time here, but nobody who had gotten stuck in the spirit realm had ever returned, which was more than enough of a deterrent for you.

You paused as you approached the spirit gate; you were a few minutes early, as was your usual routine, so now there was nothing to do but wait for the gate to open itself up to you. You could only hope that at least one of your previously-rejected gifts had been accepted this time, but the spirits could be finicky.

As you stared at the metal archway that made up the gate to the spirit world, the open space of the archway began to glow. The glow got more and more solid, and soon you were standing in front of a swirling door; pinks, blues and purples flowed around each other, making the doorway almost look like the surface of a mystical lake. As you stepped into the magical doorway, you reminded yourself again of the last rule, be out by midnight. You had done this before, you could do it again.

As always, you found yourself standing at the start of a path made of silver light. You stared out at the colorful forest that now surrounded you, the silver path winding around the cherry blossom trees as it led towards the shrines of the spirits. As you began to walk forward, basket of tokens in hand, you kept your focus on the path ahead.

Your grandmother had stressed that you were never to leave the path, no matter the circumstance. The path kept you on track, and more importantly, unseen.

The spirits were not the only ones to inhabit this world; while this was a place for spirits, it was also inhabited by azakana, the race of demon spirits that fed on human suffering. You had never seen the spirit deities, but you had on occasion caught sight of dark shapes moving around the trees, the shadows alone sending shivers along your skin.

While you were on the path, they could not see you, and they could not touch you. You had heard too many stories about azakana as a child from your grandmother; stories of azakana ripping people apart, swallowing them whole… you had heard more than enough to do everything you could to avoid contact with the vicious creatures. Part of you wondered if that was what had happened to the spirit guardians who never returned, but you tried not to dwell on it. You could think about the dangers of the azakana when you were safely back in your village.

Trying to calm your mind, you took the opportunity to admire the scenery as you walked along the path. Even as dark as it was, the light pink trees were undeniably beautiful, the petals that fell around the path creating a scene that looked straight out of a painting.

The forest was dense with trees, but your path remained clear of even petals or dirt, the silver under your feet glowing with celestial light. You took notice of small animals as they roamed the forest, your attention focussing in on an unnaturally-colored fox as it walked along the thick root of a tree before disappearing from sight. While you couldn’t help but want to observe the unique landscape of the spirit realm, you did not stop walking. Your time here was finite, and you knew that you could not afford to get caught up in the beauty of this place, not unless you wanted this forest to be your tomb come midnight if you did not leave on time.

As the trees began to thin out, you caught sight of the short wooden bridge that would take you across the river and to the first of the spirit temples. You approached the shrine to find it empty, as it always was, absent of even the small animals that roamed the forest.

You had been by here six times before, long enough for you to feel at least somewhat comfortable navigating your way around. The silver path led you right up to a purple pedestal decorated with a vibrant snake made of gems that were deeply embedded in the stone of the podium. Coming to a stop at last, you opened up your basket with a small smile; at least the snake spirit was easy to choose gifts for.

Reaching into the basket, you pulled out a small brooch in the shape of a tied ribbon. It was made of pure silver and dotted with brightly-shining gems. You had spent a while selecting it, so you hoped that the spirit would accept it. The bracelet you had left last time had been taken, which gave you a nice burst of confidence. You could only hope that the rest of your gifts from last month had been accepted as well.

Placing the brooch in the center of the pedestal, right on top of the jeweled snake’s body, you closed the basket, turning to continue on the path. You had nine more shrines to visit after all, and a restrictive window of time.

If you remembered correctly, the next shrine was the one with twin swords carved into its pedestal. One of the tough ones. Not one of the gifts you had left there had been accepted. With no other option, you were left to keep guessing, bringing a different thing each time in hopes it would be accepted.

As you approached the simple stone pedestal, you were surprised to see it empty. Your excitement quickening your steps, you hurriedly approached the temple, heart soaring as you looked down at the twin blades carved into the ancient-looking stone.

You stared at the simple carving, willing yourself to remember what it was you had brought last time. After a moment of thought, you recalled placing a simple wooden flute on the pedestal, more out of desperation than anything. You weren’t sure what about the flute the spirit was interested in, but you were relieved that one of the more picky spirits had accepted one of your gifts at last.

Reaching into your basket, you pulled out a delicately-carved wooden bird. Hopefully the fussy spirit would like the bird, but even if you came back next month to a rejection, you knew now that the spirit had an interest in musical instruments. You were starting to see what your grandmother had meant when she had said you would come to get an understanding of each spirit’s personality, even if you still had yet to have all of the spirits accept a gift from you.

After placing the wooden bird on the pedestal, you bid farewell to the shrine, walking towards the slender purple trees that denoted the next spirit’s domain. This spirit had the most unusual symbol – a horned mask that was reminiscent of a demon. You had no idea what the spirits actually looked like, but had no desire to meet the spirit of this shrine, afraid that their symbol denoted a demonic personality as well.

It didn’t help that the forest that led to his shrine was impossibly dark and dense. Unlike the domains of the other spirits, you had never seen an animal in this forest, just dark trees that loomed over you with branches like forked lightning, blocking much of the already-dark sky overhead.

Despite the scary appearance of this spirit’s domain, they had accepted all of the gifts that you had brought so far. As scary as this place was, you were relieved that you likely didn’t have to worry about this particular spirit taking their wrath out on you or your people for a lack of gifts they deemed acceptable.

After a few minutes of walking, the darkly-colored temple of the demon mask spirit finally began to show through the trees. You continued to walk towards the temple, eyes focussed on the small building’s sloping roof, when you were stopped by a tug on your long ceremonial skirt.

Turning back, you found one side of your skirt caught on a thorned branch that ran along the ground. With an annoyed sigh, you pulled gently at your skirt, wanting to avoid ripping your skirt in the process of disengaging yourself from the vine.

You felt annoyance rise up in you when your gentle tugs did nothing to free you, your skirt still firmly ensnared by the thorns. You sighed; you really didn’t have time for this, not with how many more temples you still had to visit.

Putting down your basket, you took hold of your skirt with both hands and gave it a harsh tug, resolving to just repair the skirt later if it ripped. When one hard pull failed to free you, you began to yank repeatedly at the fabric, knowing that it would be a bad idea to reach your hand outside of the path to grab the vine itself.

After at least a minute of pulling on your skirt, you were getting desperate. The skirt’s material was too tough to rip easily, and you didn’t have a knife on you to tear it with. The only weapon you had on you was a small stone ball wrapped in a prayer scroll, an old weapon used to scare off azakana that your grandmother had said you must always have on you while in the spirit realm. You had thought it was silly, but she had insisted, despite never encountering an azakana herself even though she had been the spirit guardian for so much of her life.

Letting out a frustrated sigh, you resolved to give it one last try, and then you would have to just take off the skirt. As unhappy as you would be to do the rest of the walk with just underwear and shoes on your lower half, getting stuck in this place would be infinitely worse.

Both hands gripping onto your skirt, you took a deep breath as you braced yourself, and then pulled hard. Unlike the past few minutes, this time your skirt was dislodged immediately, as if it had never been stuck in the first place.

You had expected a fight of it, and had yanked on your skirt so hard that it coming free easily threw you entirely off balance. The long skirt did you no favors as you stumbled on it, trying to right your balance, but the fabric won out in the end as you stumbled back into your forgotten basket, causing you to trip and fall backwards with a surprised yell.

You closed your eyes reflexively as you fell backwards, your back immediately uncomfortable as you fell back against what felt like a large tree root. But the stinging of your back was nothing compared to the explosion of sound and sight you experienced as you opened your eyes.

The spirit realm had always been silent and still, but now it was anything but. The previously-quiet skies were now filled with the most horrifying creatures you had ever seen, demonlike bodies twisting in the skies as they let out inhuman screeches and growls. The trees too were infested by many-limbed azakana, their claws digging into the bark of the trees. Eyes wide with terror, you were confused as to why this was happening all of a sudden… at least until your eyes focussed in on the silver path just ahead of you.

You shot up with a gasp. You had fallen off the path, broken one of the only rules your grandmother had set for you, and now you were seeing why it was so important.

You had to get back there before any of them saw you. If you attracted the attention of even one of these demons, you were dead for sure.

Your skirt still tripping you up, you scrambled forward on your hands and knees, desperate to get yourself the few feet it would take to get back onto the silver path. Your fear began to morph into relief as your hand reached the path, followed by the rest of your upper body. You quickly made to crawl the rest of the way back onto the path, glad to have the momentary terror behind you, when you were startled by a painfully tight grip on your ankle.

Before you could react, you were yanked backwards, your attempts at gripping onto the ground futile as you were suddenly thrown back in the air. You landed harshly on the ground, the wind knocked out of you, whole body burning with pain.

Sitting up with a groan, you flattened your back against a tree in fear as you took in the approaching form of the most horrifying creature you had ever seen.

It had the body of a worm, but it was at least fifty feet long and twice your width. It loomed over you, its giant body writhing with excitement that was plain on its face. While its body was that of a worm, it had the face of a demon. Wide yellow eyes, pupilless and oversized for its face stared you down, its jaws open wide, teeth as long as your fingers gleaming even in the dark. Its face was blood red, nose two slits on its face while several horns protruded from the crown of its head.

Looking around, you realized that you had nowhere to run. With a tree at your back and this thing’s massive body blocking the way back to the path, you were trapped. Eyes darting around, you tried to find something, anything that would help you, but all you could see were the dark trees; that, and the azakana around you had all stopped their screeching to stare hungrily at the scene before them.

As you were desperately pondering a way out of this situation, the giant worm began to close in on you, eager to claim its prey. As you squirmed against the tree, a small thump against your thigh reminded you of the protection stone you had sitting in your skirt’s pocket. If you threw it at the creature, it could give you enough time to escape back to the path and get yourself out of this nightmare.

You reached quickly into your pocket, but the movement seemed to spurn the azakana into action as well as it quickly darted towards you. You managed to throw the stone, but cried out in pain as one of the demon’s horns impaled your shoulder at the same time.

Upon hitting the creature, the stone broke apart into silver smoke that quickly filled the area. The azakana jerked back with a shriek as soon as the smoke hit it, fleeing as fast as it could. Its cries of agony were not the only ones to pierce the air; the smoke quickly spread around the forest, causing the rest of the azakana to flee when it came near them. Soon their cries faded and you were left alone and bleeding, vision obscured by the thick smoke.

You clutched your shoulder, your fingers becoming quickly soaked by your own blood as you gritted your teeth from the pain. You braced yourself against the tree, slowly standing up, keeping a hand pressed to your still-bleeding wound. You desperately tried to seek out the path with your eyes, but you were feeling increasingly dizzy the more blood you lost.

Your vision was growing shakier by the second as you pushed yourself off the tree, stumbling in what you believed to be the direction of the path. Every step felt like a mile as you slowly shuffled forward, but you forced your body onward; in your current state, you knew that you were dead if you stopped moving. Your best bet would be to turn back and leave the way you had come in. You would have to bring the other spirits two gifts next time to make up for the empty pedestals they would find tomorrow and hope they would not take their anger at your failure out on your village.

It was hard to pick out a silver path in the midst of the silver fog, but you nearly cried with relief when you spotted the familiar otherworldly silver light peeking through the smoke. You dragged yourself the last bit of the way, strength failing you, and collapsed as soon as you were back in the safety of the path again.

You whimpered, clutching your shoulder as you tried to ignore the searing pain. Looking down, you found your formerly-white shirt red with blood, the material sticking uncomfortably to your skin. You were finding it hard to concentrate on anything other than the pain, never having dealt with a wound this extreme before.

Letting out a sob as the strain it caused your wound, you forced yourself to your feet again. It was hard to see with all the smoke in your way, but you had to keep moving or you would bleed out long before the azakana would get another shot at you.

Your vision was now so blurry that you felt like you were dreaming, but you pressed onward, following the light of the silver path. If you hurried, you could make it back in time to find a healer, because you knew that you would die without help.

It felt like you had been walking for an hour when the fog that surrounded you had finally cleared, but when it did, you felt like crying. Instead of the two-bladed spirit’s temple, you found yourself staring at the familiar temple of the demon mask spirit. You took a few more stunned steps before collapsing beside the spirit’s pedestal. You had gone the wrong way.

You closed your eyes, not wanting to look at the temple that signalled your own incompetence, or at your blood staining the grass beneath you. This was it; your spirit had become as broken as your body, leaving you with no more strength to move or even open your eyes. You would die here, so far from home and in incredible pain. You could only hope as your consciousness drifted away that you had not doomed your village as well.

 You woke up feeling slightly cold, as if your window had been left open on a chilly night. You kept your eyes closed for another minute, waiting for the aching in your head to fade, finally opening them when your head had stopped pounding.

You weren’t dead, but you didn’t know where you were. The room that you now found yourself in was large, but lacking any furniture other than the futon bed you were laying in. The wall was patterned with a mountain scene that had you transfixed, at least until you realized that you were able to move your shoulder without any pain.

Hurriedly sitting up, you turned to look at your shoulder, seeing a large hole in your shirt, but no gaping wound. The blood that had soaked your clothes was now dry, the only evidence that you had bled at all the stains that covered your clothing. You touched the area where the wound had been, still unable to believe that it had vanished, before you remembered the events that had led up to the wound being inflicted on you.

Had someone found you and brought you back to the village? You weren’t in your home, you knew that much for sure. You had never seen these walls before, not a single note of recognition coming to you as you got up from the futon and began to look around the room.

Seeing no clues, you decided to leave the room. If someone had rescued you, then you needed to thank them. And as much as you didn’t want to, you had to explain what had happened to the village elders. This had been your mistake, and you couldn’t hide from it, not when it concerned the safety of the village.

Leaving the room, you found yourself in an empty hallway. The room that you had been in was the last one in the hallway, so there was only one direction for you to go. You passed a few doors on your way down the hall, but they were all closed, and you didn’t want to intrude on your rescuer’s privacy after they had rescued you from certain death, so you left them be.

“Hello?” you called out when you turned from the hallway into a small entrance room, slightly disappointed to find it empty as well. Where was the owner of the home?

At least this room was less barren, so you took the time to wander around the room and take a look at things while you gave the person some time to return before you headed home.

While there was no furniture in this room either, your gaze was drawn to the lanterns that were hung from the ceiling of the room. They were hung a bit too high for you to reach, so you had to settle for staring at one from below. Even with the height difference, you could tell that they had an odd glow to them that you couldn’t place. You had never seen a lantern glow like that before, and had to avert your eyes when an unsettling feeling that you were having a hard time placing began to creep up on you.

As you turned to look at the doors ahead of you, the feeling began to intensify. Your wound disappearing, the mysterious glow of the lanterns, and the owner of the home’s absence… it was all pushing you rapidly towards a conclusion that you didn’t want to accept.

Slowly, you walked towards the doors, knowing that you would have to open them and either confirm or deny your sudden suspicions. It was hard to believe that someone from your village had come into the spirit world to save you, but you wanted to believe that it was the truth. But each step you took towards the door eroded your confidence more and more, but you had to know.

The door felt cold against your palm, unease swirling in your chest as you stared at the wooden door, knowing you needed to open it, but afraid to know the truth. Cursing your own cowardice, you began to push the door open before you could convince yourself not to, watching as the small sliver of outside grew as you opened the door wide enough for you to slip out of it.

Your hopes were dashed immediately. There was no mistaking the purple of the trees for your small village, nor the unnaturally clean river that flowed around the temple you stood outside of. It was equally as unbelievable as being rescued by one of the villagers; who could have rescued you from certain death in this place? You had never seen a soul here besides the azakana and the small animals that roamed the forests, and neither one of them likely had the desire or means to save your life.

Your chest felt tight as the possibilities swam in your head. Were you dead? You didn’t feel dead, but how else could you have woken up in the spirit realm, your deep wound completely gone?

Now that you knew you were still in the spirit world, you couldn’t just go back into the temple and pretend that everything was alright. But what were you supposed to do? The sun was out, so it was clearly daytime, so there was little chance of the path still being here, not unless your grandmother had lied to you.

It was weird looking out at the spirit world in the daytime; you had only ever seen this place at midnight hours, and found yourself transfixed by the beauty of this world in the daytime as well. The purple trees gleamed in the sunlight, swaying gently with the morning breeze. The whole scene would have been calming, if it weren’t for the fact that no human was ever supposed to see it.

You knew that the path home would not be open for a whole month, and while the thought was depressing, you couldn’t just give up. Just because nobody who had gotten trapped here had ever returned didn’t mean that there was no other way back. You couldn’t fool yourself into being optimistic, but you also weren’t willing to roll over and die without trying to find a way out of here.

Reluctantly, you made your way down the steps, heading towards the pedestal that stood in front of the temple. The carved demonic mask in the stone of the pedestal stared up at you, just as you thought it would. You knew that those distinctive purple trees were only in the demon mask spirit’s territory, but part of you refused to believe that was where you were until you gazed down at the pedestal that could not have belonged to anyone else.

You hung your head as you tried to make sense of what had happened to you. All signs pointed towards someone or something here saving you, but you couldn’t understand why a spirit would save you. From all you knew of them, the spirits did not act unless there was a benefit for them. You let out a sigh, tracing the pedestal carving with your fingers as you pondered your next move.

“Are you alright, little human?”

The deep voice directly behind you combined with a clawed hand on your shoulder startled you back into a hard chest with a gasp. Spinning around so quickly you nearly gave yourself whiplash, you came face to face with the spirit you had been the most afraid of, the one wearing a golden mask over his face identical to the one carved into the face of the pedestal.

“You… you…” you stammered, backing away from the figure.

You shivered with fear, wrapping your arms around yourself as you continued to back away from the spirit, not taking your eyes off of his intimidatingly large figure.

He was tall, taller than all of the men in your village, but it wasn’t his height that quickened your steps backward. His skin was bright purple, the ridges of his defined chest and abdomen a vibrant fuchsia. You could see none of his face, as it was covered by a golden mask with white slits for eyes and sharp golden teeth. Though now that you thought about it, the mask could <i>be</i> his face; you had never seen a spirit before, so you had no idea what they normally looked like.

His outfit consisted of a short vest and hakama pants, a thick silver braided cord laced through a gold masklike buckle tied around his waist like a belt. Other than two beaded necklaces around his neck, he wore no other accessories. His wild silver hair was tied back, but hung behind him in spikes, two large horns jutting out of his forehead. Overall, he made for a very intimidating figure, each step he took towards you prompting you to take one back.

“I’m sorry for being in your domain,” you fearfully apologized, staring at his mask. “I’ll leave now so you–”

“Stop!” he demanded, the authority in his voice stopping you in your tracks.

You flinched as he pulled a section of cord from the back of his belt, the end of the cord tipped with a large golden hook. Before you could react, he tossed the hook your way, the implement making a sharp noise as it cut through the air. You shut your eyes, too scared to move as you awaited your death for upsetting the fearsome spirit.

A horrific screech from behind you had your eyes flying back open, watching as the spirit’s hook dragged a large dark creature past you and towards himself. Clutching your hands to your chest, you watched as the struggling azakana was yanked towards the spirit, who then slashed at it with his claws, the demon vanishing with an ugly scream.

As soon as the azakana had been killed, the spirit re-stowed his hook before turning his attention back to you. He approached you again, slower this time, his head bowed slightly, and you were struck by the thought that he seemed to be trying to make himself appear less threatening to you. You were so confused by his sudden meekness that you just stared in confusion as he approached you.

He stopped a short distance from you, and now that he was close, you finally took notice of his long ears, longer than any ears you had seen before even on an elf, but now those ears were drooped downwards. The large spirit was silent before you, looking like a kicked puppy.

When he was confident that you weren’t going to run from him, he slowly reached up towards his face, pulling the face plate from his mask away from his face. You were surprised to see relatively normal facial features, minus his large brow ridge where his forehead met his horns. His face was as purple as the rest of him, but his eyes were the most unusual feature of his face, fuchsia where they would be white on a human, his irises white instead. He wasn’t exactly handsome, but he didn’t look anything like the monster you had imagined would be under that demon mask.

“I apologize if this form… repulses you,” he said, his long ears still drooped.

How could you have ever thought he was a monster? Seeing how sad he looked, you felt overcome with the need to comfort him.

“No,” you refuted gently. “You don’t repulse me. And… you saved me back in the forest, didn’t you?”

“I did,” he confirmed quietly, seeming awkward under your curious gaze.

“But why would you–”

You were cut off by a loud howl from the forest behind you, and watched as the spirit’s expression turned severe, a deep frown overtaking his features. His gaze flit to something behind you, but before you could turn back to see what he was looking at, you were distracted by him stepping closer to you.

“We must head inside my temple,” he spoke quietly but sternly, his white eyes still on the forest behind you. “It is not safe for you out here.”

Without another word, he turned to retreat towards the temple, your eyes drawn to the shiny gold hook on the back of his belt, the same hook he had used to draw the azakana to him earlier before he had clawed it in half. As unnerving as his appearance was, he had saved your life more than once now, so after a short moment, you shelved your reservations about him for now and scurried after him. You heard another demonic howl as you retreated, but were too scared to look behind you as you climbed up the steps to the temple, following behind the spirit as he entered.

Entering the room, you found the spirit standing in the middle of the room, facing you. Feeling unsure, you slowly entered the temple, flinching when the door shut by itself as soon as you had walked through it. You looked back at the doors in disbelief before turning back to face the purple-skinned spirit, but were surprised again to find a different man in his place.

“Who–” you gasped, backing up, watching as the handsome man’s face was overcome by surprise and concern.

He stepped towards you but then froze, lowering his hand to his side. The motion brought your eyes down to his hand, frozen beside a very familiar corded belt. There were clear differences; the end of his hakama was now lined with gold trim, and the rips in his collar and the tails of his belted sash were absent, but it was undeniably the outfit that the purple spirit had been wearing. Unchanged as well were the two horns that protruded from his head, still the vibrant shade of deep purple melding into fuchsia.

Whereas before you were afraid to look at him, now you couldn’t look away. The gold demon mask he had worn was gone, so now there was nothing obstructing his otherworldly handsome face. His eyes now looked like a normal human’s, minus his now-fuchsia irises, his skin now pale instead of the bright purple it had been. His formerly-silver hair still hung back in spikes, but the now-dark-purple locks also hung over his forehead and fell to the sides of his face. In all, he was absurdly handsome, his visage well-befitting the title of a spirit.

“Are you feeling unwell?”

Your eyes met his, and you felt your cheeks flare up with shame and embarrassment. Here he was looking genuinely concerned for you when you had been busy checking him out. You noticed that his ears had drooped again in worry, which was not helping you try to focus on something other than how cute he was.

Realizing that you should probably answer him, you nodded. “I’m okay. I didn’t expect your appearance to change so suddenly so I was… surprised.”

“I apologize,” he said, eyes flitting to the ground. “I understand that a demon’s appearance would be distressing to a human.”

“No!” you interjected, not wanting to make him look so sad, but also not wanting to have to own up to your blatant ogling. In the end, the spirit’s downturned eyes and drooping ears got to you, your cheeks pink in anticipation of what you were about to admit to. “It’s just… you’re much more handsome than I expected of a spirit with a demon mask for a totem.”

It was his turn to turn pink, his eyes looking up to meet yours, mouth open slightly in surprise. He smiled shyly, the sight not helping your soaring heartbeat.

“Lost souls run from me, so I feared that you would be the same,” he admitted.

You silently admitted to yourself that you could see why, given how intimidating his more demonic form looked. Not wanting to keep the mood in the room so down, you decided to change the subject and maybe get some answers at last, but were surprised when he spoke up first.

“You are welcome in my temple, little human. I am called Thresh.”

Oh. You weren’t expecting such a formal introduction, but gave your name in return with a small bow of your head. From all that you had been told as a child, a spirit’s temperament was fickle at best, and you were desperate to not offend the spirit before you, even if he hadn’t done anything to you up to this point.

Another horrible screech from outside the temple, sounding closer than before, had Thresh tensing up slightly. “Before I answer your questions, there is something that must be done first.”

The sounds outside were only growing louder and closer; it sounded like an army of azakana were approaching. You were so distracted by the noises that you failed to notice Thresh approaching you until he had taken one of your hands in his. With a quiet gasp, you looked down at your hand, his purple clawlike nails gently resting against your hand. Looking up from your hand, you found Thresh staring intently at you, the seriousness in his eyes catching you off guard.

“I must offer you my protection. It is the only way to keep the azakana at bay. Do you agree?” he spoke, leaving you feeling frozen under his intense gaze.

You couldn’t help but feel like there was some hidden meaning in his words that you were not understanding, but with the cries of the azakana getting closer, you didn’t have time to ask.

“I agree,” you spoke quickly, just wanting the azakana to go away.

Thresh nodded once before placing his other hand, the one covered in striped blue fabric up to his biceps, over the back of your hand. You watched as a purple glow surrounded his hand, and then engulfed your own hand. Your hand began to feel cold, <i>too</i> cold, but Thresh’s tight grip on you didn’t allow you to pull away. That, and your hand was feeling more numb by the second.

Just when the sounds of the demons outside were getting too close to bear, Thresh let go of your hand and the noises outside stopped all at once. Looking down at your hand, you found the previously-unmarred skin now bore a familiar mark… the same mark engraved into the stone pedestal just outside the temple. The purple demon mask laid on your skin like a tattoo, but it hadn’t hurt like you had heard they did; even the cold you had felt had quickly faded once Thresh had released your hand.

“My mark will protect you as long as you are within this temple or close to me,” Thresh explained.

Yesterday, the mask on your hand would have been terrifying, but now the sight brought you comfort; it was the only reason you weren’t being torn apart by azakana right now. But more than anything, you felt curious; why would a spirit go out of his way to protect you? There were lots of humans in your world; it wouldn’t be unusual for a spirit to view a human life like humans would view a bug.

“Why are you doing this?” you asked at last, at least a little proud that you had got the words out without stuttering.

“You are the human gift bringer, are you not?” Thresh answered your question with a question of his own, waiting for your stunned nod before continuing. “Your gifts have been a comfort a demon like me does not deserve. I could not allow such a precious mortal to die at the claws of the azakana.”

“How did you know I brought those gifts?” The question was out of your mouth before you could stop it. As soon as you had spoken the words, you were kicking yourself; you were the only human that came to this world, at least to your knowledge, it was obvious how he knew who you were.

Thresh didn’t look annoyed, as you feared he would, but instead looked happy to answer your question. “Your aura is the same one that surrounds the items you leave. I could never mistake your aura for another.”

You couldn’t do much other than stare at him, astonished at the warmth in his voice. The thought of a spirit knowing of you personally was almost too much to comprehend. Your hands went to the collar of your shirt, needing something to fiddle with to settle your nerves, but you quickly retracted your grip on the material when you felt the unpleasant starch the dried blood lent to the fabric. Now that you thought about it, the shirt felt heavy and uncomfortable against your skin, the darkened ruddy red-brown color now a reminder of just how close you had come to dying. That, and your skin was still stained with dried blood as well; looking down at the red under your nails, you realized what a sight you must be right now. If anything, Thresh had more reason to be repulsed by your current appearance than the other way around.

As scared as you were to impose any further on him, you were just as reluctant to spend a month covered in your own blood. “Is there somewhere here where I can bathe?”

You felt bad asking, but you reminded yourself that it had to be done. If he said no, then that was that, but you had to try for your own sake.

Thresh looked pensive for a moment. “There is the lake of souls.”

You jolted at the ominous-sounding name. “Is that safe?”

“It is the place new human souls appear when they come to this world after death,” he answered matter-of-factly. “I have not gone there in so long. It is not a place for a creature such as I, undeserving of its essence. However, the waters there are safe for bathing in.”

Thresh walked past you to the temple doors, and you turned to follow him, eager for a bath, even if it was in some odd soul water. Thresh raised a hand to the door, but seemed hesitant to open it. You stared at his back, unsure of what to say, when he turned his head back to face you, that same sad look back on his face.

“I must warn you; outside of this temple, I do not have the power to maintain this form. I apologize if you find me distasteful to look at.”

“It’s okay,” you replied, quietly feeling sorry for the spirit. He seemed infinitely more bothered by his appearance than you were, which helped you to feel more comfortable around his purple-skinned form. You could never have imagined a spirit would be so meek.

You followed Thresh outside, but hesitated at the bridge that led over the river and towards the forest of purple trees, the trauma of being attacked by an azakana in that forest last night stopping you in your tracks with fear.

Thresh was halfway across the bridge when he noticed that you had not followed, turning back to cautiously approach you. He had forgone his golden mask, leaving only the metal along his jaw, so you could see the worry in his expression as he stopped before you, offering you his gloved hand.

“I promise that you are safe. While you are under my protection, the azakana cannot see you,” he spoke with earnest.

You stared at his hand for a moment before reaching out to grab it with the hand that was emblazoned with his mark, the purple horned mask shimmering under the morning light. Thresh grinned happily when you took his hand, his grin only half visible under the lower half of his golden mask. You weren’t sure if the golden metal that covered his lower face and the top of his ears could be removed or not, but you didn’t want to draw attention to his appearance, so you let him lead you across the bridge and into the forest.

Despite your initial apprehension, you found yourself admiring the beauty of the spirit world in the daytime. The colors were so much more vibrant, the entire forest seeming so much more alive than it had before. Even the animals seemed livelier, soft noises of life reaching your ears from the oddly-colored animals that called this forest their home.

While you could not be seen by the azakana, if Thresh were to be believed, the animals were a different story. You even caught sight of that odd little fox you saw on your visits sometimes sunbathing on a rock, its teal tail spread out below it, the tip falling to the ground. It looked very relaxed, until you caught sight of its ear twitching before its eyes opened and it stared directly at you, almost as if it wanted you to know that it had caught you staring.

Its gaze made you feel too exposed, like it knew something that you didn’t. You turned your attention elsewhere, not wanting to attract even the attention of a fox in this place. Now that you knew you were visible to the animals here, you wondered what other things lived in this place alongside the ones you had seen before. They lived in the spirit world though, so it was not a guarantee that they were as harmless as they seemed, which you would have to keep in mind if you wanted to leave this place alive in just under a month.

A whole month in this place. The full extent of your situation began to sink in, leaving you with more questions than you had answers for. Was Thresh even willing to put up with for you a month? And what would you do for food or water while you were here? You had no answers, but decided not to press for them until after your skin was no longer stained with your own blood. You had not felt so thoroughly unclean in so long, the desire to be clean again overriding all other desires at the moment.

Thresh led you through the forest until the trees began to thin out, leading to an area of mossy rocks surrounding a large body of clear water. The area was silent, but it was a tranquil silence, the area seeming to radiate a calming energy that helped to soothe your still-frazzled nerves.

“The lake of souls,” Thresh introduced with a sad look in his eyes that confused you. What about this beautiful place made him look so melancholy?

“Is it okay to bathe here?” you asked warily, watching the gentle ripples in the water’s surface. “This place seems too sacred to dirty by bathing in it.”

Thresh shook his head. “This place exists for human souls, therefore it also exists for human souls that are still living as well.”

You were still reluctant, but decided that it was better to give in and bathe here rather than stay filthy for a month. You walked towards the water’s edge, stopping just short of the lake’s gentle waters. You turned your head back, expecting Thresh to have at least turned his back to give you some privacy, but he stood in the same spot, still staring expressionlessly out at the lake.

You were about to call out to him when a sudden noise from the water behind you startled you. You looked back at the water, unsure of what was happening, an odd disturbance in the middle of the lake catching your notice immediately.

What looked like a very small tornado had appeared on the surface of the lake, some sort of a bright light at its center. You stared, puzzled by the strange display before you. You had no frame of reference for any part of this situation; you had been the spirit guardian for only six months, and it was abundantly clear to you how little you knew of the spirits and their world.

You leaned forward, squinting slightly as you tried to figure out what was happening, when suddenly the small tornado turned scarlet red and furious, the inner glow burning red hot. You backed away from the water with a gasp as what sounded like a high-pitched scream rang out across the lake; whipping your hair around with a burst of slightly-too-warm air.

You couldn’t scramble away fast enough, terrified by this strange entity, unsure if its next move would be to charge at you or not. Thresh had said you were safe from azakana while under his protection, but this thing didn’t look like any of the azakana you had seen last night.

“Thresh, what is that?” you asked, voice quiet and frightened.

“A disquieted soul,” came his solemn answer. “It has not accepted its death and is rejecting its new form.”

“What?” you breathed. That sounded awful. How horribly could this person have died to come to the spirit world in such a state? “Can you help him?”

Thresh was silent, eyes unfocused, like he was somewhere else entirely, only snapping out of his thoughts when you called his name again. He turned his back to the lake, the motion making the beads around his neck knock against his chest.

“I can do nothing for him,” he said at last.

“What?” you began, worry bleeding to frustration. “But you’re a spirit. Your job is to guide human souls in the afterlife.”

“…not anymore,” he murmured, chin drooping along with his ears. You couldn’t see his face, but you could imagine his eyebrows sunken in despair just by the tone of his voice.

The soul was still in panic, and you couldn’t just leave them like that, even though Thresh seemed perfectly content to ignore the problem. You had always pictured the spirits as omnipotent beings that cared for human souls, allowing their loved ones to rest knowing they were in a better place in death, but watching the spirit before you dismiss the soul’s pain snapped something within you.

“We bring you offerings in exchange for your protection!” you shouted, watching Thresh’s back tense up in surprise. “Protection in this life and the afterlife. If you let that soul suffer, then you don’t deserve the gifts I’ve brought you!”

He finally turned to face you at last, and now you could see the sorrow in his white eyes. “I am unworthy of my position, I was enlightened of that long ago.”

“Somebody told you that you couldn’t help souls?” you asked.

He answered your question with a single nod of his head. “My involvement will only make things worse.”

You felt bad for him, but didn’t find yourself believing what he did about himself. He didn’t seem inherently bad to you, and with nobody around, even a sorry attempt to help would be better than no attempt at all.

“Please, Thresh,” you implored the spirit, determined to try at least one more time. “That soul is hurting and it needs you. Will you please try to help?”

You could see on his face that he was wavering, but eventually his eyebrows lifted, expression shifting to one of stony determination as he walked past you to the edge of the water. “Very well. I will try.”

“Come to me, my child,” he spoke to the soul, and you were stunned by how his voice filled the area despite being no louder than his normal speaking voice.

