#an enigma of a show truly

[on-this-day-mcr]

On this day, June 6

In 2022: My Chemical Romance performed their fourteenth show of the 2022-2023 Swarm tour in Munich, Germany. At this show, the quote “A cat's rage is beautiful, burning with pure cat flame, all its hair standing up and crackling blue sparks, eyes blazing and sputtering.” from the novella "The Cat Inside" by William S. Burroughs was printed out and taped to the drum kit, alongside a pink heart. (🖤)

Watch the show here!

ᴅᴇᴀᴛᴛʜsᴘᴇʟʟs

[weirdlizard26]

hey why did i spend the entire day watching a show i dislike instead of working on rescuing my deteriorating grades

[hells-wasabii]

hello :33

Could i request a drabble with Alastor x reader who can break deals made by demons

He meets the reader, who comes into the hotel, and they make a deal that is totally bad on their end (like to let them touch his ears once and in return they will do his bidding forever and ever).

But then after getting Alastor to do his part, they break the deal, and Alastor and everyone else is dumbfounded. (he is equally pissed and intrigued)

I looooooove your writing and congratulations on 200 followers!! :3

A/N: Hey wait I know you! You were one of my first followers! Thanks for sending this in, it’s seriously a cool concept and was pretty fun to work on! I actually hadn’t planned on it being so long, but I hope you enjoy!

Character: Alastor

Type: Fic (Alastor x reader with a deal breaking ability, Fluff, Angst)

Alastor knew when he was being watched, he could practically feel your eyes on him from across the room. His smile turned tense as he narrowed his eyes at the little display that Niffty was attempting to show him. Though, she really couldn’t be bothered whether he was paying attention or not. Alastor couldn’t help but wonder: why was it you were staring at him so intently?

You were an enigma to Alastor. You were a guest of the hotel, and yet of you he knew next to nothing other than a name and a knack for mischief. As far as he could tell, you were ordinary. A specimen that did little to pique his interest. The radio demon turned his attention from Niffty’s insect display to look at you from the corner of his eyes. He watched with unease as you smiled knowingly at him, almost as if you knew something that he didn’t and he was the last to be left in the dark.

“I want to make a deal with you.”

Now that, that got his attention. The words had left your mouth so effortlessly. It was barely a whisper and yet it was enough to make his shadow move across the room to tower over you. If you noticed, you didn’t let it show. Perhaps that should have been his first sign that something was amiss.

In moments Alastor was mere inches away, a grin that couldn’t be described as anything else but plotting splitting his lips. “And what is it that I can do for you, my dear?” Behind him, his shadow waited impatiently, hungry for a meal, a soul. And Alastor planned to feed it.

“I want to touch your ears,” You said it with such confidence, so much so that it nearly took him aback. In fact, there was hardly a pause or even a moment of consideration. It sounded more like an impulse than anything else.

Surely he was hearing things. His… Ears? What kind of preposterous request is that? And to offer your soul for such a thing? Preposterous. Surely you had lost your mind before or since your arrival. But perhaps it was an even trade-off, considering his aversion to touch. Truly, he couldn’t see himself losing to a fool’s deal like this.

It was all standard, really. The matter was settled in a shake of the hand, markings and sigils appearing in the air and lining the walls around the both of you. And of course the rest of the Hotel’s residents, guests and staff alike came along to see what the fuss and light show was about. Alastor didn’t make deals every day after all? When had been the last time he had struck a deal for a soul? He could hardly remember as your hand left his.

“Well, let’s get this over with, shall we?” As if you needed any more invitation than that. Stepping closer, you reached up. Had it not been for the fact that the radio demon had no choice but to hold up his end of the bargain, you were sure that getting this close would either reward you with a stern warning or the loss of a limb. Anyone else would have hesitated, but not you. Not when you had an ace up your sleeve the way you did.

The moment that your fingers brushed the appendages on the top of the radio demon’s head, your mouth opened into a fine ‘o’ shape. They were unbelievably soft. Usually, the pelt of a deer is coarse, the hair only smooth when you go with the grain, and prickly when against. But with Alastor, it felt more like fur than the usual coarse hair of a buck. Interesting.

The radio demon did his best to steel himself, unwilling to show any sort of reaction, especially with an audience present. His expression nearly fell as he realized that the rest of the Hotel’s residents were bearing witness to such an embarrassing situation. He made a note to attempt to save face later.

When it was finally over, his smile turned sinister. He relished the feeling of a new leash, a new bond, forming in the palm of his hand. The radio demon couldn’t help but love the way a new wave of power coursed through him He watched with glee as the chain began to form, link by link until it came to an end at the binding around your neck. But you merely smiled. This was his second clue that something was a miss.

He lifted his gaze to follow your hand, as you raised it up to grasp the glowing green bond. He watched as it strained, the shackle and the chain before it shattered in a manner that was not unlike glass. He could feel it, the broken bond. He could feel the power that had just coursed through his veins leave his body.

His lips twitched. His smile nearly fell, in fact, the overlord was certain that if it hadn’t been for the green stitches that appeared as he slipped into his demonic form, he was sure that he would have bared his teeth in a ferocious snarl. Instead, Alastor lost his composure. He reached out to grab ahold of you, but you were already two steps ahead and three out of range of the radio demon.

“What is the meaning of this.” The radio in Alastor’s voice crackled, a grating sound that nearly made you falter.

But you merely grinned, continuing to back away towards the others. “Deals are always meant to be broken.” With this, you turned on your heels and were out the door before more could be said.

You. You were exactly what he needed. But how could he possibly have you do anything in his favor without some sort of leverage or contract? It had been quite some time since someone had provoked his ire like this, but he wouldn’t allow himself to be bested like this. Not by a long shot. Alastor stood tall, dusting off his tattered coat, as if it had been sullied in some form or fashion as he watched you make your leave. It would seem that the radio demon had quite a bit of work to do.

[stellar-skyy]

FAMILY (OF SORTS) — Platonic Fatui Harbingers & reader.

i. SUMMARY: The Fatui Harbingers have a soft spot for Arlecchino's child. ii. CONTENT WARNINGS: None! iii. NOTES: STRICTLY PLATONIC, headcanons, fluff, parent!arlecchino, house of the hearth!reader, all of the harbingers are reader's weird aunts and uncles, gn!reader, they/them pronouns used, 1.6k words. iv. A/N: the fatui are just a dysfunctional found family and i will die on this hill. shoutout to @romaritimeharbor for listening to my rambles about this idea 🫶🫶 also pierro and pulcinella aren't here because i could not think of anything to write for them :')

All of the harbingers knew about Arlecchino’s child; the one that appeared in Fatui Headquarters stuck to her side, eyes cast to the floor. They all saw the way that Arlecchino had held a soft grip on their shoulder, guiding them through the halls with the gentle touch of a parent from the gentle hands of a monster.

The Knave always swore she didn’t play favourites, but from an outside view it was clear that they held a special place separate from the rest. Anyone could see the way they appeared so much more frequently by her side. They were permitted to sit in on meetings, following her like a shadow. Some of the Harbingers guessed that she had picked them to be her successor; that their frequent shadowing was training them to take over once she was gone. Others joked about Arlecchino’s apparent soft side taking over. Whatever the reason, time went on, and the Fatui saw more and more of them.

All of them varied in their opinions of them—some indifferent, some fond—but the Harbingers all cared for them in their own ways.

⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

Columbina simply adores them. They’re just so small and cute, so tiny and fragile! Admittedly, her idea of ‘tiny’ is rather skewed—applying to anyone she deems weaker than her (notably, this label also gets given to Capitano and Tartaglia, despite their larger size and physical strength. The Damselette is truly an enigma.)

Whenever Arlecchino allows her to watch over them, she is delighted. She has a penchant for pet names, so ‘angel’, ‘my sweet’, and ‘lovely’ are all more commonly used than their name. Sometimes there’s a ‘baby’ or ‘bub’ if she’s feeling particularly affectionate, but no matter the name, it is always dripping with sweetness. She’ll sing to them too, to calm them down or get them to sleep. Her voice is gentle, laced with as much love as she would show her own child.

Some Fatui believe Columbina is a woman formed from hollow sweetness; that behind the lazy smile and soft voice, lies a callous and unfeeling heart, but her insistence on singing them to sleep comes from a place of genuine affection.

When they have to return home, she’ll kiss their cheeks and sweep them into a hug, making them promise to visit her soon.

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The fact that Arlecchino would tear out his throat with her bare hands if he dared to look at them the wrong way is the only thing stopping Dottore from roping [Name] into one of his experiments. Even then, he can’t help but investigate them a bit. Nothing extreme—please put the knife down, Knave—just some simple trials to see how they work. A quick strength assessment, a test of their reflexes, enough to judge the effectiveness of the House of the Hearth’s training.

The segments all had different opinions of them, varying from Prime’s general indifference to some of the younger segments fondness towards them. The latter were less likely to try to trick them into the lab—not that Arlecchino would allow them anywhere near it without strict supervision—and instead focused their efforts on convincing them to help mess with the rest of the Dottores. They proved to be an excellent partner in crime to thoroughly ruin the older segment’s day.

Despite his assertion that he won’t harm them, Dottore tends to be the one Arlecchino trusts least around her child. His unwillingness to get on her bad side doesn’t stop her from insisting Columbina or herself accompany them whenever they visit his lab.

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Tartaglia loves them. The days he gets to see his siblings are few and far between, so he’s always eager to play the older brother for them, and for any other House of the Heath kids that stop by. In fact, whenever any of the children visit, he makes sure to buy them plenty of sugary treats and candies before quickly sending them back to their Father.

(Arlecchino was not happy the first time this happened. It didn’t stop him from doing it every time, though.)

He was the first to convince them to call him Uncle, a feat that he bragged about to the rest of the Harbingers. This small incident would inadvertently lead to a petty competition to see who their favourite is, an event that would quickly spiral out of control with bribery and promises coming from all sides.

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Sandrone is very particular with who she allows in her workshop. When the rare guest was allowed inside, they had to follow three simple rules: do not touch anything, do not move unless I tell you to, and do not talk to me while I work. When [Name] first stumbled into the room, she was prepared to discourteously shoo them out the way she did whenever Tartaglia poked his head in to see what she was working on. But after some extensive begging, she relented and sat them down in a corner to watch her work. 

Even if she is far less fond of them as some of the other Harbingers, she still audibly squeaked the first time she was called Aunt Sandrone. This was covered up with a cough, but nothing could stop the warmth blooming in her chest. It was the first time a living creature had addressed her with such a familial title; some of her synthetic creations had a habit of calling her Mother, but this was a living, breathing person.

After they started calling her that, she quietly told them they were free to visit when she was working—provided they did not interfere with anything. 

⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

As much as he denies it, Scaramouche has a big soft spot for kids. He’ll swear up and down that he doesn’t care for them at all, but he treats them noticeably gentler than he treats any other member of the Fatui. Arlecchino once caught them huddled against him, using his wide-brimmed hat to shelter from the rain. She never let him forget that moment—the fearsome Balladeer, who notoriously never let anyone close enough to touch him, allowing her child to use him as an umbrella.

They remind him a little too much of the young boy he once considered his family. Whenever he spends time with them, there is something inside that both urges him to protect them in the way he couldn’t protect that child, and warns keep them at arm’s length before they betray him too. But his endearment towards them prevailed, and he begrudgingly allowed them a place in his heart.

Unlike Columbina’s affectionate pet names, the only nicknames Scaramouche gives them are ‘kid’ and ‘brat’, depending on his mood. On good days, they might even get called by their name, though it is a rarity. He cares for them, truly. In his own, strange way.

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Capitano is the best at giving advice out of all the harbingers. He is much more down to earth than Columbina and Dottore, and far less cynical than Scaramouche and Sandrone. He’ll let them ramble about their frustrations freely before offering gentle suggestions on what they should do to help. Even if they aren’t looking for a solution, he’s patient enough to hear out their thoughts, however jumbled and incoherent they may be.

He also likes teaching them skills he deems important for a young person to know. These include cooking—Tartaglia is not allowed to join them in these lessons after he almost burnt down the kitchen trying to ‘help’—as well as sewing and mending clothes.  

⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

Pantalone never would describe himself as parental. He never cared too much for kids; he hadn’t enough patience to deal with constantly crying babies or needy toddlers. Arlecchino’s child was thankfully far above that age, so they were less unbearable to deal with.

He was quite happy to spoil them with extravagant gifts and treats to win their favour, but the most effective way he does so is simply spending time with them. Trips to luxurious restaurants for lunch, allowing them to shadow him while he works. He also likes to give them advice—completely unasked for—about life, and relationships. Unlike Capitano however, his advice is of a much less helpful; he has a habit of advocating for blackmail for solving problems.

In exchange for a box of the most expensive pastries in Teyvat, he got them to call him their favourite uncle in front of Tartaglia. The miniscule dent in his funds was worth the look of betrayal on the younger Harbinger’s face.

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Signora easily took the longest to warm up to them. When she first met them, it was easy enough to label them as Arlecchino’s brat and move them from her mind. But they kept appearing, in and around the headquarters. At first they were always glued to the Knave’s side, but eventually Signora began to see them wandering alone through the halls. She took note of them—not out of any attachment to them, only out of self-preservation knowing that if Arlecchino found out her child landed themself into trouble while she was close by, it would be her funeral soon.

The sense of obligation faltered when she started to grow fond of them. They were irritatingly innocent, a rarity within the Fatui. Something about the spark in their eyes reminded her of when she was young—when she still had warmth in her heart and blood in her veins. For the first time in centuries, her frozen heart began to thaw with care towards another person, and begrudgingly, she began to accept that they were not as unpleasant as she once believed.

reblogs and comments are appreciated! ♡

[tarotwithavi]

You from the eyes of your future lover/future spouse

Read part 1 here

How to choose a pile?

Take a deep breath and close your eyes. Kindly ask your spirit guides to show you the right pile for yourself and then open your eyes. Whichever pile catches your attention is the right pile for you.

For my female audience , I'll be using she/her pronouns in this post.

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Pile 1

When I'm with her, I feel an overwhelming sense of strength and confidence, as if I could conquer any challenge that comes my way. She embodies everything that brings me joy and fulfillment. Being in her presence makes me feel like the luckiest person in the world because I have her by my side. Her mere existence has the power to make my wildest dreams a reality. Not only does she inspire me to reach for the stars, but she also motivates me to become a better version of myself. Her influence pushes me to strive for greatness in all aspects of life. Just knowing that she is there for me, supporting me, and believing in me, helps me heal wounds that were never caused by her. Her presence alone has a transformative effect on my well-being, bringing me solace and restoration. If her love were poison, I would willingly drink it without hesitation or remorse. Such is the depth of my devotion and the extent to which I value her affection. I yearn to be of assistance to her, to be a reliable pillar she can lean on. I aspire to be her rock, her unwavering support, providing comfort and strength whenever she needs it. Being with her fills me with an indescribable sense of empowerment and joy. She is my beacon of happiness, encouraging me to strive for greatness and inspiring me to become the best version of myself. Her love and presence heal me in ways I never thought possible, and I am eager to reciprocate by being her steadfast support and ally.

Pile 2

Describing her is a challenging task, for she possesses a depth that transcends the confines of ordinary words. She carries an aura that attracts wealth and prosperity wherever she ventures, as if they were faithful companions by her side. From a distance, she appears strong and bold, yet I sense a vulnerable little girl hiding within her, fearful of the harshness this world can wield. She has distanced herself from those around her, for nobody has truly comprehended her essence. No one has made an earnest effort to unravel the intricate puzzle of her being. My deepest desire is to be the one who unravels that enigma, the person who embraces the challenge of understanding her complexities. I yearn to discover every missing piece and gently place it in its rightful position, completing the beautiful picture that is her. I want to penetrate the walls she has built, to listen to her unspoken fears and insecurities, and to offer solace and understanding. By becoming the person who comprehends her deepest self, I hope to bridge the gap between her and the world that often fails to perceive her true nature. I want to be the companion who supports her unconditionally, providing comfort and encouragement as she navigates through life's labyrinth. It is my aspiration to create an environment where she can fully express herself, knowing that she is truly seen, heard, and appreciated.

Pile 3

The moment our eyes met, I was immediately captivated by her essence, as if an invisible force had bound my heart to hers. Prior to meeting her, I had been skeptical of love at first sight, dismissing it as a mere romantic notion. However, in her presence, all doubts were washed away by the sheer brilliance of her beauty. She has bewitched me completely, leaving no room for retreat. Even if her allure leads to my demise, I would embrace it willingly, for the privilege of experiencing her presence outweighs any consequences. Her presence has an intoxicating effect on me, causing me to lose my composure in the most enchanting way. It is as if she holds the power to unravel the layers of my soul, igniting a fire within me that I cannot control. My hands yearn to touch her, to explore every corner of her body, as if searching for an uncharted territory that only she possesses. Every flaw she may perceive within herself, I view as perfect imperfections, enhancing her unique beauty and making her all the more irresistible. Words fail to fully express the depth of my admiration for her. She is a work of art, a masterpiece without blemish in my eyes. I am eager to shower her with praise, to extol every facet of her being, and to make her feel cherished beyond measure. In her presence, I find myself stripped of pretenses and laid bare, drawn to her like a moth to a flame. It is an indescribable sensation, this all-consuming affection, where reason and logic are overshadowed by an overwhelming desire to be closer to her. She has become the center of my universe, a gravitational force pulling me toward her. To love her is to lose myself willingly, surrendering to the magnetic power she holds over me.

[herlondonboy]

so this is love, clarisse la rue

summary: based on this request.

warnings: a tiny bit of angst, happy ending.

wc: 1.7k

a/n: it’s been a long time coming… this was supposed to come out on valentine’s day!!!

you and clarisse la rue couldn't be more different. you're the embodiment of affection, always wearing your heart on your sleeve, while clarisse is as closed off as a fortress, her emotions locked away behind thick stone walls. it's a paradoxical pairing, one that has left your friends and acquaintances scratching their heads in confusion, unable to comprehend why someone as warm and open as you would be drawn to someone as cold and distant as clarisse.

but for you, it's not about logic or reason—it's about the inexplicable pull of attraction, the magnetic force that drew you to clarisse from the moment you met. maybe it was her piercing gaze, her wit, or the way she carried herself with an air of unapproachable confidence. whatever it was, you found yourself falling for her, despite the warnings from those around you.

your relationship with clarisse is a constant push and pull, a delicate dance between your affectionate nature and her guarded demeanor. you shower her with love and attention, hoping to chip away at the walls she's built around herself, while she remains stoic and aloof, seemingly unaffected by your displays of affection.

it's a source of frustration for you, constantly trying to break through to clarisse, to show her that your love is genuine and unwavering. you write her love letters, leave little surprises for her, and whisper sweet nothings in her ear, hoping that one day she'll let you in and share her innermost thoughts and feelings with you.

but clarisse remains elusive, her walls seemingly impenetrable. she deflects your advances with a sharp wit and a sly smile, keeping you at arm's length even as you long to hold her close. it's a cycle of longing and rejection, of hope and disappointment, that threatens to tear you apart.

your friends don't understand why you continue to pursue clarisse, unable to see past the surface to the complex, multi-faceted person she truly is. they question her motives, doubt the sincerity of her feelings, and wonder aloud why you bother with someone who seems so indifferent to your affections.

but you know the truth. you see glimpses of vulnerability in clarisse, moments of tenderness that she tries so hard to conceal. you sense the turmoil beneath her cool exterior, the inner struggle between the walls she's built and the desire to let someone in.

and so you persevere, refusing to give up on clarisse despite the obstacles that stand in your way. you believe in the power of love to conquer all, to bridge the divide between two seemingly incompatible souls. and as you continue to walk this tumultuous path with clarisse by your side, you hold onto hope that one day, she'll let down her guard and open her heart to you completely, allowing you to finally understand the enigma that is clarisse la rue.

the atmosphere in the mess hall of camp half-blood was unusually quiet as you and jamie, your best friend, sat alone at one of the tables, the sounds of clattering dishes and distant chatter fading into the background. you stirred your food absently, lost in thought, while jamie fidgeted nervously across from you, his brow furrowed with concern.

"y/n, can i ask you something?" jamie finally spoke up, breaking the silence that had settled between you.

you looked up, meeting his gaze with a wary expression. "sure, jamie. what's on your mind?"

he hesitated for a moment, as if gathering his thoughts before speaking. "i've been meaning to ask you about clarisse," he began, his tone cautious. "i don't mean to pry, but i can't help but wonder... why are you two even dating?"

the question hit you like a ton of bricks, catching you off guard and leaving you momentarily speechless. you felt a surge of insecurity rising within you, the familiar doubts and fears bubbling to the surface.

"i mean, no offense," jamie continued, his voice gentle but probing. "but you're so affectionate and open, and clarisse... well, she's not exactly the warmest person around. it just doesn't seem like a good, healthy match, you know?"

his words struck a nerve, dredging up all the doubts and insecurities you'd been trying to push aside. you knew jamie meant well, but hearing him of all people voice your innermost fears only made them feel more real, more insurmountable.

you opened your mouth to respond, to defend your relationship and explain why you and clarisse were meant to be together, but the words caught in your throat. how could you explain something you barely understood yourself? how could you justify your love for someone who seemed so fundamentally different from you in every way?

instead, you fell silent, staring off into the distance as if searching for answers in the swirling depths of your own mind. you felt exposed, vulnerable, as if jamie had peeled back the layers of your carefully constructed facade and laid bare the truth for all to see.

"i... i don't know," you finally admitted, your voice barely a whisper as you struggled to find the words. "i guess i just... care about her, you know? despite everything."

“does she care about you?” he asked, making you flinch at his tone. jamie's expression softened, his earlier intensity replaced by a pang of remorse as he realized the impact of his words. "i'm sorry, y/n," he said, his tone sincere. "i didn't mean to upset you. i just... worry about you, that's all."

you managed a weak smile, grateful for jamie's concern even as the doubts continued to gnaw at your insides. "it's okay, jamie," you reassured him, though the words felt hollow on your lips. "i appreciate you looking out for me."

and with that, the moment passed, the tension dissipating like a wisp of smoke in the air. but as you sat there in the quiet of the mess hall, the questions lingered, echoing in the recesses of your mind like a haunting refrain. and though you tried to push them away, to bury them beneath the facade of contentment, you knew that jamie's words had struck a chord, igniting a spark of doubt that refused to be extinguished.

-

the next day dawned with a clarity that mirrored the turmoil swirling within you. as you sat across from clarisse in the mess hall, the events of the previous evening weighed heavily on your mind, casting a shadow over the once familiar surroundings.

you watched clarisse, her expression unreadable as she picked at her breakfast, lost in her own thoughts. the silence between you stretched on, thick and suffocating, until you couldn't bear it any longer.

"i love you, clarisse," you finally blurted out, the words tumbling from your lips before you could stop them.

the whole hall went silent.

clarisse looked up, her eyes meeting yours with a guarded intensity. for a moment, you held your breath, waiting for her response, but all she did was nod, her expression betraying nothing.

you felt a surge of frustration welling up within you, a desperate need for validation, for reassurance that your love was reciprocated. but as clarisse remained silent, her stoic facade unyielding, you realized with a sinking heart that your words had fallen on deaf ears.

with a heavy sigh, you pushed back your chair and stood up, the sound echoing through the cavernous hall like a thunderclap. clarisse watched you, her brow furrowed in confusion, as you made your way towards the exit.

"where are you going?" she called after you, her voice tinged with concern.

you stopped in your tracks, the weight of her question hanging in the air between you. you turned to face her, your heart heavy with resignation.

"away," you replied, your voice barely a whisper. "i don't want to be with someone who won't tell me they love me back."

and with that, you turned on your heel and left, the sound of your footsteps echoing through the empty hall as you disappeared into the morning light. behind you, you could feel clarisse's eyes on your retreating figure, a frown marring her usually impassive features, but you didn't look back.

and though your heart ached with the pain of loss, you knew that sometimes, the hardest decisions were the ones that set you free.

the sun had began to dip low in the sky by the time you found yourself by the archery range, the familiar twang of bowstrings and the thud of arrows hitting their targets providing a soothing backdrop to your thoughts. you were lost in contemplation, the events of the morning replaying in your mind like a broken record, when you heard the sound of footsteps approaching from behind.

turning around, you saw clarisse striding towards you, her expression a mixture of determination and apprehension. you braced yourself for what was to come, unsure of what to expect as she drew nearer.

"did you break up with me?" clarisse blurted out, her voice tinged with disbelief.

you shrugged, unable to meet her gaze as you wrestled with your own conflicting emotions. "i don't know," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "maybe."

clarisse's eyes widened in shock, her features contorted with a mixture of confusion and hurt. without a word, she reached out and grabbed your arm, dragging you away from the archery range and towards a secluded spot by the edge of the woods.

once you were alone, she turned to face you, her eyes searching yours for answers. "y/n, i'm sorry," she began, her voice tinged with regret. "i know i haven't been the most... open person, and i understand if that's been hard for you. but please, don't leave me. i may not say it often, but i do love you. more than anything."

her words hung in the air between you, heavy with the weight of years of unspoken emotions. you felt a surge of warmth spreading through you, a sense of relief and longing that you couldn't ignore.

with a grin, you closed the distance between you and clarisse, cupping her face in your hands as you leaned in to kiss her. it was a tender, passionate kiss, fueled by the unspoken words and unspoken emotions that had hung between you for so long.

and as you stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, you knew that despite the challenges and uncertainties that lay ahead, you were exactly where you were meant to be—with the person you loved, by your side.

[culxiaa-fn]

[An Enigma]

The Ramshackle Dorm prefect is an enigma, a fool and many others. But one thing that the First Years student of Night Raven College agrees is, the prefect is someone to be cautious of.

(gn!reader)

[Note: gender neutral reader, but well this is the point of view of NRC students(not the main cast). Also English is not my first language, so forgive me for the error. ]

---masterlist---

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

HEARTSLABYUL

For Heartslabyul members their dormleader is a tyrant, short temper, unreasonable, unapproachable and a ticking bomb.