Despite being thoroughly devoid of knowledge of the spirit world, you could tell that there was power in his words. Deep inside you, you could feel a pull to obey his words and go to him, but you were easily able to ignore the urge. The soul on the lake, however, clearly could not resist as it began to drift closer to where Thresh stood at the water’s edge. You stayed where you were, transfixed by the scene before you but also unwilling to get closer to the fiery soul tornado that was coming your way.

The soul quickly approached Thresh, only calming when he reached out to take it in hand, the tornado dissipating and leaving behind a ball of now-white light. Now that it wasn’t a whirling tornado of fire, the soul looked rather peaceful. You couldn’t understand Thresh’s reluctance to help; he had calmed the troubled soul with only a touch, so how had he come to believe that he was so incapable of helping souls?

With his other hand, Thresh raised the lantern that was usually attached to his roped belt, the soul gently drifting inside before leaving the lantern as a soft purple wisp. The lantern lit up with a bright glow, and for a moment, you watched Thresh’s appearance flicker back to his more humanlike side, his pale skin and deep purple hair visible for only a short moment before his form returned to its usual demonic appearance.

Thresh stared down at his lantern for a long moment before finally stowing it back on his belt and turning his attention back to you. “The waters are now calm.”

You couldn’t help but wonder why he still looked so sad even after he was able to subdue the restless soul, but quickly pushed your curiosities down inside you; you had already yelled at him, and you didn’t want to push your luck by pressing him with questions and end up having him revoke the protection that he had blessed you with.

You passed the silent spirit with a small nod, waiting until he walked into the trees before you approached the water. You couldn’t see him in the trees and could only hope he hadn’t forgotten about you and left. You hadn’t been around him very long, certainly not long enough to understand him beyond a superficial level.

You removed your shirt first, wincing with disgust as you peeled the fabric off, dried blood having stuck it uncomfortably to your skin. Laying your clothes out next to the water, you were astounded that you had survived that much blood loss. Obviously Thresh had intervened and saved you, but you were surprised you had lived long enough to be saved in the first place. It was only by Thresh’s intervention that you were here in this place as a human and not a ball of light like the soul on the lake, and how had you repaid him? By freaking out on him and then yelling at him. It was a miracle you were still standing after showing such disrespect for a spirit.

You thought a quiet apology as you got into the water, feeling bad that you were dirtying such a sacred place with your blood, at least until you noticed that the red seemed to disappear the second it hit the water. With wide eyes, you tried again, wiping a wet hand across your shoulder and watching as the supernaturally-pure water made the flecks of dried blood disappear, the water once again clean. You let out a relieved sigh as you continued to wash yourself, glad that you didn’t have to worry about sullying the sacred lake with your blood.

You dunked your head under the water, allowing the water to wash away all of the grime that had accumulated in it since you had come to this place. Coming back up for air, you took another look at your shoulder, still not fully able to believe your fatal wound was gone. Running a hand over the spot, you could barely believe it had been run through with an azakana’s horn if you hadn’t watched it happen and felt the horrible pain yourself.

As you thought back to being surrounded by azakana, you suddenly felt all-too-exposed, naked and alone in the wide open area of the lake. Looking around, you didn’t see anything, not even an animal, but you still felt uneasy. Now wanting to be done as soon as possible so you could return to Thresh’s side, you quickly grabbed your clothing from the lakeside, doing your best to get the blood out of the fabric.

Your clothing was soaking wet, but the white fabric was only dyed very lightly red-brown now, which was better than it had been before. There was not much you could do about the large hole in the shoulder of your shirt, but you felt better knowing you wouldn’t be wearing clothing that was half soaked in your own blood.

Walking up to the treeline, you hesitated to enter the trees alone, instead calling out for Thresh at a volume you hoped he would hear, but not anyone or anything else that might be nearby. You were trying not to jump at every little sound, even though you were not fully sure what it was that you were afraid of in the bright light of the early afternoon.

You weren’t left waiting long, as Thresh quickly appeared from behind some trees, his expression neutral. At least he wasn’t looking as sad as he had at the lake, but that didn’t mean that you had any idea about how you were supposed to interact with him after your outburst. That, and you still had no idea what would happen to you for the rest of the month you were stuck here for. You didn’t know if spirits ate or slept, but you wouldn’t survive long without either. Thresh had offered you his protection, but that didn’t mean that he intended to put up with a live human in his space for a full month.

As nervous as you were, you forced yourself to speak up. “I appreciate you bringing me to the lake,” you started, feeling intimidated by Thresh’s lack of expression. “But I was wondering if there was a place here I could stay in for my time here, preferably one with food humans can eat. If you could just point me in the right direction, I won’t impose on you any further.”

The purple spirit’s silver eyebrows drew together in apparent confusion. “You… do not wish to remain with me?”

“Uh…” You hadn’t expected him to look so sad; you would have thought a spirit wouldn’t want to spend a month of their time babysitting a human that was dumb enough to get themselves mauled by an azakana and trapped in the spirit world.

“I understand if it is hard to be around a creature like me,” he spoke, a bittersweet smile on his face. “I will ask another spirit to protect you in my stead. I had not meant to cause you distress with my company.”

The spirit before you seemed so meek, and as he spoke, you realized he also seemed so… lonely. The downward turn of his gaze was enough to propel you forward, one hand on his arm making him look up to you with shock.

“I’m sorry,” you quickly apologized. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just thought I would be in your way. I would love to stay with you if that is okay.”

You realized that maybe you had laid it on a bit thick as Thresh’s purple cheeks turned bright pink, the pink whites of his eyes turning cyan blue. Panicking, you removed your hand from his arm, hoping it would help him calm down. Was he dying? You hadn’t meant to kill him! You had only been trying to make up for making him so sad, but hadn’t anticipated such an intense reaction from him.

Thresh let out a shaky breath, letting you know that you probably hadn’t killed him. “Your company would be most appreciated, little human. I have been alone for far too long in this place.”

His color gradually returned to normal, which was a relief for you, along with the fact that he looked to be in a much better mood now. You finally felt like you could relax a bit, lips raising in a shy smile; now you just felt embarrassed for overreacting yet again. It was a wonder that Thresh was willing to put up with you.

You followed Thresh back to his temple in silence, but it was a much more comfortable silence. It was a relief to know that you had somewhere to stay for the month, taking one worry away from the pile you had accumulated since coming here.

You followed him out of the forest and across the bridge that led over the river with the unlit lanterns in it. You were content to alternate between looking at the scenery and staring at Thresh’s back, at the still-shining lantern and hook attached to his belt, at least until you re-entered the temple.

The change was immediate; the tattered clothing and bright silver hair shifted, Thresh’s appearance reverting to his humanlike form again. But instead of being nervous, you found yourself thinking about the way his appearance had flickered between forms earlier by the lake, and about what he had told you.

“Thresh?”

The spirit hummed a short reply, turning around to stare at you curiously.

You took in his pale-skinned form, which would have looked deceptively human if not for the elongated ears and horns. “Earlier, at the lake… for a second, you looked like you do now.”

Thresh nodded, the same bittersweet smile from earlier gracing his lips. “You were right, I have not been worthy of the gifts you bring for quite a long time. It is my role here to care for souls, and doing so gives me the power to maintain this form. I have often thought that my hideous form is a fitting punishment for forsaking my duties.”

“You said someone told you that you weren’t capable of helping souls…” He did not deny the statement, so you continued. “But you were able to calm that panicking soul down immediately. I think you’re more capable of helping souls than you think.”

“I did,” he replied after a short silence. “But my past is not so easily forgotten. Come, I will prepare you some tea.”

He turned away, leading you towards the hallway where all the rooms were. It seemed that he intended to avoid the topic, which only made you wonder more why that person had told him that he couldn’t help souls. You had seen him soothe that soul with your own eyes, and you could see no reason anyone would have to take issue with him. But you didn’t want to press him on it further and upset him, so you followed quietly behind him until he stopped at the first door in the hall.

This room looked very similar to the one you had woken up in, the same mountainscape painted on the walls, but the air in this room had a gentle flowery fragrance in the air, likely from the incense that lay on a small white dish in the center of the room. The décor was very simple, with only a small table and some cushions, as well as a small cabinet in the corner.

Thresh approached the cabinet, while you went to take a seat on one of the floor cushions. A small rattle of china brought your attention to Thresh as he approached the table, carrying a tray with a simple deep blue clay teapot and two cups.

Placing the tray down, Thresh looked sheepish. “I apologize for the state of my tea set. I have not had company in several hundred years.”

Just how old was he? You watched as he poured the teapot, surprised when a light green liquid began to pour into the cup. There was no source of water in the room, and you doubted that the tea would last the hundreds of years since he had said he last had company, so it was likely supernatural in nature. You really hoped that eventually you would stop being surprised by every little thing in this place, but it was hard when everything here was just so different to the simple world you lived in.

You waited for him to pour his own tea before taking a sip of yours, a gentle, sweet taste settling on your tongue. The tea was unlike any you had tasted before, like it was flavored with some berry that grew only in the spirit world. Finding you were quite thirsty, your tea quickly disappeared, and you were soon left with nothing but an empty cup.

“Did you enjoy it?” Thresh asked quite eagerly, his own tea yet untouched.

“Yes, it’s lovely!” you answered, caught off guard by his sudden energy.

“I am glad,” he spoke with a soft smile, the sight making your heart skip a beat in your chest. He finally brought his cup to his lips and took a sip, letting out a pleased hum. “It has been too long since I last tasted this.”

“You can’t drink it when you’re alone?” you asked, setting your cup down.

“I can,” he answered. “But spirits do not need to eat or drink, so I only partake when I have company. Drinking this tea alone only reminds me of my solitude, which spoils the flavor.”

You bit your lip as you pondered what to reply. He seemed so casual about his loneliness, like it was something he had long since accepted as fact. You had always thought of the spirits as faceless, omnipotent beings that were so far above humans that they weren’t even comparable. Seeing him now, you did not see the faceless deity you had brought presents to, nor the terrifying spirit that had initially greeted you in front of the temple, but instead a being not so different from yourself.

You understood his feelings well, especially as of late. Your grandmother was the last person you had that you had really felt close to, and you had barely begun your spirit guardian training when she had suddenly died, throwing you into your role before you were ready. The people in town would speak to you, but there were none that you could really connect with, and you knew that they often kept you at arm’s length. Your connection to the spirits was a curse as much as it was a blessing; you had heard whispers around you before suggesting that displeasing you would bring the ire of the spirits upon oneself, as if you were some vengeful warden intent on using the spirits for your own benefit. Just thinking about it made your chest ache with that same loneliness that was in Thresh’s eyes.

Thresh had only simple food on hand, which was fine with you. Food to eat and a bed to sleep in were more than you could have hoped for, but Thresh seemed happy to play host to you.

You weren’t content to just sit around and be catered to by someone who had saved your life and gotten nothing in return. After you ate, you had gotten to work after finding a broom and some cloths, intent on paying Thresh back for his kindness.

“You are not my servant,” Thresh insisted with a pout from twenty feet away from you.

At first, he had tried to stop you from cleaning his floors, which you had refused, determined to do something for him. Then he had tried to help, but the first swipe of dust from the floor had sent him into such a wild sneezing fit that you had to banish him to the other side of the room, where he was currently trying to protest your cleaning spree from. He had started his fretting only after his sneezes had finally stopped, all while you tried not to giggle at how cute his sneezes were.

“You’re giving me food and a bed,” you replied. “This is the least I can do. And besides, you start sneezing if you even <i>see</i> dust.”

Thresh’s cheeks flushed pink. “I am truly ashamed at how long I have left my temple like this.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at him, which turned his ears pink as well as his cheeks, but at least he had finally stopped protesting your cleaning of his temple. He still seemed intent to stay close to you, minus the dust-guarding distance. It was a little silly, but you didn’t mind the company while you worked.

Dinnertime came fairly quickly, the entryway completely spotless when Thresh finally convinced you to stop and eat. He sat across from you at the small table, drinking that same tea as you ate your meal.

“I’m afraid I do not have much food on hand,” Thresh admitted with a frown. “I will have to go fetch more supplies in a few days.”

You nodded, swallowing a bite of rice. “How long will you be gone for?”

“No more than a few hours,” he answered. “The trading post is not too far from here.”

“You have a trading post here?” you asked curiously.

“We do,” he replied simply. “It is where I get this tea from. But I have not gone in a long while. I have not had reason to go until now.”

His words made you worry that you were making him go out of his way, but the small smile on his face helped to relax you. He was a kind spirit, and you didn’t want to annoy him by constantly apologizing for inconveniencing him, so you would allow yourself to accept his kindness for now.

It turned out that Thresh’s bedroom just a few doors down from yours, which came as a great relief to you. You knew that you had his protection, the mark on your hand was enough of a reminder of that, but you were having a hard time fully ridding yourself of your fears, especially alone in your futon late at night.

This bed was not so different than your own one at home, but at the same time, everything felt so different. Even the air here was different; it somehow felt more pure here, and you supposed it made sense. This was a place free of the contamination of your world, as the only people here were the souls of the dead, and you doubted they had any need to breathe anymore.

You eventually fell asleep thinking of your grandmother, of the egg pudding she used to make the morning after she returned from doing her rounds as spirit guardian. You could only wonder what she would have thought of your failure only six months after taking up the post she had held for over fifty years. As you drifted off, you apologized to her in your mind for letting her down.

 As you walked into the entry room a few days later, you found Thresh getting ready to leave, a simple purple bag slung over one shoulder. The bag itself looked like it would hold up, but it was clearly well-used, and could use a good stitching in some parts. You made a mental note to offer to fix it up for him when he came back.

Thresh noticed you immediately, his fingers releasing the bag as he turned to fully face you.

“Have a safe trip,” you said. “I’ll do some more cleaning while you’re gone.”

“You do not have to,” he grumbled, before thinking better of it with a shake of his head. “I will return no later than this evening.”

“Got it,” you replied. You could find something to occupy you until then. It wasn’t like you were going to complain about being lonely when he was only making this trip for your benefit in the first place.

Thresh’s smile quickly faded, face and voice becoming more serious. “While I am gone, do not leave this temple. My protection can only keep you safe from azakana if you are by my side or within my temple. I could not bear it if anything happened to you while I was away, I implore you–”

There were the droopy sad ears again. It would be cute if he didn’t look so upset.

“I won’t leave,” you promised. “I’m not eager to meet any more azakana anyways.”

“But…” He seemed reluctant to leave you. He was even more concerned for you than you were yourself. You had never pictured a spirit to be such a worrier.

“I’ll be fine,” you spoke gently. “You should go now, or you’ll be late getting back and I might be so bored by then that I wander into the forest looking for dirt to sweep up.”

You had meant it to be a joke, but by the alarm in Thresh’s widened eyes, your joking tone hadn’t quite been understood by the highly-stung spirit. Regardless, your words propelled him into action at last as he made his way towards the front door, sliding it open.

As he crossed the threshold, you watched his deep purple hair turn silver again, his demonic form returning as he left the power of his temple. He turned back to face you, still looking vaguely like a kicked puppy.

“I’ll be here when you return,” you insisted. “Now go.”

He nodded once. “You will be… here. It is a strange feeling to have someone waiting for me to return. Strange, but not unpleasant.”

You smiled, giving him a short wave. Thresh returned your smile with his sharp teeth, reaching into a pocket to bring out the face plate of his golden mask and affixing it to his face. His expressive eyes now hidden from your view, Thresh finally turned to head towards the bridge that would take him into the forest.

You watched him go until his tall form was swallowed by the vibrant purple trees, slowly sliding the door closed when you lost all sight of him. You stared at the closed door for a moment before forcing yourself to snap out of it. Thresh was a being of this world, the creatures here did not present the same danger to him as they did to you. He would be fine. And moreover, you had some cleaning to do; hopefully it would tire you out enough for you to keep your mind off of Thresh.

Your own room was fairly empty, and you didn’t want to go into Thresh’s room while he wasn’t there, so for now that left the room where you had drank tea together.

The table was easy enough to clean, and you found yourself tracing a finger over a groove that ran along the length of the small table. Could he have gotten this from the trading post? Or was it just here, like his temple was? You felt like you could ask every question on your mind and still be no closer to understanding how this world worked.

The time passed quickly at first, but began to slow down rapidly after the first hour or two. You only realized how bad it was when you looked down at the cup you were polishing, only to realize it was the same one you had polished an hour ago. Maybe there were less things to occupy your attention here than you had thought.

Maybe a change of pace would help ease away the boredom you were trying to ignore. Getting to your feet, you returned the cleaning items to the cupboard in the entryway, letting out a sigh as you looked over the room.

You were distracted from your moping by a barely-audible noise coming from the direction of the front door. Taking a step toward the door, you heard it again, slightly louder this time. It sounded like something was scratching against the door, but it seemed to be something small.

You were debating what to do when the door was scratched against once more, followed by a low whine that sounded vaguely pained. Thresh had said not to leave the temple, but surely just opening the door would be okay? The creature outside whined once more, and your decision was made. You couldn’t just leave an injured animal outside, especially if it had also been attacked by an azakana like you had been. You would open the door, bring it in, and then close it back up. The plan was nice and simple, which was why it went awry almost immediately.

Sliding the door halfway open, you peeked out, seeing nothing. Perplexed, you wondered if you had been so bored that you were hearing things. It could be possible, but really, anything was possible in this place.

A high-pitched bark had you reconsidering your hallucination theory, looking ahead to see a white fox standing ten or so feet in front of you, staring right at you with supernaturally blue eyes.

As you stared at it, you realized that it looked familiar. Its vibrant teal tail, the bells on a magenta cord tied around its neck… was this the same fox you had seen that night on your walk? The same one that had caught you staring at it when Thresh took you to the lake?

But what was it doing here? Why would a fox go to so much trouble just to get the attention of one lone human?

The fox chirped, ensuring it had your attention before it dashed around the side of Thresh’s temple, disappearing from view. What was it doing? You stared in the direction it had vanished, confused, when another chirp rang out from the side of the temple. The fox would not stop talking at you, which began to make you think… did it want you to follow it?

You were wary, remembering Thresh’s warning, but his temple’s protection should include the temple land as well, wouldn’t it? He hadn’t specified, but the land had to count as well, didn’t it? And the fox was clearly not an azakana, at least it didn’t look like the ones you had seen that night. You didn’t stop to think about it any further, dismissing it as likely alright as you slid the door closed behind you.

“Hello?” you called out as you walked towards the side of the building. “Are you okay, little guy?”

Turning the corner, you expected to see the fox nursing an injury, but found yourself instead face to face with a striking woman in a short kimono.

You jumped back, catching yourself before you could fall down, staring wide-eyed at the magenta-haired woman. She tilted her head slightly as she appraised you, which drew your attention to the large pair of animal-like… <i>fox-like</i>… ears atop her head, which then focussed your attention to the mass of tails that flared out behind her.

“You took long enough,” she said, but her voice didn’t sound angry. “Now, we have to go. I don’t know how long we have until he comes back.”

“He…?” you pondered out loud as the words began to sink in. “Wait, I can’t! Thresh said his protection only works if I stay here!”

“You–” She started, but then cut herself off. “His… protection?”

You brought a hand up to your chest, taking a step back from the strange woman. “I… he…”

The woman moved towards you so fast that you were almost unable to see the movement, snatching your hand and bringing it towards her. You tried to tug your hand back, but her grip was iron as she leaned down to stare closely at your hand. You stared down at her, unease crawling along your skin, when you noticed that it was the hand that bore Thresh’s mark under her grip.

“He gave you… his mark,” she said, voice heavy with confusion. She released your hand at last, and you quickly brought it back to your side, still unsure of what to make of this weirdly intense fox girl.

“Who are you?” you asked, trying to estimate your chances of making it back inside before she caught up to you if it turned out that she was here to do you harm. “And why are you here?”

She smiled, and her tails seemed to fluff up behind her like a peacock. “My name is Ahri, and I came here to rescue you from Thresh.”

“From Thresh?” you echoed. Did she know something you didn’t?

“Yes,” she confirmed, sounding unsure herself. “I thought with his history, he may be keeping you here against your will, but…”

“No!” you denied, finding yourself flush with the need to deny her assumption. “I fell off the path and got attacked by an azakana. Thresh saved me and brought me here. He told me this mark would keep me safe until the month is up and I can go home.”

Ahri looked stunned, an expression you assumed she didn’t wear often. Her bright blue eyes looked from your hand that bore the purple demon mask up to your eyes before letting out a sigh. “…I didn’t expect to hear a human defending Thresh.”

What did she mean? Wait, she had mentioned history…

“Are you the one who told him he couldn’t help souls?” you accused quietly, even as your chest trembled at the idea of speaking to a spirit like this. But you had to know what she knew, had to know what had made her decide that Thresh was unworthy of the job you had seen him do perfectly with your own eyes.

“I have known Thresh for a long time,” she began wistfully. “Much longer than your people have been bringing us gifts for. We used to comfort human souls together back then.”

She looked so sad, just like Thresh had that day at the lake.

“But his care for the souls went too far. He began to see them not as mortal souls needing his guidance, but as his own children. He kept them with him, preventing them from experiencing what their souls need to learn in this world. We are here to help human souls, not cage them, and he forgot that,” she explained.

You almost felt tears come to your eyes at her words. It was clear the experience had scarred her as well.

She gave you a sad smile. “I’m relieved that he hasn’t harmed you, but you must come with me. There’s no telling how soon it will be before Thresh falls back to his old ways again.”

She didn’t seem like she was lying, but you still felt like you were being torn in two. Thresh’s face appeared in your mind, the sad expression when he talked about his past the only thing you could think about.

“…I can’t.”

“You can’t?” Ahri sounded incredulous.

“I watched him help a soul,” you said, voice unsteady. “He only did it because I told him he didn’t deserve my gifts if he didn’t. But he calmed it down so easily!”

This time Ahri stayed silent, and you took that as your approval to keep talking. “I think he regrets what he did back then. I don’t think he would hurt me, and I can’t just leave him when he still looks so sad.”

Ahri’s gaze was hard as she silently considered you. The seconds dragged on as you nervously met eyes with her, afraid you had gotten on her bad side. Thresh hadn’t flexed his authority as a spirit over you, but that didn’t mean that Ahri wouldn’t. The longer the silence stretched on, the less sure you were of anything; you weren’t sure whether to be relieved or not when she finally spoke up.

“Then… can I ask you to help him?”

“What?” you breathed.

Ahri let out an amused huff at your reaction. “You have more power than you may think. Thousands of years have passed and this is the first time Thresh has willingly left his isolation to help anyone. You may be the key to restoring his faith in himself.”

“But how could I…”

“Talk to him,” Ahri instructed. “Show him that he doesn’t need to confine souls to his side when he has others who care about him. Threaten to withhold his offerings again if you have to.”

Her grin told you she was largely joking about that last one, but that reminded you about something that had slipped your mind over the past few days.

“The gifts…!” you gasped.

Ahri grinned, showing off her sharp canines. “Already taken care of. I found your basket and brought the rest of the presents to the other spirits. I especially liked my new comb.”

You were momentarily stunned, but snapped out of it and bowed your head low. “Thank you! I don’t know what my village would have done if…”

“Raise your head,” Ahri commanded, and you stood up straight again. “I would not allow our deal to be revoked because you were attacked by azakana and unable to finish your route.”

“Still, I appreciate it,” you insisted. “I don’t want to upset spirits who got no gift while others did.”

“I’ve always watched the spirit guardians on their walks,” Ahri said. “This deal is important to us as well. The gifts you bring give us a connection to your world, and brighten our days. I have watched spirit guardians come and go, but I have never seen the spirits as happy as when they receive your gifts. Even Yone has not stopped playing the flute you gave him.”

Yone? So that was the name of the finicky spirit of the twin-bladed temple. It was a relief to know that the gift you had especially agonized over was received well.

“I did try to save you myself, but Thresh got to you first,” Ahri admitted. “With how isolated he’s been for so long, I feared what he would do with you. You are too important to us to allow anything to happen to you before it is your time.”

“Ahri…” You weren’t sure what to say. You had never thought that you would come to mean anything to the spirits here, at least not any more than anyone else who had done the job before you. You were so used to being tolerated that being appreciated felt like a foreign concept.

Ahri let out a contemplative hum. “I want to believe that you can bring Thresh back to who he used to be, but I can’t trust him just yet.”

She reached a hand up, gently removing one of the gold bells that hung on one of her hair accessories, holding the egg-sized bell out to you in her palm.

“If you need my help, just ring that bell and I’ll come,” she explained. “I will respect your wish to stay here with him, but I won’t have you here without help if you need it.”

“Thank you,” you replied nervously, reaching forward to take the bell from her palm.

“I’ll look forward to two gifts next time in return for all my hard work,” she teased, before her smile dropped in favor of a more serious look. “Just remember to be ready to get on the path when the door to your world opens again. Thresh’s protection will only last until the portal to your home is open.”

“I’ll be ready,” you promised her, even if it still felt like forever before you would be able to return to your life as it normally was.

Ahri smiled, the action lifting the pink stripes on her cheeks. “I think you can finally bring him back to us. Every spirit here will owe you a debt of gratitude.”

“Not more than I owe Thresh for saving my life,” you admitted honestly. “I’m beginning to think that the spirits have more regard for me than my own people do.”

You weren’t sure why you were being so open with someone you barely knew, much less a spirit, but deep down you suspected it was because Ahri felt like the closest thing to a female friend that you had ever had, as sad as that was to admit to yourself. For her part, Ahri didn’t seem to mind your oversharing, her smile unchanging.

“I will have to ask one more favor of you,” she said, bringing a finger up to her lips. “Don’t tell Thresh I was here. I don’t want him to be distracted by our past, so it’s better he doesn’t know that I came to talk to his little human guest.”

You weren’t so sure that hiding herself from Thresh would benefit him, but you agreed. It seemed to you that both of them cared for each other, but neither one seemed willing to make the first move. Thresh was too buried in his self-loathing, and Ahri seemed to think him seeing her again would be too painful for him. You didn’t know the full extent of their past, but it seemed to you that Thresh would benefit from knowing that other spirits cared about him. But at the same time, you had to respect Ahri’s wishes.

“…if he wanted to talk to you, would you see him?” you asked quietly.

Her blue eyes looked sad. “Of course I would, but I know he won’t want to see my face after all that’s happened between us.”

“Ahri…”

Her ears suddenly perked up and she glanced back over her shoulder quickly. “I can sense him coming back. I have to go.”

She brushed past you before turning back one more time. “I hope you can do what I couldn’t and get through to him. Remember that you hold more power than you think.”

She flashed one last smile before her form changed with a cloud of blue fire, leaving the fox with the teal tail in her place. With a farewell bark, she darted off behind the temple.

When her tail finally vanished from sight, you turned back to face the purple woods ahead of you. If what Ahri said was right, then Thresh would be coming back soon, and he would be expecting to find you inside the temple. You didn’t want to worry him, so you quickly retreated inside, closing the door behind you.

You had picked up the broom for an excuse, but had been so nervous that you had been zoning out staring at it when the front door slid open and your name was called.

You knew that he was coming back, but you were still startled when you looked up to see Thresh standing just inside the doorway, looking concerned. You straightened up, probably too straight, the broom falling from your grasp and hitting the floor with a loud thump.

How were you supposed to act now? You had hardly had any time to process what Ahri had told you, and now Thresh was here, unaware of what had transpired in the last ten minutes.

“Welcome back,” you greeted him, reaching down to pick up the fallen broom.

You looked back up at him, nervous that he would see right through you, but to your surprise, he didn’t ask questions, but instead approached you with a soft smile on his face.

“I am relieved to see you safe,” he said softly.

“I’m fine,” you replied. “You worry too much. You were only gone a few hours.”

He looked like he might continue to fret, so you changed the subject for both of your sakes. “How was the trading post?”

“It was… lively,” he answered. “I hope you did not overwork yourself cleaning my temple.”

“I didn’t do too much,” you answered, allowing yourself to relax at last; Thresh seemed the same as when he had left earlier. You shook your head, mentally scolding yourself; of course he was acting normal, he wasn’t the one struggling with the new information that you were.

What Ahri told you did make sense; you had realized pretty early on that Thresh was a lonesome spirit. Hearing that he had kept souls with him instead of letting them go on their soul’s journey had not fully surprised you, but you also hadn’t found yourself as scared as Ahri seemed to think you should be.

You only had a month in this place, was that really long enough to heal all of the pain that Thresh had collected in his heart over a lifetime? Ahri had too much faith in you, you were sure of that, but at the same time, you had meant what you had said; you didn’t want to just abandon him. He was no danger to you, this spirit that would sneeze if he even <i>saw</i> dust and was clearly more nervous around you than you were around him.

You had zoned out again, coming back to see Thresh before you, eyebrows drawn downwards in concern.

“Are you ill?” he asked, placing his ungloved hand against your forehead. “If you require–”

“I’m fine!” you insisted, backing away from his touch, his eyes widening in surprise at your reaction.

He looked a little hurt, which made you feel bad, but before you could apologize, he had moved away from you. You watched as he reached into his satchel, pulling out a small cloth package.

“I have procured you a gift. Hopefully it will help lift your spirits.”

You accepted the package, lifting the cloth folds to find four soft white balls, the sight something you hadn’t seen since your grandmother was alive. “Daifuku…”

“I have been told that they make these at human festivals,” Thresh said. “I was told these ones have strawberries inside.”

…just how your grandmother used to make them. You hadn’t even realized you were crying until the first tear fell from your chin, dripping onto the cloth in your hands. You blinked, realizing that your eyes were wet. You had really thought you had finally got over the loss of your grandmother, but seeing the strawberry daifuku, clearly wrapped and prepared with such care, brought your emotions back to where you had been that day six months ago when you had gotten the news.

Your tears had immediately frazzled Thresh, whose eyes went impossibly wide. “Are you… I should not have…”

You brought a hand up to wipe your tears away with your sleeve, sniffling maybe slightly too loudly in your efforts to rein in your sudden burst of emotion.

“It’s not your fault!” you cried out, startling both of you with your sudden volume. “It’s just… my grandmother used to make strawberry daifuku for me before she died. She was… she was the spirit guardian before me.”

Thresh quietly took in the information, staring hesitantly at you. “So you are not displeased?”

You took a further few seconds to compose yourself before replying. “No, I’m not displeased. It’s just been a lonely six months since she died, and she always made these to cheer me up when I was upset.”

“You are lonely?” Thresh inquired. “I have heard your village is quite a populated one.”

You bit your lip, his words bringing back every bad memory you had of your life growing up as the granddaughter of the spirit guardian, next in line for the position yourself. The pain of their treatment felt ten times worse now that your grandmother was not there to share the burden of social isolation with you.

You let out a sad sigh. “Could we have some tea?”

Thresh readily agreed, and soon you sat across from each other at that small table, a cup of tea in front of you, the daifuku placed in the middle of the table, yet untouched.

“I only really spent time with my grandma. The other villagers tolerate us for what we do for them, but they don’t like us. Unless they’re forced to speak to me, they just avoid me.”

“I do not understand why,” Thresh retorted, purple eyes dark with anger. “You have been here so little time, but you are already so dear to me. Your people are ignorant.”

“They’re scared,” you corrected. “They think that I hold some influence over the spirits just because I bring you gifts. They think that if they make me mad, I’ll tell you to burn their homes down or something. I’ve overheard mothers telling their children not to make eye contact with me. Even if I did have the power to make spirits do what I want, I would never use it, but it’s not like any of them would believe me if I told them that.”

Thresh’s angry look had softened into one of sadness, pity clear in his eyes. The look made you uncomfortable, not used to being looked at like that by anybody. Your grandmother had been the only person who ever listened to your worries, and now she was gone to a place far beyond your reach.

“They’ve probably noticed I’m gone by now. I assume they’re more worried about finding my replacement than my likely death,” you mused sadly. “Thanks for listening, Thresh. It’s been a long time since I had someone to talk to.”

“I know what it is like to be so… alone,” Thresh spoke softly, nail tracing along the side of his still-full teacup. “The souls are… <i>were</i> my companions. They gave me power, and they kept me company.”

You said nothing, Ahri’s words from earlier echoing in your head as you gazed at the forlorn spirit before you.

“But they were not mine to keep,” he continued. “They were by my side at the expense of their soul’s path. The loneliness I suffer is my punishment for falling to such ignoble behavior.”

“Thresh…”

“But you have done nothing to deserve to be shunned by your world,” he growled. “I do not deserve the offerings you bring, but they are unworthy of the protection this world lends them.”

“I’ve never thought about it like that before,” you admitted. “But I don’t want them to be subjected to the mountain’s dangers just because they don’t like me. And without this job, I would have nothing. I feel like it’s my last tie to my grandmother, doing what she did for so long.”

You had been staring down at the table, but looked up as Thresh’s arm came in your peripheral vision. You watched as he gently picked up a soft daifuku, setting it down in front of you. Your gaze shot up, meeting his startlingly intense violet eyes.

“You have not lost your ties to her. Souls do not cease to be when they die. When I touch a soul, I can see how they came to this place, what is most important to them. I did not encounter the soul of your grandmother, but I am sure that if I did, I would be shown your face. Your memories with her are your connection to her soul.”

You pulled back from the table, not wanting your tears to fall in your likely-lukewarm tea. His words had a strange way of seeping into your skin, your loneliness feeling less heavy on your chest as you took in his words.

It was hard not to feel alone in your empty house, in a village that feared and hated you. But here you were, with someone alike in your pain, even if your lives could not have been more different. Here you were, sharing tea and daifuku like you had done so many times with your grandmother. The memories of her didn’t have to be a burden; they could be your strength.

Thresh must think you were a bad representation of your species, crying your heart out in front of him like a baby. But when you wiped your tears and gathered up the courage to look at his face, you found it surprisingly neutral, watching you like he was hesitant to say any more.

You picked up the daifuku, taking a bite and savoring its gentle sweetness on your tongue. The taste swept you up, and soon you had finished the whole thing. Realizing you still had company, as silent as he was right now, you swallowed the last bit of daifuku before setting your palms on the table.

“Thank you,” you said. “For the daifuku, and for what you said. I don’t think I’ve felt this content in a long time.”

Your tears hadn’t fully stopped, and that combined with your smile seemed to be confusing the spirit before you, but he nodded in response, a small smile gracing his lips. “I am glad I could help ease your burden, little human.”

“Are you going to eat one?” you asked, gesturing to the daifuku.

Thresh reached forward, taking a daifuku in hand and bringing it up to his mouth, staring at it in wonder.

“Have you not had daifuku before?” you asked curiously as you reached for another one yourself.

“I do not partake in food often,” Thresh admitted. “The shopkeeper told me that this was a food humans liked to eat.”

You smiled at his thoughtfulness; it was a nice feeling to know that he had taken such care in selecting something for you that he thought you would like. Combined with the slight flush to his cheeks and his shy smile, you almost couldn’t believe he was one of the spirits you had held in awed regard for so long. He had no reason to go so out of his way to bring you a comfort from home, but in doing so, he had shown more consideration for you than anyone in your village ever had.

You would repay him for his kindness; if he could pull you out of your misery, then you would do whatever you could to do the same for him. And you only had a month here to convince him of his worth, so you would have to start soon. That night, you went to bed with hope in your heart, hope that you and Thresh were both worthy of more.

 You sat up, your bare legs being tickled by the grass you laid on. Looking around, you found yourself in a glade, surrounded by dark, gnarled trees that grew so far overhead that they blocked the sky entirely. You didn’t know what time it was, or where you were, or how you had gotten here.

You jolted forward at the sensation of something brushing against your back, a chill running up your spine at the sudden contact. You turned your head back to look, but saw nothing but the dark forest that surrounded you. A loud snarl rang out in the quiet forest, startling you and sending you curling in on yourself in fear. What was happening around you?

“I cannot see you,” came a dark growl, followed by a face appearing out of the darkness mere inches from your own.

You scrambled back with a scream, staring in terror at the large creature before you that you were horrified to realize that you recognized.

“I cannot hear you,” the demon-faced worm continued, its long body twisting around just above you. “But I can <i>smell</i> you.”

You pressed yourself back into the grass, desperate for this <i>thing</i> to not touch you in its circling in the air. There was no mistaking this demon for anything but the one that had attacked you that night in the forest. The realization brought a phantom pain to your shoulder, your memories returning to you in full.

How did you get to this place? You had been safe. Thresh told you that you were safe. Your only relief was that the demon didn’t seem to be able to see or hear you.

“I can smell your fear,” it purred sinisterly. “But it is your flesh I want. I was so close, and then your delicious fear would have been all mine.”

There was nowhere to run. The trees blocked you in, and even if there was a gap in the branches to run to, you were too scared to move and break whatever spell kept the azakana from seeing you.

“I can still taste your blood,” the azakana snarled, its wormlike body thrashing violently above you. “And I will taste it again. You cannot hide from my eyes forever, and then you will be mine to savor, to break into a thousand pieces before I devour your weak body. You will never escape your fate.”

A flash of light crashed above you and you closed your eyes, raising your arms up to shield your face. It felt like the bright light was about to be upon you, but then it all faded to black.

You sat up in bed with a gasp, breathing heavily. Looking around the familiar room, your heartbeat began to slow as you realized that it had just been an awful dream. It had felt so real; that azakana’s horrible raspy growls right next to your ear that had spoken of promises of not being done with you yet sending chills up your arms even if the safety of your room.

Immediately, you wanted to tell Thresh what had happened, but quickly reconsidered. It had been horrible, but it was just a dream. Thresh was a worrier, and you didn’t want to trouble him with something as silly as a bad dream, not when he had so much of his own problems to worry about.

Letting out a sigh, you laid back down on your side in your futon. You stared at the mountainscape painting on the wall, letting the still image relax you and bring you back to reality. You knew it was still too early to get up, so you would have to try to get back to sleep, as daunting of a task as that seemed right now. Closing your eyes, you could only hope that your impending sleep would be dreamless.

 You woke up slowly, unable to remember if you had dreamed or not, which was a vast improvement on your earlier nightmare. Feeling fully rested, you only felt more confident in your decision to keep this to yourself. Thresh had more important things to worry about than a human having a bad dream, and you supposed that today was as good a day as any to start working on that promise you had made Ahri to restore Thresh’s confidence in himself.

You began to brainstorm ideas as you did a sweep of the entry room. Since you had begun cleaning, the temple didn’t have much dirt to sweep up, but the action helped you focus on how you would get Thresh to begin helping souls again.

You doubted he would agree just because you asked him; while he had done it for that soul in turmoil, the emotional aftermath was something you thought it would be better to avoid if you wanted to make progress. But what else did that leave?

Starting slow seemed like your best bet, but how would you get him out of the temple? Stuck in here, he would likely not get any better, considering how much of a hermit he had been for so long. Setting the broom against the wall, you finally had an idea settle in your mind, as sneaky as it may be.

 “The lake of souls?” Thresh echoed, caught off guard.

You had ambushed him the moment he had come into the room, startling him with your sudden request.

“I like to bathe every day if I can,” you spoke, doing your best to sound casual so he wouldn’t suspect anything. “Would it be okay if we went back today?”

Thresh stared down at you, blinking tiredly. He tended to be sleepier in the mornings, which you were hoping would aide you in your plan. As you waited for him to reply, you took in his messy bangs and rumpled collar. You found yourself constantly surprised by how cute he was; such a difference from your initial impression.

Eventually, the half-awake spirit relented with a slow nod. “I can take you there now.”

“How about some tea first?” you suggested. “I don’t want you to doze off and fall into the lake.”

Recalling the fact that you had caught him sleeping standing up two mornings ago, Thresh agreed. “…that may be wise.”

He allowed you to force some morning tea on him, and was considerably more awake when you both set out. As you followed him down the forest path, you began to appreciate his demonic form as well, the purple of his skin contrasting beautifully with the violet of the trees all around you.

You would have to start slow, but you were already running into problems. What would be a happy medium between doing nothing and pushing him at a soul and telling him to deal with it? You knew that getting him to talk to Ahri would likely be good for both of them, but that would probably require a lot of convincing both of them to agree. Ahri didn’t seem confident that Thresh could change so easily, so you would have to show her that he was worth redemption before you got her to meet him again.

You had been probably too deep in your thoughts, so deep that you hadn’t noticed that you had arrived at the lake until Thresh was in front of you, leaning towards your face with a worried expression.

You quickly stepped back, embarrassed by both his sudden closeness and your own lack of paying attention to your surroundings. Giving yourself a moment to calm down, you looked from Thresh to the waters behind him, just as beautiful as they had been yesterday. The sight focussed you; you couldn’t let this chance go to waste, even as uncertain as you felt.

“Um, Thresh…?” you spoke up, nerves doubling when he looked at you curiously with his white eyes. “How often do souls appear here?”

Thresh turned to look out at the water as he considered your question. “It is more frequent at times of strife and war in your world, but otherwise it remains steady. Although the flow of death may have changed in my absence of duties.”

“Do you want to try again?” you asked carefully. “Like the last time we were here?”

“I…” He sounded conflicted, posture too stiff. “If I repeat the same mistakes–”

You stayed silent until he finally looked back at you, finding yourself shocked by the tears pooling unshed in his eyes. “How can I know that I will not give into my cursed loneliness again? If I were to accept my role and then fail again… I am afraid I will not survive another fall.”

Thresh let out a low exhale, closing his eyes for a short moment before reopening them, his eyes no longer watery, but expression still plainly sad.

“I know it’s not much, but I’m here now,” you offered. “So you won’t be lonely while I’m here with you.”

Thresh looked surprised, his eyebrows raising as he stared at you in disbelief. But you could still see the reluctance on his face; as much as you wanted to help him, it would be hard to fix so many lifetimes full of trauma. Just when you were ready to hear his rejection again, an idea came to you, and you couldn’t help but cut off Thresh’s about-to-be-spoken words in your excitement.

“One soul a day!” you exclaimed as soon as the idea hit you.

“You…”  Thresh seemed confused, which was fair considering you had just shouted words in his face with no context.

“One soul a day,” you repeated, holding up one finger before him. “What if you help one soul every day? I’ll be here to keep you from getting lonely, and if it’s too difficult, you can stop, but just try one a day… please?”

“One soul a day,” he muttered to himself, running one hand up his other arm as if trying to stave off a chill.

“I’m right here,” you insisted. “I’ll be right here if you need me.”

You could see the hope in his face. You could see how close he was to agreeing, but he was still holding himself back. Why was he still resisting?

“Please, Thresh,” you appealed to him one more time, unable to keep the emotions you were feeling out of your voice. “You can really help these souls. If it were me… if it was my grandmother’s soul, I would feel better knowing someone like you was here to greet her when she came here.”

“If it were you…” he considered with a soft sigh. “I suppose I cannot abandon these souls if they have left someone like you behind.”

“Thank you!” you cried out in relief, surging forward to wrap your arms around him in a hug.

Feeling him stiffen immediately, you pulled back as you realized what it was you had just done. You had been so overjoyed that it had overwhelmed you, or at least that was the only reasoning you could come up with.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking–”

“No, you have done nothing to offend me,” Thresh denied awkwardly, skin noticeably pink even as his lips formed a small, shy smile. “I did not mind your contact at all.”

You felt your own face warm as you stared at Thresh’s happy blushing face, a realization crashing onto you. Nobody your age in your village really talked to you, but you had taken notice of boys your age, wishing they would talk to you while knowing that they never would. But staring at Thresh now…

“…actually, I rather enjoyed your embrace,” he admitted, shocking you with his openness.

You quickly looked down, nails biting into your palms at your sides. This was more than you had ever felt for any cute boy you had admired from afar in your village, more than any emotions you had felt when reading romantic stories in books your grandmother had bought you. This spirit in front of you who did not rebuff your contact, but instead seemed to welcome it had developed a closer place in your heart than any of the people in the village that your duties protected, and you didn’t know what to do now that you realized how your feelings were changing.

You were too scared to confront the feelings inside you, so you opted for the easy way out. “So when do you think a soul will appear?”

 Thresh had handled the soul perfectly that day, if not slightly more nervously than the first time you had seen him do it. You had stood by his side as he had called the soul to him, taking it into his lantern and then releasing it. You could tell he had hesitated when letting the spirit go, but he had done it without complaint, even though you knew his mind was likely on his past as he did so.

You had been surprised to return to Thresh’s temple that day to see that one of the lanterns that floated in the river around the temple was now lit with a bright purple light. You hadn’t been the only one who was surprised; Thresh had stared openly in awe of the lit lantern, something he then told you he had not seen in hundreds of years.

You began to notice a pattern. Every day when you returned from the lake, a new lantern had lit up. The lights were exciting to look at in the daytime, but were downright mesmerizing at night, vibrant purple light drifting gently on the water. As the days passed and more lanterns came alight, you and Thresh began to take your evening tea outside.

“It’s so beautiful,” you said after taking a sip of your tea. “We don’t have anything like this in my village. Not unless you believe the rumors about what it looks like at the top of Mount Targon.”

“I have grown so used to this sight that it becomes hard to appreciate it,” Thresh mused. “But sitting here with you, it feels like I am seeing this world anew.”

“I felt the same way after I nearly died,” you replied. “This world has always amazed me, but after you saved me, I’ve gotten to see so many new sides of this place. You would think it would scare me to be here after I was attacked, but I don’t feel scared at all.”

“…not even of me?” Thresh asked quietly. “Nobody would blame you would fleeing at the first chance you got from a fiend like I. I admit I was pleasantly surprised to return from the trading post to find you still here.”

You turned from the lanterns to face Thresh, his expression neutral, but eyes wavering like he was anticipating a rejection.

“How could I be scared of you?” you countered. “You’ve been kinder to me than anyone. And you’re not really scary, not unless you have your gold mask on.”

“…oh,” was Thresh’s muted response.

You couldn’t help a quiet laugh. He was so hard on himself. It was no wonder it was like pulling teeth to get him to agree to your one-soul-a-day plan. He had been alone for so long, with not even himself to believe in him.

You knew that you were maybe putting yourself too out there as you leaned your head against his shoulder. “I wouldn’t have survived here without you. And I don’t just mean you rescuing me. Your company has been the biggest blessing I’ve received in a long time, Thresh.”

He didn’t respond, so you made to move your head from his shoulder to look at his face, but were stopped by a gentle hand on the back of your head.

“Could I ask you to stay like this, little human? Just for a bit longer?”

You hummed quietly, leaning into his side as his hand instead began to gently run over your hair, the glow of the lanterns illuminating the softly-flowing water before you.

 Your plan to slowly adapt Thresh to handling souls again had been going well; every day a new lantern lit up, and he was able to maintain his humanlike form outside the temple for longer and longer. No matter how much you tried to reassure him that you didn’t find his demonic form off-putting, he still seemed insistent to be in his “prettier” form as much as he could around you.

You knew he didn’t make the same effort when he wasn’t around you; every time he went on a run to the trading post, you saw him drop his humanlike form when he hit the trees and didn’t think your eyes were still on him. It had to have been a drain on him to stay in his purple-haired form as long as he could, but he never complained. You had come to find both of his forms… attractive, in their own respective ways, but it wasn’t like you could just openly tell him that. He was a spirit and you were a human, and besides that, your time here was limited.

You had been trying not to think about it, but your time here was almost up. You had three days left before you would go back to your usual life, a thought which only felt more painful considering the taste you had gotten of a better life, one where you weren’t some pariah. But you said nothing of your worries to Thresh; if you wanted to help him, you had to be strong and face the end of your time together with a smile on your face.

You had finally realized the extent of your feelings for Thresh, back a week ago sitting at the river’s edge with your head on his shoulder. At first you had dismissed the butterflies in your stomach as nothing more than situational; of course you would feel like this, he was the only man to ever really interact on a meaningful level with you, anyone in your situation would feel the same way. You told yourself that again and again, but it didn’t feel right. Eventually, you were forced to confront the truth; you weren’t feeling this way because he was a man who bothered to talk to you, you were feeling like this because he was the man he was.

He hadn’t offered you his shoulder since that night, but that didn’t mean that he was pulling away from you; in fact, it was quite the opposite. He seemed to have an incessant need to be close to you, and had insisted on holding your hand every day on your walks to and from the lake. You were unable to refuse the contact, as much as you knew it would hurt you in the end when you had to leave. Whenever he smiled that wide, toothy smile at you, you were putty in his hands.

You couldn’t bring yourself to pull away from him, so you allowed yourself to just enjoy his closeness for now, even if the impending end to your time together was slowly burning a hole in your chest. But even if you wanted to forget how little time you had left here, you couldn’t. You still had one more thing you had to do.

Thresh had gone on what was to be the last supply run while you were still here, promising to bring back a special tea he had heard about as well as more daifuku. You watched him go, waiting until you could no longer see his figure before you enacted your plan.

You soon wouldn’t be here to keep Thresh company, so you needed to make sure someone was. And given your limited interactions with other spirits in this world, the choice was easy to make.

It was obvious that Ahri cared about Thresh, but not to the detriment of the souls. But he had come so far, and you needed Ahri to see that. If you wanted to return Thresh to his former glory, her support would be vital.

You hadn’t seen her again since that day, but you had a feeling that she was still keeping an eye out for you. You knew that neither of them would reach out to each other on their own, their shame and pride too much for them to overcome by themselves, so you would take things into your own hands.

You retreated back to your room, snatching up the scroll and writing brush Thresh had given you when you had expressed an interest in drawing to help pass the time. Tearing off a section of the scroll, you began to write a letter to Ahri, asking her to come to the lake tomorrow at mid-morning.

After the ink had dried, you folded the note in half before making your way to the area behind the temple where you had spoken to Ahri before. Bending down, you placed the folded paper on the ground, then placing a large rock on top of it to keep it from fleeing with the wind.

Once the note was secured, you stood back up, looking out over the forest. If you had been on your spirit walk, you would have continued walking into the forest and onto the next temple, but right now was anything but an ordinary visit to the spirit world. You were having a hard time remembering which spirit’s temple was after Thresh’s on your route… was it the one with the arrow? Or maybe the one with the antlers carved into their pedestal?

Either way, you couldn’t see much of anything in the forest behind the temple. You knew it would be too much to hope to see a small fox lingering around, but you would have to trust that she would find the note and agree to meet you tomorrow. You knew that she wanted to see Thresh performing his duties as he once had, so you hoped that her curiosity of what could be would compel her to accept your invitation. She seemed to have faith in you, so you hoped that she still trusted your judgment.

There was no point standing out here, not knowing when Ahri would even come by, but you had never seen Thresh come back here, so you knew the note would be safe from anyone but Ahri finding it. So it was back inside for you to work on the idle work; Thresh had gotten you some new clothing to wear after noticing your discomfort with your blood-stained ceremonial robes, and you had been slowly trying to repair the stained and ripped clothing. Maybe you could finally sew up the hole in the shoulder before Thresh returned from the trading post.

The next day, you were walking with Thresh to the lake, trying not to let all of your worries show on your face, but it was hard not to think about all of the events that would soon be upon you. This would be your one and only chance to get Ahri and Thresh to make up, at least while you were still here. And more troubling still, today would be your last full day here; at ten o’clock tomorrow night, you would step back onto the silver path and leave this place behind for your regular life. Somehow the thought of walking through this place as spirit guardian sent sadness coursing through you, since when you walked the silver path again, you would no longer be able to see Thresh.

But you wouldn’t let Thresh know of your dour thoughts, putting a smile on your face as you talked about what a nice day it was, although that didn’t mean that your eyes didn’t begin to fervently scan the area once you arrived at the lake.

You were not as subtle as you thought, as Thresh turned his head to look back at the patch of trees you were currently eyeing.

“Does something trouble you? The azakana should not–”

“No, it’s nothing!” you quickly denied. “No azakana, just…”

Then you caught sight of something over Thresh’s shoulder, a fluffy-tailed little creature emerging from the bushes. This was it. You could feel your heart rate pick up considerably, your palms feeling sweaty as you felt the pressure for this to go well.

Why had you put off telling him until now? It just made things harder. But you couldn’t lie to yourself; every time you had wanted to warn him, he had looked at you with those soft eyes and you had chickened out.

In truth, you were scared. Even thinking of Ahri seemed to send Thresh’s mood downward, so how was he going to react when he found out that you had gone behind his back and met her, had invited her here now? It was selfish, but you just wanted to enjoy the rest of the time you had left until you had to tell him. You knew he would have every reason to cast you out early over this betrayal, but at the same time, it had to be done. You couldn’t continue to be selfish with such important things at stake.

“Thresh, there’s something I have to tell you,” you said, forcing each word out almost against your will.

“Are you alright?” he asked with a frown, one hand raising to cup your cheek. “If something is ailing you, I will–”

“I’m okay,” you said, trying to keep yourself together. “But there’s something you need to know. I met with Ahri.”

Thresh froze, his hand cold against your skin. Ahri had emerged fully from the brush by this point, but did not come any closer, her eyes on the scene before her. Turning your focus back to the spirit before you, you found Thresh staring down at you, waiting for an explanation, the pain in his face making you feel like you had thorns in your heart.

“The first time you left for the trading post, she came to see me. She was worried… worried that you would do the same thing with me that you used to do with souls.”

Thresh looked down, hand dropping from your cheek like you had burned him. His pulling away saddened you, but you had to keep going.

“I told her you weren’t like that anymore!” you exclaimed. “I told her that you’re a good person, Thresh. That you just needed help to restore your faith in yourself.”

“She told you about me?” Thresh’s voice was so quiet that it was hard to hear. “What I used to be… I had hoped you would never know. I fear I could not take your rejection too.”

You had expected anger, not this almost tangible sadness. Thresh’s breathing was shuddered, the spirit shrinking in on himself, unwilling to meet your eyes. He looked broken, and the sight hurt your heart so much that you found yourself reaching out to him, laying your hand over the cold metal of his golden jaw mask, fingers brushing against the purple skin of his face.

“I don’t care who you used to be,” you spoke, hoping your words would be enough to reach him. “I care about who you are now, Thresh. These past weeks I have seen a spirit who is more than worthy of taking care of human souls, and I wanted Ahri to see too. You’re both hurting, and I just wanted you to understand each other for once.”

“I can’t say I expected to see you like this, Thresh,” Ahri said, now in her shifted form as she walked towards you.

“Ahri…” Thresh pulled back from you to turn and face her.

“It’s been a long time,” she greeted. “But she’s right. This talk has been long overdue.”

“I am not…”

“Please, Thresh, just listen to her,” you implored him, taking his hand back in yours.

Thresh whispered your name, staring down at your joined hands for a long moment before relenting. “…very well.”

“Glad to see you listen to someone,” Ahri grinned, holding up her hands in mock surrender when faced with Thresh’s grumpy frown in response. “I’ve been wanting to talk with you for quite a while, but it didn’t feel right since I was the reason for our falling out.”

“You have done nothing I did not deserve, I know that now,” Thresh replied. “I do not deserve this duty, not when I am so weak to fall prey to my own wretched loneliness.”

“I’ve made mistakes too,” Ahri said. “I never realized that you felt like that, not until it was too late. We spirits have a responsibility to the souls of the dead, but we cannot forsake each other in the name of performing our duty. I failed you, Thresh, as a fellow spirit and as a friend.”

“I thought…” Thresh trailed off.

“Don’t get me wrong, you deserved the lecture I gave you,” Ahri said, voice light despite her harsh words. “But that little human of yours has made me realize that I can’t hold your past against you forever.”

A small splash had your collective attentions turning to the lake, where a new soul had appeared on the surface of the water, a gray-purple in color. It was lacking the furor of the first soul you had seen had, which Thresh had told you indicated that this was an expected death, the soul free of distress, but still needing guidance.

Thresh hadn’t moved, so you tried to urge him into action with a squeeze of his hand. His fingers clutched back at yours reflexively, reluctant white eyes sliding down to meet yours. You stared deeply into his eyes, trying to convey your confidence in him without words.

Then, as one final attempt. “Please.”

Thresh sighed, but it didn’t sound sad, instead having the tone of a parent indulging a child’s whim. “It seems I am unable to deny you anything.”

You let your hands slip apart, your attention moving back to Ahri as you suddenly remembered that she was there as well, much to your embarrassment. You were surprised to see her looking your way with a bittersweet smile on her face, her expression shifting to careful neutrality when she noticed that your eyes were on her.

Thresh approached the water’s edge, just like he had done every day for the past couple of weeks, beckoning the soul towards him. Your attention was split between watching him and looking at Ahri’s face for any clues on how she was feeling.

The air grew noticeably tense as the soul reached Thresh’s outstretched hand. Despite your faith in Thresh, you still held your breath as you watched him interact with the soul, waiting for him to release it into the air as he had done every time before. Looking over at Ahri, you found her just as tense as you if not more so, her jaw tight and body rigid as if she was expecting to spring into action at any moment.

Just as you began to feel like you couldn’t take your heightened nerves any longer, the soul passed through Thresh’s lantern before releasing into the air. The tension finally broke, and your body sagged forward in relief like a puppet whose strings had been cut.

“You were right,” Ahri whispered, her bright blue eyes still on Thresh. “I never thought I would see him like this again.”

“Will you… help him? After I go back to my village?” you whispered back.

Ahri sighed. “I’ll have to. I can’t imagine he’ll be feeling very well after you leave.”

“What?”

Ahri turned to you with a raised eyebrow. “I’ve been here for five minutes and I can see how he looks at you. How much he trusts you.”

“Ahri…”

Then Thresh turned back to you and the moment was broken. He looked so relieved that the questions you had for Ahri vanished from your mind. He was able to maintain his purple-haired form all the way back over to you, before his power waned again and his pale skin bled to vibrant purple again.

You wanted to congratulate him, to offer some words to let him know how proud you were of him, but the words again died as you met his eyes, saw his happy grin. But as happy as you were for him, his smile also made you feel hollow inside as the thought occurred to you that you wouldn’t be seeing it any more after tomorrow. The only man you had ever… ever <i>loved</i>, and you were about to lose him forever.

A sob tore from your throat, tears overflowing from your eyes and trailing down your cheeks. You cursed yourself, knowing you were ruining this important moment for Thresh, yet you were unable to stop the tears from coming.

Thresh cried out your name, rushing forward until he was stopped by Ahri stepping between the two of you.

“Do not get in my way, Ahri,” Thresh seethed, agitated.

“Stand down,” Ahri stressed gently. “I don’t need you making things worse with your worrying.”

“She is in pain, and I have vowed to protect her–”

“From <i>azakana</i>,” Ahri interrupted. “This time, let me help her. She needs a woman’s advice right now.”

“But–”

“It’s okay, Thresh,” you chimed in, desperately wiping at your wet eyes. You really didn’t want him to see you like this, crying over the inevitable. “Ahri’s right, it’s just… a girl issue.”

“We’re at the lake anyways,” Ahri said. “We’ll have a bath and talk and then I’ll bring her back to your temple. Does that work for you, sir protector?”

“A bath?” Thresh pouted.

“Don’t be jealous,” Ahri teased. “And besides, she still has your mark. You would know if anything happens to her in my care.”

“Thresh?” Your quiet voice turned his focus back to you, though he still looked sulky. “Could we have some of that new tea you bought when I get back?”

It took a few seconds, but eventually he nodded. “Of course.”

“You can stop worrying. I’ll take care of your precious human,” Ahri said with a grin. “Now, go. We have some girl time to start.”

Thresh levelled a stern look at Ahri, who didn’t bat an eye, but stepped out of the way at last to allow him access to you.

��I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Ahri,” you said. “But I wanted her to see that you could do this for herself.”

“I am not upset with you,” Thresh replied. “You have pulled me out of the darkness that has been suffocating me for too long. I only worry for you now... are you truly alright? I do not like to see your tears.”

“I’m okay,” you insisted. “Sorry I keep crying in front of you, but Ahri’s right, it’s just a girl issue.”

You felt bad stretching the truth, but you didn’t want to worry Thresh any more than you already had. Thankfully he accepted your explanation without much further trouble, but that didn’t mean he didn’t continue looking over his shoulder at you every few seconds for his entire walk back into the forest.

You and Ahri were silent as you watched him go, with you offering him a smile to reassure him every time he turned his head back to look until he was out of sight.

When he was gone at last, Ahri turned to you with a playful eye roll. “He’s so overprotective.”

“Um, I…” You weren’t sure what to say, but your cheeks felt too warm.

Ahri began to untie her obi, letting the garment fall to the ground and raising an eyebrow at your confused stare. “I wasn’t kidding about the bath. I’ve been needing a good soak after all the stress this month.”

You nodded, following her lead and undressing and getting into the crystal water with her. Ahri leaned back, closing her eyes and letting her tails fan out in the water.

You leaned back as well, dunking your hair in the water; if you were here, you might as well take the opportunity to wash yourself. Neither of you spoke, just enjoying the cool water, until Ahri finally broke the silence.

“I’ll have my hands full after tomorrow night,” she said. “Thresh is going to be even worse than he was all those years ago after he loses you.”

“But he still has you,” you protested.

“You really don’t get it?” she countered. “Nobody here could reach him, not until you came along. You mean more to him than a thousand human souls. And I can see you feel the same way for him as he does for you.”

“What does it matter?” you replied, knowing you were owning up to her allegations. “What can I do when we only have one more day together? It will only hurt worse if I tell him my feelings and then we have to part forever. I don’t want to hurt him more.”

Ahri sighed. “But what about you? You don’t think he cares if you’re hurting?”

“I’m used to it,” you dismissed with a sad smile. “Loneliness is expected with the life I live. I learned long ago that there was nothing I could do to change people’s minds about me. But Thresh talked to me, he let me experience what it was like to feel like someone cares… that is enough for me.”

Ahri was silent for a long moment. “Fine. I see you have your mind made up, but just remember where the ones who care about you truly are.”

 The talk with Ahri had really helped you calm down, and had solidified your feelings about the rest of your time with Thresh. Even if he did feel for you like you did for him like she had said, there was no point in doing anything about it right before you were to be parted forever. Just spending time with him the same way you had been was enough; then both of you would not suffer more in the end.

Thresh had long since prepared the special tea by the time you had got back and had been waiting in the entryway like a dog that missed its owner. You were grateful that Ahri had helped you calm down enough to simply enjoy the time you had left with Thresh, even spending that evening at the river’s edge again, Thresh insistently maneuvering your head onto his shoulder. You knew that you would remember this night for the rest of your life. But the moment could not stretch on forever, much as you would have liked it to, and soon your time here was coming to its end.

You had both been trying to act normal all day the next day, like you weren’t being slowly suffocated by the reality that you would soon have to part. You had drawn out that evening’s teatime long after the tea was drank and the daifuku was eaten. Only when it was half an hour to ten did you finally acknowledge the inevitable, returning to your room for the last time to don your ceremonial clothing for your return to your village.

Would they fear you even more now that you had survived the unsurvivable? It wasn’t like they could avoid you much more than they already did.

An unfamiliar weight as you pulled your skirt on had you reaching into your pocket to pull out the bell Ahri had gifted you at the end of your first meeting. At first, you considered giving it to Thresh to return to her, but selfishly decided against it. Ahri was very astute, so you had no doubt that she realized you still had the bell and seemed fine to let you keep it. And as sad as you would be to think of this place come tomorrow, you couldn’t help but grasp onto this physical reminder of your time here, even if Ahri’s promise of help would not extend to your world as well.

Stowing the bell back in your pocket, you fixed your outfit into place. You had long since repaired the hole in the shoulder, but you had never quite been fully successful in removing the bloodstains from the white garments. You would likely have to replace them with new robes when you got back.

Your steps to the entryway where Thresh was waiting felt so heavy, the air around you like walking through sand, as if your sad reluctance was palpable. But this was your role in life. You would have to just be grateful that you were given the time here that you were.

Entering the front room, you found Thresh standing near the door, his long ears drooped in the way they always were when he was upset. You wished you could do something to help him feel better, but it was hard when you were feeling the same way that he was right now.

“I’m ready,” you said, drawing his attention to you. “Though my bloody clothes will probably give the people in my village a scare.”

“You look beautiful,” Thresh replied softly, sending warmth to your cheeks with his unexpected compliment.

You managed to stutter out a thank you before following Thresh out to the front of the temple, the trees looking very similar under the moonlight as they had that night one month ago when this had all begun.

You knew that you had very little time left, your tongue feeling like lead in your mouth. What could you possibly say to convey everything you were feeling? No words felt like enough right now.

Thresh stepped towards you, quickly taking you into his arms in a tight hug. He seemed determined to maintain his humanlike form until the last possible second, which you let him have without complaint. You didn’t care what form he took, they had both become so precious to you.

“My sweet little human, I will miss you more than you know,” he murmured above your head, holding you close.

“I’ll miss you too… so much,” you replied, still unwilling to completely bare your soul to him. It would be easier for you both this way. You knew it would.

“My tea will taste bitter again,” Thresh added, voice wavering. “This place will feel empty again without you.”

“You’ll see me again,” you said tearfully. “You’ll be here to greet my soul when it arrives here, won’t you?”

“That is not enough,” Thresh retorted miserably. “I want to see your face every day. I want to hear your voice call my name. I do not want to guide your soul in death, I want you here with me in life. No soul will ever have the same worth to me as your living one.”

“Thresh,” you sobbed against his chest. “I don’t want to go, but I have to. I have to…”

“My beautiful human,” Thresh addressed you, pulling back from the hug to look down at you. “May I ask for one final indulgence from you?”

He leaned down towards you, clearly laying his feelings on the table the closer his lips got to yours.

“Please,” you whispered, closing your eyes. You had not expected this, but found yourself wanting so desperately to kiss Thresh. One kiss to remember him by as long as you lived.

You waited, feeling him close the gap, when you were startled by a spark of feeling in your hand, like you had been zapped by lightning.

You weren’t given a second to react before you were violently yanked from the ground and into the air. Letting out a terrified scream, you watched Thresh get farther and farther away the higher into the air you rose.

Your arms and legs constricted, you were only able to move your head to look at your captor, the blood freezing in your veins at the familiar multi-horned face that loomed maliciously over you.

“You could not hide forever,” the azakana hissed. “I will not be denied the taste of your flesh and blood.”

You heard an anguished cry of your name, looking back down to see Thresh below you on the ground, his form reverted back to his demonlike form.

“Release her!” he seethed, shocking you with the rage in his voice. He had removed his hook from his belt and was holding it up as if ready to strike.

“You have no power here,” the azakana taunted. “If you strike me, she will fall. Either way, your puny human will die.”

“Thresh!” you shouted, the azakana squeezing you tighter in its wormlike body in response, your body burning in pain.

Thresh shouted your name again, sounding increasingly more desperate as the azakana stared haughtily down at him.

You could see the silver path now, winding around the temple. You had dreaded that sight all of today, but now it felt miles away. As you were constricted tighter and tighter in the azakana’s hold, everything began to fade farther away. The only thing you could focus on was the anguish on Thresh’s face, the sheer powerlessness of your situation clear.

“You will die!” Thresh seethed. “You hurt her, and you will perish as well!”

“Then I will have a good last meal,” the azakana countered. “Her tasty fear will keep me satisfied in the darkness of death.”

Your hands were pressed tightly to your sides painfully tightly, one hand pressing against a hard lump at your side. You were lamenting the pain from the mystery lump until it hit you; Ahri’s bell was still in your pocket. She had promised help, though you doubted she expected you to use it like this, but you were beyond desperate.

Wiggling a hand up and into your pocket, you gritted your teeth against the severe pain in your body as you clasped your fingers around the bell, shaking it as much as you could given your current movement restrictions.

“Please, Ahri, please!” you begged quietly, the azakana’s cruel laughter ringing out above your head, black spots starting to dot your vision from your prolonged constraint.

You couldn’t hear the bell make any noise, but shook it in your closed fist until your hand felt too numb to move. You were wheezing, trying desperately to breathe, about to pass out when you were forced to close your eyes to avoid being blinded by a bright flash of light.

The azakana’s body curled ever tighter around you, and then that pressure loosened all at once, restoring your lost breath to your aching body. Looking over at the source of the bright light, you saw a figure with snow white skin and hair, bright teal tails flared out behind her.

Ahri did not waste a second, charging at the demon again, her foxfire burning a hole through the monster, who shrieked in pain as it was cleaved in two by Ahri’s fierce attacks. The creature was dead, but that left you high in the air with a worm demon’s body that was about to uncurl and send you plummeting to your death.