Any moment the bomb can go off, you need to be cautious to approach lest you accidentally trigger it.

For this person not afraid to question and goes against his ridiculous rules is... Amazing yet foolish.

To them, Riddle's collar is a hindrance to them. They block the user magic, truly a frightening unique magic to have. But to the Prefect, it's nothing but a heavy fancy collar.

They saw it, a rebellion they said, the prefect and that Trappola guy, questioning and even fighting with that leader.

They lost though, well not a surprise, he is the one that won after challenging the previous dorm leader for that position.

Even after the whole conflict is settled, Riddle is still a frightening figure to be near, the clicking of his high hills is enough to strike a fear into the Heartslabyul members.

For this person to casually talk and tease the dormleader, truly, it takes a huge courage.

To then the prefect is a fool and courageous. An enigma.

SAVANACLAW

The majority of the Savanaclaw members are beastmen. Full of carnivorous animals.

They live by the rules of nature, the strongest is the leader.

To them, Leona Kingscholar is an untouchable leader. A ruthless one to add.

No one dares to challenge him, that is why the dorm didn't have a vice leader. A king that rules the kingdom by himself.

So when this puny herbivore decides to waltz into the beast's territory they thought, what a foolish person.

Yet that foolish person manages to blackmail convince their leader to help them against that slimy Octovinelle dormleader, they thought, what a bold person.

One shouldn't touch a Lion's possession. When one of the courageous egoist members dares to touch the Lion's possession, well let's say it won't end well.

To receive a glare from Leona that is across the room is... Frightening experience. No one dares to play with death after all.

It's fair to question their relationship really, the King doesn't seem like he is protecting or spoiling the herbivore, yet he didn't allow anyone to get closer to them. Is he waiting for the right moment to attack maybe?

Yet the sight of him relaxing with them under the tree seems like an unusual behavior for a hunter.

A wonder. An enigma.

OCTAVINELLE

Azul Ashengrotto is a mastermind and a manipulator. And that is not secret to everyone.

He got everything under his control. What a terrifying person. No one in Octavinelle dares to question him, after all they know, he will guarantee success with any of his plans.

One step you take, Azul already took 5 steps ahead. A game that you can't win.

Every word and action has to be properly calculated, lest you fall into his traps. But Azul is a Mastermind, what he wants, he will get.

Yet this magicless student that has nothing on their names manages to pique his interest. What a terrifying situation to be in.

Octavinelle students think that the Ramshackle Prefect is a fool, like a fish swimming too close to the shore, like a mermaid trying to pretend as a human. A terrible and dumb action.

Who in this world,wants to be close to Azul. Tiring when you have to be aware of every word you say, every action you take.

Yet for this person to be so relaxed with the master of manipulation, do they have no fear? Or simply do they have nothing to lose?

A question really, well not like they will voice it out loud, the fact that one magicless person can reign in Floyd, is enough of a reason for them to show an ounce of respect to them.

Well, reign is a bold word no? Truth to be told whatever that prefect are, manage to keep Floyd's attention to them. Every time they are in the same room Floyd only focuses on them. A win for them, no one really wants to have that beast attention on them.

To Octavinelle the prefect is a person that is worth observing, an enigma.

SCARABIA

Unlike other dorms, Scarabia's dormleader is sunshine, kind and a fresh sight for a school like NRC.

He didn't rule tyrantly like heartslabyul, didn't strike a fear like Savanaclaw and you don't need to be cautious when interacting with him.

So when a friend and classmate are from a different dorm advice not to get too close to be prefect, they are confused.

Their dormleader is very welcoming and talkative, so it's not weird to see him converse with the prefect.

But when the drama with their vice leader happens they catch a glimpse of why their friends from other dorms said the prefect is scary.

For them, to outsmart the close to perfection, Jamil Viper, truly a magnificent and terrifying person.

Although the conflict is settled with the help of the Octavinelle trio, the prefect still is a major key in it.

But for them to still converse with Jamil happily after Jamil imprisoned them in the room for a while.

Maybe, just a little, they will be cautious with them too.

A person worth to be cautious of. An enigma.

POMEFIORE

When you think of the word "beautiful" Vil Schoenheit comes to mind. His beauty is otherworldly.

Vil is like a rose, his beauty is to be admired from afar, too close and you will get prick by his thorn.

While Vil is stern, he is not as scary as the other dormleader. He is approachable at least, the least you get from him is scolding for not wearing your uniform properly.

But Vil is Pomefiore's dorm leader. In order to achieve that title they have to make the most potent poison out of all their peers.

And that alone is scary.

And for this person to be so close to Vil Schoenheit is... Foolish.

At first Vil seems kind of indifferent to them, just exist is what they like to describe.

Yet after the VDC, Their untouchable beauty seems to spoil them a little. A high brand of tea, a new set of clothing, a suitable color makeup, a new skin care. Seems like the prefect strike an interest in Vil.

From a person existing to a person that gets scolded by Vil to take care of their beauty makes you wonder who exactly is the prefect.

Not to mention, their huntsman called them a trickster, for you to earn that kind of nickname from him.

And for them to be surrounded by their top beauty, to strike an interest in their poisonous queen. To achieve such a title from their huntsman. Maybe they are worthy to stand and observe.

To Pomefiore's members, the prefect is worthy to admire. An enigma.

IGNIHYDE

Ignihyde is a dorm that is full of introverts. Popular people are to avoid, lest they accidentally trigger a long tiring world quest.

The Ramshackle Prefect is among the top names of individuals to avoid at all cost.

A mysterious magicless student with their card soldier and a fire raccoon.

Everywhere they go, it attracts attention, no mystery, after all, all of the overblot incidents somehow they are involved in it.

To be well acquainted with the dorm leaders, and close enough to joke around with them.

Everywhere they go seems like troubles will follow, an introvert nightmare. And it seems like their dorm leader agrees too.

A person that is to be observed from a far. An individual that you can only see in news and newspapers.

Yet, after the attack at their school, it appears that their dorm leader is not entirely a person they thought he was. Their presence in their dorm is getting frequented. Although most of the time they only come for Ortho.

Some of the students that are more familiar with... Data collecting, tried to search for something about them. Family lineage, medical history, birth place, ethnic, a simple date of birth, yet they come up empty hand.

Is it because they are protected?? Surely not, even Kingscholar and Draconia have some sort of information on the internet.

Like a ghost, they appear and make their presence known, and like a ghost they disappear without a trace.

To Ignihyde members, the Ramshackle's prefect is worth researching more. An enigma.

DIASOMNIA

A fool

There is a saying that said, Ignorance is a bliss. Perhaps this was the case of the Ramshackle's prefect??

Yet it doesn't seem like it.

Their Vice leader seems like he adored them. Sometimes inviting them to Diasomnia dorm or asking the two knights to pass on a message.

And they seem to be close with THE Malleus Draconia. Although in the presence of other people they called him "Malleus-senpai". Yet sometimes you can catch a slip of tongue, "Tsunotaro" much to Sebek's dismay. What a disrespectful nickname to call the heir of the Valley of Thorns.

Although the fae only chuckles and seems to not mind it. Maybe enjoy it a bit.

Of course Diasomnia students know who the prefect is. Like a curse, all sorts of trouble follows them everywhere they go. They often become the subject of a talk in that school.

The Ramshackle's prefect challenge the tyrant rulers in a duel with their friends.

The Ramshackle's Prefect poke an irritated lion.

The prefect, The Ramshackle's this and that, truly they are full of Misfortune.

When some foolish members try to cast a curse a spelled on them, the spell did not affect them at all. It looks like they have a protective spell surrounding them.

It appears Lilia is quite protective over them too, well at least in Lilia's own way.

And the Dragon? Well... You shouldn't touch a dragon's treasure.

For a magicless student to attract the attention of all this beast. Truly Diasomnia students don't know if it's a blessing or a curse.

For Diasomnia students, the Ramshackle's prefect is a walking misfortune, to be avoided. Yet they can't help but think they are an enigma.

[braimin]

The crew gets weirded out by Zoro’s mild obsession with his not-boyfriend every so often, but seeing Sanji’s is down right creepy sometimes.

Like for someone who used to complain so much about Zoro acting like an animal he’s sure changed his tune. Sanji still complains about stuff obviously, but now it’s accompanied by a little smile or a dreamy sigh and Usopp gags every time he has to hear it.

Luffy and Zoro rough house all. the. time. So usually when they come in for lunch they’re both all sweaty and gross when Sanji tells him he stinks Zoro will grab him and rub his sweat all over him. He screams and kicks the idiot, but Zoro is able to grab him every time even though Sanji could definitely block him before he got anywhere near him.

Nami is like ‘If someone ever did that to me, I think I would actually have to kill them.’ And Usopp is like ‘Love must be smell blind too cause there’s no way I could handle that smell up close.’

Every now and then Sanji will walk around in Zoro’s clothes. The crew can tell it’s his shirt under whatever goofy Hawaiian shirt he’s wearing cause it still has that signature Zoro stench on it. It truly is an enigma that Sanji can not only handle it, but enjoy that smell.

Zoro gives him gifts that are Not gifts to anyone that isn’t Sanji. A lot of it is food based, like a fish he caught that he doesn’t think Sanji has ever gotten to cook before. He also brings him different types of tobacco that smell good. And there’s random blade oils he thinks Sanji would like for his kitchen knifes. But more often than not it’s gifts a kid would give to their crush or something. Like he brings him cool rocks or sea shells he finds and he’s even brought Sanji a couple weird looking sticks cause he thinks it’ll make Sanji laugh. He does.

He’ll gush about whatever it is that Zoro has found to Usopp and he just responds like ‘Wow.. what a nice rock. How romantic.’ Sanji doesn’t care if it’s sincere or not he just likes showing off the things Zoro gets him. There’s a collection of shells and rocks tucked away safely in his locker and sometimes the boys will find Sanji looking at them and sighing all sweet.

Sometimes he gets jealous of Zoro’s swords too. The man sleeps with them and always has his hand relaxed on them when he’s standing. He does more for those three blades than he does for Sanji and that pisses him off a bit, even if he knows how irrational it is. The rest of the crew is like ‘Dude. They’re inanimate objects. It’s not like he’ll break up with you to marry them or something.’ And Sanji is just sitting there glaring at them like ‘He just might. You never know with that Marimo.’ Everyone else is like okay weirdo.

[janeyseymour]

Fix This Mess Before You Lose Me

hello! an anon asked for this!

summary: your harbored feelings for a certain redhead make themselves known. she flat out rejects you, but she realizes how egregiously she's screwed up once you start distancing yourself from her. she has to fix this mess.

WC: ~3.95k

You’ve been working at Willard R. Abbott Elementary for the last… three years. And genuinely, you love teaching here. 

The kids are… well, they’re kids. They have their moments of being little shits, as all kids are from time to time, but they have a rich appreciation for what you teachers provide, and they understand just how hard you all work to keep them afloat. You go above and beyond to make sure that they are well cared for both inside and outside of the school, and that does not get past them. You’ve had kids tell you that you are their hero, that you’re like a second parent to them, that they hope to be like you when you grow up. You know you made the right choice teaching in an underfunded district and area because you are genuinely making the biggest difference in some of these kiddos’ lives- and that is all you could’ve ever hoped for. 

But aside from the kids, you absolutely adore your colleagues. Ava, although she’s always up to some sort of shenanigans that you have to help get her out of, truly does what she thinks is best for these kids- even if it’s not necessarily something you would take out of the principal handbook. Mr. Johnson, one of history’s biggest enigmas as far as you and most of your coworkers are concerned, is a giant part of Abbott’s history and culture. Jacob Hill, the dorky middle grades teacher who has somehow made his way into the elementary group, is always the first to offer you something when you aren’t feeling well- as long as it’s natural and herbal. Gregory Eddie, although perhaps the most quiet of the group, has a kind soul and shows you that he cares for you rather than speaking it. Janine Teagues, the upbeat second grade teacher who practically bounces everywhere she goes, is always so excited to see you and makes you feel seen and heard. Barbara Howard, perhaps the classiest lady that you have ever met, is always there to pick you up when you need it. And Melissa Schemmenti? While she loves to give off that she is a hard ass, mob-like woman, she has a heart of gold underneath all of the leather and eyeliner. She made you prove yourself upon signing your contract with the district, but once she deemed you worthy, you were stuck to her like glue. She makes sure you are well fed (providing you with a homemade Schemmenti meal almost every day), she is always asking if you need any copies made (under the guise of getting Ashley out of her room), there’s always a fresh cup of coffee for you when you need it (she’ll always claim that she needed it too, just a coincidence), and you genuinely think that if it came to it she would take a bullet for you.