“Thresh!” Ahri yelled, her voice distorted with a ferocity you hadn’t known she had in her.

The dead azakana’s body went limp and you slipped from its grip, quickly falling towards the ground. You stared at the coming ground, terror chilling your sore limbs as you fell closer and closer to your death.

Suddenly you were surprised by a shout of your name, followed by an object appearing in your field of vision. As you fell closer to it, you realized that it looked familiar, quickly recognizing it as Thresh’s lantern.

“Take hold of it!” Thresh shouted, and you did your best to obey, shifting your body in the air to reach out for the lantern with the last of your strength.

You were barely able to make it, the tips of your fingers just grazing the ethereal lantern, but the effect was immediate. Like an elastic pulled to its limit, you were instantly snapped through the air, landing harmlessly against Thresh’s body.

Thresh’s arms were tight around you as you sunk into his body, feeling boneless with relief.

“I feared I would lose you to that demon,” Thresh spoke quietly. “I could do nothing, I–”

“You pulled me to safety. I wouldn’t call that nothing,” you replied against his chest.

“But you were hurt…” he protested.

“You sure know how to attract trouble,” came Ahri’s voice from behind you.

You turned around, still in Thresh’s arms as he refused to let you go. You watched as Ahri’s all-white form faded, replaced by her usual appearance.

“Ahri, thank you!” you exclaimed, doing your best to bow to her with Thresh’s arms still stubbornly wrapped around your waist.

“Well, I gave you that bell for a reason,” she replied. “I’m just glad I got here in time.”

“I owe you–”

“You owe me nothing,” she replied dismissively. “I was just repaying the debt that this world owes you for returning Thresh to us.”

“Still,” you protested. “You liked that inari sushi I brought before, I can bring you more next month!”

“No,” Ahri declined sternly. “I have something different I want from you… stay here.”

“Stay?” you echoed. “But my village…”

“Your village does not appreciate what they have,” Ahri argued. “I won’t allow you to return to those ingrates when you have people here who want you to stay.”

“What do you mean?” you asked.

Ahri smirked. “I’ve talked to the other spirits and they all agree. We would like to offer to make you one of us, but I’m afraid we require the consent of one more spirit… Thresh?”

You felt Thresh go rigid behind you. “I give my consent.”

“That was fast!” Ahri laughed. “But there you have it. Become one of us.”

“But the deal with my village…” you weakly disputed, despite your heart singing at the offer.

“The deal is over,” she answered. “We will not harm the village, but they will no longer be under our protection. They will find a way to coexist with the mountain, or they will die, but they must find their own way now.”

She was right, and both of you knew it. Why were you so determined to go back to a place that couldn’t care less if you lived or died. If you took her offer, then you could stay here with Thresh. It was all you wanted, but you were struggling to make that choice and be selfish for once in your life.

“You’ve lived for them for too long,” Ahri said. “It’s time that you lived for yourself.”

You took a deep breath as you stared at her outstretched hand. If you took her offer, then you would never return to your village again, but thinking about it now, that knowledge felt like a relief. You could live amongst people who actually cared about you, the happiness that realization brought almost indescribable. With one decision, you would sever ties with your former way of life, and you found yourself excitedly reaching out for Ahri’s hand, a satisfied skin on her face as her nails bit slightly against the skin of your palm.

A light surrounded your joined hands, followed by a gentle warmth on the back of your hand in the same spot that had held your mark of protection from Thresh. Pulling your hand back, you now found that it beheld a beautiful pink flower that seemed to glow supernaturally under the moonlight.

“It’s done,” Ahri announced happily. “You belong to this world now. And with your new level of power, the azakana will keep away.”

You looked behind her to the large azakana corpse that was still laid over the temple grounds, its upper half partially-submerged in the river that separated Thresh’s temple from the forest.

“Go ahead, touch its body,” Ahri instructed, sending a stern look Thresh’s way so he would finally let you out of his arms.

Ahri gave you a nod, smiling smugly as you took hesitant steps forward and coming to a stop before the lower section of the creature’s body. Looking quickly back to Ahri for confirmation, you reached out and quickly tapped the corpse with your fingers before pulling your hand back.

Instantly, the body began to disintegrate, a pink fire burning along both ends of its body until it was no more, your memories the only indication that it had ever been here at all.

“And that’s what will happen to any azakana that dares to touch you,” Ahri boasted. “Now, I think it’s time I left you two alone. We can save the introductions to the other spirits for another time.”

With a wink, she reverted to her fox form before darting across the bridge and into the trees. As you watched her go, you realized that the silver path wasn’t there anymore. This was it, you were finally free.

A soft call of your name had you turning back to Thresh, who was staring at you like you were the moon itself. You took slow steps towards him, quickly picking up your pace to sprint into his arms.

“I can stay!” you cried, wrapping your arms tightly around him. Pulling slightly back from the embrace, you looked up at him with a teasing grin. “Does this mean your tea will taste good again?”

You barely had a second’s warning before Thresh’s lips were on yours. You let out a surprised moan, eyes fluttering closed to enjoy the sensation.

While you didn’t mind Thresh’s demonic form, the gold jaw armor he wore was a different story as it cut into your skin. Pulling back to a kiss-dazed Thresh, you held up a hand to stop him from going in for another kiss, tapping the metal of his jaw mask.

“I had not realized… I have gotten so used to my mask that I forgot,” Thresh admitted.

“It’s fine,” you replied. “Let’s go back inside so you can shift into your other form and we can keep kissing.”

Thresh could not comply fast enough.

You had barely gotten inside before Thresh took you into his arms, leaving you scrambling to grab onto his vest to steady yourself.

“I would have never thought that I could keep you,” Thresh spoke warmly. “It was too much to hope that you would feel the same way as I do.”

“No, it wasn’t,” you countered as Thresh strolled to the back hall. “I didn’t want to go, but I felt like I had to. But Ahri is right, my place is here, with you.”

Thresh grinned happily as he stopped in front of a door halfway down the hallway; his room. You were filled with curiosity as he shifted you around in his arms so he could open the door. You had never even caught a glimpse of Thresh’s room, not wanting to invade his privacy, so this would be your first time seeing it.

The moment he stepped inside, the room lit up with a gentle purple-tinted glow from an assortment of small orbs on the ceiling. The room was not lavish by any means, a large bed sat in the center alongside a chest of drawers. On the wall was a mountainscape painting not unlike yours, but this one was darker, like a mountain at night, the painting dotted with small circles of light that reminded you of souls.

As Thresh placed you down on the futon, you noticed something on top of the drawers. “Is that… my fan?”

Atop the drawers sat a fan, decorated with flowers of varying purples that you had painted on yourself. That had been among the first gifts you had delivered, back seven months ago now.

You looked from the fan to Thresh, who looked back at you with fondness in his eyes. “In my isolation, the gifts were my only joy, yours more so than any I have received before.”

“Thresh…” You hadn’t thought you could like him any more, but seeing how he had taken such care of the gifts you had brought him made your heart warm all over again.

Thresh joined you on the futon, leaning down until his face was inches from your own.

“My dear human,” Thresh whispered, bringing a hand up to your cheek, thumb brushing over your bottom lip. “Would you allow me just one more indulgence?”

You leaned your face into his palm, part of you wanting to shy away, but the larger part of you wanting this so badly that you couldn’t bear to wait one more second. “Please.”

Thresh readily locked lips with you again, laying your body down on the futon and quickly covering you with his own body, all while refusing to break the kiss. You were quickly becoming overwhelmed by the intensity of his kisses, letting out a moan as his tongue finally brushed against your own.

You weren’t sure what to do with your hands, settling with pressing them against his bare chest. His long side bangs draped down over you, tickling the skin at the collar of your shirt, his sudden warmth making your long clothing feel suffocating.

“My clothes,” you panted, pulling back from the kiss. “Take them off.”

Thresh stared down at you, want in his eyes as he reached down to untie the knots that held your top together. However, it quickly became clear that Thresh was unused to the working of shirts, maybe due to not wearing one himself for so long, as the ties on your shirt seemed to mystify him.

“Just rip it off,” you whined, trying not to laugh at him or the cute look of intense focus on his face. “Now that I’m staying, it’s not like I need these robes anymore.”

Thresh’s eyes flashed, and with one quick motion, his nails split your shirt, skirt and underwear down the middle with a rip that was faster than your eyes could follow.

“…I apologize,” he said, cheeks pink. “Your words always seem to overpower my reason.”

Peeling away your now-ruined clothing, Thresh rested one hand on your breast, cupping it gently with his palm. His touch sent a visible shiver through your hypersensitive skin, your reaction giving Thresh the confidence to touch you more boldly, leaning down to get his mouth on your breasts.

You squirmed under him, his attention to your breasts sending pulses of heat to the apex of your thighs. Your wandering hand drifted up to take a gentle hold on the longer of his horns, Thresh letting out a deep groan against your breasts at the contact.

Raising your other hand to his smaller horn, Thresh was finally forced to pull back from your horns with a moan staring at you with eyes dark with lust as he panted.

“I fear I may lose all restraint if I continue to allow you to touch my horns,” Thresh admitted, sitting back and looking like some sort of demon of temptation under the soft lighting of the room. “I do not want to force anything upon you.”

“You aren’t,” you replied. “You’re the only one I’ve ever wanted like this. I don’t want to do this with anyone but you, Thresh.”

Thresh stared down at you for a moment before a grin took over his face. “I do not think I will ever keep a soul again. Nothing in this world compares to you, my love.”

Thresh’s loving gaze was making you feel shy, but he quickly distracted you by reaching a hand to his other biceps, pulling off his glove before tossing it to the side where your ripped clothes laid. His hook and lantern were set to the side with more care, quickly being joined by his vest to leave his upper half totally bare.

He normally wore an open vest, so his well-defined abdomen wasn’t a new sight for you, but somehow seeing his nude upper body now felt all new in this context. You watched, transfixed, as Thresh’s biceps bulged out slightly as he stood up to remove his belt to free his hakama pants to be removed next. How had you managed to worm your way into the heart of such a beautiful man? It was so hard to believe that you had gone from being a social pariah to laying here, about to experience an act so intimate that you had thought it would be forever out of your reach.

Thresh let his hakama pants fall to the ground, stepping out of them and kicking them gently to the side. Now fully naked, Thresh’s body was as exposed as yours, his cock so hard that it was pointed straight out in your direction. You shuddered with anticipation, the sight of the handsome spirit unclothed making you feel even more wet between your legs.

Thresh returned to you, settling above you, the tips of his ears as flushed with excitement as his cheeks were. “I do not think I will ever grow tired of seeing you like this.”

Thresh took hold of your legs, looking down at you, noting the want in your own face before he wrapped your legs around his sides, which brought your hips close together. With your bodies sufficiently close, Thresh took his cock in hand, lining himself up to close the final distance between your bodies as he began to slide effortlessly into you, the feeling making both of you moan.

Finding no resistance, Thresh was easily able to slide fully into you, the very tip of his cock settling against somewhere inside you that made your back arch.

“Nothing has ever felt like this,” Thresh choked out as he began to move, the feeling of his cock against your most sensitive spots sending your eyes fluttering closed as you gripped at the sheets under you. “I have never desired anything like I desire you, my little human.”

You tried your best to keep up with his pace, but it was all so much, each movement of his hips bringing you closer and closer to your end. Thresh was more than happy to make up for your hazy brain, keeping up his tempo, his desperate groans of your name sending your heartbeat soaring as you moaned his own back to him.

You were getting really, really close, each thrust Thresh made earning a cry from you as you opened your eyes, tugging his face down as you were overcome with the need to kiss him.

With Thresh even closer, his pelvis began to brush against your clit every time he sank back into you, the resulting increase in pleasure almost too much to take.

“Those humans will never get you back,” Thresh groaned possessively. “They will never see how beautiful you look like this.”

You wanted to reply, to say something, but you couldn’t find the words, clutching Thresh tightly as you came, eyes closing tight as his following thrusts allowed you to ride out the sensations until finally Thresh stilled as well.

Pulling himself gently out of you, he laid down next to you, pulling you to him. You happily snuggled against his chest, feeling tired, but more at peace than you had ever been.

“Thresh,” you whispered, getting a short hum in response. “What you said…”

“What you said earlier about Ahri being right,” came his reply. “This may be the first time I have agreed with her in a long while. Your people have forsaken quite a great treasure to me, one that will cost them so much.”

You pulled back from his chest, waiting for him to say more. It was embarrassing how addicted you were to his praise, but you couldn’t help yourself after so many years of neglect.

“Of course, if you ever wish to return–”

“I won’t,” you quickly denied.

Thresh grinned as he leaned in for another kiss. “Then we will enjoy our forever right here, my sweet little human.”

You had no complaints, closing your eyes as you kissed the man you loved, mentally thanking that thorned branch that had led to you finding the place where you belonged.

[anonquack]

| Take Care |

Alex Quackity x Reader, Oneshot!

Word Count: 3501

Warnings: None, a little bit angsty. This takes place in the past !! so technology is not necessarily available yk?

Summary: Being with Alex means sneaking out, it means risking getting caught, it means, lying to your parents.. but it's worth it in both of your eyes. After getting caught, you two must find a way to keep in touch and keep the relationship thriving.

You'd been staring out the window for what felt like hours now. Watching as the dark blues morphed into oranges and light blues. The idea of being able to see him soon kept you up the whole night. Last you'd seen him had been about 3 days ago, before he told you he'd be off at his grandparent's house, and wouldn't be back until the weekend.

That's why you watched the sunrise with such urgency. As soon as there was light outside, it meant he was back home. It meant seeing him again.

The bright light that slowly infiltrated your room brought a light sting to your eyes. Perhaps staying up late enough to see the sun rise wasn't the best idea, but there was no other way to calm your nerves.

As the sun found its place in the sky, and the sound of nearby roosters filled your ears, you couldn't help but feel tingles throughout your whole body. The clock was ticking, and it was ticking fast. You'd get to see him before you knew it.

Once you deemed it a reasonable time to be out of bed, you got up and headed to the kitchen in search of something to eat. Something to truly help get the day started.

The food you served yourself wasn't even properly enjoyed, far too focused on what you'd wear once you headed back up to your room. How you'd dress yourself in preparation for seeing him again after what felt like an eternity.

After breakfast and a quick look through your closet, you found yourself patting and dusting yourself off to ensure you looked presentable, pleasant to the eye. One look in the mirror and you deemed yourself ready to head out and towards where you and Alex usually met.

On your way to the front door, a loud voice demanded your attention, asking where you were off to in such a hurry. You excused yourself, telling them you were on your way to meet a friend. And yes, you'd eaten breakfast already. After a quick nod of approval, you were on your way out of the house.

-

You didn't think you'd ever speed walked somewhere as fast as you'd done just now. Urgency in each of your steps, eagerness pouring out of you with each exhale.

But the tree was empty. He was nowhere in sight. Perhaps you'd gotten here too fast, eagerness leading to you being too early. That made sense.

Taking a seat on the grass, you waited patiently to see if he'd show up. Of course he would. Meeting up at this tree had become your thing. If he ever needed to find you, he'd find you here. Vice versa.

It didn't take long before he appeared before you, in all his glory. Your eyes scanned him shamelessly. You'd missed the sight of him. And it had only been three days.

Clean slacks, suspenders resting nicely on top of his white button-up shirt. The three buttons left undone at the top allowed his collarbones to be on display, even if just a little. It also exposed his honey-like skin to the world. And his shoes, slightly dirty from the dirt path he'd taken to get to where you two found yourselves now.

Truly a sight to behold. You stood to your feet, smile growing instantly. He smiled back before you found yourself engulfed by his arms, head tucked neatly under his chin.

"How was the visit?" You finally asked after minutes of staying in the embrace. He began to tell you, later slipping into different conversation.

"I missed you." He mumbled into your hair, to which you responded by nuzzling your face into his chest.

He was leaning against the tree with you placed between his legs, back resting on his chest. His fingers moved slowly against your hair, and you worried sleep would finally catch up with you after staying up all night.

"How'd you manage to come out here?" He asked, sending a smile your way and breaking you out of the relaxing trance his fingers had left you in.

You couldn't help but smile back before shrugging slightly. "Just told them I had to meet with a friend."

"Lying to your parents, hm?" He raised an eyebrow, making a small 'tch' sound and shaking his head. "What if they find out?"

Your body visibly stiffened at that. "They won't, unless you tell them." You carefully positioned yourself so you were sitting facing him now. Perhaps your tone came out more serious than you'd intended, considering the conflicted look that now rested on his face.

"Why can't we just tell them we're together?" His tone was telling of how he felt. Exasperated, tired of hiding. You wanted to laugh at how insane the idea sounded, but his face told you it wouldn't be appropriate. He was serious.

"You know how they'll get." You stated softly, reaching for his hands and gently beginning to play with his fingers.

He bit the inside of his cheek, not moving his hand away, but clearly still upset.

You hated this as much as he did. Having to sneak around just to see him, lying to your parents about your whereabouts, it was all so tiresome. But it was necessary.

Your parents had freaked out at the idea of you two even being FRIENDS. You imagined they'd die of a heart attack or send you off if they ever found out.

Once you two had clearly understood that your parents weren't fond of it, he offered to meet at his place instead.

Turns out his parents weren't very fond of you either, and you never went back. It simply wasn't working out, but neither of you were willing to put an end to the relationship.

And that's how you ended up here. Lying to parents, meeting up at a tree, hands entangled and gentle whispers of the near future where you'd be able to be together, without any worries.

Even if seeing his pouty face broke your heart, you knew you couldn't tell your parents, or vice versa. It wouldn't end your problems, but rather create more. He didn't seem to understand that though, and it led to these conversations every single time.

"Soon." You stated firmly, hands moving to cup his face and leave a small kiss on his cheek. "I promise."

-

Although the reality that your relationship was forbidden hung over your heads daily, you both still tried to enjoy your time together as best as you could. And yes, that meant dates.

He'd come up with the idea of painting together, and you couldn't really refuse after seeing how proud of himself he was. He'd suggested you two meet by the tree with paint supplies and some extra cash for an ice cream cone or a snack after. It seemed perfect.

When the day came, you found yourself seated by him with your fresh canvas and the small containers of paint located beside you two, small brushes ready to do as your hand commanded.

The paintings had started off fairly well, him drawing what seemed like a street in town with people passing by and a pretty sky on display.

"Is that where we got our ice cream?" You asked curiously as you stared at his painting. It felt oddly familiar and warm. It amazed you how well his art was able to portray and give off such emotions.

He smiled and nodded. "That street is really pretty, so colorful." He explained, setting his brush down momentarily. "Plus, I have a lot of good memories there."

You smiled back, "Me too. It looks so pretty, Alex." You reached over to gently squish his cheek, which only made him let out a laugh before he began to question you about your own art.

After some time, both paintings were set aside to dry and you two were left with one blank canvas and an abundance of red paint. It'd been the least used in both of your creations.

You both looked at each other, and you instantly recognized that mischievous look in his eyes. "What‐?" You asked, to which he only smirked before pointing at the canvas.

"Well, we wouldn't want the canvas to go to waste.. right?" He received no response beside your wary stare. "How about we paint our hands red and put them on there? Wouldn't that be cute? We could add our little signatures on it as well."

The idea was extremely incriminating. Red paint. A canvas that had BOTH of your names on it? It was never a good idea. But he had his ways of getting others to say yes.

"If you're worried about getting caught, we can wash our hands really good to get it off. And one of us can hide the canvas in our rooms." He was so convincing, and he looked so so cute.

"Fine. But we can't wait around too long or else the paint will dry! So let's hurry." You finally responded, to which he let out a celebratory yell before coming closer and grabbing the red paint and pouring it onto his hand carefully. You did the same, and soon both of your hands were plastered onto the canvas.

It was cute, just like he'd said, and it was even cuter once he'd lazily written his name and yours under the handprints. You couldn't help but stare as he focused on adding a small little heart between the two handprints, his tongue sticking out in concentration.

Once he was done, he sat up properly and shot you a smile, to which you responded by impulsively pulling him in close for a kiss. He responded almost immediately, arms carefully wrapping around your waist as to not leave paint on your clothes. You'd done the same once you gently wrapped your arms around his neck to deepen the kiss.

Every single date you two went on only solidified your feelings for him, and made them so much stronger. He was lovely, full of ideas, and so kind. He was perfect, but your parents would never see that. You pulled away from the kiss, only for him to pull you back in after letting you both breathe. No complaints from your part.

But definitely from your parents. You both heard a loud gasp, which had you pulling away from him within seconds. To your demise, your parents were both stood a few feet away with shock and disappointment plastered on their faces.

You both stumbled onto your feet, the words failing to leave your mouth as you tried to explain what they'd just witnessed. You felt lightheaded. How was any of this real?

"You know, the neighbor told me you'd been snooping around with a nobody, but I never took them seriously. I trusted you knew better." They spat angrily.

It suddenly made sense. The stares from the neighbor everytime you left the house and sneakily made your way to the tree. Or when he'd 'carefully' come drop you off at your house after being out all day, hidden by the night sky. Or so you two thought.

You felt numb, unable to create any sort of excuse as to why you were with him. Saying you two were friends wouldn't work, considering they'd walked in on you two kissing. And the canvas that lay between you two with handprints, signatures and hearts. There was no fixing this.

"We were going to tell you, but we knew you wouldn't approve." You finally mustered up, voice trembling in fear of the consequences. Alex was frozen in shock as well beside you.

"You've completely lost my trust." One of them said, shaking their head before looking directly at you, as if giving him a single glance would kill them. "I don't want you near this young man again, do you hear me?"

He looked hurt, but most of all he looked angry. Angry that they wouldn't just let you two be. Who were you hurting by being together?

"Not as long as they live under my roof. Now let's go." They stated just as firmly, a strong grip on your wrist and pulling you towards home, daring him and you to deceive either of them. You two were fighting a losing battle.

"They have every right to make their own decisions." He tried to state firmly, but the slight tremble in his voice was too noticeable.

"Wait. At least let me say goodbye." You pleaded, knowing they wouldn't hesitate to send you away as soon as you got home.

They let go of your wrist and you made your way over to him. You couldn't help it as the tears began to well up in your eyes. This was exactly what you feared, and it had come true.

"I guess we got caught.. red-handed." He stated after a moment of silence. His comment took you by surprise, and you couldn't help but laugh at his ability to crack a joke no matter the situation.

The tears that were threatening to spill from his eyes became more noticeable the closer you got, frown etched onto his beautiful face. Unacceptable, really.

Your eyes fell down to both of your hands that had red splotches all over them, along with the accidental red drops all over some of your clothing. "I guess we did." You finally responded. Red hand reaching for his. "I love you so much, okay? This isn't the last you're seeing of me."

"I wouldn't allow that anyway. I'm not giving up on you." He whispered back, knowing there was curious ears nearby. It was a promise neither of you would break.

Even if you were getting pulled away after too long of a goodbye. Even if the canvases were left forgotten on the grass to dry. Even if it was prohibited.

No matter what.

-

It had gone just as you thought. You were prohibited of meeting with him, and stripped from multiple other privileges. It made no sense why they cared so much, but they did.

A promise was a promise though, and you'd managed to sneak out a few times to see him during the first few months. Each second of the meeting was bittersweet, a reminder that the moment would end sooner than later constantly there. On edge of who was nearby or if anyone had spotted you two. Horrible.

After a few of those, they'd gotten stricter, and it was harder to leave the house. It led to you resorting to writing letters. It was the only other form of communication. The house phone was an absolute no, far too risky. So you often found yourself in your room, writing letters to him about missing him and how it didn't feel the same without him around.

Everytime the mail came, you were the first to receive it. Looking for any letters from him. Taking it before any curious eyes could notice your eagerness to check the mail.

Your days were spent in bed, reading and re-reading the letters he had sent. Waiting for the next to come in the mail. It made you yearn for his company, his touch, him. The days passed with only letters from him and your own memory to remind you what he was like.

It was painful being away from him, and you couldn't really remember exactly how long it'd been since you last saw him, but one thing kept you sane. Kept you from losing faith of seeing him again. It was the promise you two had made the night your parents found out.

He wasn't going to give up on you, and you surely wouldn't give up on him either. Even if it'd been months since you last saw him. Many repetitive months of writing letters, busting missions just to get to them before your parents did, and spending your time daydreaming about him.

It would all work out in the end. It had to. You'd both make it work.

No matter what.

-

You really didn't know how long it'd been at this point, since you'd last seen him. But you knew exactly when the letters stopped coming.

It'd been exactly 6 weeks and 4 days since the last letter of his came in the mail. You'd sent one back not too long after, but he hadn't returned one to this day. Usually his letters came 3 days later, the latest.

You couldn't help it whenever your mind wandered to the possibilities of why the letters stopped coming. Every sick idea that entered your mind seemed possible. It'd been far too long since you'd last seen him.

You had no way of knowing if he was healthy and thriving, if he'd gotten sick recently, or if his parents had found out about the letters. Even worse, if he had moved on by now.

It made you sick to your stomach just thinking of it all. Had you done something to upset him? Maybe you were bitching too much in your letters and he'd grown tired of you. Maybe the tone of your words were far too longing for him.

You had no way of knowing. No way of confirming your thoughts.

No matter how many weeks passed, you desperately clung onto the hope that a letter would come. Surely, eventually, and it would explain his absence. It would come if you believed hard enough.

But 6 weeks became 10, and then it became 15. 15 weeks without him, without any response. No knowledge of his whereabouts or well-being.

"What about the promise we made each other?" Is something you'd asked yourself frequently over the last 15 weeks, but no answer. At least not one you wanted to hear or even acknowledge.

You sat at your desk now, fresh sheet of paper ready next to your pen. You couldn't keep living like this. In suspense and longing.

The guilt was eating at you as you wrote 'Dear Alex,' onto the page, but the reminder that he was the one that hadn't written back helped ease the growing pain in your chest.

He hadn't kept his promise. He'd broken it after 15 weeks of not responding. You'd waited around for so long, but who knows if he'd moved on and left you behind, or whatever else could've happened.

Your hand froze, gently biting at the inside of your cheek, too scared to truly put an end to this. But it was necessary. It's what you needed in order to be able to breathe properly again, to sleep well at night, to stop the ache in your chest.

The times you'd been out in town with your parents, there was no sight of him. You'd visited the tree a few times since the last letter came in, and nothing.

You had to let him go, just as he had let you go.

'I don't know what happened to cause you to stop writing to me, but I've had enough time to speculate and overthink the answer to that.'

You paused. If this would be the last letter you wrote to him, you didn't want it to sound so bitter. You still loved him, and he was your first love. You could never truly hate him. But you had to let go. How to convey that in a single letter?

'I can only hope that you're holding up alright. I've missed you dearly since the last letter you wrote to me, and I hope you know that I truly do love you. Far too much for my heart to handle.'

'Which is why this is the last letter I'll be sending you. For my wellbeing, for my mental health. I can't sit here and worry for you every single day. I tried waiting around for you, but it seems you've given up on me before I could even think of giving up on you.'

'I will keep the memories we made in my heart and mind always, and I hope your memory of me is fond, and that you loved me as much as I loved you.'

'Thank you so much for making these the most wonderful years of my life. I'll forever remember you fondly. I wish you the best in life and in health.'

You paused. Was this enough? You didn't want to overwhelm him, if he even did end up reading your letter. One last look through the letter and you let out a small sigh. This was it. You just had to sign it, package it nicely into its envelope, and send it off to him.

In hopes that he'd receive it, read it, and that it would bring peace to your heart. Even if it meant not knowing of him anymore. You could only hope.

You wiped your eyes, a small smile on your face, a hushed "Thank you" escaping your lips as you finally signed near the end of the page,

'Take Care' .

[wavesmp3]

[ksw] clouds

sunwoo x reader

wc. 5k warnings: medical inaccuracies, death, illness, hospitals, overall just a pretty heavy piece genre can only be described as an absolute mess inspired mainly by san junipero but also slightly by charlie kaufman and wong kar wai

a/n: this is supposed to be told nonlinearly but like the creation of it was very messy so i have no clue if it actually worked, so good luck trying to make this piece make sense of this :) 

act iii. scene iii.

Sunwoo sits and watches the sun shift from pink and blue to an impossible shade of green. And it’s then he knows that without a doubt Clara has ruined the color green for him. Because instead of marveling at the color of the sky, Sunwoo is reminded of the doors in her apartment building.

“Thought I might find you here.” The voice of a stranger who Sunwoo loved once upon a time says behind him. He tries like hell not to turn around. Not to lean back towards the voice and wait for your hand on his shoulder or your shin knocking familiarly against his back. He focuses on the waves crashing below instead. The roar of the water beneath him is deafening, but only if you let it be. He does, and he almost forgets that you’re behind him.

“Where’d you go?” You ask, now sitting next to him, tugging at the long grass. 

“I’m right here.”

“And what about in there?” You bring a finger up and poke at the side of his forehead. 

He turns to you, facing you in full. He takes in your features like it’s the first time all over again. And, oh, he wishes he knew before how many firsts you already had together. This is just another. This is just the first time he’s seen you in the past six months and remembered the thousands of times he’s seen your face before. 

He studied your cheeks. The one he now recalls running the back of his palm over after you left for the Cloud. 

He memorizes, for the millionth time, your eyes. He used to swear they were darker than they are, but then he saw them in the sun. He was dying back then; then he saw your eyes and you saved him. Just like that. 

Mr. Choi was right of course. As he always must be. You and him are like an old married couple. Not like. You are. Almost were. 

“I had lunch with Mr. Choi today.” He tells you. 

You squint at him. “I know. It’s Thursday.” You pull out a piece of the grass. “What’d he make?”

“Ramen.”

“Was it good?”

“It was okay.”

“Too spicy?”

Suwnoo answers with a sigh, looking away from you and back towards the water. The deafening waves crash against the cliffside. “I know you looked at your file.” He finally says. You stop pulling at the grass. You still. “Mr. Choi told me.”

After he says it, there’s a silence that isn’t actually silent at all. The waves rage below his feet. The seagulls are there too, beneath, above, somewhere, everywhere. And then, of course, there’s you and Sunwoo, trying to be silent over the static in your heads and the machines you’re hooked up to in a universe far far away. 

“Did he tell you about my file?”

He looks at you again. “No.”

“Oh.” You look away, brows furrowed, lick your lips, and then turn back to him. “So why are you upset?”

“After he told me, I went and I…”

“You didn’t.”

“I looked at mine.”

There’s another silence, except that this time it really is quiet. Sunwoo read once whilst in a rabbit hole of medical research that true silence only happens in a vacuum, where there is no medium for sound waves to travel through. This must be that. This place, the files, Mr. Choi and Mr. Chan, Clara and her apartment building full of green doors--it’s a vacuum. And they stick people in it then call it the Cloud. They call it extra time. But it isn’t. It’s nothing and he’s stuck in the middle of it. So Sunwo stares at you, straight through the vacuum of time and space you’re both lost in, waits for you to say something, and then waits for himself to hear it. 

“You looked?” You finally say, voice folding in on itself. 

“Yes.” Sunwoo’s own voice is barely there. You must be reading his lips which you’ve always been good at anyways. 

“So you know now?” 

“I always knew, and now, I remember.”

act i. scene iv.

There’s been an accident. 

That’s what they say when the sun falls out of the sky and the world starts spinning in the wrong direction. It’s how they show up at Sunwoo’s door painted in shades of blue and red, with authority in their arms and hands on their hips. How they prepare him for the looming moment where they rip past his skin, blood, bone to shoot a gun straight at his heart. I’m so sorry for your loss, they say leaving him with a bullet lodged somewhere between his left and right atrium. 

And those are the four words that play over and over and over in Sunwoo’s head as he gets to the hospital. Those are the words that crawl inside his open chest and turn him blue and black with infection. There’s been an accident, he remembers, staring at the extraordinary measures taken to keep your heart beating and lungs beating. This is it. Except that the accident isn’t that you’re dying, but that you’re dying. It’s always supposed to have been him. He’s supposed to be the one stuffed with tubes and hooked up to monitors, the one whose life is hanging on by a thread, and you’re supposed to be the one that saves him. It all feels like a play that’s gone horribly wrong because everyone switched parts after intermission without telling him. At what point did you steal the role of dying protagonist from him? 

We did everything we could, a stranger in a white coat says. Except that it’s not some stranger, it’s your colleague and co-worker because this is the hospital you work at and the hospital Sunwoo met you in. There was too much damage to the brain, they explain as the image of their tear-stricken face goes from your friend during intern year to the doctor who operated on you as your brain went dead. 

“We have two options, right?” Sunwoo is far too familiar with surgery and all this. He knows from his hospital days what’s supposed to happen next. But apparently, things have changed since then. 

“Actually, there’s a third option.”

Sunwoo doesn’t waste a second. He jumps out of the chair stained red from his bleeding heart and asks: “What is it?”

“We can upload them.”

act iii. scene ii.

In fifty days of living in the cloud, Sunwoo has learned all about the people that he shares a building with. There’s Mr. Chan who lives behind a vomit green on the same floor as him and who hasn’t left his room since last January. There’s also Mr. Choi, who lives behind the emerald door and invites Suwoo over for lunch every Thursday. Clara lives upstairs, where the walls are painted in various shades of green--olive, seaweed, moss, hunter, shamrock, sage, and others that Sunwoo tries not to think too deeply about. He’s only met Clara once in the past fifty days and has no particular wish to see her again. He hadn’t expected her to be a kid. Cancer, you told him after their introduction in the lobby, poor girl was only seven. As said before, Sunwoo tries not to think about it. 

And then of course there’s you behind the forest green door who has been slowly showing him all the good places. There’s the beach where you spent the day making seashell necklaces. The  cafe which serves its tea too sweet for him, but sweet enough to be considered your favorite. Sunwoo just gets the chocolate bread. You took him downtown. To a club. The tallest building. And to midtown where the amusement park is. 

But his favorite place you’ve taken him so far is the cliffside above the beach, where the waves crash against the rocks in a way that can only be described as violent. That day you and him laid in the grass and stared at the clouds with your heads dangling just over the edge and water spraying the backs of your necks. That day you turned to him and told him you’re sorry. For what, he asked. I’m so sorry you’re sick, you said, but it’s nice to have you around here. I think in a sense, we’ve both been waiting for this. Then, you smiled and stole all of the blood from his body. So yeah, that day, that place--it’s his favorite. 