If you’re being really honest with yourself, you find yourself attracted to the second grade teacher that you share a wall with. Sure, she’s hot as hell- you can’t deny that- but what you’re really attracted to is her personality. You love when you both have your doors open and you can hear her praising her students. You love when you both come out and simply stand next to each other, both with steaming hot mugs of coffee in your hands, to greet your children in the morning. You swoon when she leans against your doorframe and knocks with her signature knock to get your attention during prep periods. It’s the way that she always seems to know when you need a break, because she can hear the tension in your voice when one of your kids is testing you, and she comes over to ‘ask for a cup of coffee’ and tells you that she’ll stand in between both doorframes if you wouldn’t mind running down and getting it for her. You love the way that she is fiercely protective over those who are in her circle, and you are included in that.

So yeah, it’s safe to say that the feelings that you harbor for the fiery redheaded second grade teacher are quite strong. And for the most part, she seems to reciprocate them. The relationship that the two of you have isn’t at all like her and Barbara, who are like two peas in a pod and are as Ava puts it, “heterosexual work wives for life”. It isn’t the like her relationship with Janine in the way that she is like the chaotic wine aunt with Barbara being Janine’s mother. She’s much like Jacob’s aunt too. And it isn’t like her relationship with Gregory, which you don’t see much of but you know is a strong one. It’s more… domestic, soft, loving.

And it’s gotten to a point that you see her outside of school now too- she enjoys going shopping with you- something that she apparently only used to do with Barbara. You and the redhead lesson plan together at local coffee shops because you’re on the same team, but those coffee shop dates never have Janine involved despite the fact that she’s also on your team. She loves making dinner with you while the two of you split a bottle of wine. 

And that’s exactly where you’re at now: on her front step, clad in a pair of joggers and a frumpy jean jacket with a bottle of champagne in your hand to celebrate the fact that you were both able to complete your report cards for the marking period in time. There are butterflies in your stomach as she opens the door, and you can’t help but smile as she wears an outfit that is similar to yours.

“Hey, hun,” she smiles at you as she nods her head. Her eyes go up and down at your figure. “C’mon in. I have the stroganoff started, so all you have to do is sit your pretty little self down while I make you a fantastic meal.”

You playfully roll your eyes at her comment but follow her inside. She sets the champagne flutes next to you as you expertly pop it and pour the glasses. You raise yours up, as does she.

“To a weekend of no grading and worrying about getting report cards in,” you sigh happily.

“To us,” is all she says, but it makes your heart absolutely melt.

She finishes up dinner while the two of you chat about your days and the absolutely ridiculous things that your kids said and did today.

(“Dylan said, ‘Oh, what the fuck?’ when he was trying to read his book and sounding out the word wasn’t helping,” you snort.

“You think that’s bad?” Melissa turns to you. “Kenneth decided he needed a haircut as we were packing up. It’s a miracle I got home in time to make dinner.”)

It’s plated before you know it, and the meal in front of you smells absolutely delicious. Once you’ve both cleared your plates, you find yourself on the couch again- the one that you got her to finally take the ridiculously uncomfortable plastic cover off of- as she feeds you cannolis.

It’s so warm and soft… and with the bit of liquid courage that you have from the champagne, you lean in and kiss her.

But when you expect her to kiss back, she doesn’t. You pull away, and she’s frozen, eyes wide with shock.

“Y/N?”

“I-” you blush. “I thought that- I- I have feelings for you, and I thought that with everything that we’ve been doing, you had feelings for me, and I- I’m sorry. I guess I misinterpreted.”

“Uh, yeah,” she states rather bluntly. “You did.”

You sigh and stand. “I’ll see myself out.”

“No, hun, you don’t have-”

“No, I know when my presence isn’t wanted or when I need to head out, and now is one of those moments,” you state as you grab your things and practically run for the door. You close it and are in your car before she can do anything. She’s about to reach for the door knob when she sees you peel out of her driveway.

You don’t know how you make it home. It’s pouring buckets outside, and the tears that started to fall once you pulled out of your coworker’s driveway only continue to flow. You curl up in bed after mixing yourself a rather strong drink, and you cry. You mourn the loss of a wonderful friendship and a rejection from possibly the most beautiful person on the planet.

You spend the weekend in bed, ignoring any and all communication from the outside world- including the text from Melissa apologizing for her reaction, and she hopes nothing changes between the two of you.

Come Monday, you entirely pull back, changing your morning routines as much as you hate to do that. You do not want to have to see the second grade teacher who practically laughed in your face when you told her you had feelings for her. You show up to work as early as possible, throw your lunch in the refrigerator and head out as soon as you can to just narrowly avoid the redhead. You forgo hanging out in the staff lounge to catch up on some work that you would usually do in the comfort of Melissa’s home while she makes you dinner. You keep your door closed and your lights off while you prepare for the students, and when it’s time for them to start trickling in is when you finally open your door. You usually stand outside your door to greet your kids, but doing that means you would see the woman that you are actively avoiding- so you stay inside. You don’t dare to head out of your classroom until you see her class pass you for special, and then when you make your way back to your classroom, you close and lock the door. During your lunch period, you absolutely book it in and out of the room, acting as though you’re on the phone to avoid any sort of confrontation from the other teachers. And you’re out of the building at the end of the day before anyone can find you or say anything.

“Have you seen Y/N?” Barbara asks her best friend.

“No,” the redhead shrugs. “She’s been pretty out of sight today.” She isn’t willing to admit just yet that she’s the reason you are avoiding everyone. She isn’t ready for the speech that Barbara will no doubt give her about how she should’ve been more sensitive towards you and your feelings- she’s well aware that she didn’t handle the situation properly. She also knows that sometimes you need a day when your feelings are too big for your body to handle. So she doesn’t seek you out. 

She half-expects you to show up at dinner that night, and she does end up making extra in case you do show. You don’t. For the first time on a Monday in a long time, she ends up eating dinner alone. And it’s… not a pleasant feeling. She finds that she misses being able to decompress with you like she usually does. She really misses it.

Melissa has a half a mind to text you, but you hadn’t answered her text over the weekend. She doubts you’ll answer this one.

Still, she sends, Missed having you over for dinner tonight.

You see that text and wonder why she’s taunting you. She rejected you, especially the way that she did, and she still expected you over for dinner? You knew she was crazy, but not that crazy. 

That week passes, and you do everything in your power to avoid her and her friends. It just hurts too much. 

Finally, the following week, Janine seeks you out while you’re putting your lunch away- or rather, she stumbles upon you. She has her hands filled, but that doesn’t stop her from smiling in your direction.

“Hey, Y/N!” the second grade teacher that didn’t reject you grins. “Where have you been lately?”

You shrug. “Just have a lot of stuff going on at the moment.”

“Well, when it starts to dwindle down, you should really start hanging out with us again! We miss you and all the spunk you bring to the group.”

You have to laugh at that. You don’t know what spunk she’s talking about. You hardly say anything when you’re with them because you can’t get a word in between her and Jacob. You mostly just take it all in, and occasionally you add a snarky comment, getting head nods of approvals or full out belly laughs from the two veteran teachers that you used to love spending time with. 

“Yeah,” you hum noncommittally. You know you won’t ever be a part of that group again. “Well, I gotta go get some work done.”

Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday pass as the prior week had for you. But on Wednesday, as you’re leaving, Barbara corners you.

“Sweetheart, where on Earth have you been?”

“Busy,” you tell her quietly as you continue to gather your various bags. 

She raises a brow. “Doing?”

“Schoolwoork really started piling up on me,” you say softly. “And I’ve been applying to graduate schools… and other jobs.”

“Other jobs?” she asks you, clearly shocked. “I thought you loved it here.”

“I do,” you mumble. “But I don’t know how much longer I can work here.”

“And why would that be?”

You purse your lips, but you don’t respond. You just simply give her a shrug of your shoulders as you avoid eye contact.

“Y/N, can I tell you what I’ve been observing?” at your nod, she continues. “Something happened last weekend… between you and Melissa, I’m assuming?”

You nod slowly.

“So you’ve been avoiding all of us,” the kindergarten teacher states. “Because you believe that we are Melissa’s friends and not yours. You assume that leaving her alone and distancing yourself from her will be better than continuing on as you have.”

Again, you nod.

“But what I’ve observed from my work wife is that she’s angry. She’s upset that you’re avoiding her. She misses you.”

“Maybe she shouldn’t have laughed in my face when I told her I had feelings for her,” you mutter, not thinking the veteran teacher heard you. You clear your throat before speaking more clearly. “I’m sorry- I’ve just been busy. I haven’t been avoiding her.”

“You have, and we both know it,” Barbara clicks her tongue. “She and I spoke about what happened at lunch today, and-”

“She told the group?”

“She only told me when I cornered her to ask her why you haven’t been around and why she’s been pitching a damn fit at Janine lately.”

“What do you mean she’s pitching a fit at Janine?” you furrow a brow.

Barbara smirks and crosses her arms over her chest. “It means that Janine mentioned talking to you the other day, and Melissa is jealous she caught you before she could.”

“She can get over it,” you sigh. “I have to go, Barb. Have a nice night.” You brush past her as she flounders for her words, and then she’s heading into Melissa’s room.

“Why did you reject her?” Barbara asks softly.

Melissa shrugs. “I- I’m me… I’m a none-your-business year old woman, and she’s so young. She’s gorgeous- and I know I tell everyone I’m a Philly eleven, but you and I both know that’s me hiding my insecurities about my looks and body. I just… if I thought if I gave into my feelings for her and then she left, I would be a wreck- it’s just not worth the risk.”

“Tell me something,” the kindergarten teacher asks. “Do you really think she would leave you? That girl practically worships the ground that you walk on and follows you around with puppy dog eyes.”

“I don’t know,” the redhead sighs quietly. “I just… don’t have much to offer. She has the rest of her life ahead of her to settle down, get married, have kids if she wants. I can only offer her two of those things.”

“I know for a fact Y/N isn’t deadset on getting married or having kids, and I know she would want to settle down with you,” Barbara tuts. “I think she’s worth the risk for you, Melissa. And if you don’t come to a conclusion quick, you may lose her anyway and be a wreck anyway.”

“I don’t know,” the second grade teacher mumbles. “All I’ll tell you is if you don’t act quick, she’s going to transfer, and you’ll lose her forever.” And then Barb turns on her heel and exits the classroom. “Think about it!” she calls over her shoulder.

Of course, those words throw Melissa for a loop. The redhead doesn’t want to lose you forever. She grabs her bags and books it to her car. She knows what she has to do. She stops at the wine store and picks up your favorite bottle before heading to the grocery store and picking up a beautiful bouquet of flowers. She’s pulling up to your townhouse before she knows it. With shaking hands, she grabs the flowers and wine and knocks on your front door. 

You open it, not quite sure who to expect- it might be Barbara, it could even just be the mailman. But no. It’s Melissa.

You sniffle quietly, refusing to make eye contact with her. “You come to laugh in my face some more?”

“No,” she says softly as she holds out the flowers and wine for you. “I came to apologize and grovel, and beg you to stop avoiding me.”

“I’m not avoiding you,” you sigh as you lean against the door, folding your arms over you chest- you won’t take the bouquet and bottle. “I’m just… slowly fading myself out of the school.”

“Please don’t do that,” she whispers, and you swear you hear the low voice crack just slightly. “Please. You’re the best we have at Abbott.”

“I can go be the best at another local school,” you breathe. “I love the kids, but I know I’ll love the kids anywhere I go, and I won’t feel terrible with my coworkers like I do right now.”

“Y/N,” Melissa pleads. “Please.”

“What?” you bite back, and you can’t help but feel a little bad at the way she flinches at your sharp voice. “Why would I stay and feel the awful rejection everyday? Please explain to me why I would stay and grovel when I could go somewhere else where I won’t feel like an absolute idiot for falling for-”

She cuts you off, throwing the bottle of wine and the bouquet of flowers on your couch by the front door, before grabbing you and kissing you deeply.

You push her away. “Don’t. You already rejected me, and I made my peace with it. Don’t do this because you want me to stay at Abbott.”

“Y/N, hun,” Melissa starts, but you cut her off.

“I’m sorry, but you don’t get to call me hun anymore,” you state. 

She nods dejectedly. “Y/N, I’m not doing this because I just want you to stay at Abbott… I mean, I do want you to stay at Abbott, but that’s not why I’m here.”

“Then why are you?”

“Because… I was an idiot to reject you the other night, and I was rude the way I did it. The truth is…” she scratches the back of her head as she tries to think of how she’s going to confess her feelings to you. “The truth is: I have feelings for you too. I always have. But I buried them so far down because I thought that you would never reciprocate those feelings-”

“So when I kissed you and told you that I had feelings for you, that wasn’t clear enough?” you raise a brow.

“-I thought that you would never reciprocate those feelings,” she repeats. “I also thought that if we ever did decide to date, because of my track record with relationships, it would end in flames. And I would never want anything with you to end up in flames.”

“I’d say this past week did,” you retort. 

“Will you stop with the snarky comments and just let me try to explain myself?!” the redhead snaps a little.

You roll your eyes but gesture for her to continue.