Today, you take him on a hike up a mountain. 

“Do you believe in an afterlife?” You ask him after having spent thirty minutes silently staring at the view from the best peak. 

“One after this?”

“Yeah. I guess. Although, I’m not so convinced this counts.”

“I don’t know.” Sunwoo shrugs. “Maybe.”

“Do you think we’d be able to be with our loved ones in it?”

His chest lurches. “If there is one, yes.”

“Do you think it’ll be different than this?”

Sunwoo turns to you finally. “Why are you asking about this?”

You shake your head. “Nevermind. It’s a stupid question.”

He turns back towards the view. From here, he can make out Clara’s building. He thinks about her, about Mr. Choi and Mr. Chan, who he recently found out were once married but who haven’t spoken since Mr. Chan read his file in January, and he thinks about you and about him. 

“I think,” Sunwoo says, loud enough so that you can hear after wandering a little bit away from him, “that whatever the afterlife is, if it does exist, it’ll be worth it.”

You turn to him, but don’t make any move to come near him again. “And if it doesn’t exist?”

“Then life will have been worth it.”

The corner of your lip lifts. “I like that.”

Sunwoo only nods at the sentiment, and after a long while, he builds enough courage to ask, “you’ve been here a really long time, haven’t you?”

“Time doesn't work as linearly in the cloud as it does in the real world. Sometimes it feels like I got here and then you arrived the very next day.” You turn back towards the view and exhale heavily. 

“But yes. I’ve been here for an eternity.”

act ii. scene i.

Before he actually sees you, Sunwoo feels you. Not you, in particular, but something in the distance, a presence in the corner of the room and a pair of eyes watching him from somewhere far away. 

The scariest part is how much the feeling doesn’t actually scare him. 

--

Two days after that, he starts to see you in the flesh. He tells himself that his mind is playing tricks on him, that the person he saw in the produce aisle wasn’t actually you at all and was just a stranger with the same hair. 

He doesn’t go straight home from the store that day. Instead, he stops by the hospital and checks in on you, but even that doesn’t do anything about the fact that he sees a shadow of you behind the bed.

--

The day after that, you speak to him. Standing in the middle of his kitchen in broad daylight, you speak, you say hello, and the first thing Sunwoo thinks is that he’s dead. 

You aren’t, you reply. You’re a zombie, he reasons, here for my brain. I’m not. A ghost. No. Are you, here Sunwoo falters, fear flooding out of his body to make room for the briefest blotch of hope that’s crushed almost immediately by you saying: I’m not alive, Sunwoo. You saw me in the hospital yesterday. 

“So then,” he swallows, “what are you?”

I’m here. You look at him, stare at his face and without a sliver of doubt say, I’m here for you. 

Sunwoo knows it’s impossible. You can’t be here. You can’t. And yet, you are. 

Three years ago Sunwoo was told he had three months left to live, and he still remembers how impossibly you saved him from the brink of death. He remembers how impossible things happen all the time, and how impossibly possible it is that this is one of them. He steps towards you, touches your face, and feels the real, impossible thing against his hand. 

“You’re here.”

--

On the fifth day of your haunting, Sunwoo finally has the sense to ask why. 

Why what?

“Why are you here?”

I’m here for you.

“Stop saying that.”

But I am, you tell him. You asked, and that’s the answer. I’m a doctor, Sunwoo. I’m here for you. 

Then, finally, he hears what you’ve been saying for the past five days. You’re here for him. 

And the thing about doctors is that they’re there for you when you need them. 

“I’m sick.” 

Yes, you answer quietly, although it wasn’t a question. 

“Again.” 

I’m so sorry. 

“You’re a hallucination, aren’t you?” Sunwoo’s shocked by how sad that makes him, how disappointing it is. “I’ve been hallucinating.”

Find me in the Cloud, Sunwoo. There’s something I want to say. 

You’re gone by the time he gets to the hospital. 

act iii. scene i.

Sunwoo stares at the hall of green doors, eyes darting from door to door in an attempt to stare down the shades until they confess which one of them is tea green.

“Clara, the landlord, likes colors.” A voice says from behind him. “Every couple of months she repaints all of the doors in different shades of the same one. Before the green, it was yellow.” 

Sunwoo turns around to face you. When your eyes find him, they go blank for the smallest of moments. You give him a look that goes right through him, turning him inside out like you’ve seen the underside of his skin. It irks him. 

“I’m Sunwoo. I’m new.”

You gulp. “You’re here.” He doesn’t know what to make of the statement. Do all people in the cloud act like this? “Why?”

Sunwoo nods, maybe you’re not so weird as much as you just have a weird way of posing questions. “I was told I’m sick.”

“I’m sorry.” You say, frowning like you actually might feel back for him. 

“Have you been here a while then?” You nod. “Can I ask how long?” You shake your head. Sunwoo doesn’t think too much about it. Instead, he returns your earlier question “Why are you here?”

“Brain dead.”

“I’m sorry.”

You ignore it and point to a door down the hall. “I’m forest green. You?”

“Tea green. But I can’t find-” 

You tap the door in front of him. “This one, genius.”

“Oh.” He laughs awkwardly. “Thanks.”

Your mouth parts as if to say something, and your face goes blank again. He feels his skin turning itself inside out because of it. “Have you read your file yet?”

He shakes his head. “I just got here.”

You inhale, softening, and mutter an ‘okay’. You continue down the hall towards your door. Sunwoo is stuck in place. “I can show you around here, if you like. Take you to all the cool places.”

Sunwoo takes you up on it.

A forest green door slams shut down the hallway. 

act i. scene ii.

“Thank you for taking me out of the hospital.” Sunwoo says, exhaling. “I can’t remember the last time I’ve been to a park like this.” 

And it’s true, he really can’t. He’s been sick for so long now, and has been through a multitude of treatment plans and too many surgeries. When you’re sick and have 9 surgeons turn you down after asking them to save your life, you forget the joy of being outside and feeling the sun on your skin. You were the first doctor to agree to the surgery. You’re the only doctor to have ever treated Sunwoo like he wasn’t dying, like he was actually going to live.

“You don’t have to thank me. This is good for me too.” You say, head resting against the park bench and eyes closed. 

Sunwoo inhales, taking in the park with all his senses. A visceral sort of thing you learn to do as often as possible when you’ve been as close to death as frequently as he has. He feels the wood beneath his body and the grass beneath his feet. He feels the light on his skin and the wind pushing against his arms and nose. He listens to the kids screaming at the playground at the bottom of the hill and to the dogs barking within the dog park beside it. He takes all this in, relishes in it for the last time as a dying person. 

You sigh. “One more surgery.” 

“And then I’ll be done with this sickness.” 

You smile. He pretends not to see. “And then you’ll be done.” 

“Thank you for saving my life.”

“Don’t do that.”

“No. Seriously.” 

You smile again, this time at him. Sunwoo doesn’t have to pretend not to see. “I haven’t finished saving it yet.”

He leans back against the bench and closes his eyes. “But you will.” 

You tap on your coffee cup. “Honestly though, you did more work than me.” Sunwoo frowns while you take a sip. “The other nine doctors you called are good doctors, and they made the same judgement call I would have made for any other patient. No sane doctor would have agreed to treat you. But you were the reason I said yes. You had such faith that you were going to live and so much faith that I could do it that I believed you. I might be the one doing the technical saving, but you, Sunwoo, you’re the one who convinced me to do it. You saved yourself.”

He stares at you. The light hits your eyes like it’s finding a way to break through them. In truth, before Sunwoo got sick, he didn’t think he was scared of death, but he is. He’s terrified of it. Sunwoo realized it two weeks after his diagnosis and the day after he was wrongly told he only had three more months left to live. But now, for the first time since he was diagnosed, he doesn't feel so afraid of it. Despite how far he’s come and how close he is to beating this fucking illness, while staring at the light woven through your eyes, Sunwoo thinks he could live with himself if he dropped dead tonight. 

That thought alone, is almost as terrifying as death used to be. 

act iii. scene v.

“I saw your ghost, you know.” It’s the first thing Sunwoo has said to you in over two weeks. “It wasn’t actually you though, was it?” You don’t even bother looking up from your cup of tea. Through the silence, Sunwoo orders a coffee. 

“I didn’t know that.” The coffee turns lukewarm. “It wasn’t me.” You push an uneaten half of chocolate bread towards him. “It’s in your brain this time. Symptoms can include hallucinations.”

“Think you can still save me?” You can’t. If you know that much, you know he’s out of medical miracles, and that this time, he really won’t survive it. But it’s a joke. And you laugh at it.

“Definitely not. I never really liked neurosurgery.”

And all at once, he’s painfully aware of your friend somewhere in the real world that does like it but watched anyways as your brain died before her, split wide open. 

“Anyways, how do you know all of this?” But what Sunwoo really wants to say is brains are killer. Literally. Figuratively. 

“I’ve known since we...“ you hesitate, mouth stuck halfway through a word he can’t place. “After last time, I read your chart and looked at your scans.” Sunwoo nods. He expected as much. He doesn’t ask how you got them. “I’m sorry you're sick again.” You say to him quietly. “I’m sorry you’re dying.”

“I’m sorry you’re dead.” As soon as the words have left his mouth, he regrets them. Because you aren’t. And he knows you too well to think you’d look past the technicality. 

You scoff, shake your head slightly, and with a spiteful smile say, “Can I say it?”

Sunwoo only sighs. “Let’s start over instead.” 

You nod. He pushes the chocolate bread back. 

act iii. scene iv.

Mr. Choi was the one to recommend that Sunwoo give you and himself space. It’s been a month since you and him last spoke, since that moment hovering above the waves after he read his file and after he found out you read yours. He misses you, and has been for so long now. Mr. Choi was wrong. Sunwoo’s standing outside your forest green door to prove it. 

You open the door before he can knock. There’s no shock in your voice when you say his name, like you’ve been waiting for this day, expecting it. 

He looks behind you, at your apartment in Clara’s building that looks just like your apartment in the real world. The same one he cleaned out after you died, still filled with things he gave to your family or donated or took back to his place. He wants to crumble just looking at it again. “Can I come in?”

“It’s only been a month.”

And he knows what you mean by it. Three months is the recommended time off after reading one’s file. To reacclimate, they say, to process. But the insinuation that Sunwoo was supposed to go three months without seeing you makes him feel sick. The insinuation that after a year of being without you in the real world he was supposed to be without you here too, enrages him. Then he remembers how long you’ve been here, and how long you’ve been doing this and feels slightly murderous.

All he says is: “It’s been a lot longer than that for you.”

Your lip twitches. You lock and unlock the open forest green door five times before saying, “Are you sure?”

He nods. You let him in. 

Sunwoo used to imagine what it would be like to meet you again in the Cloud one day. He imagined tears and hugs and kisses. He imagined i love you’s and i hate you’s and i miss you. He imagined the scenario more times than can possibly be considered healthy. But he imagined something. He was waiting for the day. Waiting for this day. But this moment, sitting at your round wood table while you boil water for tea, is nothing like the million different ways he imagined seeing you again. 

And as you set down two mismatched mugs and take the seat across from him, he doesn’t even try to create one of them. “How long has it been since you read your file?”

You watch the steam rise from your tea for a long moment, then stand, grab the sugar and pour a spoonful of it into your tea. You take another spoonful and look at him expectantly. “Want some?” He nods, and you pour the sugar into his. You stir the tea then taste, then cringe, then add more sugar and then ask if he wants it. He refuses. You stir again. Sunwoo watches the whirlpool and waits the eternity it takes you to say: “I read it on my first day.”  

You put the sugar away, satisfied with the tea’s sweetness while Sunwoo marvels at how long you’ve known and how silently you’ve been carrying the knowledge of you and him since he came. And that knowledge is what makes him finally remember one of the reasons he came. “Is there something you want to tell me?” You look up at him when he asks it, exhaling like you’ve been wanting to bring it up for so long now, which Sunwoo guesses isn’t as much of a simile as he thinks it is. 

“Yes, actually. I…” you hesitate, flicking the mug as if the right words will come hopping out of the tea. Sunwoo watches for it. “I’ve just been here for a long time now, Sunwoo.”

“Two years isn’t that long.”

“Time doesn’t work the same here as it does down there.” You tell him tiredly. “It’s been decades.”

He doesn’t say anything.

“In the beginning, I didn’t mind the waiting. I knew you were on your way, but I just,” you hesitate, “I didn’t think it’d take so long for you to come back to me.” 

Sunwoo covers your hand with his. “I’m sorry.” You twist your palm into it, squeeze, then pull your hand away. Sunwoo swallows. “I came as fast as I could.”

“I know. I waited.”

“Do you regret it?” Sunwoo’s terrified of what the answer might be.

You don’t give it. “That’s not what I meant.” 

“Then?”

“I’ve been here for so long, and,” your head drops, voice breaking under the weight it carries, “it’s been so lonely.”

“But I’m here now.” Sunwoo says, leaning forward against the table. “You aren’t alone anymore.”

“I know you’re here. I know, and I thought that would fix it, but it didn’t. Seeing you in the hall that day was so bittersweet, because you were here but that also meant you were somewhere else dying. Because you were here and I still felt lonely.” You stop, chugg the remaining bits of your tea, and then wipe your cheeks. “Do you get what I’m saying?”

“No.” But it’s a lie. He does get it. He knows all about loneliness and the way it creeps inside, so slyly. The way it starts small and then grows, feeding on negligence, until it's too big for your body. He knows how it sits inside you, for all its enormity, and spills into everything. He knows how it lingers. How it has nothing to do with people or lack of them and everything to do with grief. Sunwoo knows all about loneliness. The day he read his file he felt a dam of it burst open within him. 

“I’m saying that in the real world I saved you, and now it’s your turn to save me.” You gulp. “I’m saying that I want you to unplug me.”

It takes a moment for Sunwoo to even register what you’ve said, but when he does remember the life support that’s keeping your body alive somewhere in a universe far away, he doesn’t say anything. He just stands and walks out of your apartment. 

act i. scene iii.

“Doctor, please present.” The attending announces, stepping into Sunwoo’s room for rounds. 

“Mr. Kim,” a resident starts, flipping open his chart, “was diagnosed 14 months ago and has gone through several different treatment plans. When he came to us, the illness had spread and was deemed inoperable and untreatable by several other physicians. Our treatment plan was aggressive and grueling but ultimately, effective. Sunwoo is 20 days post op from his third and final surgery. The surgery went extremely well with no complications and his vitals were excellent. He has been a model patient all throughout recovery, and according to our latest scans, he is also now illness free…”

Sunwoo doesn’t even bother listening to the rest. 

--

“So, now that I’m no longer a patient, if I ask you out on a date, will you actually say yes?” 

“Well,” you say, signing his discharge papers, “only one way to know.”

“What is it?”

You look up at him, smiling. “Ask me again.”

He does. 

You say yes. 

act iii. scene v. take ii. 

“I saw your ghost.” The first thing Sunwoo says after the last failed attempt.

You look up from your tea. “It wasn’t me.” 

“I know.” Sunwoo orders another coffee. “But the hallucination was how I knew I was sick again. It made me feel like you were trying to warn me, like you were up here somewhere caring from a distance. Right after I pieced it all together you told me to find you here and that there was something you wanted to say.” The coffee turns lukewarm again. Sunwoo can’t bring himself to say it. You sigh and push the same piece of chocolate bread back towards him. This time, he takes a bite from it. And with a mouthful of chocolate bread, he cries, “I just got you back, and now you want to leave all over again.”

You frown. “I didn’t want to leave the first time, and it’s different now.”

“How?”

“I want to go. Isn’t that worth something?”

“And what about what I want?”

“Oh, Sunwoo,” you say, “I’m sorry you’re sick. The hallucination was you and your head, but for what it’s worth, I have been up here caring from a distance. I still…” you don’t need to say the words. He knows. He never had to doubt it. “I never stopped.”

“I’ve been thinking about what you asked of me.” Sunwoo tells you. He made the decision last week but today, right now, with your confession still falling through the air, is the first time he’s had the stomach to swallow it. “And I’ll do it. I will. I just need some time. You’ve had so long and in comparison I’ve had nothing.”

“Okay.” You say simply.

“How long can you give me?”

You smile. “You know I’d give you an eternity if you asked for it.”

“I’m scared.” Sunwoo confesses then. “I know it’s what you want, but selfishly, I don’t want to let you again. I don’t know if I’m a big enough person to do it.”

“I do.” You say to him, leaning forward against the table and looking straight through him. “I know because I was your doctor. I have cut inside your body, seen all your organs, and during surgery two, I held your heart in my hands. I felt it beating. So I know exactly how big it is, and I know it’s big enough for this”

Sunwoo feels the heart you worked so hard to repair bursting inside of him. 

“God. Why’d you have to read your file so soon?”

You laugh. “I missed you. I couldn’t help it.”

And just like that, you’ve stolen the entire concept of fear from him. 

“I’m ready.”

“What?”

He looks at you and feels the loneliness slither away.

“Ask me again.”

[lovely-necromancy]

A Cure for Insomnia CH 1.

This is a reader insert I originally started posting on AO3. I’m cross posting here because I know some of the fandom still lives here.

Quick Disclaimer:

This is a fic I'm writing for my own comfort.

I was inspired by RaeBees (you can check out their works over on Quotev and AO3), and how they characterize the "proxies". Having always seen the characters different than most of the fandom I've interacted with I never really shared my thoughts until now. This work is only placed in the Creepypasta tag so it reaches its demographic. However, I am fully aware of the fact that no main character is considered a Pasta.

It may also appear to lean more Toby X Protag in the beginning but end goal is protag with all three, and Brian and Tim already in a relationship. How I picture it now is a slowburn but Toby and Protag will be in a friends with benefits relationship before either has any feelings, so I think that counts. Some may be confused by the asexual protag tag but it'll be explained in story, as an Ace myself I get frustrated with media that only show one version and say it goes for us all. That being said I don't represent the whole Ace community but I hope to provide a bit more representation for some others out there.

Protag will be depicted as agender, and will have a few tics that stem from their Autism. Again I don't speak for any others with Autism but I hope to provide some representation for those in similar positions.

Tags will be updated as the story progresses. Canon-Typical violence and mental health issues are to be expected if you feel uncomfortable with those aspects I advise you to not engage. This story will also have a lot of NSFW themes and scenes so I highly discourage anyone under the age of 18 from viewing this work. You will get warnings on chapters with NSFW and I will make it skippable as well.

I'm also very nitpicky and gave the main characters birthdays just because it irritates me when it gets mentioned once and you have to do the math or imagine your own conversation when a birthday was too close to a character's.

Tim January 1st, home state Alabama

Toby April 28th, home state Virginia (saw this years ago no clue if it's accurate)

Protag May 13th, home state Virginia

Brian May 23rd, home state Alabama

Connor the service dog July 18th, home state Kentucky

I've referred to Protag as Protag here but in story they're referred to as YN.

Everything felt impossibly dull; your senses, the dark room you're currently in, the noise coming from the fan just to the left of the bed on which you laid. Turning to the window beside your head you stare out into that weird midnight summer sky. More of a gray than a true dark blue night, cast in an orange glow that made the night seem closer to day than it truly was. While the time was just half past twelve, you felt it may have been more accurate to say it was closer to four in the morning.

You're exhausted but that true sort of exhaustion where whatever energy you have left buzzes all around. It consumes your entire being, dances between being deafeningly loud in your ears to giving you twitches in your legs. You'd laid down hours ago thinking you'd be tired enough to sleep once your tics started to spasm in closer intervals, but to no avail were you able to rest. That buzzing preventing you from dreamland. Maybe the hum of your body was right, you didn't really need to sleep, you just wanted it to feel normal.

Knowing the battle had already been lost you push yourself off the bed and grab a pair of shorts off the floor. Slipping them on you contemplate your options for the night. Going into town was out since it was Sunday...well Monday now, but there would be nothing but bars open and you were never one for drinking. And as fun as a drive sounds right now, you feel the buzzing in your bones grow stronger, you need to move. A late night hike should keep you occupied, with it being so quiet and the middle of the night you wouldn't even have to take your headphones to cancel out the sounds of other people, you aren't likely to run into many people tonight.

Deciding on a hike you grab a mask and car keys and make your way to your yellow Kia Soul. A going away present from your parents that they gave you the moment you got your driver's license after your 24th birthday. Having anxiety throughout your life you'd never been in the head space to start driving till later on, and while you still don't enjoy driving you are pretty good at it even with your “late” start. Surfing through radio stations as you let the car warm up you find your latest obsession, it's a conspiracy theory podcast that someone in Kepler managed to blast through the limited air ways of the town. Impressive considering Kepler was in a radio quiet zone and even cell phones couldn't work in the small town, luckily you lived just outside of the zone so you could send texts and call your parents every weekend.

It seemed today's episode was a rerun, Mothman: Murderer, Man, or Myth. It was actually one of your favorites, the paranormal stories tended to be more entertaining than hearing about how a man could murder sixteen people while working as a cop ruining evidence to lead the others off his trail. Humans could be more vial and cruel than any little gray alien from the future or tall Fresno Nightcrawler could ever be. And they weren't as entertaining to hear about, nor were their exploits as impressive. You could always see patterns, either connecting clues first or finding connections no one else saw, it was never hard to tell where a certain case would lead so you'd always end up disappointed in humanity when they overlooked such obvious clues. Though that often led you down a path of deep diving for information to see just how obvious it was, more often than not you'd find that the most logical conclusion was shady public officers. After investigating so many cold cases you're sure if you're ever in trouble you'll never involve the police, in the end they'd probably just ignore you and rule your case closed if anything ever did happen to you.

'I'd haunt them if they did.' You decide and you shift gears and begin driving to the Monongahela National Forest, as the timeline of Mothman sightings and events play out before for your ears.

Instead of going through town and possibly loosing the signal of the show, you drive on the old dirt road that runs along the very edge of the town, partially covered in trees. This over grown road is the main reason Kepler doesn't see many visitors, the second someone makes their way onto it coming off the interstate they floor it until they see civilization. Over the few months you've been here you've nearly been run right off the road by spooked tourists, trying to escape whatever ghouls their wild imaginations created. The only real thing on this road was a mini mart gas station, and even though it was shady as hell the cashier didn't bug you too much when you came in in the dead of night. Plus they had a cat, how could you not stop in and say hi to little ole Magnolia?

Speaking of which you should probably get a drink for your hike, you could already feel your throat drying out. Turning into the parking lot you're happy to see no other cars around, putting your face mask on you make your way inside. As usual the store is dead at this time, and Ronnie is manning the desk. What's unusual is the man also behind the counter, he has dark brown hair that he's tied into a small and low ponytail, thick sideburns frame his face. You immediately take note of the slight imperfections of his face, most would see the slit in his eyebrow as following the current trend or even just a genetic thing, but you can see the slightly off color of a healed scar that starts just above his eyebrow and ends mid eyelid, he has a few smaller discolorations on his crooked nose, you'd guess he's had it broken at least twice.

Briefly taking a glance to his brown eyes before looking away, today is not an eye contact day. Nodding in their directions, the best acknowledgment you can give right now, you make your way to the freezers. From the freezer section you can hear Ronnie “explain” you.

“That's YN, a regular mainly at night though. A bit skittish and rarely ever says more than 'thanks have a nice day'” Even though she's whispering you can hear everything. Including the high octave her voice takes to mimic you, it feels more like mocking.

If being mocked hadn't already put you on edge the eyes boring into you have. The eyes may not be roaming over your body but the icky crawling of your skin sure makes it feel that way. The feeling of being put under a microscope has always made you sick, the stares, the leers and sneers, and the judgment just makes you want to implode on the spot. Cease existence, be swallowed into the abyss. You're about to set yourself into an anxiety attack with all these thoughts.

'Mask, mask, mask' you repeat over and over in your head, it's the only thing you can focus on. You are wearing a mask, there is one thing they can't perceive, the face is the most important for humans to perceive, your mask protects you.

Without looking you pull a water bottle from the cooler. You don't think you like this brand but the sports mouth makes up for it, and you can't focus enough to grab another. As the imaginary spiders crawl their way under your skin and your breath hitches you make your way over to the counter head down, never looking up at the employees beyond the counter. Your vision is blurring in time with the beating of your heart, you can't tell if it's due to nerves or from being up for five days in a row.

“Hey YN, how're you?” Ronnie asks, her tone is different from the past times you've been in. It's higher and has a lilt in it that you'd expect from a teasing friend. But Ronnie isn't a friend and has never spoken to you like this, you hate it. You nod to politely move on with the process, between the crawling of your skin and the buzzing underneath it you feel sick. And you're now very aware of the existence of your eyelids, you try to focus on ignoring that awareness. You need to move.

“Hmm, that's good. Anyway this is Tim! He's just started so go easy on him.” you hear the sound of a hand hitting fabric and assume she's patted Tim's shoulder as she introduced Tim to you. Why was she doing this, what purpose could introducing you two have? You nod again, was anyone going to ring you out?

“Hi, this all?” a deep voice asked, it isn't extremely deep more of a standard baritone that has a slight raspy quality, probably a reformed smoker. You don't smell cigarettes currently so he could've quit after years. Unfortunately despite your efforts to stave them off your blinking tics emerge. Making it difficult to keep your eyes open for longer than a nano second.

Startled and ticcing you look up and catch his eyes, you see pity in them, before casting your glance back to the counter. You can never tell what's worse people seeing you as weird or seeing you as something needing to be fixed. Nodding again, Tim tells you the total; a dollar fifty eight, and you hand him two dollars from your wallet.

Tim doesn't ask if you want the receipt or a bag, he prints out the receipt and hands you your change. The change goes immediately into the cat food fund for Magnolia. She got diagnosed with diabetes about a month ago and having worked in shelters and pet stores you know just how expensive her prescription food is. After folding the receipt into your wallet, Tim gently slides the water bottle over to you.

“Have a good night.” he says it so low and gentle, as if he thinks you'll shatter in front of him. As kind as the gesture seems, you aren't that fragile...or maybe you are if you have to keep repeating 'mask' over and over in your head to ground yourself. With a final nod you turn and make your way to the door, and just as you open it you hear Ronnie call out.

“Awwww, c'mon YN at least say 'Hi' to Tim.” You really don't like how she squeaked out 'hi'.

Taking a deep breath you prepare yourself, you'll show them both you can do this simple task. Even if you can't stop blinking long enough to see straight. Once you've steadied yourself you turn and look at Tim. He's sending you a look that says 'You don't have to' all that's missing is a slow head shake to complete his unease with this “peer pressure”.

But you can do this you can say 'Hi, Tim.' Two words super simple, nothing complex like 'Hi, Tim, nice to meet you.' and so much better than the option of your next meeting saying 'Hi, Tim. Sorry for spazzing out the other night.'. Yup you can do this just breathe, you open your mouth and...and you've forgotten what to say. Looking like a deer in headlights, well at least the tics stopped, you say the first thing that pops in.

“Mask.” You've said it loud and clear both cashiers heard you.

Tim stares with wide eyes and you see Ronnie failing to hide her laughter. Out of all the ways this could've gone this was probably the best outcome for her. The blinking has started up again, this time growing more frequent. You can't even hold your eyes open, to the two cashiers it must look like you're in pain or crying. And while you want to die of embarrassment, crying is a bit of an extreme for you.

So with red face and the inability to see you leave through the door, and try to make your way back to your car. Once in you lock the doors, switch the car on, and rest your head on the steering wheel. Out of every way this stop could've gone, being perceived by a new comer and Ronnie was not what you expected. While this hadn't been the worst five minutes or so of your life, it definitely would be another thing keeping you up at night for the next twenty years.

Calming down in the cool quiet dark of your car your slowly brought back to the world by the beginning of a new episode. This one talking about the Tailypo legend. A favorite story of yours from when you were a kid living on the coast of Virginia. So with yet another deep breath and the wave of nostalgia, you pull out of the parking lot and slowly coast down the old dirt road. Heading yet again for the Monongahela forest.

It's nearly two in the morning when you roll up to see an RV parked by the forgotten entrance of the park. It isn't surprising at all to find an RV out here since the Monongahela Forest is one of the most beautiful parks you've ever been to. You also don't think anything of them being parked by this unused entrance because you use it all the time since finding it accidentally. Figuring they just wanted to camp and be left to their own devices rather than use the RV sites and be bothered with other campers here for the summer.

Climbing out of your car you notice the RV isn't new by any means but it isn't a total rust bucket either, looks like it's been passed around throughout the years. There isn't anything to suggest it's been here a while, nothing left set up outside, must have just gotten into town then. You do happen to notice dog tracks around the sandy dirt you've parked in, good to know they have a dog before you slammed your car door. Closing the door gently behind you so you don't startle a pup and wake up it's owner or owners, you make your way through the woods. No real direction in mind, with no real thought in your head. Just the thought of moving and to keep on moving.

You could walk the same path every time you came through and always find something different. In fact that's exactly what happens, you're almost positive that you've deepened the imprint of the path just from walking through several times a week. Following the same winding path you usually do, climbing over the fallen tree, and through a scattering of blueberry thicket's you find yourself on the edge of one of the forest's many streams. It's your favorite spot in the forest so far, and about as far as you've gotten considering these hikes of yours take place during the dead of night.

The wind picks up and sends a chill through you, taking that as a sign you slide down to sit by the stream. Vans placed to your side as you sink your feet into the cool water. It's peaceful out here, so cool, and quiet, save for the slight noises the stream makes, various bubbling and drips. You try to think on things like your recent move, your job, the embarrassing 'mask' incident, just life in general. But you can't seem to form a single thought, this happens a lot, you've recently been conscious of the fact that you've been running on auto pilot for the past two months, hell a lot longer than that. You think everyone must get like this from time to time, but you think you've always been this way. Keen to dissociating and slipping in and out of existence.

It's quite nice really, except for the times like right now where you'd love to figure out why the silence in your head is so painfully loud. The more you think on it the louder it gets and the stronger the buzzing under your skin feels. And right now the static in your mind has been getting louder and louder for the past few minutes. You feel your head jerk to the right of it's own accord, moving back in place it happens for a second time, and then a third, then jerks up, before jerking a forth time to the right effectively cracking you neck.

“There we go.” you mumble, you can relax a bit as the verbal tic indicates the end of this round of tics.

Sighing you look at the sky...that can't be right. The sky has been painted it's fresh baby blues for the day, but again that can't be right. You just got to the stream, that path is a thirty minute walk meaning it should be just about two thirty in the morning, but the sky suggests it's five or six at the latest. Reaching for your water bottle you find it empty next to you. You didn't fall asleep you know that much, perhaps you did dissociate tonight. Well this hike was disappointing if you knew you were going to dissociate you'd have saved yourself that embarrassment and stayed home. Maybe done some painting or tidied up.

Sighing you push yourself off the ground, collecting you vans you're about to put them on when you notice a figure off in the distance. You freeze out of shock and stare at the figure, it stares back. The figure is about ten yards away, god your near sighted ass should really remember to not leave your glasses in the car when hiking. The figure starts to make it's way to you and after a few steps you realize it hasn't moved from it's spot. Rolling your eyes you ignore the hallucination.

You'd really needed to get sleep last night, today is day six of no sleep and though you haven't had many episodes these past few days, you have a feeling they'll start to get more prominent today. Hopefully tonight you can manage to get some rest, the longer you go without sleep the more realistic the hallucinations become. But for today you're content with the knowledge that it's just shadow like beings that you'll be seeing.

After putting on your shoes you start the thirty minute hike back to your car. You're thankful for the weather in Kepler, nothing like back on the coast. Here you can go for a morning hike through the forest while a gentle breeze passes by and the sun starts to give the area a pleasant warmth. Back on the coast you couldn't run and grab the mail without getting drenched in moisture from either sweat, humidity, or a mixture of both.  The coast sucks, hell Virginia sucks altogether, you're glad to be in Kepler.

“I want to go home, home.” you say out of nowhere.

Before you reach the entrance you hear barking, oh the RV campers must be up. Should you be careful not to scare them, or just walk normally and say 'Good morning' in passing, maybe just nod your head in greeting. Oh and you've stopped just beside the entrance as you got lost in your rambling. You didn't mean to come to a stop here, and as you try to move you notice how silent it's gotten. Did the dog go inside, maybe they've already passed...no it's too quiet for that. No the silence is oppressive like the one you deal with nightly, there's a reason for the silence. The situation's making you feel uneasy, but that could be the sleep deprivation talking.

You're about to brush it off and move when you hear a whispered, “Seriously man, I don't think anyone's out there. Let's get inside.”

There's a noise of agreement before you hear shuffling. Oh no, you zoned out and now you look like a weirdo stalker. Just perfect, maybe if you wait around a little more you'll seem more normal or at least feel normal. Not knowing how long to wait you walk along the tree line for a bit, looking at the ground as you do making sure you won't step on any snakes. In you quest to not step on any snakes you spot something suspiciously off white. It seems purposefully buried under a dead blueberry bush and some fallen branches.

Having listened to too many true crime shows, you know better than to implicate yourself in a murder. Grabbing a stick off the ground you gently brush the foliage away from the supposed corpse. No way, you can't believe your luck, it's an actual fucking skull. An intact skull of a deer! That is so cool, you've only seen taxidermists on TikTok getting so lucky and finding these dudes. Since the jaw bone is connected by tissue it of course isn't with the skull but maybe it's close by? Clearly this got planted or hidden by someone, maybe they were planning on pranking a friend by 'uncovering' a skull later. Oh well, finders keepers and all that, you have way better plans for this guy, hopefully you can find that jaw bone.

You set off searching through the foliage and near by bushes with the branch while holding the skull in your other arm. After searching about three feet around and finding no more bones you decide that this is the only part of the deer's skeleton in this area. A little disappointed but still thrilled with your find, you decide it must be a good time to go back to your car.

Surely you won't look weird now. You a little forager with their treasure in hand. Looks like you'll be busy cleaning, then bleaching, and cleaning these bones today. Is that the order to treat found bones? You aren't sure but you can look into that later. Placing the skull in the trunk so it doesn't roll about and get damaged you make sure it's secure before closing the trunk and getting into your car and locking the doors.