“I would be destroyed if whatever we have between us was ruined,” she says softly. “And… if I’m being honest, I was hesitant because of my own self-doubt. I- I haven’t had great relationships in the past- ended up in divorce and a failed proposal. I know I say that I’m a Philly Eleven, but I’m masking the insecurities I have over my looks when I know that you are the true Philly Eleven at Abbott. I- I don’t have much to offer. I don’t go out and party, I don’t want to get married, I’m past the age of having kids of my own… but you? You’re a gorgeous woman with a good head on your shoulders and your whole life ahead of you. All I can offer is some damn good food and wine, and maybe a trivia night here or there if I’m not exhausted and overstimulated from my kids.”

“So you came here to tell me why you could never date me?” you ask.

“I came here to swallow my pride and tell you that even with all of my hesitations and doubts, I’m willing to take the risk and jump… for you,” she bites her lip and looks to you nervously. “If you’re still willing to have me.”

“I-” you unfold your arms and open them. She’s embracing you immediately, and you cling to her as though she’s all that’s holding you to this earth. When you pull back though, you’re frowning.

“So… I guess this is where I accept that after I rejected you, you reject-”

You roll your eyes and press your lips to hers gently. When you pull away, you tell her what you’ve been up to for the past week and a half. “I did apply to other schools in the area… I have an interview tomorrow after work.”

“Cancel it. Stay at Abbott where you belong. Stay with me,” she says quickly. “Please.”

You nod. “Well, come in,” you tell her. “If I’m going to be cancelling this interview, I’m gonna need a nice Schemmenti meal and some wine to get up the courage to email them a ‘regretful’ apology that I’ve decided that I’m right where I belong.”

Come the next day, Melissa drives the two of you into work. You resume what you missed so much the last week- your usual morning routine. You make the coffee while she puts your lunches away, and then she fixes the coffee as you turn on the television to watch the morning news. When everyone else trickles in, they’re delighted to be graced with your presence again. 

“All caught up on your work?” Janine grins as she takes a seat on one of the couches.

You smile back at her from your place next to Melissa. “Yeah, something like that.”

Only Barbara knows the real reason that you’re back to hanging out with your school crew- and she can’t wait to hear about all of the juicy gossip after school today when her and Melissa go shopping in the clearance section of the mall. She smiles to herself as she sips her coffee and gives her work wife a head nod in approval of her decisions.

[bvidzsoo]

Who am I? (Part 2)

Author: bvidzsoo

Warning: manhandling, smut, cursing, violence, toxicity

Pairing: Jeong Yunho x female reader

Word count: 14,7k

Summary: Jeong Yunho remained an enigma to you despite knowing him for over two months now. An extraordinary med student by day and a menacing gang member by night. There wasn't a label put to your relationship, and you liked it that way, but what happens when you finally face a disagreement, which makes you question the whole meaning of whatever is between Yunho and yourself. Is it really worth it for you? Or are the feelings too strong already to break it off?

A/N: Uh...yeah. I advise you check out Part 1 before reading this, thank u!! A second part was really unnecessary BUT I saw one picture of Yuyu and uh...my brain decided to work on its own and come up with a continuation, lol. But I think I'm finally ready to end their story as it is in here (unless I randomly get inspired again, save me). Tbh, this took an unexpected turn even for myself lol, I'm giving the side eye to Mr. Jeong Yunho currently. He's not that toxic, uh, but he's got it in him ngl, excuse this little silly guy for now. I hope you enjoy and your feedback is always appreciated! Enjoy now! ^^

⟨Part 1⟩

            There wasn’t a label to our relationship. We just…were. The two of us, together, in some weird way. I don’t know how we worked out, or why we worked out, but two months later Yunho and I were still hanging out and…sleeping together. It was a peculiar feeling—not knowing what we exactly were—but it was also freeing. I knew I didn’t have to question us; Yunho just brought that sense of safety with himself. Even in my previous committed relationships I haven’t felt this safe—this assured that the person next to me was fully committed to me, and only me. Yunho was—the same. He was still weird in my eyes even if I have grown somewhat used to his behavior. To the Jeong Yunho everyone knew from university, and the Jeong Yunho who seemed to be truly him. I knew both sides of him by now and it made me think that he’s just simply a versatile person, as he had early in our relationship said, he had a colorful personality and he wasn’t afraid to use this to his own advantage. He knew how to portray himself to be liked by those around him, but he wasn’t scared to let his ‘darker’ side show through when the situation called for it. He was intriguing, and he certainly knew how to keep you focused on him—locked in. He was like a vice, one you could never let go of unless someone noticed that you were withering away and finally offered help, a shoulder to lean on. I wasn’t sure if that is where I stood currently, if I needed someone to help me out—to take me away from him. I didn’t even know if I wanted my life to—be like it was before the two of us knew each other like this.

Yunho was mysterious and he never disclosed anything about himself if it wasn’t necessary, I only knew the basics about him. He loved coffee, but would prefer a tea rather than the iced energizer. He struggled to go to sleep early and often his nights were ridden with nightmares, causing his sleep to be restless, thus he was often tired in the mornings. Surprisingly enough, he was a morning person, and enjoyed going on morning runs, no matter the weather. Yunho loved staying in on the weekends to watch cheesy movies, and perhaps if this came as a surprise, his talent in baking came as an even bigger surprise. He was resilient and hard-working, not once slacking or behind on his assignments, only urging me on to do my own as we often sat down to study together. And he had money—more than necessary, in my opinion—yet never flaunted it around. Not in a very obvious way, of course, unless he was taking us out on dates in high-end and super fancy restaurants on the rich side of the city, sending me over-priced silk dresses with a note attached to it, Wear it tonight. Yunho was distinctive in every sense of the word and he was certainly luring me in more and more as time passed. I couldn’t tell whether that was smart or not, there were plenty of things I still didn’t know about him. His secrets were well kept, yet sometimes I could see through the cracks. He was in a gang and he was doing illegal things, things which perhaps were dangerous and would certainly drive me away from him if I knew about them. But Yunho made sure I remained oblivious to them as much as I could and I never complained—unless it started directly affecting me.

The halls of our university were busy as everyone was in recess, walking down the hallways, everyone headed to their own business. I was done for now, I only had one more class later in the afternoon, but Yunho wouldn’t be free until late in the afternoon. The weather was extremely beautiful today, compared to the chilly and windy days we’ve had these past weeks, and so we took advantage of that as we hoarded outside the university’s cold stone walls, soaking up the sunlight as best as we could as we were sitting on a big blanket spread out in the grass. Mingi was with us, laying on his back as he had a book above his head, eye narrowed and nose scrunched as he had lowered the book uncomfortably close to his face.

“Hey,” He spoke up, nudging Yunho with his foot as Yunho was sitting by him, “hand me your sunglasses. You don’t need them.”

Yunho hummed once, busy eating his salad full of nutrients, before he took his sunglasses off his head and threw them at Mingi. I continued underlining the important information from my book for my upcoming assignment, sighing loudly when I realized I still had ten pages to flip through. The warm sun still didn’t have its full power, but I welcomed it dearly as my skin craved its warmth. I never dealt well with the cold, broody, winter days. My sigh caught Yunho’s attention, however, and his eyes found mine as I glanced his way.

“What’s the matter?” He asked quietly as he scooched closer, mouth full of his homemade salad.

“Nothing.” I mumbled and went back to underlining another sentence as my eyes quickly ran over the fancy words, trying to connect them to what I knew would be useful for my research.

“Want some help?” Yunho asked quietly, settling in a comfortable seat next to me, his broad shoulder knocking into mine as he bumped our shoulders together lightly. I shook my head wordlessly and continued diligently working as Yunho quietly finished his lunch and Mingi turned around, laying on his stomach as he raised his legs and started lightly swinging them in the air. It was a cute sight; it brought a smile to my lips as I glanced his way. Mingi had class in half an hour and he decided to hang out with us when he saw Yunho and I walking down the corridor. Mingi and I were in different groups, therefore our timetables differed at times.

“Is this for your latest assignment?” Yunho asked as he placed his empty container back into his backpack, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He wore a grey hoodie over a beige turtleneck today, tucked into his favorite light blue, washed out, ripped jeans. It was the first time he didn’t wear his usual colorful outfits to university, and it certainly had turned some heads in the morning when his leather jacket was on him as well.

“Yeah, got two weeks to finish it.” I mumbled defeated, catching the slight thumping of my head. The breeze lightly picked up and brushed my copper strands against my face, until Yunho’s long fingers curled into the strands and pushed them behind my ear. I glanced at him from my peripheral and noticed him looking at me deeply, his brown eyes warm and light in the sunlight, like an amber cracking in the lively fire. I couldn’t help but softly smile, my body softening as I leaned into his side, his presence calming. Mingi let out a long sigh and there was a quiet thump as he let his head fall on his book, placed on the blanket. I chuckled as I watched his theatrics, Yunho straightening his right leg and kicking at Mingi’s foot.

“What’s got your knickers in a twist today, princess?” Yunho teased his best friend, earning a groan from Mingi.

“Shut up,” He moaned out in frustration as he pushed himself up, checking his wristwatch, “I fucking hate the professor I have class with in fifteen minutes, I don’t want to go.”

“Don’t go then,” I pipped up, grinning at him, “I’ve got the notes. I’ll let you have them.”

“Aren’t you a sweetheart, Y/N?” Mingi grinned for a second, running his hands through his black hair, ruffling it up, “But he doesn’t like me and has a personal vendetta against me, so I gotta go. Two more weeks and I’ll never have to see his face again.”

I raised my eyebrows at Mingi, about to destroy his fantasy, “Until our next module with him, which is in like…three months.”

“Shut up.” Mingi groaned as he got up from the blanket and dusted his jeans off, grabbing his book and backpack, pocketing his phone as Yunho handed it over to him. He thanked him quietly and checked his wristwatch again, very clear on his face that he didn’t want to go, “See you around.”

“My sunglasses.” Yunho reached a hand out, patiently waiting for Mingi to hand them over, but the younger one just chuckled and stuck his tongue out at Yunho.

“You wish. These are mine now.” And with that, he took off, making Yunho huff next to me as I chuckled, amused by their antics. Besides myself, I think Mingi is the only person who knows how Yunho is—who he truly is.

“That rascal.” Yunho muttered underneath his breath and I smiled, going back to the remaining six pages I still had to read, “You sure you don’t need help?”

“Yeah,” I hummed, “You’ve helped me enough before.”

“And I’ll keep helping you, it’s not a big deal.” I raised my head and turned to look at Yunho as his eyebrows were slightly furrowed, his expression serious. He looked calm, his mind probably quiet for once. He was a man who’s thoughts ran miles per hour. My fingers itched to reach out and to be run through his hair, massaging the skin of his nape, but I refrained from doing so—the two of us were never too affectionate with each other out in public. It’s not because we were keeping whatever was going on between each other a secret, it’s just that neither one of us was a big fan of showing intimacy in front of others. Yunho was subtle with it, and I just simply refrained from such gestures, feeling uncomfortable by strangers seeing us and judging us for what we were doing. But there were little moments when we both gave in to these urges, and I watched as Yunho leaned forward and pressed his soft lips against my right cheek, lips lingering against my skin as he breathed out against it, nose pressing against my heated skin. It came naturally that I flushed whenever he kissed my cheek, it felt intimate, sweet even. Something which was a nice change when it came to Yunho, who was a passionate and reactive man, indulging to his urges and whatever he was feeling in the moment.

“I should head home soon, have lunch and sleep some before my class.” I spoke up as Yunho finally pulled back, eyes soft as his lower lip jutted out.

“Want me to drive you home?”

“No, the weather is nice, I’ll walk.” Our serene ambivalence was broken the second there was a shout of Yunho’s name and a rushed man running our way, his brown hair disheveled as his backpack slung messily around on his back. Wooyoung wore a bright red jacket and black jeans so long it made me wonder how he hadn’t faceplanted already as he neared us. He had a wide grin on his lips and I felt Yunho shifting, his body pressing more firmly into mine, almost pushing me away.

“Hi, guys!” Wooyoung greeted loudly, disturbing the few people around us who had the same recreational idea in mind as us. Wooyoung was panting as he leaned forward, placing his hands on his knees.

“Hello, Wooyoung.” I greeted him back politely. He was one of Yunho’s friends, an obnoxiously loud man, but with a pure heart and good intentions. He was blunt, but also very caring. He was a free spirit which his small body couldn’t fully contain, bursting with the light he had to offer to the world. Wooyoung was a literature student and he absolutely loved what he was studying, often quoting something from the books he’s read or was currently reading. He had his nose in a book at all times, it was endearing to see. However, despite Yunho never voicing it, I felt the distaste he had towards the boy. Perhaps it was the shameless flirting Wooyoung seemed to be doing with everyone around him that Yunho disliked so much, and he often whatnot made it quite visible when Wooyoung hung out with us—at least when I was around too. Or so Mingi had told me one afternoon as we had hung out between classes, grabbing a coffee. Despite Mingi and I being in the same major, our somewhat friendship only kicked off after I became a prominent person in Yunho’s life. Figures it would have happened at some point, it seemed to me that Mingi was the most precious person to Yunho after himself—he could be quite selfish at times.

“What are you up to?” Wooyoung asked animatedly and I chuckled, closing my book. I have decided I have had enough for today.

“I was just about to head home, don’t know about Yunho, though.” As I went to grab my bag, I felt a heavy arm draped around my shoulders, Yunho’s long, cold, fingers curling tightly against my shoulder, squeezing lightly. I paused for a second and looked back at him, one eyebrow raised, but he didn’t spare me a glance as he was looking straight at Wooyoung.

“I’m headed to the library. I’ve got two hours before my next class.” His voice was cold, yet he had an eerily friendly smile on his lips. Wooyoung paid him no mind as he grinned and nodded, grabbing his phone out of his pocket as he tapped away on the screen. I placed my book into my bag and glanced at Yunho when he still didn’t release me, “Care to join me?”

Wooyoung nodded eagerly as he put his phone away, pushing his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans, “Sure, I’m waiting for my cousin to come pick me up. But until then we could hang out. I’ve got a new book I have to start reading, the timing is perfect, if you ask me.”

“Sure.” Yunho chuckled, but it lacked any friendliness. Wooyoung still didn’t seem to notice it. I cleared my throat and threw Yunho a look as I peeled his arm off me, getting to my feet. My bottom had gone numb at some point and I shook my legs out, groaning at the stabbing feeling in my feet.

“You’ve gone numb?” Wooyoung asked with a chuckle as he watched me amused, and I nodded with a grin.

“Sure did, I think I’ve been sitting in the same spot for an hour now.” I said as I grabbed my bag, but was surprised to find Yunho holding onto it, and not letting go. I raised my eyebrows at him and noted how his jaw was clenching tightly, eyebrows slightly furrowed. It was on the tip of my tongue to ask whether he was alright or not, but him suddenly standing up took me off guard.

“Shake it out like this—” Wooyoung speaking up got my attention as I turned my head to look at him, feeling Yunho’s looming presence over my shoulder as he pressed up against me, firm chest flushed against my back. Wooyoung was goofily jumping around, shaking his ass rather than his legs, and it made me laugh at the imagery in front of me. My laughter prompted Wooyoung to laugh as well, making him stop his antics.

“Thank you, but I think I’ll refrain from shaking my ass around and disturbing the people around us,” I said amused, making Wooyoung pout, “I’m sure they didn’t sign up for it when they decided to enjoy the sunlight—which is slowly going away.”

I sighed sadly, the clouds gathering around as the breeze was picking up, urging me on to zip up my coat. I looked back at Yunho and signaled for him to hand me my bag over, however, the displeasure in his expression took me off guard. It’s been long since I have seen him this hostile. Perhaps since the last time we had gone out on a date and the waiter kept flirting with me the whole time as if Yunho wasn’t even there at the table, sitting with me.

“Hey, if it’s sunny tomorrow too,” Wooyoung suddenly proposed, eyes shining with excitement, “Want to go play some basketball? It’s been long since I played, but I’ve still got it in me—promise.”

I hummed in thought and yanked my bag out of Yunho’s hold when he wouldn’t let go still, giving him a small glare. What was up with him? He’d been fine just minutes ago. Why was he acting up all of a sudden?

“I mean, I’m not big on sports, but I could definitely use some exercise.” I turned to look at Yunho, “Yunho? What about you?”

“I’m not into basketball.” He fired quickly, throwing a glare Wooyoung’s way, but the younger one was either really good at ignoring the murderous look on Yunho’s face or he just simply didn’t notice. The later was probably better, but it was also only angering Yunho more.

“Sure, you don’t have to come. I’ve got other friends who like it, Y/N, I’m sure you’ll like them.” Wooyoung was babbling on, obviously not noticing the simmering anger in Yunho’s eyes. I cleared my throat and smiled tensely, a little off-thrown by the situation, by Yunho’s behavior, “I’ve been wanting to introduce you to them for a while now.”

Yunho scoffed loudly, and that finally caught Wooyoung’s attention as his eyebrows lightly furrowed, confusion written all over his face as I cleared my throat awkwardly.

“Sure, sounds cool.” But I forced a smile on my lips before clapping my hands together, and taking a small step away from Yunho’s side. I needed to get going now, “I’ll be on my way though, enjoy your time in the library, you guys.”

“Have a lovely afternoon, Y/N.” Wooyoung called cutely, a dimple showing as his lips were pulled into a big smile.

“You too, Wooyoung.” I smiled back at him before turning to face Yunho, wanting to say my goodbyes to him as well, except that I was greeted by a big hand wrapping around my jaw and pulling me forward as he painfully crashed his lips against mine. A surprised noise left the back of my throat, eyes wide as Yunho forced my lips apart with his, slipping his tongue inside my mouth. He’s never done anything like this in public before, and I found it hard to react as I was taken aback, heart suddenly racing in my chest. Before I could reciprocate the kiss, Yunho was already pulling away, my lower lip between his teeth as he bit down on it painfully, making my eyebrows furrow as I grabbed his wrist and pushed his hold off my face, giving him a glare but a confused look as well as my lips were pulsing, hot, and coated with Yunho’s saliva from the messy and aggressive kiss he had just given me. I didn’t want to vocalize my thoughts, which would’ve been a loud what the fuck, Yunho, so I just deepened my glare as he stared deeply into my eyes, anger still simmering in them. His irrational behavior had no sense and I shook my head when I realized he was turning this into a staring contest, of who would give in first—that being me, of course, as I wasn’t in the mood for childish games. Besides, I knew Yunho hated it when I dismissed him, and that’s what he deserved for the behavior he had just exhibited. When my eyes fell on Wooyoung again, he was looking away awkwardly, cheeks flushed as his lips were in a tight line. I felt sorry for him and also humiliated when I felt Yunho trying to close the gap between our bodies, but I cleared my throat and stepped around him.

“Okay, goodbye.” I said loudly as I gave Yunho a pointed glare, Wooyoung’s wave weak as I turned and stalked off, leaving the two males behind. And I knew Wooyoung wouldn’t hang out with Yunho today, the older one’s attitude too off-putting for Wooyoung, who was simply nice and friendly with me. And if Yunho texted me later today, he certainly wasn’t getting a reply. I did not like being treated like an object, like a doll. And I certainly did not like being presented as someone who had ownership over themselves by another person. It was the one thing Yunho never truly, fully, understood during our relationship as he was a possessive and overly protective man. I would not be branded as his, nor treated like a piece of doll.

            It had been a few days since Yunho and I had spoken, due to a multitude of reasons. The most pressing one was the way he acted when Wooyoung had approached us, and perhaps the fact that he saw no faults in his attitude when he texted a half-assed apology later that evening. But another reason was life catching up with the both of us. I had to take up more shifts at the convenience store as I was starting to run short on money while the deadline to pay my fees at the university was dangerously nearing, and Yunho had not long ago started his residency at the local hospital. He didn’t have a fixed schedule yet, but he preferred taking the night shifts more often than not, sometimes letting me stay overnight at his apartment alone. I never understood how he does it, but whenever I woke up there was homemade breakfast laid out on the table nicely in his living room, with Yunho freshly showered and scrolling through his phone as he lazily dried his hair with a towel. I would often walk up to him and help him out, taking the towel out of his hand as I rubbed it against his damp hair, making Yunho sigh loudly when I would run my fingers through his hair, softly massaging his scalp. Usually in the mornings nothing much was said between the two of us, and I preferred it that way. I liked the calm and quiet, having the chance to sort out my plans for the day I had ahead of me. But it’s been almost two weeks since I slept over, and I couldn’t help but sigh as I realized I was thinking about Yunho again. We’ve never fought before, never even went a day without texting each other, even if just briefly. It was a little unnerving to realize how big part of my life Yunho had become, how his absence was unsettling and left me feeling agitated and unsafe. I should have known better that allowing him into my life would bring consequences, and even if we weren’t a defined item, I didn’t know where we stood now that we weren’t talking. It was probably my fault, I was the one ignoring him, but I felt like this was my last attempt at trying to get him to understand that he couldn’t just claim me and make me his propriety. I hated these things; they made me feel dirty and uncomfortable.

As I was wiping the counter clean, earbuds in and bobbing my head to the music as clients had been quite scarce today, I heard the bell chime loudly over my music, quickly making me switch it off and take the earbuds out. I watched as a tall man walked inside, all-bulked up underneath the black turtleneck and form fitting jeans he wore. We looked at each other and I welcomed him, his face concealed by a facemask and a low hanging baseball cap. The sight wasn’t unusual, it didn’t ring any alarm bells in my head as I went back to wiping off the dust from the counter, crouching and putting the rag away once I was done. I grabbed the can of soda I had put away for myself and cracked it open as I stood, startled when I found the man right across me, the counter separating the two of us. He was alarmingly tall, perhaps taller than Yunho himself, and I had to tip my head slightly back to look him in the eyes. The guy had sharp eyes, dark, yet warm. I was sure I haven’t seen him around here before and I took the cup of ramen he pushed towards me wordlessly, scanning the item quickly.

“Want anything else?” I asked the customer in a monotone voice, keeping my face neutral, “We’ve got a promotion if you buy a drink of your choice with the ramen.”

The man made a humming sound before he nodded and stalked off towards the fridges, my eyes following his every move. He looked intimidating like this, with his face concealed and clothing dark. And the fact that he wasn’t talking was unnerving as well, but I pushed such thoughts to the back of my head as he returned with a can of soda identical to mine.

“This good?” He finally asked, voice not too deep nor raspy, slightly cracking at the end. I had to admit, he had a pleasant voice and I slightly relaxed as I nodded, scanning the soda in as well.

“Yeah, it’s a mix of grape and something lemony, the sparkling water really elevates the taste of it.” I answered him and the man nodded, grabbing his wallet out of his long coat’s pocket as I took a bag and placed his items inside, closing his tab. I let him know the amount he had to pay and took the money when he pushed it towards me, ignoring the way his finger brushed against my skin. It made me shiver, but I hoped he didn’t notice. His touch was cold and it reminded me of Yunho’s cold hands holding my body firmly. I quickly grabbed the change and handed it back to the customer, making sure our skins didn’t touch again as I flashed him a generic smile, thanking him for purchasing at us.

“Do you often work here?” He asked as he took off towards the door, making my eyebrows furrow as I glanced at him uneasily.

“Sometimes.” I chose to stay ambiguous as the man nodded once before saying his goodbyes, prompting me to do the same as I watched him leave through the glass door and then windows of the convenience store. I shook off the uneasy feeling as the man got inside a vehicle, one which looked slightly familiar, but I couldn’t figure out why and from where. But the little voice inside my head told me that I had seen it before. Before I could dwell more on it, a peculiar sight blocked my view of the strange customer leaving with his car. Yunho had pushed open the door of the convenience store slowly, his warm eyes falling on me and holding my gaze. I wouldn’t have thought not seeing him for a few days would send my heart into a frenzy as I took in his appearance, wavy hair concealed by a black fuzzy beanie with white stars on it. His jacket was missing despite the chilly breeze outside, but I suppose the fuzzy grey and white sweater which reached his knees was enough to keep him warm enough. He wore leather pants, and the longer I looked at his outfit the more it looked like he had borrowed his clothes from Mingi. Lately, Yunho had been experimenting with his clothing, and I could’ve sworn I saw Mingi wearing the exact same sweater Yunho was wearing right now. However, what made my mouth go dry and heartrate increase faster was the huge bouquet of blue Hyacinths he was holding in his hands, expression leveled until he reached the counter, leaning his hips against it. I remained silent as I watched Yunho, hands slightly shaking as I pushed them behind my back, clasping my fingers together. In all the two months we’ve been seeing each other, Yunho had not once given me flowers. It was an unusual sight and it was slightly unnerving, new, but it felt good.

“Hello,” He greeted quietly, searching for my eyes as I avoided eye contact. I was still irritated that he didn’t want to understand me and listen to me, but I knew one look at his face would make me forgive him instantly, “Uh, you’ve been ignoring me.”

I hummed as my eyes fell on the blue Hyacinths, their scent strong and refreshing. I’ve always loved these flowers; they were the harbingers of spring. I remained silent and Yunho sighed, suddenly moving. I finally looked up as the bouquet of Hyacinths was placed on the counter and pushed towards me, “I’m sorry. I know you don’t like it when I act like that, but it’s who I am, Y/N.”

I rolled my eyes but accepted the flowers as I took them from Yunho, cradling them against my chest as I looked down at them, closing my eyes as I sniffed their strong perfume, sweet yet biting, “I’ve missed you.”

It was the lack of hesitation he said it with that made me look up at Yunho wide eyed, mouth going dry at his sudden confession. Yunho rarely voiced his emotions, often times only being vocal about them during sex, which wasn’t a huge problem to me, but it would’ve felt nice sometimes hearing him talk about them without being buried deep in me and high of endorphins.

“Yeah,” I muttered after clearing my throat, feeling shy all of a sudden, “Life’s been quiet without you.”

Quiet, yet so chaotic as my thoughts were plagued with Yunho. I didn’t feel like letting him know that, it felt like I was overstepping some invisible boundary we have set. Yunho, though, seemed to understand as he hummed and nodded once, reaching over the counter and taking my hand in his as he pried it away from the bouquet. His palm was searing hot and his metal rings cold as they pressed against my skin, and I sighed, squeezing his fingers between mine, biting my lower lip as I looked down at our joined hands.