Not once did you notice the pairs of eyes that had been watching you. One watching as you found the deer skull, and the other set seeing you place bones into your car. They kept watching as you fiddled with the radio while the car was starting up. They watched as you pulled out of the sandy dirt lot and drove back down the old road a little faster than before now that you could clearly see.

[astranva]

Daffodil

Word Count: 3.1k

Category: Angst

Warning: Some strong language.

Inspired by lines from Lana Del Rey’s excerpt from her poetry book – ‘L.A, Who Am I To Love You?’

“And also I can't sleep without you No one's ever really held me like you Not quite tightly, but certainly I feel your body next to me.”

Daffodils symbolize rebirth and new beginnings.

 It was suffocating.

Oxygen wasn’t always an ally, at least not there and then for Harry. He had changed t-shirts 4 times after each one got soaked with his own sweat, before finally resorting to taking a shower.

His body felt limp, like it was on auto-pilot mode and he wasn’t in control of it, only watching as his legs dragged him to the room he tried to avoid if it was anything of no necessity.

He remembers a time when he loved the full-body mirror that stood in the room. He remembers the amount of pictures that one mirror caught, the amount of kisses it had witnessed. But as he passed, his stomach flipped upside now.

He had been avoiding seeing his face for far too long, could go as far and say that he hadn’t seen himself since it happened, a month ago.

But he caught a glimpse of himself and he couldn’t help but divert all his attention to the reflection that stared back at him. His hair was greasy, red blotches on his cheeks that seemed to mock him for crying too much for his skin’s own liking, puffy eyes, dry lips that reminded him that the alcohol he sipped at wasn’t what his body needed and that it needed water. He looked…pathetically sad.

But he was okay with it, being sad. Of course he was, how couldn’t he?

He looked dull – dead. Harry grimaced at the sight, his heart seeming to break and shatter even more – if possible – at the sight, feeling as if he couldn’t really recognize himself.

He took a shaky breath, tearing his gaze away from the reflection before moving along with the simple task; showering.

He hadn’t bothered taking out clothes prior to stepping inside the bathroom, wanting to just get it over with.

Harry took off his t-shirt and boxers, throwing them in the hamper before his eyes caught sight of it. Her toothbrush.

His mind was loud, screaming at him to keep his hands to himself, to get his shit together and maybe throw the damn brush away but he shut that off, reaching to grab the vibrant green toothbrush with rough bristles, as if confirming the absence of its owner.

“Fuck,” he cursed, feeling his nose itch before he set the toothbrush back in its rightful place, right beside the hair cream she used to use.

It probably didn’t help that he used her minty shampoo and coconut shower gel, mindlessly doing so. He hated how dependent he was on her, even when she wasn’t there but he didn’t know any better and he didn’t want to.

Harry’s shower was quick, as if he was in hurry to get out of the place that held so much of her belongings. The cold water didn’t soothe his muscles either, it only tensed them more, making him shower with a clenched jaw as he struggled to get used to the cold temperature – it was too cold and he fucking hated how it made sense.

It was all too cold.

Without her.

He had dried his body quickly before reaching towards the cabinet underneath the sink to take out the microfiber towel which she had gotten him,

“The material just causes lack of friction, know what that means? Less frizz. It also dries your hair faster than the cotton ones.” She had said as she dried his hair one night after her trip from the grocery store, the pink microfiber in her hand thoroughly drying Harry’s wet hair before she began scrunching some of the long lockets of hair.

He loved the towel.

He loves her.

Walking naked and barefoot, he opened the wardrobe, taking out a pair of shorts and resting them on his shoulder before opening a drawer to take out briefs. Harry contemplated wearing a top at all, but then reached to grab one – the one right on top.

Hers.

His movement halted as he felt the material in his hand, looking at the familiar watermelon-printed t-shirt.

“H!” She ran to him the moment he stepped inside their home, a wide grin on her face as she looked at his amused face. How couldn’t he be? She was standing in a watermelon-printed t-shirt and Toy Story-themed shorts. “Look what I got!”

It was that damn t-shirt and the love they made that night that had him write Watermelon Sugar.

That t-shirt.

His chest seemed to clench around his heart, almost begging him to put the t-shirt away, and that time, he listened and folded the t-shirt and put it behind his pile of t-shirts, nonchalantly grabbing another t-shirt before speeding out of the room to put on his clothes somewhere else.

Harry wasn’t stupid, but at times like these, he really thought he was.

He was stupid enough to think that it was the room he could escape when in fact, she was implemented in every little nook, every cushion – everywhere. Hell, even the coaster he had put his cup of tea on in the morning was one she had gotten.

After putting his clothes on, he walked to the kitchen. Surprisingly, he found his phone on the kitchen table, lit up as it released no sound and he was more amused by the fact that he had forgotten he placed it there.

‘Gem’ the screen had read, showing him a picture of him and his sister from when they were kids.

Harry debated picking up the phone. They all had been checking up on him, almost pleading to visit him but he was set every single time;

“I want to be alone.” He had said, every time.

He knew they were concerned, knew they cared about him but he couldn’t not cringe and grow even more melancholic when he heard the pity in their voices and, worse, he knew that in their minds, they probably called him a few names;

Pathetic.

Coward.

Dick.

He knew they probably liked the state he was in because after all, it was all his fault.

He gulped, taking his phone in his hand before answering, putting the phone on his ear and waiting for his sister to speak first.

“Harry? You here?”

He hummed, “Yeah.” His voice came out hoarse and scratchy, making him clear his throat.

Gemma sighed through the phone and he wasn’t sure what type of sigh was that, but it seemed to be as one of relief. He really needed to assure them more often.

“How are you?”

Harry had begun to hate the question. He didn’t like lying, but how could he reply with the same miserable answer every time? If you wanted an honest answer, he would give you one that went like that:

“Never been worse. I’m sad, I’m hallow. I think I need therapy but I know I need her more. I miss her but I’m a fucking dick.”

But he didn’t settle on that one for Gemma, no. Instead, Harry moved to fill the kettle with water while balancing his phone between his ear and shoulder, and gave her an answer anyone would want to hear,

“’M fine. How are you?”

But Gemma wasn’t just anyone. She wasn’t a distant relative nor was she a friend he hung out with every other year – she was his sister and she knew him better than that.

“You can be honest, you know?” She reminded him, “I understand.”

It assured him, really. Not enough to make him smile, but it felt somewhat nice but nonetheless, he hummed.

So, Gemma went on, “I want to head to the flower market, what do you say about joining me?”

Harry’s movement halted, standing straight and holding his phone with his hand, “Which?”

She was glad he didn’t decline right away, but knew she still had to choose the right cards to play. “Columbia Road’s.”

“Th-I-That’s one of her favorite places.” He commented.

“What are the odds that she would be there, Harry?”

“Yeah, what if she was, Gemma? I-I can’t, ‘m sorry.” He shook his head, feeling anxious at just the mere possibility of seeing her.

“Please,” Gemma said gently, “You love that place.”

Because of her, he wanted to say. It was her who made him love that place despite the amount of people with their phones out, taking picture after picture of the flowers instead of actually buying or learning about them.

“I’m telling you; some people spend so much money on carnations and boast about their blue colors, but they always have no idea that they’re actually dyed.” She had told him once as they strolled through the market, hand in hand.

Gemma knew she was making a risky move, but she took her chances. “What if you see her? What happens if you do?”

Harry’s heart dropped, his palms got sweaty and millions of scenarios raced in his head.

Gemma knew he had heard her, but she wanted an answer, whatever it could be. “Harry?”

“She hates me,” He began, rubbing his hairline in distress as he felt his eyes grow tearful, “I-I can’t see her and see the amount of hate she has for me. It’s already killing me, Gem, I can’t.”

“But she doesn’t,” Gemma said, hearing him sigh in annoyance, “No, you listen to me. You’re feeding yourself bullshit and you’re forcing yourself to believe it. Did she say that? Did she tell you that she hates you?”

“She fucking implied it!” Harry shouted, “She said she regrets falling in love with me, what does that sound like, for fuck’s sake?!”

“Sounds like disappointment to me, Harry!” Gemma exclaimed, growing frustrated with how thick her brother could be. And to be honest, she was getting tired of tiptoeing around the truth – one he needed to hear. “Sounds like she was hurt that the one person she trusted and loved for years decided to tell her one day that she couldn’t fit in his life and he couldn’t fit in hers! Sounds like she was hurt to me, Harry, especially because she didn’t expect you to break up with her, no one did!”

That was the last straw for him. Harry’s tears fell, plopping himself down on one of the kitchen chairs, burying his face in his hand as he cried.

Gemma’s heart broke at the sobs she heard through the phone, but she knew he needed it. “You have been scared to see her, to talk to her since the moment she walked out of that door, Harry, but till when? It’s not doing either of you any good.”

Harry sniffled, “D-Did y-you talk to her? Know anything about her?”

“Yeah,” she said sadly, “She’s not okay.”

Another wave of tears hit him, shaking his head at himself.

“I’m a fucking idiot.” He repeated to himself, over and over.

“I’ll pick you up in 10. I was already on my way before calling you.”

Harry gave her no response except for a sniffle.

“Harry?”

He hummed in question.

“I love you, alright? I’ll help you fix this.”

---

Harry wasn’t lying when he said the flower market was all about her.

Without her by his side, it seemed like all flowers lost their beautiful blooming colors, devoid of the saturation. It seemed like his mind loved playing tricks on him so much that it refused to make him smell anything but her scent, even when surrounded by dozens and dozens of petals.

A pair of sunglasses hid his puffy and red eyes, and he hadn’t bothered to change out of the sweat shorts and t-shirt, only put on a pair of socks and jogging shoes.

Gemma was beside him, walking quietly with a pair of her own sunglasses perched on her nose, her arm linked with his.

She dragged him to one vendor, checking the flowers and bouquets before pointing at pretty, blue carnations. “Look at these, they look beautiful, don’t they?” She asked her brother.

“They’re dyed.” Harry had instantly replied, Gemma more surprised by the fact that he talked than by the statement.

“Ah, you know a secret,” The vendor smiled at Harry, “You read a lot?”

“My girlfriend d-“ He paused at his slip, feeling Gemma give him an assuring squeeze on his bicep, “Someone once told me that.”

“Better hold on to them, not everyone is interested enough to learn about stuff like that nowadays.”

Harry felt bitter, like he wanted to tell the man to shut up and ask him if he knew anything about what happened, ask him if he was mocking him, but he knew that that was his mind playing another goddamn trick on him.

He was getting sick of the tricks and the amount of times his mind mocked his state, because when he turned his head away from the man and spotted her, he wanted nothing more than to have a one-on-one fight with his mind.

His jaw dropped, his green eyes widened from beneath his sunglasses, and he felt like he no longer was in an open-air place.

There she stood, in flared jeans, a half-sleeved shirt and eyes hidden beneath a pair of Seven Wonders sunglasses that Gemma had gifted her when she launched her brand. In her hands was one single yellow daffodil, holding it gently and with care, reminding Harry of the days and nights when she would hold him, exactly as a flower.

“Ha-“ Gemma stopped, following his gaze before her eyebrows shot up. She couldn’t say she was very surprised, because she knew how much Sundays at the flower market meant to her friend and brother’s ex.

Gemma also knew it was the first time since the breakup that Y/N visited the place and she couldn’t be any happier for her friend for kicking herself out of the bed and to the one place she enjoyed being at.

Y/N seemed oblivious to the Styles siblings’ fixed gaze on her, carrying herself with grace despite the ache in her heart and the memories that clouded her mind with that one special someone – someone who was standing nearby.

Time seemed to go slow, as if someone had added a slo-mo effect. She had turned, and she was going to miss him if it weren’t for her double taking.

The daffodil almost dropped from her hands, and her knees almost gave out on her.

As if she was pulling the leash on her heart, she turned away quickly before beginning to walk away in big steps, Harry’s heart aching.

“Go!” Gemma urged him, “Fucking go after you, you shit!” She pushed his back.

“I-“ Harry shook his head at his sister, not being able to tear his eyes away from Y/N’s figure as she walked among the crowd, leaning to the side as to not lose sight of her.

“You can, Harry!” She groaned, before tugging on his arm, making him look at her stern face, “It’s now or never, Harry. Your call.”

More often than not, Harry was thankful and grateful for his older sister; like when she took him sightseeing in London for the first time when he was 16 during the boot camp stage of The X-Factor, or when she would help him with his science and English coursework back when he was at school as a kid.

Like that moment, as he ran after his love.

It was easy to spot her. It was easy to run towards her.

Reaching her, Harry gently held her elbow, halting her movement before she turned, and fuck, 

what now?

He expected her to shout at him, tell him that she wanted nothing to do with him but she was quiet, looking up at him as she waited and Harry didn’t know whether he was thankful or despised the fact that he couldn’t see her eyes – was she glaring at him? Was she not?

He opened his mouth before closing it again, slowly removing his hand from her arm, unaware to her longing for his touch.

“Say anything, Harry, dammit.” She almost pleaded, pushing her weight to her right leg and – finally – putting her glasses on top of her head.

Harry definitely wished she kept them on.

Because the moment he saw her puffy eyes, clearly from crying, he wanted nothing but to cry out himself.

As if to assure her though, Harry mirrored her and placed his own on top of his head, letting her see how the eyes she adored so much, the color she decided was her favorite, was hidden beneath the puffiness and red.

“I don’t know what to say, fuck me,” he cringed at himself, reaching up to aggressively rub his eyes with his palms as to calm himself.

But then she gave him that look, that one look she gave him before walking out of the door a month ago – she was disappointed.

She shook her head at him, eyes judging him. “Forget it.” She was about to turn again when he, again, held her, but that time, Harry’s hand reached for hers.

“I’m sorry.” He blurted.

God, what exactly was he sorry for? What exactly was he apologizing for? Kissing her one moment then breaking up with her the other? Not calling her? Standing in front of her and being a coward?

But she had always been patient with him, and as much as her friends advised her against, she was still patient with him that moment.

“I can’t read your mind.” She said gently, stepping closer to him and looking him directly in the eyes, searching them. “Use your words.”

“I can’t do this without you,” Harry’s tone matched hers, staring down at her and stealing a glance at her lips before going back to her eyes, “I was- No, I am a dick. I’m an idiot. It’s taken me too long because I’m just an arrogant son of a bitch who can’t admit when he’s sorry and,” he shook his head, “But I am. I fucking hate myself for letting you leave, for saying the bullshit I said, for- for disappointing you,” he gulped down the tears that threatened to fall,

“I can’t sleep without you. Can’t eat, can’t function like a normal fucking human without you and I am to blame.”

Y/N listened, eyes getting glossy before she took a breath in, gulping as she tore eye contact before looking back at him, “Would you have said all that if you hadn’t seen me here?”

Harry stared at her a moment.

“Would you have called me? Visited?” One single tear betrayed her and fell, “Because I waited for you, all damn month.”

Before he was even aware, Harry nodded, taking the risk to reach forward and cup her face in his hands, watching as she closed her eyes at the feeling. “I would have.”

“I can’t-” She let out a sob, looking up at him with an almost childish frown, “I can’t afford having my heart broken by you again, Harry, because it fucking sucked.”

His breath hitched in his throat but it didn’t stop him from pulling her into his chest, wrapping his arms tightly around her, hiding his face in her hair, his senses waking at the whiff of her shampoo.

“Never again.”

Daffodils symbolize rebirth and new beginnings.

[hotwings0203]

This is so utterly stupid but I have a few HC’s about Muslim Dabi(again obv this isn’t canon I just think it’s funny)

-Dabi would def be the type of Muslim dude who claims to be super religious cuz he never eats pork and “goes to the mosque to pray”(which is actually just code for hitting a blunt in the back of the parking lot w Hawks and Shigaraki💀), but yet smokes^^ and still has hella sex with like every other girl who bats her lashes at him from across the dining hall

-he also is a big cat lover, he claims since the Prophet Muhammad had cats of his own it’s sunnah to keep one

-on Eid namaz he’s the most dripped out one at the session, I’m talking black kurta dress, nice ass watch, slicked back hair...but funny enough, no one has actually seen him in line for the prayers themselves

-if he were back at home with the rest of the Todoroki’s, he’d most definitely be THE MOST spoiled one. Fuyumi would get on his ass for not cleaning the dishes, but he’d wave her off and tell her it’s training for her to be a better housewife for her future husband(cue a soapy sponge thrown at his head)

-Snitches.Constantly. Bro like this dude catches Shoto on his phone when he’s supposed to be doing a dua? Boom, instant callout followed by a long ass lecture about how he’s straying away from his religion and how he’s going to hell just because he spent one measly moment on his device instead of praising da lord

-Hes also always telling fuyumi to cover up her sleeves that come just a bittt before her wrists, claiming that she’s showing too much skin(especially when Hawks is over, that fucker’s got his eyes on every single one of his family members). But she’s quick to point out his secret tattoos, piercings, and hair dyes. He just scoffs and pulls the “women were created lesser than men so it’s okay for me to act a fool but not for you” card🙄stg I can’t stand him

-Since he’s the closest to Natsu, he’s always giving Eid money to him the most. The dude will slouch against his favorite brothers’ door, watching him play 2K. “What do you want?” Natsu asks with no real malice, not taking his eyes off the changing screen, furiously clicking away on his controller. “Mom says you gotta iron your clothes, Fuyumi’s doing her own so she can’t do yours as well. Oh, and Eid Mubarak by the way.” Natsu pauses him game and stands to stretch his arms above his head, groaning at the tendons popping in place on his back. “Yeah man, you too-what’s that?” He points to a fat parcel in Touya’s hand. The white-haired boy grins and chucks the bulging package at him, which Natsu catches easily. His eyes widen when he tears open the cream-colored paper envelope and reveals dozens of bills exceeding the usual 5-10$ family limit. “Yo, what-how-thanks Touya!” He sputters, throwing the package on his bed and throwing an arm around his brothers’ back in a man-hug. Touya rolls his eyes and barely suppresses a smile at Natsu’s excitement,(something he’s always wanting to be the source of) pounding his back to let go before he asphyxiates. He lets go and Touya smirks before heading towards the door, calling out over his shoulder, “Oh, and I’d thank Sho-turd as well while you’re singing my praise.” Natsu stops in his tracks and looks suspiciously at the withdrawing slender figure. “Why?”. Touya’s voice is distant as he moves to close and lock his door. “‘Cuz it’s his money after all.”

-The two brothers are always waking up at Sehri the earliest in Ramadhan, just so they can scarf down a majority of the food in the fridge and go to sleep without having to interact with the rest of their family at sunrise. And in the case that their family DOES wake up in time to see them chomping down food made for a WHOLE FAMILY and not just two boys, Touya is quick to grab his keys and jacket and cackle that him and Natsu are going to iHop to eat some more. Natsu ofc is quick to follow pursuit, throwing an apologetic grin towards his parents and other siblings.

-When they’re at the mosque and Enji has somehow bullied him enough to sit the hell down and actually ATTEND the lectures for once, Touya still has one up his sleeve. Planned out strategically, he always simpers to Rei that he wants to donate to the mosque, causing her eyes to water and a handful of cash thrown his way, her voice wobbly as she praises her son for actually taking the foundations of his religion seriously. Unbeknownst to her however, this just means that he’ll take a little bit more than he gives. Hawks will be standing at the front of the hall, bowing his head and using his silver tongue to graciously thank the many men and women who come forth to drop their allowance into the money basket. When he sees his best man approaching, he has to stop the smug grin from reaching his ears, instead slanting his brows and holding the basket out to the now black-haired thief. “Glad to see you’re taking eternal damnation seriously, for once,” Keigo flashes his perky whites and Dabi drops Rei’s money into the donation basket, dipping his hand a little lower for a second. “Glad to see you’re still standing here like some busboy peasant, as usual,” he fires back, the two boys catching each other’s eyes and stifling their cackles as the patched hand withdraws, a copious amount of bills in his hand, more than what he put in.

-100% steals shoes. Usually you hear about older men doing this, but age aint nothin’ but a number to Dabi, baby. “Nice kicks,” he nods to a boy Natsu’s age, noting the blue and black minimalist patterns adorning the shoes. The boy recognizes Dabi as one of the most revered figures at the mosque (and the most featured by adults. Who’d want their kid hanging out with the eldest Todoroki as an influence?) and bobs his head excitedly, spewing out the manufacture and release dates of the shoes. Dabi looks at the fanboy amusedly, continuing to lean against the shoe rack as more people crowd around and start to push the boy inside. “See you later Dabi!” The eccentric kid calls out as he’s pushed into the hall by grumbling uncles. The ravenette snickers fo himself, “Yeah, but you won’t be seeing these shoes anytime soon.”

-A notorious playboy in the community. Uncles glare at him, unable to scold him outright for his shenanigans due to his father’s close presence, and aunties steer their children away from him at dinner parties. Speaking of, Dabi’s at a dinner right now. He’s lighting up a joint in amongst 3 mesmerized girls sitting on the floor in front of him and 2 jealous dudes his age in a locked room, away from all the screaming little kids. “Wow Dabi, doesn’t it burn?” The youngest of the three girls asks him with imploring eyes. He smiles a charming smile down at her and he thinks he sees the other two swoon. “Nah, sweetheart, you get used to it after a little while. Don’t be like me though, keep yourself pure and clean,” he shoots a wink at them and they giggle, faces turning red. The other two boys sitting at the far end of the bed scowl at his successful flirting, but Dabi doesn’t care for any of them, honestly, they’re just target practice. Right as he inhaled the fumes of another puff, a little body throws itself at the door, banging its fists on the wood. “It’s time for food!” They all jump at the intrusion and chuckle as the intruder runs away, containing to scream about food being served. The group gets up to leave and exits through the door, but Dabi takes his time. He wasn’t done with his joint, and he has to waft the smell away anyways when he leaves. He’s opening a window to let out some air when he heads a soft shuffle from behind him. “Shows over guys, go eat-“ but when he turns around, the oldest girl of the three stands before him, fiddling with her hands and looking at the floor. “Um, Dabi? I know you said not to try it out by ourselves so...I was wondering if you could-if you could teach me how...?” She looks at the half-used roll in his hand, and he looks from the blunt to her face. He looks behind her. A closed door. Perfect. Taking a step forwards, he relishes in how she takes a hesitant step back, the breath in her throat catching but she still doesn’t back down. She looks to him like he’s a god, and he feels like one right now. And so he steps closer until she’s backed against the wall, his lids lowered to her wide ones, and he placed a hand next to her head. “Didnt your mom ever tell you not to take things from strangers?” He ghosts by the shell of her ear, and she shivers. “She never told me the strangers would be this hot,” and he has to laugh a bit at her tenacity. He pulls away and flops back on the bed, signaling for her to join him. “Well come one then, I’m hungry, better hurry up before I change my mind.” And 5 shotguns later, Dabi barely wipes off her bright pink lipstick from his face and straightens his kurta along with his hair before bounding down the steps, eager for food. At his command, she comes down a minute after him as to not cause any suspicion, but it doesn’t stop Rei from shooting him a knowing glare from the living room as he piles his plate with food. He shoves a veggie roll in his mouth as he turns to join the boys in the dining area, but his path is blocked by a large woman. “I know you’re up to no good. The children told me what funny smell was coming from the room upstairs, and I know you’re to blame, Touya Todoroki. I respect your mother a lot so I won’t make a scene here-“ he interrupts her, mouth half full with a roll, “-I mean, you already kinda are,-“ but she continues her tirade. “-I don’t think you’re a good influence on these kids, especially your siblings. What self respecting family would be okay with their son acting like a hooligan, having piercings, smelling like weed?” He smirks and swallows before swerving around her. “I don’t know Aunty, why don’t you ask your daughter? She didn’t seem to mind my, ah, influence.”

-When they were all younger, there was a time where End*avor wanted the boys the toughen up a bit and stop messing around so much. He brought the family up to the mountains in a nice cabin, purposefully choosing an area with farms nearby. It was around the time of Eid-e-Adha, so naturally goats and sheep’s were going to be sacrificed for the family feast. Touya already knew what was going on, so Enji left it up to him, a scrawny preteen boy to take over the initiation. Fuyumi wanted to come to the farm too, but Touya glared at her and told her to stay home because “girls are too emotional for this.”(he really did think that, but above all he held a secret soft spot for his only younger sister). Natsu and Touya both started heading down to the field to pick out a goat, and ofc little Shoto wanted to come along to. He begged and begged for his older brothers to bring him along and to not leave him at home for once, and with a sly glance to Natsu, Touya relented. He leaned down to Shoto’s eye-level and asked with serious eyes, “You sure?”. Shoto nodded eagerly, standing straight up as to look more solemn and mature. Natsu held back a snicker and grabbed Shoto by the collar as they dragged him out to the pasture. Oh, the little boy was in heaven among the bleating sheep and fluffy coats. “Go ahead, pick one out!” Touya said eagerly, nodding to the clueless toddler to choose a sacrificial sheep. And so the heterochromatic child pointed to one, looking to his big brothers for assurance, to which they gave an excited nod. Shoto yelped with glee and spent the rest of the afternoon frolicking with the soon-to-be-mutton chops, completely oblivious to its grim fate and creating a bond with the animal. So when it was finally sunset and the time came to start preparing for the feast, Touya walked over leisurely to Shoto, pushed the grubby hand away from the animal’s collar, and started pulling the creature towards the chopping block. “W-what’re you doing?” Shoto asked uncertainty. “Well, we gotta eat, right? Thanks for picking out such a fat sheep, ‘wonder how it’s gonna taste,”. The eldest grinned with malice at his youngest brother, who started to sniffle and ball his fists. “You’re lying! Leave it alone!” He cried out. “Nope, m’not lying, ask Natsu.” Natsu turns to Shoto and shrugs his shoulders without any real regret. “You’re the one who wanted to come along, right? Think of how proud dad will be of his favorite-he finally sacrificed his first sheep!”

-the first time he was ever asked to lead the namaz, Keigo and Tomura kept kicking the back of his legs so he would fall over while trying to recite the prayers, and in turn he’d immediately whip around in the middle of the whole damn hall and shoot fire at the two howling boys. Needless to say, he was never asked to read again

(one would think since Dabi knows sooo much about being a gOoD mUsLim and how to follow the rules he’d take some of that advice HIMSELF)

[une-nuit-pour-se-souvenir]

random thoughts about aegon vi and septa lemore

Apparently, it’s Aegon’s week. i don’t think i ever paticipated in these events for any character or pairing, but @agentrouka-blog​’s theory that septa Lemore is Ashara Dayne and that the baby switch was between Aegon and her rumoured child (instead of random kid) showed up on my dash today.

Lemore being Ashara Dayne and there having been baby switch like theorised would be fantastic, because she’d know a lot of stuff that is otherwise impossible to know. She knows who dishonoured her at Harrenhal (we all know Brandon, not Ned). She knows about Wylla, a wetnurse from the Dayne Household, who Eddard Stark and Edric Dayne both say is Jon’s mother (we all know Jon is Lyanna’s, so this apparent lie version being told by two different people who have nothing to do with one another seems to suggest a combined lie between Ned and the Daynes). She knows about Jon because Ned went to Starfall with him and (if baby switch theory is true), she can confirm Aegon VI is real.

There’s also the suspicious narrative choice of a “Targ” (not even, she has dark hair, not silver hair, even if she has purple eyes) getting with an impetuous Stark at Harrenhal and a secret child never really going anywhere. What’s the point of that besides shading Rhaegar plus Lyanna equals Jon? This I always thought was suspicious, but this theory would *poof* make it make sense.

TYRION III ~ ADWD

This is the chapter where Aegon VI Targaryen is first introduced. The whole chapter is like a “perigrination” to find him. I am of the opinion that Aegon VI is the real thing for a long time now and there’s evidence that might be the case in this very chapter where he’s introduced.

"How fares our lad?" asked Illyrio as the chests were being secured. Tyrion counted six, oaken chests with iron hasps. Duck shifted them easily enough, hoisting them on one shoulder.

This is shortly after the chapter starts. Not only Illyrio asks about Aegon, there’s also the imagery of six chests about. If Aegon is crowned king of Westeros, he’ll be Aegon VI Targaryen.

By imagery, Aegon is real.++

"There is a gift for the boy in one of the chests. Some candied ginger. He was always fond of it." Illyrio sounded oddly sad.

This is often used as a clue that Aegon VI is fake. Illyrio is expressing some sentimental attachment, so there are theories that he could be the father and the mother would be some Valyrian looking wife he has. it has its merits.

On the other hand, Aegon VI is on the run from the crown, hiding under a false identity and dyes his hair another colour, but most importantly in this passage, is Aegon’s fond of a specific sweet that what we would at first mistake for a father for the reasons pointed above gifts him with.

This is 1:1 what’s going on with Sansa, she’s on the run from the crown, hiding under a false identity and dyes her hair another colour, she’s fond of a specific sweet (lemoncakes) and Littlefinger, who’s pretending to be her father and is very... emotionally invested... in her, gifts her with some (well, in parternship with her cousin, but the cousin is another matter).

By parallel, Aegon is real.++

Tyrion craned his head to one side, and saw a boy standing on the roof of a low wooden building, waving a wide-brimmed straw hat. He was a lithe and well-made youth, with a lanky build and a shock of dark blue hair.

Aegon is inrroduced standing above the rest, literally high-standing.

By imagery, Aegon is real.++

An older couple with a Rhoynish cast to their features stood close beside the tiller, whilst a handsome septa in a soft white robe stepped through the cabin door and pushed a lock of dark brown hair from her eyes.

This is actually what I came for, Lemore.

Why a septa would be described as “handsome” when that should have no relevance since she’s supposed to be chaste (I know, it’s Tyrion, but still)? Ashara Dayne is described by many as being beautiful, arrestingly so. If Lemore is Ashara, “handsome” is a good way to describe her beauty still.

Lemore has dark brown hair. Ashara is described as having long dark hair tumbling about her shoulders. More importantly, Lemore's first actions is push her hair from her eyes. Like, pay attention to this woman’s eyes, even though they’re not described ever (not even their colour).

TYRION IV ~ ADWD

Tyrion had drunk himself blind his first night on the Shy Maid. The next day he awoke with dragons fighting in his skull.

So yes, the night after Tyrion meets Aegon and his party for the first time, he dreams of dragons fighting. Take note these are dragons, not a fake dragon in whatever way and a dragon.

By imagery, Aegon is real.++.

The clouds in the sky were aglow: pink and purple, maroon and gold, pearl and saffron. One looked like a dragon. Once a man has seen a dragon in flight, let him stay at home and tend his garden in content, someone had written once, for this wide world has no greater wonder. Tyrion scratched at his scar and tried to recall the author's name. Dragons had been much in his thoughts of late.

One of those clouds looks like a dragon. There’s no dragons with these colours BUT Targs have purple eyes and Viseryion, a dragon I believe is a narrative stand-in for Aegon VI, is described as cream and gold, so one colour here. Honestly, the important here is that Tyrion is associating dragons around Aegon.

By imagery, Aegon is real.++.

"Good morrow, Hugor." Septa Lemore had emerged in her white robes, cinched at the waist with a woven belt of seven colors. Her hair flowed loose about her shoulders. "How did you sleep?"

Holy shit.

“Even after all these years, Ser Barristan could still recall Ashara's smile, the sound of her laughter. He had only to close his eyes to see her, with her long dark hair tumbling about her shoulders and those haunting purple eyes.

"Fitfully, good lady. I dreamed of you again." A waking dream. He could not sleep, so he had eased a hand between his legs and imagined the septa atop him, breasts bouncing.

"A wicked dream, no doubt. You are a wicked man. Will you pray with me and ask forgiveness for your sins?"

Only if we pray in the fashion of the Summer Isles. "No, but do give the Maiden a long, sweet kiss for me."

Laughing, the septa walked to the prow of the boat. It was her custom to bathe in the river every morning.

"Plainly, this boat was not named for you," Tyrion called as she disrobed.

"The Mother and the Father made us in their image, Hugor. We should glory in our bodies, for they are the work of gods."

Yeah, it’s Tyrion, who’d sexualise a rock, but this is a septa who deserves respect. Yet, this is how the writer “paints” the reader’s first interaction with this new character. These are always the most striking moments when establishing a character and sex imagery is what the writer decided to do.

Also Lemore not only knows that Tyrion’s fantasising about having sex with her and doesn’t give a shit, she laughs instead, gets naked to bathe, and doesn’t give a shit if others look at her naked body. This doesn’t feel like a septa. I mean, I remember Mordane and the zealots at King’s Landing who screwed with Cersei. They have nothing on this.

The way she puts why she has no problems with naked bodies and the like also suggest some kind of “free spirit” which goes well with the (disgusting, but there) dornish wanton woman trope and being dishonoured by Brandon at Harrenhal.

Another thing to note, is that Tyrion also clearly says the “Shy Maid” wasn’t named after Lemore, which suggests she’s neither shy nor a maid. This is confirmed by her actions and by...

The dwarf watched Lemore slip into the water. The sight always made him hard. There was something wonderfully wicked about the thought of peeling the septa out of those chaste white robes and spreading her legs. Innocence despoiled, he thought … though Lemore was not near as innocent as she appeared. She had stretch marks on her belly that could only have come from childbirth.

Lemore was pregnant at one point!

When Lemore climbed back onto the deck, Tyrion savored the sight of water trickling between her breasts, her smooth skin glowing golden in the morning light. She was past forty, more handsome than pretty, but still easy on the eye. Being randy is the next best thing to being drunk, he decided. It made him feel as if he was still alive. "Did you see the turtle, Hugor?" the septa asked him, wringing water from her hair. "The big ridgeback?"

This disparity of behaviour between septa Lemore and any other septa in ASOIAF is VERY suspicious.  Note how Lemore has two mysteries about her already, she’s characterised nothing like any septa in ASOIAF (more like the tasteless “dornish wanton woman” sterotype instead) and a mystery child. What’s the point of that, if she’s irrelevant.

Compare how he Yandry and Ysilla couple is treated, where there are no bizarre things taking place that I noticed. Also Yandry and Ysilla are specifically said to be a pair of Dornish orphans. Why is the image of Dornish people here, along with Lemore? Suspicious, suspicious.

Lemore is “past fourty”. The asoiaf wiki lists Ashara Dayne as being born between 260AC and 269AC, which means that she’d be around this age if she had lived.

The imagery of a (false, but still) maidtaking a bath while men watch is the same as Florian and Jonquil song, an event that legend says happened at Maidenpool (close to... yes, that’s right, Harrenhal, where Ashara met Brandon).

"The turtles have their charms, I will allow. Nothing delights me so much as the sight of a nice pair of shapely … shells.

"Septa Lemore laughed. Like everyone else aboard the Shy Maid, she had her secrets. She was welcome to them. I do not want to know her, I only want to fuck her. She knew it too. As she hung her septa's crystal about her neck, to nestle in the cleft between her breasts, she teased him with a smile.

That’s not the behaviour of a septa and note the narrative acknowledgement that Lemore has secrets. She’s also called Lady instead of septa at some point in the narrative.

If this is Ashara, then Brandon met his match at Harrenhal. The waste, I can’t. What a sexy couple.

This chapter also contains Targ history as well as some Dorne (mother Rhoyne and whatnot). It goes well with Aegon is the real deal. But what really cinches it is the ending...

"It was him," cried Yandry. "The Old Man of the River."And why not?

Tyrion grinned. Gods and wonders always appear, to attend the birth of kings.

The Old Man of the River is a lesser god, the son of Mother Rhoyne. These gods are all associated with Dorne.

Aegon is real.++.

Tyrion VI ~ ADWD

"Even the bravest of your forebears kept his Kingsguard close about him in times of peril." Lemore had changed out of her septa's robes into garb more befitting the wife or daughter of a prosperous merchant. Tyrion watched her closely. He had sniffed out the truth beneath the dyed blue hair of Griff and Young Griff easily enough, and Yandry and Ysilla seemed to be no more than they claimed to be, whilst Duck was somewhat less. Lemore, though … Who is she, really? Why is she here? Not for gold, I'd judge. What is this prince to her? Was she ever a true septa?

Who is she, really... indeed... Lemore’s identity clearly is important.

She turned back to Prince Aegon. "You are not the only one who must needs hide."

Why does Lemore need to hide? :)

[preciousthingsareprecious]

Close the Chasm

Dick and Damian week seems to have left me with a flood of emotions I couldn’t quite shake just in the event, so please take this. It’s more about Damian than featuring him, but still. 

Summary:

“He asked me to chaperone.” Dick adds after a minute, “I told him to ask you.”

He looks up from Damian’s face to read Bruce’s. His dad looks sad, a million thoughts hidden behind those eyes. He squeezes Dick’s hand a little tighter, as if that could change either of them saying no.

“This isn’t--” Dick goes to say working, but Bruce interrupts him.

“I’ve been thinking”

AO3 Link

~

Dick settles into the bed carefully. There is no reason to upset the sleeping boy, tucked carefully into his father’s side and it is the last thing he wants to do. Not when Damian has at last fallen asleep, any lingering threads of fear toxin not enough to keep him awake, and the exhaustion of a terrible day pulling him into deep slumber.

Instinct makes Dick want to wrap himself around Damian, but the boy is already curled into Bruce’s large chest. So Dick scoots closer, throwing an arm around Damian and over to find Bruce’s hand. His other arm is left free to ease tangles out of Damian’s dark curls.

“Hey.” Bruce murmurs, voice a deep rumble that’s all warmth and love for his sons.  

Dick hums, savoring the way Damian’s small chest rises and falls under his arm, and the strength in his dad’s hold.

“How’s he doing?” he asks.

“Better. I’m sorry I didn’t get there sooner.” Bruce’s eyes have caught Dick’s now, a startling blue so deep Dick wonders how Talia’s ever won out in Damian.

Sooner. Dick wishes he could have gotten there sooner too. Before Crane interrupted a whole field trip of students and grabbed four, including Damian. Sooner before he’d started dosing each kid with different and new strains of toxin. Sooner before Damian had screamed his throat raw and cut little moons into his arms from his nails digging so deep.

“Me too.” is all Dick says, brushing his fingers through Damian’s hair again.  

The boy sighs, and shifts, turning his face up and out of where it had been buried against Bruce’s chest. The soft light from lamps turned down low illuminates his features. His cheeks have regained some color, even if there’s a long scratch marring the one Dick can see.

“He asked me to chaperone.” Dick adds after a minute, “I told him to ask you.”

He looks up from Damian’s face to read Bruce’s. His dad looks sad, a million thoughts hidden behind those eyes. He squeezes Dick’s hand a little tighter, as if that could change either of them saying no.

“This isn’t--” Dick goes to say working, but Bruce interrupts him.

“I’ve been thinking.”

Dick stops, curious. His heart hammers against his chest. He’s a little afraid it might wake Damian. He’s pressed himself up against his boy’s back, and curled around him. Not a lot. Not tight and protective like he wants, but enough to say: he is mine. He is yours, but he is also mine.

Bruce shifts a little, a foot kicking against one of Dick’s. They’re both wrapped around their boy. This precious child. Like he’s their whole world, and yet hours ago they hadn’t known where he was. They’d lost him. Let him get hurt. Batman and Nightwing.

Some protectors they are.

“He needs his dad.” Bruce says, and Dick feels like his chest has been struck with a sledgehammer. His heart is no longer racing, instead it has stopped.

“I know.” Dick says, doing his best to keep bitterness out of his voice.

Damian had needed his dad a year ago too. Back when Bruce was jumping through the timestream, battling pirates on boats, terrifying the very first residents of Gotham, and literally changing history. Damian had needed his dad then, when he was new and terrified and had no concept of what love could look like beyond a pat on the shoulder and a cold “well done”.

Dick had stepped in. He had done everything for Damian that Bruce had for him. And then, when Bruce returned, Dick had stepped aside. He’d let Damian have his dad, even if it tore Dick apart to do so. Like pulling his heart from his body.

He slips his fingers from Damian’s hair, pulls his foot back away from Bruce’s, ready to get up.

“But--”  Bruce’s words stop Dick again.

He almost breathes ‘but?’. I nstead he continues to watch his dad. His heart fragile, like the boy between them.

“He needs you too.”

Bruce is not looking at Dick anymore. He has eyes only for Damian. A thumb brushing against the boy’s forehead.

Dick’s breath is caught in his throat. He is frozen, as if moving might break this spell weaving its way between them. This secret wish he has held tight since he packed his bags, tucking a small framed painting from Damian atop them.

“He loves you so much.” Bruce tells him, voice wistful but without a hint of jealousy, “And he misses you, more than he’s willing to let on.”

Now Bruce looks up at Dick again, “You two need each other.”

“What are you saying?” Dick asks, as if Bruce had not just explained.

He had not. He had said they needed each other. Admitted Damian’s affection. Said almost everything Dick wanted to hear. But he had not fixed the problem. The canyon between Dick and Bruce. Bruce could say a hundred things about how Damian felt, but if he did not explain how to fix the gap --the question- then what was he even saying?

Bruce presses his lips together, and he sighs, as if his words should have explained everything. As if they explained the plan he’d gone over a hundred times in his own head. Dick knows he has figured it all out. It is Bruce's way of thinking. He has watched it happen a hundred times. He has learned to translate to read between the lines. But today he needs every word.

“Bruce?”

“You love him so much too.” Bruce says, “You need him as much as he needs you.”

He reaches a hand out and cups Dick’s cheek, “I love you. I don’t say that enough.”

Dick stares at him. His words are lost. Once a fountain now dry marble. Something warm has replaced the worry and pain in his chest. It hits him, how much a son he is to Bruce as Damian is to him. It is so easy to forget, under the weight of life and responsibilities. Through the grind that is time and distance. Past the old fights and the new chasm.

Now Bruce looks at him as gentle and loving as he just looked at Damian, “I love you both, and I want you two to be happy, you know that right?”

He knows that. Dick is fully aware of his father’s love, even if it is rarely voiced so specifically. But it is so nice to actually hear the words. Like water on a drooping plant.

“Dick? Chum?” Bruce prompts.

“What are you saying?” Dick asks again, the words so quiet they scrape across his throat.

Bruce leans forward, ever so careful so he doesn’t wake Damian. He presses a kiss to Dick’s forehead and murmurs, his voice warm against Dick’s skin, “I’ve been thinking.”

“We need to change how we’re doing this. Share time, maybe he stays with you for a week and me for one. I won’t ask you to move back in.” Bruce leans back watching Dick, he still hold’s Dick’s cheek, like a lifeline.

“I’ve got papers, they’ll make you legally his guardian again. All the same rights I have.”

Bruce becomes the fountain that Dick is not. His words wash over him, explaining different suggestions for how Damian can split his time, that Dick can have his life in Bludhaven, that Bruce can also be a dad to Damian. He explains that they need to make sure Damian can’t just run from one to the other for permission for things. That expectations should be similar from one house to another.

“And Damian?” Dick interrupts, “Have you asked him, to see if he even wants to split his time like that?”

Dick does not say ‘if he even wants to live with me again’ or ‘if he only wants to stay with one of us.’ . It does not need to be said.

“I wanted to ask you first.” Bruce tells him, “I didn't want to put any pressure on you you don’t want, and talk out any problems I might have missed.”

Bruce’s thumb brushes Dick’s cheek, “This is as much for you as it is for him. I told you, you two need each other, son.”

Tears prick behind Dick’s eyes at last. Somehow he has forgotten what it was like to be considered. He will do anything for Damian, for his whole family.  He has, for years, given so much of himself to everyone, and so rarely does anyone ask him first. He is happy to give. Happy to pour himself out so that the people he loves so much can flourish.

“What do you say? Think we can be co-parents?”

Of course Damian will say yes. Of course there will be problems. Of course Dick and Bruce are going to butt heads and that strange chasm of who should take precedence will always be there (even if it is both, even if it is neither, even if that is Damian’s say every time).

“Of course.” Dick says, reaching a hand up to take Bruce’s again and squeeze it tight.

[midearthwritings]

Aren't We Just Terrified?

Three brothers who actually were two brothers and a sister.

Words Count : 1,997

Pairing : Fíli, Kili & Transgender!Dwarven!Reader

Warning : Angst

Author's Note : In this one, the reader is MTF transgender. So I kind of hesitated to write and post it because I didn't know if people would like it. But I actually am quite satisfied with what I did so yeah, give me feedback?

Now, this was different. It gave you a certain freedom that breeches didn't allow. You liked it. The feeling at least. Because when you looked closer, it wasn't very aesthetically pleasing at the moment. Perhaps it was because of your hair? With a flick of your wrist, you brushed off the idea. It wasn't about the looks, right now. No, it was about how it felt.

For weeks, the dress had been laying under your bed, securely. You had been waiting for the right moment to try it on. It wasnt that easy to have time for yourself when you were royalty. Between your duties, and your two brothers who were glued to you like honey to a bear's teeth, you were never alone. Not that you were complaining, no. You loved your brothers and your education, despite being tiring, was important to you.

Your patience had paid off. So here you were, in the privacy of your bedchambers, twirling in one of your mother's dress.

Deep inside, you knew you looked a little bit silly —just a little bit—, doing random movements to see how the fabric reacted to your body. But it was worth it. Because for every shift of your arm, every tentative jump you took, it felt good. It felt right.

But little did you know that your peace wouldn't last, and you would have to cut your exploring escapade short.

You were in the middle of another timid twirl when the wooden door flew open.

"Can you, please, tell Fíli that using a bow doesn't- What are you doing?"

Instinctively, you wrapped your arms around yourself, in a weak attempt to hide the clothing. Trapped. Trapped like a rabbit in a hunting party. No, worse. You had been caught, like a thief trying to steal from the King.

"Brothers!" You exclaimed, your voice shaking. "I will explain!"

What was there to say, really? The sight before them spoke by itself, your words would be useless.

Time stopped, as they both stayed still, staring at you. So, silently, you waited. You had done it for weeks, only to try on a dress. And yet, the five, or less, minutes you waited for your brothers to speak up felt like forever.

Then, suddenly, Kili shook his head in a slow, oh so very slow, disapproving gesture.

"No. This is not good."

His words resonated in your bedchambers, cutting the air like a sword cut the skin of its enemies, and breaking your heart in a billion pieces. Your fingers clutched the fabric of your mother's dress. Desperately, you looked at your eldest brother, pleading him to say something, anything. Fíli's silence was deafening.

Slowly, he narrowed his eyes. From head to toe, he scrutinized you. You felt naked under their judgemental gazes. And really, if you had had to choose, you would have rather been nude than living this situation. Because it was not supposed to happen. They were not supposed to come home from training this early, and much less walk in on you in woman garments.

When finally—finally— Fíli chose to speak up, you wished he hadn't. You wished he would've stayed quiet.

"It is not. At all." He said, earning an agreeing nod from Kili.

The world crumbled around you, the furnitures dancing in the room as you started to feel dizzy. Suffocating. You were suffocating. Yet, you stayed still.

Fíli was the first to turn around and leave, soon followed by your other brother. The door fell loudly behind them, its sound bouncing on the walls, echoing in your ears.

Slowly, you turned around, facing the mirror again. And through the tears, you looked at your blurry reflection. It looked ridiculously broken and lost. They had been right. It was not good, not good at all. Dis' dress was too tight for you, despite you not being as muscular as your siblings. The only part of the clothing that was too big was the upper part, where breasts were supposed to fill it.

Lips trembling, you grabbed the hem of the garment and brought it over your head to take it off. It fell to the floor in a soft thud, the deep blue fabric spreading like an enraged sea at your feet. Your eyes locked with those of the person in the mirror. It was a familiar figure, yet you felt like you didn't know who it was. Those broad shoulders and flat chest were someone else's. Not yours. You brought your hand to your face, following the stranger's sharp jawline with your fingertips. Droplets dampened your skin as warm tears slipped between your cheek and your palm.

All you had wanted was to feel beautiful for once, in that manly body of yours. And now, the two people you loved most on Earth would look upon you with disgust, instead of the adoring eyes they used to give you. You were sure that, soon, your mother as well as your uncle, would hate you too. Maybe they will be so disgusted that they'd ask you to leave. You will be very alone, in this world you knew nothing of.

At that thought, your tears doubled and a broken sob escaped your lips.

What stirred you out of your thoughts was the door opening again, and voices. In the mirror, you could see your brothers, arms busy with various items. Your eyes met Kili's and he smiled.

"Ah you undressed already." He pointed out. "Perfect. We had a bit of trouble finding the ones mom wore during her pregnancies but... Are you crying?"

You spun on your heels, facing them. Your brows furrowed in confusion. What was all this about? Kili punched the blonde Dwarf's arm and whispered loudly :

"I told you she would not like the green one!"

"You liar!" Fíli exclaimed, punching back. "I had picked the red one but you said green would suit her best!"

I told you she would not...

Green would suit her..

She... Her..

These two innocent words echoed in your brain, getting louder and louder.

"I do not understand.." You croaked sadly, bringing your brother's attention back on you.

They stepped forward.

"Well," the archer began. "Fili does not want to admit that it was me who wanted to pick the red dress for you."

You shook your head, completely lost.

"No..I mean. Do you not hate me? Are you not disgusted?"

The two princes looked at each other, now as confused as you.

"Why would we?" They asked at the same time.

"You said...And..the way you looked at me...You left...I thought..."

Your tears were stronger now, as you babbled nonsense. The confusion was overwhelming, and had they not dropped what they were holding to come hug you, you would've collapsed onto the floor. Instead, the descent was slow and gentle.

Reassuring hands were everywhere. Caressing your hair lovingly, rubbing your arms, drawing soothing patterns on your back.

"We could never hate you, Kidhuzel." Fíli whispered, pressing a kiss to your temple.

"We said it was not good because..." Kili explained, reaching out behind the three of you to grab the discarded dress on the floor. "Blue clearly is not your color, Muhudel. Plus, it is a dress mom used to wear before she met our father. It is too small for your frame. You need something that fits."

You nodded timidly and looked up at your brothers, offering them a shy smile. One of them—you didn't notice which one— reached up to wipe your tears with his thumb.

"But I was trying on a dress and I am a-"

"A woman." The crown heir interrupted. "You are a woman. Listen to me, Mizimelûh. I have seen you grow up into a strong person. But never, before today, had I seen your eyes scintillating with such happiness."

"He speaks the truth." Kili added, tilting your chin up so you would look at him. "You never liked the way you look. Because it is not who you are. It is nothing to be ashamed of. The Gods made a little mistake when creating you and they put you in the wrong body."

The earlier heartache was now forgotten, replaced with comforting warmth, expanding throughout your limbs. You smiled, ignoring the pounding pain in your head caused by your crying. Timidly, you reached down and took the green fabric between your fingers. No matter who was it that choose the color, he had been right. It was a deep green, like the leaves covering large trees in forests. Yet, it looked softer, more welcoming, than the raging blue one. It was also larger than the other, which would make it appear nice and fitting instead of ridiculously too tight. And although the breasts problem remained, you found yourself wondering how it would look.

Above your head, you couldn't see, but your two brothers were looking at each others with the biggest smile planted on their face. They had been suspecting this for a while, but they had waited. Because after all, happiness takes its sweet time, doesn't it?

"How about you try it on?" The eldest spoke up, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

"And then, we will add a few more things, and style your hair so it looks really, really good. Is that alright?" Kili added.

You nodded eagerly and the three of you stood up. The dress was pushed past your head, falling on your body delicately.

After that, a strange procession, of which you were the center, took place.

Behind you, there was Kili, taking off the clasps that secured the few braids you wore. You felt his fingers working in your hair. And when you peaked in the mirror, you could see his tongue poking out, sign of how focused he was. It surprised you sometimes, how talented and gentle he was with other people's hair, when he couldn't even take care of his own.

In front of you, Fíli was tugging at the fabric, this or that way, clicking his tongue when he wasn't satisfied with what he was doing. And when he was done torturing the poor clothing, he grabbed a pouch and emptied it on the floor. You looked at all the precious jewels and accessories that were discarded at your feet.

"Did you ask mother before taking her belongings?" You asked.

"You know us." Kili's voice rose from behind. "We did not, of course. But she will not mind at all when she sees how beautiful her daughter is, wearing them."

Fili hummed approvingly from where he was and you bit your lip at the appellation. Yes, you definitely liked it.

It took them a bit more time, many doing and undoing, and an infinite amount of unsatisfied groans before they finally stood in front of you, side by side.

"How does it look...?" You questioned, nervously fidgeting with your fingers.

"Why don't you turn around and see by yourself?" The blonde suggested.

And so you did. Shakily, you took in the sight of the new person in the mirror. The change was astonishing. Oh, your face still had some hard features. But the attention was taken away by the smartly placed jewels. Your hair had been tucked into a braid crown around your hair, decorated with smaller braids and clasps that were worn by women. A belt piqued with gemstones was circling your waist, hiding your large hips, and making the dress look less like a tube. And Fíli, intelligent dwarf that he was, had put the upper part in place with pins, therefore getting rid of the empty space.

Your eldest brother's arm circled your middle, and Kili's chin rested on your shoulder.

"What do you think about it?" The latter asked with a bright smile.

And when the mirror showed you how happy you looked altogether, you knew it was right. Slowly, you nodded at their reflection and in a soft murmur you said :

"It's good. Perfect."

-----

Translation :

Kidhuzel→ (the) Gold of Gold

Muhudel→ Blessing of Blessings

Mizimelûh→ Jewel of all jewels

[physicalturian]

[18+] Words of pleasure - Law x F!Reader - Part 3

[No spoilers] [Modern AU - College AU] [She/her pronouns used for the reader, no physical description; Everyone +18] Words : 5860 Archive of our own

Warning : Exhibitionism / Power play / Dom/sub Dynamics / Control/ Stranger / Flirting / Edging / Orgasm denial / Orgasm delay / Oral innuendo … If you feel like I should add more warnings, send me a dm or and ask

– Part 1 - Part 2 -

Once I made my way to the living room, I stopped behind the couch and observed the scene unfolding in front of me, unsure of how to start the conversation with the intimidating man on my couch. If he’s Luffy’s friend, he must be alright, right? Giving him a once over, from what I could see, I saw he was tattooed all over his arms and hands. His ears were decorated with a few golden earrings which only added to the charm. Maybe I could start with that?

Walking around the couch, I could feel the vibration inside me at every step and had to keep a straight face until I slumped on the couch next to the stranger. Crossing my legs, I was going to lean my head on the back of the couch but felt his arm and straightened my back before saying, “So you’re the mysterious food benefactor of the night?” He turned around and raised a brow, smirking.

 “And you’re the free loader?” Why was the way he said it so hot? I pondered internally. I was taken aback and suddenly wanted to yell at Nami for telling me it’d be ok. With a huff, and slightly warm cheeks, I quickly answered, with composure, “Tell me what I owe you, and I’ll pay my part. And, take the cap off inside. You look shady.” I huffed the last part as I glanced at the white hat on his head.

 With the hand that was next to my shoulder, he slowly removed his hat and was going to place it on my head, but I grabbed it and dropped it next to him. “How much?” I repeated again, talking about the food.

“Nothing, at least now she’ll stop telling me I owe her. Which I don’t, by the way.” He explained, his gaze turned to Nami with a slight scowl. I mumbled a thank you.

 There was something intimidating in his demeanor, even if you ignored the tattoos all over his arms. Sure, he was dressed casually, a simple black t-shirt and blue jeans but the way he carried himself threw me off. “Right, so, if you don’t owe her, why is she mad then?” I asked. I was going to sit tailor-style while waiting for the three others to finish preparing everything, when I felt the egg move inside and arched my back suddenly.

 I quickly got hold of myself, I cleared my throat and looked at the man with an apologetic smile. He seemed curious, but did not say anything. Instead, his eyes observed me intently. “I won a bet. She does not like losing money, and she’s still mad about it.”

“It makes sense,” I hummed, this time crossing my arms over my chest. The conversation was probably over, I did not know what else to ask.

 I still did not know his name, but I felt like it was a bit too late to ask. He does not seem too arrogant for now, I thought, very hot, and domineering but not annoying. Lost deep in thought, I suddenly felt something touch my shoulder and look at it to see the man’s hand nudging me. Startled, I contracted my abdomen, which only made me even more aware of what I had started before coming here.

 “You look tensed, are you good?” He asked in a, surprisingly, caring tone. I laughed nervously and nodded, uncrossing my leg to look more relaxed than I actually was. A very very bad choice, whenever I’d move, I could feel the toy inside me and the knot in my stomach grow. “I’m great, great. So uh-“ I pointed at his hands, “Bold choice.”

“I suppose it is.” He hummed, not convinced with my answer.

 “It’s hot, don’t get me wrong but I don’t think employers are fond of it. Doesn’t it make it harder to find a job?” We were interrupted when Robin handed us our plates, asking us if this was our order. I nodded and took it from her hand before putting the plate on my lap and thanked the black-haired friend for paying then waited for him to take his plate. I thought we’d eat in silence, observing the people in front of us, when he spoke up.

 “That’s where wearing gloves come in handy.” He chuckled, taking of forkful of his food before continuing. My mind reacted at the mention of gloves, I remembered the picture HandSurgeon sent this morning and it only make the throbbing between my leg, stronger. “But patients don’t really care about the tattoos, they can’t be picky with who’s cutting them open, can they?” He stated dryly.

 I looked back at him with wide eyes, not expecting such a dry reply. Then let out a nervous laugh, before genuinely laughing. “I was definitely not expecting that answer. But you’re not wrong.” I said with a small smile, “I suppose the pretty face balances the threatening aura, and the tattoos.” God why did I say that. I played it off and looked at the three people at the low table, shoving as much food as I could to stop myself from spurting embarrassing shit.

 But it did not deter my tongue who seemed to have a will on its own, the man and I spoke at the same time. “So, you’re a doctor?” “Threatening aura?”

I choked on some small bite of food that stuck in my throat and grabbed the glass of water the man handed me. I was going to chug it down but he made a gesture for me to calm down, and drink slowly. While I did, he chuckled, “I work in the medical field, yes. But Nami forbids me to talk about it, maybe another time-“

 “That’s right!” She ruffled his hair as she stood up with her empty plate, “No work-talk under my roof! Find yourself someone to spend time with instead of spending all your time at the hospital-“ Nami, who had interrupted the man, got interrupted in return when he told her he got it, that he’d stop mentioning his work but in return she’ll have to stop saying he had to find a partner. She just grumbled and returned to her conversation with Luffy and Robin.

 Once I had calmed down, I handed him his glass back and watched him take a sip from it while looking at me straight in the eyes. His already messy hair looked worse after Nami had ruffled it, but he looked good. Perhaps it was because I was aroused, but I felt a certain tension when he did so. He may not have done it on purpose, but I couldn’t find the strength to look away. I stared right back at him, my hand gripping my fork tight when I clenched my wall around the egg, feeling a sudden pleasure. Fuck, this is not how I thought the night would go. But you asked for it, echoed my made-up voice of HandSurgeon in my head.

 I masked the gasp that left my mouth by voicing a “Ahhh” of understanding then continued, “Very hot of you to, I assume, have graduated medical school.” Why couldn’t I just say it was great, or awesome? Why did I have to say it was hot? I had to take a deep breath and calm down.

 “Glad to know hot and threatening can coexist.” He said with a lighter tone as he put his now empty plate on the arm of the couch before leaning ever so lightly towards me. “Tell me, do you often flirt with stranger you find threatening?”

The speed at which my brain reminded me of HandSurgeon surprised me, I did a lot of things with strangers, so, why not flirt? But I hadn’t really flirt with Luffy’s friend, right?

 “Did I flirt, now? Haha. Sorry for the unsolicited advances, but you’re right, I should have asked your name first.” I said half-jokingly, meeting his intense gaze for the first time since he leaned over a bit too much now. To push him to introduce himself, I set my plate down and put my hand in front of me, for him to shake, and told him my name.

 It’s with reluctance that he wrapped his large hand around mine and shook it, the ghost of a smile on his face. “Doctor Trafalgar Law.” He did not let go right away. Instead, he observed my reaction. I rolled my eyes but smiled nonetheless, “The title is a bit too much, isn’t it? I mean… you did put the effort of studying a few years, I suppose, but I won’t address you as Doctor. Doc, at best, but-“

He seemed ticked off for a second but masked it and said, “Law is fine, but I put a lot more than a few years into that degree.”

 “True, money too, and from what I gathered you also put in the price of a romantic life, am I right?” I blinked a few times, realizing that I either flirted or said something not appropriate. No in between. And it was the result of his pretty face, it made me nervous.

 He looked at me up and down a few times then smirked, “That doesn’t mean I don’t fuck.” My breath hitched and I look anywhere but at him, instead choosing to focus on the way his tattooed fingers were splayed over his jeans, tapping from time to time. For a moment, I could imagine those hands gripping me tight, the blue color of his jeans being too close to the color of HandSurgeon’s scrubs only made it worse. I was starting to feel hot all over, I had to calm down and keep things casual.

 The fuck am I averting my eyes for? Reminding myself to not be a little bitch, I looked at him once more. My stomach churned when I saw he was still staring at me. He must have seen my intent glare at his hands, hopefully he did not think I was judging him. The exact opposite was going in my head, I wanted those hands to work their way on my skin, gently gliding on my inner thighs. For fuck sake, clear your thoughts, I reprimanded myself the best I could but staying next to Law only worsened things.

 “Good for you, good for you. A good fuck’s always nice, right?” I laughed nervously, “But since you’re so keen on bringing such a topic, I have a serious question here,” Was it really serious? No, it was definitely to satiate my curiosity but the way his brows quirked at my words made me feel things.

“Go ahead.”

“Do doctors have doctor kink, like- the whole nurse outfit, or… being called Doctor in a very very sexy way?” I did not expect the laugh that came from his throat. It surprised the rest of the people around who turned around and looked at us surprised.

 Law did not pay them any mind; he placed his hands on his knee and made a pensive face. “That’s the first question that comes in your mind when someone tells you they work in the medical field?” He inquired, his tone a lot lower than before.

 “I said no work-talk Traff’!” Nami said from her spot. Law groaned and threw her a deadly glare, “Stop with the nickname, and we’re not talking about work. Mind your own business.” I’ll never admit it out loud, but I thoroughly enjoyed his bossy tone, or was it annoyed? When he returned his attention to me, he sighed.

 “Hey I’m sure it’s everyone’s first thought, right?” I was trying to lighten the tension, to make it more fun, but he was keen on keeping it the way it was. Moving his hand back on the back of the couch, there was a smug smile on his face as his hand graze my neck. I tensed but did not move, it was probably not done on purpose.

 “It’s not. I get ask a lot of things, not this. I’d like to know what else you’re thinking about right now.” He breathed the last part in what I could only describe as seductive. This was too much, with his hand brushing the nape of my neck, his flirty attitude and the constant vibration inside me I quickly stood up. “Be right back, I uh- I need to do something- I’ll share my train of thought after! Promised!” He was startled and looked at me confused, but I did not care, I rushed back to my room and pulled out my phone.

 Edelweiss: Still alive and I really need to get off. I did not expect there to be certain people and it has some effect. Clearly.

Edelweiss: Are you still busy?

Edelweiss: sir.

 I paced the room, covering my mouth when a gasp escaped my throat from the sensation. I hated this, why did I suggest this, this is not fun. I want to touch myself; I want to get this tension out of my body. No, I need to. But this was clearly not happening. I considered doing it, even though HandSurgeon had told me not to, but reconsidered when I imagined the fun it would be tonight. Luckily, I did not have time to think more as my phone vibrated.

 HandSurgeon: Some effect?

Edelweiss: don’t play dumb, he’s like… he kind of has your vibe, the hot vibe and it does not help at all with my predicament…

HandSurgeon: Check the attitude first. Now, we’re talking about the same predicament you asked to be in, right? The one you desperately begged to be in? The one you are clearly enjoying more than you thought you would, that same one? I think you put yourself in that situation, and you’ll get through it like the good girl I know you want to be.

HandSurgeon: It would be a shame to go back home, and see a message from you, telling me you caved and touched yourself. I’d be disappointed.

 Groaning, I let myself fall on my bed and brought my phone close to my face. I read his words a few more times before replying.

 Edelweiss: so you’ll be here tonight… sir?

HandSurgeon: If my evening does not stretch out, I’ll be sure to have fun with you.

HandSurgeon: If you’re good, of course. I like my fucktoy obedient and eager. Which you are, correct?

 I had to take a second look at the name he gave me, I had yet to decide if I enjoyed it or not. But as I read it again, I was leaning towards it being positive. But should I make it easy?

 Edelweiss: I’m not your fucktoy though, sir.

HandSurgeon: Hold onto that thought, we’ll see what you’ll say after tonight. I’ll ask again, and I’m fairly certain the answer will be different, dear.

HandSurgeon: Now, I have to leave, don’t force yourself if you feel like it’s too much.

HandSurgeon: But imagine how sensitive you’ll be tonight; how good it’ll feel when you’ll fuck yourself just for me. Your toy filling you just right, the burning sensation of your walls stretching… Putting on a show just for me…

Edelweiss: I get it, I get it… don’t make me imagine it too much or I won’t hold on until the end of the evening 😔

HandSurgeon: You will. See you tonight.

 Seeing as the conversation had ended, I sat back up and shoved my phone in my back pocket. Talking to him had not help, at all. The pressure in my lower stomach had only grown, but I had to make do and keep socializing at least until Luffy and Law left.

 Now standing up, I checked in the mirror if I had any darker spot from how wet I was and was relieved to see nothing. I had to hype myself to join everyone again, and once I did, they were all sitting around the low table, Law included. They did not pay any mind to my return, except Robin who patted the spot between her and Law, smiling. Returning the smile, I shuffled their way and sat down. I made sure to sit on my foot to get more comfortable.

 Maybe to get some friction too from time to time. Or to make sure the egg did not slip out, could it even? Shaking my thoughts away, I focused back on the conversation happening and realized I was being talked to. “I’m sorry, could you repeat?” I said softly.

 “Where did you hurry off to?” Robin asked gently, Nami followed with more snark, “Yeah, you had Traff’ here worried. I’d run too if he was making some adv-“ Seeing how annoyed Law seemed to become when Nami teased him like that, I interrupted her with a polite smile.

“I remembered I had to send an assignment, but it’s done now! I’m single and ready to mingle- or like just, to party. I’m not- yeah I’ll…” I made a zipping motion with my hand over my mouth and poured myself a drink when the conversation resumed without a hitch.

 Law who was leaning back, his hands on the ground behind his back, observed all my actions without a word. At this point it was clear he wasn’t listening to the conversation right in front of him. I turned his way with a scowl and hissed in a hushed tone, “What do you want?”

 It seemed to put a smile on his face as he leaned forward, his elbows on his knees now. “Still curious of your thoughts, and even more curious of why you lied. But you’re not going to tell me the latter.” He huffed a laugh, “Not yet, at least.” His confidence could now be qualified as arrogance, I had a hard time distinguishing them from one another. Turning around to face him, I discretely moved my heel to get some friction and took a rapid breath.

 Choosing to ignore the fact that he assumed, correctly so, that I lied, I mimicked his posture. Resting my chin on my hand. “Then ask me what you want to know, I live to satiate your curiosity doc.” I said sarcastically. For some reason, he made a weird face for the span of a few seconds. He was quick to get a hold of himself and smirked. “Careful, I might just use that eagerness of yours.”

 I held back from widening my eyes in surprise, maybe even smile. I liked it, it was strange how easy it was for him to make my stomach churn in need, but I enjoyed it a lot. Giving him a half-smile, I hummed inquisitively, “What if I say I’d like that?” I regretted my words instantly, and was about to lean back when Law said in a low tone, “Then I’d be sure to give you my number to settle a date.”

 Looking at him with wide eyes, I couldn’t help but be flattered and smiled stupidly. “We barely know each other, sir. I believe buying someone dinner first is the tradition.” I said humorously. I was trying to back out of this, I don’t know why but the fact that he met all my expectations frightened me for a moment.

 He scoffed in response and leaned back, putting his hand forward, palm up. I quirked a brow and put my hand on his, only for him wrap it around mine and pull me towards him, “I was asking for your phone.” He whispered before letting go. I quickly pulled my hand back and frowned, masking my embarrassment by saying, “Well, you could have been clearer. Maybe use your words? That’d be interesting too, it does avoid me doing looking like an idiot.”