“Let’s hang out tonight,” Yunho proposed, voice quiet, “The guys invited me out, but afterwards you could crash at my place.”

I hummed and nodded without much hesitation, agreeing to his plan. I didn’t have it in me to turn down his invitation, I have missed him too. I wanted to spend time with him, I wanted to be close to him again.

“Seonghwa said Sooyoung was coming too.” Hearing my friend’s name made me smile as I finally looked up into Yunho’s chocolate brown eyes, noting the happiness written all over his face. He was probably glad I wanted to hang out with him, finally not dismissing him anymore.

“Cool, I’ll talk to her and we’ll go together.” I spoke up, making Yunho pout as his grip against my hand tightened, “We’ll be spending the night together either way, I haven’t had the chance to hang out with Sooyoung this week yet. I miss her.”

“More than me?” Yunho raised his eyebrows and I chuckled, softly prying my hand out of his and crouching down to try and find something I could place the bouquet in.

“Bros before hoes.” I cracked a cheeky smile and it made Yunho laugh, a sound I rarely had the chance to hear. It was usually him the one making me laugh, it felt good being able to make him laugh. I grinned as I watched Yunho chuckle to himself before composing himself and stepping back as I found a little glass vase, perfect to hold my bouquet of blue Hyacinths until I went home, “Text me the details.”

“Sure, I’ll see you later, angel.” He winked and I ignored the way my cheeks instantly flushed, never quite used to Yunho’s flirty side as it rarely made its appearance. I stood up and waved as Yunho left the convenience store, eyes on me until he rounded the corner, making me grin as my eyes fell on the flowers and remained on them. Perhaps he could bring me flowers more often, I wouldn’t mind.

            After finishing my shift, I met up with Sooyoung at her place, the two of us cooking some nice late lunch and gossiping about everything we haven’t told each other through text. It seemed like her and Seonghwa were going out now, but they weren’t quite in a relationship yet. She said this was working for her as she wanted to make sure Seonghwa truly was the man he portrayed himself to be, and she then asked about Yunho and I. She knew we haven’t talked in a while, so I told her about him showing up with flowers and confessing that he had missed me. It sent Sooyoung into a giggling mess, amusing me as I watched her ramble on about how Yunho should just ask me to be his girlfriend already, since everyone around us seems to be thinking that we are boyfriend and girlfriend. I reassured her that I didn’t need a label to feel comfortable with how things were between us, and Sooyoung confessed she was jealous of that, she could never be this easy-going. She needed the utmost security before entering a relationship. I could understand her.

After talking to Yunho, he sent us the location of the BBQ place we were meeting at, and told us to be there at eight sharp. I wasn’t in the mood to head home before leaving to said location, so Sooyoung let me wear one of the pretty dresses she owned. It was a black off-shoulder, long sleeved dress, and it reached just above my calves, the fabric warm and form fitting. I styled my hair in simple waves and applied a coral lip-gloss on my lips, matching the color of my hair as Sooyoung grinned at me while wearing her cute, but casual clothes as well. It wasn’t often that I wore dresses, but tonight I wanted to look nicer than usually, and, besides, this dress was one of the few clothing items Sooyoung owned that actually fit me as our height difference stopped us from sharing cute clothes with each other. She was half a head taller, the dress on her was a lot shorter than on my form, but it still looked nice. I had packed my clothes in my backpack and promised Sooyoung I would give the dress back once I have washed it. After finishing up and making sure everything we had used for our hair was unplugged, and the makeup put away, Sooyoung locked up and we left her apartment.

By the time we reached the BBQ place the streets were busy with people roaming around to find entertainment as it was a Friday evening, and the pub Yunho told us to meet them at was buzzing with life, filled to the brim with people. As we walked inside, I noted there weren’t any empty tables as Sooyoung craned her neck and looked around for the people we were here with. And she quickly found them. They were sat at a large round table, towards the middle of the room, and the table had already various flavored Soju bottles littered around, with the meat being grilled by Mingi as we came to a stop next to the table. It seemed like a few seats were empty, and Yunho wasn’t here yet as I looked at the familiar faces, searching for his. Seonghwa and Mingi looked at us at the same time, and Mingi was happy to see me as he said hi loudly, talking over the hubbub of the pub. Seonghwa was quickly on his feet, pressing a swift kiss against Sooyoung’s red lips, making her blush as she timidly greeted everyone sitting at the table. She sat next to Seonghwa, and as I didn’t know which seat was taken or not, I opted to play it safe and sat right next to her after Seonghwa assured me that the seat hadn’t been claimed yet. Jongho sat at the table, an empty chair between him and Mingi, right across from me. He seemed to be busy with his phone, greeting us hastily before he went back to it, fingers moving fast as he was typing. Mingi shot him a few glances, but didn’t say much to him. The seat to my right was empty, but not for long. Suddenly, I heard loud and shrill laughter coming from behind, and as I turned, I watched as Wooyoung was talking to someone taller than him, holding three bottles of undone Soju in his hands. The man he was talking to pat him on the shoulder before he beelined it to a different table, Wooyoung coming to a stop next to me. He looked ecstatic to see me, and I chuckled.

“Hi, Wooyoung.” I said with a laugh as he stumbled a bit, slamming the Soju bottles on the table accidentally, making Jongho glare at him.

“Careful.”

“Sorry.” Wooyoung pouted at the grumpy man before taking his seat between Jongho and myself, clapping his hands together, “Hi, Y/N! I haven’t seen you in quite a while.”

“Just four days or something.” I muttered with a chuckle and Wooyoung grinned, undoing the grapefruit flavored Soju.

“Yeah, and those are more than enough to make me miss you.” I rolled my eyes at the blatant flirting, but failed to notice the sharp gaze Mingi sent Wooyoung’s way as he had heard his words. Even Seonghwa paused for a second as his lips pulled into a straight line, but Sooyoung quickly had his attention once again, “Want some?”

I nodded eagerly as Wooyoung poured some Soju for me and I nudged Sooyoung with my elbow, raising an empty glass at her, “Want some?”

“Sure.” She grinned and Wooyoung poured some for her as well, “We have some catching up to do. These guys already finished four bottles.”

“We’re only half an hours late, please.” I said with a laugh before Wooyoung, Sooyoung, and I clanked our glasses together, downing the Soju. The taste of it was sour, yet not unbearable at all, and I took the Soju glass before pouring another shot for myself. Wooyoung grinned as encouraged me and poured himself another one as well, downing it at the same time with me. I groaned and thanked Jongho as he pushed his untouched Fanta towards me, letting me take a few sips before I handed it back to him. He seemed to be done with whatever he was doing on his phone as he had his hands clasped together and placed on the table, watching Mingi and giving him instructions on how to grill the meat better. Wooyoung chimed up next to me, but suddenly I felt big hands pressing against my bare shoulders, making me stiffen as my back straightened. I quickly looked back, but upon seeing Yunho’s towering form looming over me, I relaxed.

“Hi.” I said with a small smile, goosebumps erupting on my skin as Yunho’s calloused hands slowly dragged closer to my neck, his forefingers pressing into my nape. Yunho’s expression was neutral as his eyes slipped onto Wooyoung for a split second, and I didn’t miss the way his jaw clenched. It took me a few seconds to realize, and I sighed as I gave Yunho a look, begging him not to start this again. Wooyoung was just a friendly guy and whatever he said and did, it wasn’t anything serious. He was Yunho’s friend for fucks sake, it was Yunho who introduced us to each other. If he couldn’t stand the guy, why the hell did he continue hanging out with him—why did he even introduce me to him? I wanted a nice night out, not a tense filled evening where I couldn’t even look in Wooyoung’s direction without Yunho blowing up from anger.

“Hi.” Yunho muttered and he leaned down, his face close to mine. I looked in his eyes questioningly, waiting for him to make the first move. His nose twitched and I knew he hated all the eyes on us, but nonetheless, he still pressed a lasting kiss against my lips, keeping his eyes open as I didn’t close mine either. I gave him a warning glare as he pulled away and stepped back, his hands leaving my body as he tapped Wooyoung on the back a little too harshly before he took off towards his seat, which was in between Mingi and Jongho. I chuckled and shook my head for a second, amused but irritated at the same time. Sooyoung gave me a questioning look as I poured her and myself some Soju, Seonghwa and Mingi having a heated debate about whether the meat was better overcooked or undercooked. Jongho seemed to be disgusted as he voiced his opinion that it was only perfect if it was in the middle. I felt a small nudge against my wrist on the table and I looked towards Wooyoung, who was looking at me shyly, scratching the back of his neck.

“Do you think I make Yunho uncomfortable?” He whispered as he slightly leaned closer. My eyes fell on said person quickly, watching the way Yunho’s eyes darkened. I looked back at Wooyoung and forced on a small smile, feeling bad that I had to lie to him.

“That’s just how he is, don’t mind him.” I tried to answer as ambiguously as I could, but Wooyoung just pouted.

“So, he doesn’t like me.” He concluded and I frowned, feeling bad.

“He’s your friend, Wooyoung.” I tried, but Wooyoung just shrugged, “Of course, he likes you.”

“I mean,” He hummed and grabbed some peanuts from the bowl placed close to him, “not necessarily. We know each other through Jongho.”

“Yeah, and I question myself each day what was I thinking when I befriended you.” It seemed like Jongho was eavesdropping in on our conversation, but Wooyoung didn’t seem to mind as he made an offended sound, lurching towards Jongho. Jongho yelped as Wooyoung’s arms went around his neck and aggressively tried to press a kiss against Jongho’s cheek, making the younger one fight for his life. I started laughing at the small commotion, quickly stabilizing the stool Wooyoung sat on as it tipped towards Jongho, making him fall off.

“Enough, hey.” Seonghwa called out and grabbed his chopsticks, waving them threateningly in Jongho and Wooyoung’s direction, making the two settle down instantly. Jongho’s eyes could’ve killed as he glared at Wooyoung, but the boy seemed unthreatened as he sat back in his seat satisfied, grinning widely. I chuckled as Sooyoung and I looked at each other, her shaking her head. Mingi cleared his throat and motioned at the table.

“Meat is done, let’s start eating.” And so everyone dug in, Yunho’s eyes barely leaving me and making me almost choke on my food when I noticed. I raised my eyebrows at him, a silent question, but he didn’t react, face staying neutral. I just shrugged and continued eating, the food delicious and the meat well cooked, complimenting Mingi for his work, watching as a gloating smirk appeared on his lips. It made me chuckle as Jongho started arguing with him, telling him that the meat would’ve been worse if he didn’t help out, making Mingi hush him with an inoffensive threat. It didn’t take long for Wooyoung to nudge my wrist again, and I found it cute as I looked at him amused.

“So, uh…” He cleared his throat before proceeding with what he had to say, “I started this new book. It’s dark romance ad thriller. Want to hear about it? Maybe you’ll like it, I can lend it to you.”

“Sure.” I smiled and nodded my head, seeing from the corner of my eyes as Yunho took a big swing of his beer, eyes staring daggers at Wooyoung and me, but I ignored him. I wasn’t in the mood to focus on his jealous theatrics, and instead paid full attention to what Wooyoung had to say.

            And Wooyoung had a lot of things to say from then on, barely letting me pay attention to anyone else as he talked about anything that came to his mind, themes going from absurd to quite serious. It was nice to see the layers he had, and he was an entertaining person. I’ve always found talking to him quite easy, smooth, and flowing by itself. I tried not to pay much attention to Yunho, who looked more and more displeased as the hours went by, at some point turning his body in a way that he wouldn’t see Wooyoung and I anymore. It was childish, really, I was simply just socializing. I wasn’t giving any signals to Wooyoung, and he was also keeping everything cordial besides the little nudges he did against my wrist with his pinky. There was absolutely nothing to be worried about. Mingi and Jongho had gone out a few minutes ago to smoke their cigars, and for once, Wooyoung seemed enthralled by whatever him and Seonghwa were discussing at the moment, I hadn’t paid attention to them. The more time passed, the more drinks appeared on the table and it was quite visible that Seonghwa, Wooyoung, and Mingi were quite tipsy, Sooyoung’s eyes droopy, yet she refused to head home just yet. I hadn’t drank much, therefore it wasn’t hitting me and…Yunho had a high tolerance for alcohol; however, I lost count of how many beers he’s had. Probably more than necessary. As I looked up, I was startled to find Yunho standing all of a sudden, eyes deadly as they were set on me. I gulped, for a second feeling like I was in trouble, until I reminded myself that Yunho was just overreacting. I watched his tall frame, which was hugged by ripped greyish-black jeans and a simple black t-shirt hanging loosely around his torso, a silver chain dangling around his neck. Some while ago he started wearing a single silver earring in his left ear, and he had it on tonight as well. A few rings littered around his fingers and I felt my body tense as he walked around the table, coming near me. He stopped behind Wooyoung and grabbed my forearm.