 Smirking, he huffed a laugh once more and said, “I could have, but then you wouldn’t have done that.” He then pulled out his phone and handed it to me, a new contact ready to be filled. “And you looked kind of cute.” Law continued, his brows raised as he glanced down at his phone for me to take. I took it with a grumble, not knowing what to answer. So, I typed in my number and let my thumbs hover over the name. “I’m really thinking of a joke here, for my name.”

 With my fingers tapping the back of the phone, I hummed in thought. “It’ll be the thing that appears on your phone when you’re working, so…” After saying that, he gently snatched it from my hand and shook his head. “You’re right, I’d rather you did not do something childish.”

I had to put my drink down to give him an incredulous look, “Funny, not childish. But I suppose my full name makes just as much sense.” I rolled my eyes with a smile.

 Maybe it was happening too fast, but we could get to know one another on those dates. If that’s what he had in mind. If not, I was not against having him as booty call, not when he looked this hot. When I felt my phone vibrate, I suddenly felt all excited. My brain thought for a second it was HandSurgeon, then the penny dropped and I saw an unknown number had texted me “Trafalgar Law.” Looking up at him, I quirked a brow.

 “Very uncreative for a first text. I’ll send a better one, then you can call me childish.” I then proceeded to send him an eggplant, a droplet and the two eyes emojis. The disappointment in his eyes was priceless, I snorted ungracefully which earned me another raised brow from the handsome doctor. “Because that is better? If you want something, I’m sure you can use words instead of emojis, try again.” He told me with a smug smile. My walls clenched around the toy inside me, his demeanor having a pleasing yet unwanted effect on me.

 It felt wrong. We were just discussing, our friends around us, and I was getting off. I was finding pleasure in all of this, my skin being more and more sensitive as time went on. “You’re the one who had questions, I don’t have much to say, really.” I shrugged, focusing on saving his number under the name The fuckable doctor friend. Proud of it, I showed him and he rolled his eyes, telling me to change it to his full name. “Hey, you say ‘use my words’. I say ‘it speaks for itself’.”

 Making a gesture to come close, he brough his hand between our face in a way people do when they exchange a secret. Then he said, “I thought you wanted to go on a date first, but you seem to clearly be needing a fuck to clear your thoughts.” I suddenly turn to face him, he was looking down at me with half-lidded eyes and a cocky smile. Our faces were very close, if I wanted to, I could lean in and press our lips together, I could push him down and-

 “Hey, hey, hey guys, how about you keep that for like- let’s say, a time when we’re not all here? I could almost cut the tension with a knife!!” Nami said as she put a hand on both our chest, separating us with a nervous laugh. She then looked at me with a frown and hissed, “I thought you had better taste than that-“ “I wouldn’t know, you didn’t even let me get a taste.” I shrugged.

Looking to the side, I saw a surprised look on Law’s face quickly followed by a proud smile and a short laugh. “He’s no good,”

 “I think a lot of people would say differently, they often thank me for not being able to walk the next day which says a lot.” He said casually, giving Nami the cockiest look ever.

I was turned on so bad from what he had said, from the attitude too, while Nami just looked at him with an unfazed expression. “Right, you hardly get free time Traff. I don’t think your conquests list is that long, but it’s great you believe it.”

 His laugh was enough to cut the conversation short. He was not going to argue back, there was no need to, but he was still slightly annoyed. “Damn Nami, you seem pretty invested in his sex life. Maybe you should find someone-“ She interrupted me with bright cheeks, “Shut up! I’m taking things slow with Vivi!!” I rarely see her flustered, but it felt nice because I was able to make Law genuinely smile.

 Letting us go, Nami stood up and pulled Luffy and Robin with her to the kitchen when Luffy asked about Vivi. Watching them go, I let my back hit the ground as I sighed. I was this close to kiss him, and fuck was it, “Hot…” I mumbled. I was quick to get up when I heard Law’s voice asking me “What is?”

 “Fuck, I had completely forgotten you were there- I don’t know how I did that but-“ Sitting back up, I covered my mouth and leaned on my hand in faux-casual, trying to cover the sudden wave of pleasure when I moved. I moved my hand to my cheek and tried to smile normally. “Sorry about Nami, she is very… Protective? Which I don’t understand why-“ my last word was said in a higher tone when I tried to scoot closer to the doctor but only made my situation worse.

 Still, I continued and cleared my throat. “I badly moved and uh, my muscles…” I tried to justify my sudden outburst, “Anyway, I don’t understand why she’s protective, you don’t seem like a bad guy.” I continued, “And if you’re Luffy’s friend, by default you’re actually a nice guy.” Law stared at me, deep in thought. He pondered my words for a moment, it gave me time to take in his features. His facial hair wasn’t too much, sure it probably would feel a bit itchy if we kissed but…

 At the same time, my brain sent me an image of him going down on me. His hair tickling down and making me squirm, then when he’d look back at me, his beard glistening with- “I don’t think that’s how it works; you don’t know what I do when behind closed doors. Maybe I’m a criminal.” He trailed off, giving me what was supposed to be a mysterious smile.

 “I suppose we all have secrets, it’s not that bad. I have mine; you have yours. It doesn’t mean you’re a bad person.” I stated, “Plus you save life, you literally studied around… a lot of years? To save people, it’d be counterproductive to kill them. At best you’d be a conman, and you know…. Eat the rich.” I hummed, thinking of something else to add. I thought the tension from before had dissipated, then I felt his hand touched mine that was splayed on the floor to keep me balanced. I was startled but did not move. Instead, I slowly looked at him, he was gazing down at me with a mischievous smile.

 “It’s cute, you think I dropped our previous topic. But tell me, you were curious about something.” His eyes trailed from our hands to then look me up and down, his lips pulled in a lazy smile. I was taken aback and dug my nails deeper into the ground, but since it was hard it only showed my fingers bent. “Was it a general curiosity, or were you wondering about someone in particular?” He asked.

 Laughing nervously, I thought I had to act cool, maybe cocky in return even. “Maybe I did not mean anything from that? Or maybe I am wondering if I have to invest in a nurse outfit for our first date- but then again, you’d have to pay it since you can afford it-“ He cut me off with a long sigh, “Avoiding the topic I see. Are you that embarrassed to admit you’re the one who fantasies abou being fucked by someone in a long white coat?” He said it in a dismissive way, but the glare he was throwing me from the side only lit a fire inside me.

 I wanted to tell him I did not, but my mouth wouldn’t let me. I stared once again at his hand and watched it make its way to my thigh. He did not go high, barely above my knee and squeezed it before brushing his thumb over it. “Cat got your tongue? No witty remark? Maybe I struck a chord.” I wanted to close my eyes, and let myself get overwhelmed by his touch. It was barely anything, but with how much stimulation I had been getting the entire evening, I was so close to cave.

 His hand traveled a bit higher on my thigh, I did not say anything. “Would you prefer I wear the coat, or you do? I’d have you completely naked, wearing nothing but that, splayed on my bed…“ He leaned over, his breath caressing my ear, “Tell me to stop.” He breathed, his hand slithering higher. “Looking straight ahead instead of facing me? Why not,” He gripped my chin and turned me his way, “look at me? That’s it, those eyes. So needy and-“

 “Traff! Let’s go!! It’s getting late,” Luffy called from the kitchen as he hopped off the isle.

I let out a breath I did not know I was holding when Law removed his hand from my thigh, sighing in disappointment. When I finally dared to meet his gaze, I saw how satisfied he looked. “I’ll send you a message when I am free. But send me a creative text if you feel like it, I’ll be sure to match the mood.” He said cockily as he stood up.

 Before he could go, I grabbed his hand to stop him, and craned my neck up to look at him, “Date first, then-“

“Then I’ll be sure to enjoy the sight of you from this angle,” He place his hand under my chin to get a good look, the way he was looking down at me was hungry and desire. If I did not have principles, I would have taken him right now, “It’s quite enjoyable to have you at this height. Just perfect, really-“ “Traff! Come on!!”

 I’ll give you a call when my schedule allows it-“ He started, but I got a hold of myself and scrambled to my sense, stumbling a bit when I stood up, I gripped his hand and took it off my chin, “If I’m free sure,”

He chuckled lowly and stepped closer once more, a knowing grin adorning his features, “You will be.” Then he walked away without saying anything more.

 They both put their coats on and stepped outside, Nami accompanied them outside while Robin stood by the door until they were out of sight. Once they were gone, Robin locked the door and turned around to give me a huge grin. “Law’s dropping Luffy back to his place and offered to drive Nami to Vivi’s house… That means we can talk about what happened- no what’s been happening the entire evening.”

 She seemed too invested, the way she leaned her elbows on her knees once she sat down on the couch showed it, that along with her huge smile. “Hey, Nami sold the product wrong, alright?” I started when I slumped next to her. The vibrations inside me were a constant reminder that I should satiate her curiosity fast, for something was waiting for me in my own room. Something a lot different than a casual dinner with friends.

 “Is that so?” She inquired, her grin only widening. “How come you never talked about him? He’s super hot, and those tattoos? Does he not ooze ‘fuckable’? I don’t have time to date but-“ I was cut off when she quipped in, “Neither does he, but I’m sure you both could make an exception.”

I rolled my eyes, but couldn’t help my lips from curling into a smile. “I just want to fuck right now, so does he. That’s a common understanding between that gorgeous man, and me.” I hummed, thinking of something to add. But Robin beat me to it.

 “He did say you were going on a date, I believe?”

I had to do a double take and raised by brows, “He- when?”

“Before leaving, he said we’d see each other soon when he’d pick you up for your date.” She explained in her usual gentle tone. She seemed to ponder a bit longer, trying to remember the moment more.

“Well it’s not even settled, and it’s just to get to know one another-“ “It often is, yes. First step to a beautiful romance.” I snorted at her words, then shook my head.

 “Maybe, just maybe. But I barely know him, and right now I’m more interested in knowing if I’ll be able to walk afterwards or not.” It made my friend laugh, she then grabbed my hands in hers and nodded.

“If it’s any help, you definitely caught his eye. Making him laugh is hard, but you did, so many times. I wonder what you were talking about…” She trailed off, quirking a brow inquisitively. It was indeed a subtle way to see if I’d give her the gossip, but I was not going to tell her we were basically eye-fucking each other the entire time and talked about sex most of it too.

 Although they must have noticed the eye-fucking, god the discretion is lacking tonight. I was still buzzing with excitement thinking of tonight, hoping the HandSurgeon would be online.

 “He was mocking me, but I’m glad it made him laugh.” I huffed jokingly. The conversation ended shortly afterwards, Robin had to work on something and told me to text her if I needed something because she was going to put her headphone on to not annoy me with her music. It was pretty fortunate, but I’d still try my best to be silent on my part, considering what I was about to do.

 We bid each other good night and I tried to go back to my room as calmly as possible. I wanted to rush there, take off all my clothes and check if I had a message from the HandSurgeon. I felt uncomfortable in my clothes, when I moved, they’d brush against my skin and I hated how sensitive it had become from the overstimulation.

 I made a detour by the bathroom to grab a towel then locked the door behind myself when I stepped inside my bedroom. Taking off my clothes took but a few seconds however made sure to keep my underwear. Plugging my phone in, I grabbed my laptop and placed in on my bed. I made sure to angle it right, so that we couldn’t see my face, then placed the towel on my bed along my vibrator.

 Once I knelt on it and opened Discord, I noticed the messages from the HandSurgeon and the fire inside me was lit ablaze once more.

[Part 4]

[whump-a-la-mode]

Villian-Sicle | Part 3

I didn’t expect to continue this beyond part 2, but I’ve come to love these characters. I hope you guys enjoy! Heed the warnings, this one contains a lot of medical stuff.

CW//Superhero whump, villain whumpee, hypothermia, hospital setting, cardiac arrest, blood, dialysis, talk of death, talk of “pulling the plug”

Taglist:

@whatwhumpcomments

@sola-whumping

@professional-idiocy

The machine was too loud.

Talking over it made Leader feel that they were tearing apart their vocal chords. Then again, the stress of the situation wasn’t exactly aiding in that respect-- they could practically feel their tense muscles tightening around their windpipe.

“They’re going to be okay, then?” Their tone was rushed and pressing.

“I don’t want to guarantee anything.” The Head Doctor bit their lip. “Really, I can’t guarantee anything. By all accounts, the patient should already be dead. Human body temperatures shouldn’t be able to get that low...”

“Humans shouldn’t be able to fly, either.” Medic shook their head, gesturing at Leader, who tucked in their wings, not even realizing that they had unfolded. “But here we are.”

“There’s nothing particularly unusual about their physical anatomy, though?” Head Doctor raised an eyebrow.

“Enhanced people have different anatomy by default. Higher heart rate, for one thing.” Medic provided, glancing towards the heart monitor sitting next to the hospital bed. The spikes were shallow, and abnormally close together, but none the less steady.

“Yes.” Head Doctor dipped their head. “Well, then, that would explain how our patient is still breathing.”

“They should remain that way, then, right?” Leader fretted.

“I have high hopes. We’re doing everything we can. It’s up to them, now. If their body temperature can raise before it’s too late.”

The conversation ended on the same worried note as it had began, and the groups’ gazes seemed to unanimously drift downwards, as if they had simply forgot that they were standing over a body halfway between humanity and corpsehood.

Villain’s skin was horribly pale, translucent, even, as if it were on the verge of melting away. The restraints on their wrists and ankles-- Leader had insisted as to their presence-- seemed far too loose around their captive’s thin structure, but they simply couldn’t be tightened any further.

The only patch of Villain’s body that did not lack color was their chest, in which a catheter of at least an inch in diameter had been inserted. The skin around was red with irritation, resisting feebly against the roaring machine drinking blood from the line, only to return it at the same access point.

The whole spectacle was horribly grisly, with tubes filled with scarlet draped over Villain’s chest in a gruesome web. The machine itself, sat off to the side, seemed to whine and groan with every feeble heartbeat its victim managed to make.

Hemodialysis, the doctor had called the process. Manually warming the blood in an attempt to warm the body. Despite its vampiric appearance, somehow, the process was keeping Villain alive.

A chill ran through Leader’s body at the very thought. Villain was a stubborn asshole, one they’d been pursuing doggedly for months. Somehow, regardless of what trap they placed or what situation they were thrown into, Villain made it out.

Now...

The machine was plugged into the wall with a single cord. Just a wire, just some electrons passing through metal. Something that could so easily be severed. A single tug, a clumsily placed foot. The fight would be over. Would it be so wrong? Villain had done such wrong... and they wouldn’t feel a thing. They’d part in an unconscious pool of their own delusion.

Leader bit their tongue.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ 

“You okay?”

Hero watched the small flame of force flicker between their fingertips, their eyes nearly crossed with focus. They had hardly realized that somehow had spoken to them, and it took several awkwardly long seconds for them to look up.

“Hm?”

“Are you okay? You looked distracted.” Counselor furrowed their brow.

“I think I’m... always distracted.”

“I know. Just... that was a lot, back there. And you looked stressed.”

“Just worried, I guess.”

“About Villain?”

“There’s not much else to be worried about.”

“I’m worrying about you, right now.”

“I think... Villain is the one that we need to worry about, right now.” Hero chewed their cheek. “You were in there, right?”

“For a minute, yeah.”

“Are they okay?”

“Alive. They were alive. But with Medic there-- well, I don’t think there’s a better authority on Enhanced biology on the seven continents. I think it’ll turn out okay.”

Hero chuckled humorlessly.

“That’s another thing I’m worried about.”

“What? Medic?”

“Yeah. Medic kind of. More Leader. Medic is... I mean, I love ‘em, and they’re the biggest hardass out there, but they’re a doctor more than anything else. Hippocratic oath and all that. But Leader...”

“You’re worried because Leader... isn’t a doctor?”

“No, no, it’s not that. Leader just seems so much more worried about the fight, and the mission, and the good of humanity, than, well, than anything that’s right in front of them. I’m just worried that...”

“That Leader’s going to make a bad choice?”

“Something like that.”

“I agree that they can be... a hardass. But they’re not a bad person. I don’t think they’d execute someone. Not like this. Not after everything.”

Hero’s gaze turned to Counselor. They hadn’t expected their friend to come to the base of their concerns with such speed.

Counselor gave a small smile in return.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ 

Head Doctor left the room.

They had made their leave hurriedly, ensuring that they would be back in just a few minutes, to press the Code Blue button if anything happened. Leader had nodded along, hardly processing any of it.

They were focused on the person before them.

Over the last few minutes, by some miracle or curse, Villain’s heart rate had begun to stabilize. Though the beats came just as quickly, they were stronger than they had been. Not quite normal, but on their way.

Medic seemed fixed on the monitor, eyes narrowed as though they watched prey. The screen had more than just a heartrate reading. Alongside that, it showed a series of other graphs-- breathing rate, oxygen levels, among some that Leader was clueless as to the meaning of.

They glanced to the door. It was firmly closed. Certainly, the rest of the hospital would be too busy with the recent break-in to intrude.

“Medic?”

The doctor raised an eyebrow, but continued their fixation on the readings.

“Yes?”

“What would you say is the... the percentage we’re working with here.”

“The percentage?”

“Of survival.”

“Well... I suppose I can’t make an exact predication, but it’s climbing every minute. 80 percent? 85? They’re not completely out of the woods, yet, but their temperature is raising steadily. The dialysis is working.

“80 percent.” Leader hummed. “So... 20 percent chance that they don’t make it?”

“That is how math works, yes.”

“That’s not an insignificant percentage.”

“We’re doing everything we can. As I said, it’s rising, and quickly. If we can get their temperature back up into the 90s, I would say that continued survival is almost guaranteed.”

“Is that so?”

“What’s got you acting so weird, all of a sudden?” Medic finally turned from the screen, glancing to Leader.

Leader gulped.

“Do you remember when we were in Denver?”

“At the telecommunications hub? Yeah.”

“And in Vancouver?”

“Yes?”

“And at the bank, in Phoenix?”

“Leader, I assure you, my memory is fine.”

“No, no, I mean, Villain did all those things, right?”

“They had help.”

“But they led the charge?”

“I suppose so, yes.”

“They’ve hurt a lot of people. Destroyed a lot of places... brought them to the ground. Leveled a city block, once.”

“Seriously, what is this about?”

Leader’s gaze glanced down to the Villain, pale, restrained, with a tube skewering their flesh, then back at Medic.

“No.”

“What?”

“No. No, no, no. I let you restrain them like some kind of beast, which, for your information, is completely against medical protocol. I’m not letting you kill Villain.”

“And why not?”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ 

Outside the hospital room, in a pair of plastic chairs, Hero and Counselor sat with far more relaxation between them. They watched passively as Head Doctor left the room, hurrying off to another room.

Hero took a fidget rope from a coat pocket and began twisting it between their hands.

“What do you think they’re going to do with Villain, then?” Counselor’s voice was considerably quieter, as if they were telling a secret. They stared off, down the hallway, instead of meeting Hero’s eyes.

“I just hope they let us have some input in this whole thing.”

“Me too. But... what would you prefer? If you had the choice?”

“I mean...” Hero sighed. “They haven’t been the best person, I think we can all agree on that. They’re dangerous. But I also think that... they’re scared. They’re scared, Counselor, really scared.

If it was up to me, I think we should help them. While in our custody, but, I think they need help. And maybe then, they can help us? I mean, they must know something about Supervillain. It’d be nice to have an informant.

Really, I just want to see them okay again. Even if it does mean that they go back to being an asshole.”

“That’d be nice.”

Hero nodded.

“I think Medic mentioned that, once Villain’s stable, we’re gonna move them back to base. Where we have the special medical equipment, the Enhanced care stuff.”

“Yeah. I think Leader is definently going to want to keep them in custody.”

“If they try to hurt them, though... I’m not gonna let that happen. If we have to keep them prisoner, we can at least be humane about it.”

“Yeah. Yeah, of course.”

“I just hope Leader agrees.”

“Me too.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━��� 

“It’d be a waste.”

The answer was too analytical. Leader had expected to be yelled at, to get an earful about morality and ethics and other crap. Not something so simple, so factual.

“What do you mean?” Leader’s tone wasn’t accusing, at least they didn’t intend for it to be. It was far more dumbfounded in nature.

“Everything in this world runs on technology. Those lights, that door, this machine, everything. Everyone has a phone. Every building has a network, of both electricity and information. Villain can patch into all of that. You said it yourself, they leveled a whole city block. What else can they do?”

“What are you... what are you implying?”

“We keep them, and we use them.”

A garbled voice resounded throughout the room. Leader whirled around, half expecting Supervillain to be right behind them, before turning back.

“Was that y-” They began to ask, but didn’t quite get the chance.

“Code Blue! Code Blue!” Medic snapped. “Don’t be useless, press the damn button!”

It took Leader’s confused mind a moment to note the emergency that Medic was responding to-- that of a horrible, electric screech. The heart monitor was no longer showing a steady pulse.

At the sight, Leader’s own heart rate sped up. They nearly tripped over their own feet as they rushed to the blue button on the wall, jabbing it with their finger multiple times in a frenzied panic. Once they were satisfied that they spiraling terror had been registered properly, they returned to Medic’s side.

The doctor had their hands positioned on Villain’s chest, one over the other, slamming downwards repeatedly. In between, Leader could see a sharp rise in the chest-- they were still breathing. But for how much longer?

Dammit, dammit, don’t think like that, it’s someone’s life!

A resounding crash burst through the room as the door was slammed open. They rushed to the bedside, seemingly ready to continue CPR, before Medic raised an arm, preventing them.

“No, no, they’re okay.” Medic panted breathlessly. Leader raised their eyes to the heart monitor-- sure enough, a slow, steady rhythm was returning.

They’d made it.

“Mmm..”

Leader panted for breath, trying in vain to calm their racing heartrate.

“Mmm... whaaa...”

Leader’s shaking gaze shifted to the source of the noises--only to find their eyes locked with the wide ones of Villain.

[dragonrajafanfiction]

Club Takamagahara (Part 3) The Main Character

Feels. If opportunities were broad sides of barges, the Devs couldn’t hit them.

I’m enjoying the heck out of this, and its not even hard to write.

Enjoy!

“MC!” Caesar’s voice startled you, even though you were awake. How could you sleep when your emotions were in such roiling turmoil?

You had just woken up in a strange place where people exploded everything that was inside themselves and doused the flames in showers of liquor. They poured it on each other, hugged, touched, screamed! If you grew up in the polar north, this was the tropics with its searing heat and blazing sun. You were calm about it, but like a sunburn, as you lay in the dark and closed your eyes the images of flashing lights and heaving bodies was turning into a strange red mark on your brain that you couldn’t ignore.

So you quickly get out of bed and open the closet.  It was Caesar. His expression was serious.

"Ten minutes, dress yourselves up, the store manager wants to see you." Caesar was once again dressed in full costume. He wasn’t wearing the same tight-fitting suit. It was replaced by a see-through silver shirt, tied a rhinestone neck scarf. The back of his tight pants wrapped his buttocks so that the muscle was visible.

“Why?” You ask, as you’re drawn out of the closet in confusion. The other boys were also dressed.

“While you were resting, we went into our interview. The Whale doesn’t want to make a decision without seeing you first.”

Your mind briefly flashes back to the Whale in Siberia. “Whale?”

Chu Zihang spoke. "Japan is surrounded by the sea on all sides, so the Japanese worship the ocean. In the sea, the whale is the most powerful animal, and whale meat is also an aphrodisiac food, so the man with the title of ‘Whale’ should be said to be the most powerful of men." 

“Here, get dressed.” Caesar had produced yet another outfit.

This Cheongsam was different, black. The chest was still covered, but your skin shined through lace roses on your chest. The skirt only barely covered the front and the back. The slits in both sides of the skirt rose all the way to the curve of your butt.

Mingfei peeked through his fingers. “Boss…”

“No time to worry about anything. You have to nail this.” Caesar said.

“Yes.” You held out your leg so he could help you into your fish nets, his fingers gently sliding up your calves and thighs.. “What do I have to do?”

“The Whale interview isn’t difficult, but it’s pass or fail. You have to open your heart to him and be as honest as you can. You can’t hold back or lie, because he’ll see through it. If he likes what he sees, he’ll let you stay.”

He stands behind you and removes the comb from your bun. The hair falls over your shoulder and he starts running a brush through it, pulling through the tangles roughly in his hurry.

“What is he going to ask?” You’re not minding his yanking. In fact, it felt nice to have your hair pulled like this. It gave you a tingly feeling in your scalp.

“I don’t know. If you do your best though, I think, you’ll be fine. But you’re very closed up. You can’t be that way in front of him. So just prepare yourself to be open.”

“Okay…” 

He turns you around. “Lu, get me the make up case.”

“Yes, boss.” 

He’s crouched in front of you, eyes sharp. His eyes search your face. “Your skin is good at least.”

You smile, but you feel nervous. He was right. Being open wasn’t your strong suit.

Lu Mingfei returns with the make up case and Caesar paints your eyes, sweeps a brush through your eyelashes and paints your lips. “I think simple is best in this situation.”

“Little sister… if you don’t feel comfortable. I understand…” Mingfei mumbled.

“I cannot do anything else, right now. If we’re thrown out, it’s over! So please just believe in me.” 

You glance up at him. Mingfei’s cheeks turn a little red. “I… Okay.”

As the four of you rise through the elevator, Caesar continues to explain to you. “The first floor is a stage and dance floor, a place for grand performances and female guests to drink and dance; the second floor is a spa and beauty salon; the third floor is a kaiseki restaurant called "Barnacles" and a tea house. The retired performers have their own suites on the third floor. We can only live in the basement as interns.  Well, it’s more accurate to say that we live in that bathroom.”

“No wonder you’re always bathing.” Your heart is leaping in your chest, but you stay calm on the outside, ever humorous.

“The fourth floor is off limits. Only those invited by the store manager can set foot here. They call it The Sea.”

You step out of the elevator. Fourth Floor.

Doors painted with blue acacia flowers opened one after another and, by each door stood tall, sturdy, black-clad bodyguards. You clasp your hands in front of you, just like you did for the man in the striped suit. Just like the high school student in the manga, you keep your eyelashes low, and your back straight. Only now there was no breeze to lift your skirt or hair.

Of course, the giant whale should live in The Sea, so this whole floor is the residence of the store manager. The main color of the whole floor is sea blue -- sea blue walls, sea blue carpets, sea blue curtains, even the table porcelain are sea blue. The bodyguards have turtles, starfish, and sea crabs tattooed on their bald heads.

In front of the last aquamarine door, a man, tall with a body overflowing with mounds of fat, stood. If this was the sea, and you were going to meet a whale, this man was truly like a male seal. The Baikal Seals live in Russia, in the great lake. They could reach five feet and length and weigh 290 pounds. But this man was far bigger than even the biggest seal you’d ever seen. You look up at him, jaw dropping. This man would probably rule the beaches of Baikal as a seal!

He looked down at you. “The only way to impress the store manager is to show your true self.” He rumbled. “I have never seen a woman do this before. So who knows what might happen? But it will be a clash of heart upon heart. If your woman’s heart can reach him then…”

The Seal Man trailed off into silence and stepped to one side.

The last door slowly swung in. The fresh scent of seaweed comes to your nose, and your ears are full of the sound of water, as if you were facing the undulating sea. 

Behind the door was a rotunda, with a huge ring-shaped transparent fish tank as the wall. Clusters of soft coral grew on the rocks. Sea grass swayed in the artificial waves. Sea turtles slowly floated up, to just touch their noses to the surface. The two-meter long tiger shark has swam around the hall. 

The ocean… again. You think bitterly. The Arctic Sea, then the Deep Sea of Japan, and now this? Most people were overwhelmed by the sight of such a magnificent office. After all, the amount of money to maintain something like this had to exceed the yearly salary of an ordinary person every month! But your eyes grow cold and your frown with annoyance. You’re sick of the ocean.

The hall was very open, with two rows of bookshelves behind an oversized desk. In the light sat a stout man that reminded you of a giant bear. His whole body bathed in aquamarine - from his aquamarine satin suit to his aquamarine leather shoes, with a huge aquamarine ring on his ring finger and a red coral brooch on his chest. He sat on an aquamarine velvet sofa, smoking a thick Churchill cigar, gently stroking a famous breed of Himalayan cat, and shaking a cup of golden alcohol on the rocks, which reflected a splendid light. 

True to his name, the store manager Whale is even more dominant when he appears in private marine settings. He wore huge sunglasses. The top of his head shined like bright tile. Were it not for the blue whale tattooed on the side of his head, you would have thought that he too was part of the yakuza. But seeing it took away from the seriousness of it all.

He looks at you and quirks a single eyebrow. He eyes you up and down once and then nods, looking over to Caesar, Zihang, and Mingfei. “It looks like you weren’t kidding me about her.”

What did Caesar say? You wonder and glance over your shoulder, but the three men were already moving to the aquamarine sofas near the glass walls.

This was it. You take a deep breath. Whatever the question, you would answer with your truth. No matter how difficult, no matter how dark, no matter how cold. If he didn’t like it? Tough. Such rich and privileged men could rarely handle a truth, especially a woman’s truth. Such was reality. You doubted this sort of tactic would let you win, but you had to trust Caesar.

And yourself.

The Whale picked up a brush and dipped it in ink. Instead of writing he froze, looking up at you once again. His eyes behind the tint met your cold challenging ones. He slowly lifted the brush, looked down at a small parchment.

He wrote in quick elegant calligraphy, two characters which he held up for all to see. “Lost Love.”

“Ms. MC. The question I am asking you is about lost love.”

You inhale sharply through your nose and your eyes widen. You’d opened your heart and now, it was like he had taken a long sword and run you through with it! Your ears tingle. Your eyes burn. Your hands, still clasped in front of you, jerk tighter to dig your nails in, a reflex to stem the emotional pain.

“In this line of work, we deal with many women who have no love or have never experienced it. Caesar says you have never experienced the love of a man. So tell me. What can you say about Lost Love?”

Your mouth opens but nothing comes out. The memories spiral up from your heart and through your mind like a long sleeping geyser that had finally erupted, flooding your body and rendering you speechless.

The darkness of the winter solstice comes again, but it’s midday in the arctic. So the pale blush of the reminder of sun was just starting to appear on the low horizon. The sky is full of stars. The green aurora dances over head like a parade. The lighthouse in the distance peals its church-like bell, slowly rotating its sword of light though the thick night air. A flock of white snow geese pass by, in V formation, calling encouragement to each other on the journey.

Renata is sitting alone on stones swept free from the fallen dry snow. Her blond hair is tucked up in her fur lined hood and her body is covered head to toe in the thick coat that was patched over and over in many colors. 

Your breath fogs in front of your face as you sigh and make your way up.

A whale always passed by here this time of day on Christmas. It was a secret you shared only with her and you came up here every year to see it. As you go to sit down next to her, the whale appears, a black shadow moving under the ice.

“Make a wish.” She whispers.

Normally, people wished on stars. But the stars were frozen and inert in the sky, stuck here, just like you. The whale, however, was free to roam as it liked. It had the power to make dreams come true.

After a moment, Renata looked up at you, her pale blue eyes sparkling. Her skin was good, her lips bright and her cheeks flushed against the winter frost. “What did you wish for?”

“The same thing I wish for every year.” You reply warmly.  “I want to be just like the whale. To be free and live in the ocean."

Renata grins and giggles. "If that day ever comes, I hope that I'll be standing right next to you. I'm very happy to have you... by my side.”

Your breath suddenly flies from your lungs and your eyes rise again to the sea of blue around you. The fish, the shark, the coral and the tortoises. It is just like you were once again miles under the sea. 

Your hand goes over your mouth.

You’re speaking with a whale.

“Renata…” Your voice squeaks and your knees shake.

Whale doesn’t understand your words and his confused look brings you back to earth. But you can’t school your expression. You feel like you’re bleeding out and you can’t stop it. Your mind is in a daze of joy and pain. Even though your eyes are swimming with tears, the joy stretches your face into a rapturous smile!

You were swimming free, like the whale in the ocean. You’ve been to the big city. And even though you could no longer hear her voice, you can feel her with you, like a shadow that held the warmth of her hand in yours. Never had it been so strong as now.

“Lost Love?” You look him with this blaze of emotions pouring from your cold dark eyes. “Oh, Whale… there’s no such thing!”

The Whale’s jaw drops. His hand goes limp. The ink brush drops from his hand and falls to the carpet, spraying the ink on his aquamarine shoes.

For a moment, there is silence. And then a wail, like a roar of an injured beast!

The fat man who had greeted you is weeping openly, one arm over his eyes. He’s moaning out something in Japanese that you don’t understand.

Lu Mingfei quietly translates. “That guy's name is Fujiwara Kanousuke. Before he went to The Sea to become a male performer he was a Daiguan-level sumo wrestling star, just shy of rising to the top 'Yokozuna'. His previous girlfriends were all Japanese drama stars, and he was considered a hot and beautiful man in Japan. But then a female fan heard the news that he was getting engaged and desperately jumped to her death. This is the first time he understands how she felt." 

His eyes lower and he falls into silence while the man sobs.

Chu Zihang stands up and wanders away from the group, raising his eyes to watch the sea turtles swimming by.

Whale slammed his fist on the desk and everyone jumped. The cat hisses and flies off his lap in a blur to hide behind the bookcases. “This… this…” He croaked, shaking. Beads of sweat were rolling down his bald head. They moistened his nose and his glasses slipped down his face. “This power… I thought I’d never see it.”

Power…? Your emotions are almost calm but the effort of control has left crescent moon bruises in your aching hands.

“The power to move a man’s heart to action, to reach out and to embrace another woman’s heart, uncontrollably! Yes! YES!”

He leans on the desk, glaring at Caesar, “BasaraKing… I want to keep her here but I cannot accept your offer to make her do something as crass as bidding up fish. I want her to be a challenge to my precious performers! To pour out their love on her to the superlative degree!”

Your eyes widen and you freeze in place. What did that mean?!

Lu Mingfei was equally appalled but as soon as he opened his mouth, Caesar’s hand slapped over it to silence him. “Yes, sir. I’m glad her answer pleased you.”

“I cannot give you an Ikemen persona… you are not Ikemen… no… the opposite. You…”

He pointed a shaking ringed finger at you. “You! Are!”

He swept out his hands and raised his eyes to the ceiling, shouting like an evangelical preacher. “YOU ARE THE MAIN CHARACTER!”