“Come with me.” I couldn’t really say no as I was pulled up from my seat, legs a little numb as I hadn’t stood up in a while now. My eyes searched Yunho’s as he dragged me up to my feet and veered me in front of himself, making me walk as he followed close behind, his left hand gripping my waist tightly. My heart picked up a bit as I saw the confused looks on Wooyoung and Sooyoung’s faces, however, Seonghwa looked like this was normal. I didn’t know what to think as I licked my lips and realized Yunho was walking us towards the restrooms. I knew where this was leading, and it was certainly to an argument. And argument that I did not want to have in a pub’s restroom, but I guess I didn’t have much of a choice as Yunho held me firmly, not allowing me to slip away even if I tried to. There were three doors, one for the ladies restroom, one for the men, and a third one which said, employes only. As Yunho pushed me towards it, my eyebrows furrowed and I looked back at him unimpressed and confused.

“What are you doing?” But he was already pushing the door open and shoving me inside. If it weren’t for his hold on my body, I would’ve stumbled. I heard the door slam shut behind me and a click, making me open my mouth to chastise Yunho for whatever this was, but the wind was knocked out of my lungs as I was whirled around and aggressively pushed up against the door.

“I’ve fucking had enough, Y/N.” His jaw was clenched and his nose flared as Yunho glared me down, keeping me pinned against the door as my eyes widened, “I fucking told you I don’t like it when you’re with Wooyoung, and you go ahead and ignore me the whole fucking night while you’re all sweet with him. Fuck this, Y/N. Seriously.”

My eyebrows furrowed and I scoffed, trying to wriggle myself out of his hold, “You never told me you didn’t like him, nor that you didn’t like me talking to him, Yunho. Talking to him. Do you expect me to just fucking ignore every living soul which is a male because I’m with you?!”

The silence which followed was deafening, the tumult of the pub muffled by the door I was pressed against, and Yunho’s face said everything. He wanted me to ignore the existence of every male that wasn’t him. I scoffed and glared at him, yanking his hands off my body. He had loosened his grip on me, making it easy for me to do so.

“I told you that’s not who I am, Yunho, numerous times.” I snapped, pressing a finger against his firm chest, “I told you that you couldn’t expect me to bend to all of your wishes and let go of my own principles for you. I don’t give a single fuck who you are, Yunho, but if you don’t respect me, I won’t respect you either. You can be Jesus, you can be a mobster, the most dangerous man on Earth, and I still won’t allow you to treat me like I’m your personal toy, your little object you can claim whenever your dick stands up, Yunho.”

And Yunho said nothing as his breathing got heavier, because he knew I was right. Because he knew very well where I stood, because he knew and even said he understood, when I refused to get the tattoo he also had on his chest. I didn’t want to be branded, I didn’t want to belong to anyone or anything. I was my own person and if this is where things were headed, I wouldn’t stick around for longer. No matter how much Yunho started meaning to me. And maybe it was the fire in my eyes and the indignation on my face that prompted Yunho to understand that things would soon come to an end between the two of us if he continued on acting like this, but I’ve had enough and as I went to turn around and open the door, Yunho was suddenly on me, holding my face firmly in his hands as he pressed his lips roughly against mine. It took me a little while to respond and it made Yunho whine as his mouth never once stopped moving against mine, coaxing me into a fiery kiss as my hands fisted Yunho’s shirt at his sides, apparently giving him the cue to press himself up against me. I sighed into his mouth as his tongue pushed past my lips and licked into my mouth with urgency, his kisses desperate as his tall body molded perfectly against mine. He knew every tick of mine, every spot which brought pleasure, and every move which he knew made it hard for me to control myself. As he slanted a leg between my things, my fingers tangled into his black locks and I yanked on his hair harshly, making Yunho gasp. He broke off the kiss, but his lips were quickly on my jaw, leaving open mouthed kisses against it as he pressed his thigh more against my clothed core, making me grind down against it needily, little noises leaving my lips as Yunho sucked at a particular spot under my jaw, skin sensitive and igniting a fire within which spread through my whole body.

“I need you.” Yunho mumbled into my skin as he held my chin with his right hand while his lips travelled lower, sucking harshly on the skin of my neck, making me hiss out in pain. As if to prove his words, he pressed his lower half harsher against my body, and I could feel his bulge through his jeans, making me bite back a moan as my hips grinded against his thigh, making me bite my lower lip at the friction against my lower region. Everything was becoming hotter around me, my skin felt on fire and my mind began emptying out as Yunho’s musky cologne consumed my whole being, as his hands groped at any part of my body he could feel, his warmth mingling with mine, and his sinful lips pressing open mouthed kisses against my skin, and tongue licking at it afterwards. His left hand found my hips and guided them, setting a slow rhythm as I grinded against his thigh, a quiet moan leaving my lips at the pooling heat between my legs. The fabric was harsh against me, but it brought the little relief I needed, yet still not enough.

“You look so sexy, when I saw you I wanted to devour you on the spot.” Yunho whispered in my ear as he flexed his thigh, drawing out another quiet moan from me as I gripped his shoulders, arms going around him and pulling him more into myself.

“You’re so fucking hot.” I gasped out against his cheek as I pressed my nose against his skin, kissing his heated cheek, and grinding just a little bit harder against his thigh, yet it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t satiating enough anymore, and my body was on fire, and my walls were clenching around nothing, “Fuck, Yuyu, why did you start this?”

Yunho groaned and suddenly I felt his hands slipping down my legs, gripping the fabric of the dress harshly as he started hiking it up, “Careful, the dress isn’t mine.”

“I don’t give a shit about the dress, Y/N,” He bit back, voice strained as he bunched up the skirt around my hips and yanked at my panties, his hands frantically going to unbuckle his belt and undo his zipper and button of his jeans. I gulped as I looked down at Yunho’s length, hand reaching out and wrapping around his cock, squeezing it as I stroked him slowly, making Yunho throw his head back as he let out airy breaths, sounding close to choked back moans.

“Fuck, I’m going to fuck you hard, angel.” He suddenly opened his eyes and connected out gazes, gripping my wrist and pulling my hand off his length and he pushed his jeans and boxer further down his thighs. He gripped the back of my thighs and made me jump as he lifted me off my feet, my legs wrapping around his hips for stability as I held on to him with my arms as well, our bodies flush against each other. Yunho looked me in the eyes and I licked my lips before teasingly licking Yunho’s, his eyes darkening instantly. I chuckled, but my amusement was short lived as he aligned himself at my entrance and pressed in with one fluid moment, stretching me out and making my eyebrows furrow as I let out a loud gasp, pressing my forehead against Yunho’s as the stretch slightly burned. It had been more than a week since we’d slept with each other, and his size was something my body just never fully got used to. I gulped, but my throat was still dry as Yunho moved, pulling out and then pushing back in as he pinned me up against the door. His pace was slow and dragged out, taunting me and teasing me as he smirked, lips parted as he was lightly panting. My body was burning and my walls were pulsing around his length, as the friction wasn’t good enough anymore, making me whine as my nails dug through Yunho’s shirt and into his skin.

“Yunho, please.” I whispered against his lips as I moved my own hips, trying to get something more out of this, but Yunho just chuckled.

“You think you deserve it after everything you’ve done with Wooyoung tonight?” He nuzzled his nose against mine, and tears gathered in my eyes out of frustration as my hips desperately tried to quicken the pace.

“Fuck, Yunho,” I gritted my teeth at him, one hand untangling from around his shoulders and going to grip his neck, “We were just talking, for fuck’s sake—”

He suddenly pulled out almost all the way and slammed back in, cutting my words off and breath stilling in my throat as I gasped loudly, moan dying out in my throat, “Just talking, you say. Keep on talking right now, then. I bet you have something smart to say.”

And then he pulled out all the way and slammed back in, ramming my body back against the door each time, my toes curling as my legs tightened around his hips, pulling out wanton moans each time he did it, “Oh, Yunho—fuck—please pick up the pace—”

And he smashed his lips against mine as he started moving quickly, hips slamming back against mine as he quickened his pace, my walls clenching down tightly against Yunho’s dick as he moaned into my mouth loudly, hiking my body up higher with each one of his movements, my fingers tangled in his hair as I gripped on for dear life, trying to bite down my moans. Yunho’s pace was ruthless as he plunged into me faster and faster, his big hands gripping my thighs so harshly it surely would leave fingerprints on my skin. I moved down on his length, trying to match his rhythm as the pleasure was building up in my lower stomach, desperately needing more of Yunho as he groaned and buried his head in my neck, nipping on my skin as I pressed a hand against my mouth to try and muffle my moans, head thrown back as my back arched, Yunho finally hitting my sweet spot, and it made me clench around him as his length twitched, his teeth sinking down into my neck.

“You’re mine, angel—” Yunho gasped as I clenched around him again, my hips moving messily as I was chasing my own release, brain beyond fogged up and desperate to finish, “Mine. Tell me you’re mine.”

I whimpered as Yunho’s long finger found my clit and started toying with it, never quite rubbing it the way he was supposed to, frustrating me to no end as tears gathered in my eyes again, yanking on his hair hard.

“Say it, Y/N, you’re mine.” His voice was deep and dark, and I gasped as he started pulling me down aggressively on his dick, rubbing my clit harshly, my body shaking as my climax was finally building up, Yunho’s quiet groans getting louder as his voice was becoming higher pitch, close to his own release as well.

“I’m yours, fuck, Yunho, I’m yours.” I gasped out and quickly kissed him hard, our teeth clashing against each other as Yunho shoved his tongue down my mouth, muffling my keens as my walls squeezed around his length, finally the bundle in my lower abdomen exploding as my body shook, Yunho the only thing on my mind as I squeezed my eyes tightly shut. Yunho’s pace never once slowed down as he guided me through my orgasm, soon coming too as I whined against his lips, bodies flushed together as Yunho’s hips pushed against mine harshly, movements halting as he jerked his hips a few more times, his seed warm inside as we panted into each other’s mouths.

“Open your eyes.” Yunho’s voice was raspy and I licked my dry lips as I pried my eyes open, taken aback by the intense look in his eyes. They were completely dark, not an ounce of warmth in them, the chocolate brown now almost black as he suddenly held my chin tightly, tilting my head back as he glared down at me, “Get it into your fucking head that you’re mine, and no other man is allowed to touch you. You think I didn’t see how many times Wooyoung reached for your wrist? Let it happen one more time, Y/N, and I will fucking kill him. You’re mine.”

And as if to prove a point, he bucked his hips against mine, my walls involuntarily clenching down on his dick, my heart beating erratically. In all these two months of being with him, of spending hours and hours with Yunho, I had never seen him like this. The pure animalistic look in his eyes, the anger on his face, and the threat dripping from his tone…it scared me. It reminded me of who he really was, and it made me question if I wanted this. But could I flee if it came down to it? Would he let me? Or would he threaten to kill me like he just threatened to kill Wooyoung. Would—would Yunho really kill Wooyoung?

“Just let me down.” I managed to whisper, voice shaky as I averted my gaze, lightly pushing at his shoulders.

“Do you understand?” But Yunho didn’t budge, instead jerked my chin to make me look him in the eyes again. I clenched my jaw and gulped down everything I wanted to say.

“I do.” I snapped, eyes glaring back at Yunho as he finally slipped out and placed me on my feet, legs wobbly for a few seconds as I quickly pulled up my panties and pushed the dress down, gulping as I ran my fingers through my hair. Yunho quickly fixed himself, but the look remained on his face. The man standing in front of me wasn’t the man I thought I knew all this time, it was unnerving, “What if I want to end it? Right now. Everything. What if I want you out of my life, forever?”

A sinister smirk appeared on Yunho’s face as he placed his hands out, caging me against the door and himself again, dipping his head down. I gulped, but stood my ground, not backing down. I held his challenging gaze, fought against his attempt at trying to intimidate me, “Then I will brand you. And no other man will touch you ever again, angel. You think you want that?”

“Fuck you, Yunho.” I hissed and slammed my hands against his chest as I pushed him back, away from myself. My mind was a mess as I tried to sort out my thoughts, to calm my nerves and the anger blooming through my whole body, “Are you fucking obsessed with me? Or what’s your fucking deal?!”

I didn’t mean to raise my voice, but I had started shaking, and the way Yunho was treating this whole ordeal wasn’t helping. He looked like we were talking about the groceries we bought, his neutral mask slipping on again, his eyes lighter, but the glint still dangerous in them.

“Wouldn’t you want to know that?” His voice was light, but the chuckle made me shiver as I shook my head, “Let me tell you this. There are no coincidences.”

And without letting me to say anything back, he unlocked the door and pulled me to the side, opening it. He smiled sweetly all of a sudden and draped an arm around my shoulders as he pulled me into his side, pressing a swift kiss against the side of my head. I hissed, but didn’t pull away, eyes searching the hallway as we stepped outside, hoping that nobody heard us.

“And now we go back and you better not hide that beautiful neck of yours, angel, maybe Wooyoung will understand finally.” Yunho chuckled like he said the funniest thing on Earth and grinned at me as I looked up at him, dumbly realizing that he’d been biting and sucking at my neck to leave marks for everyone to see. I felt mortified at the thought of everyone from the table seeing, but what I wasn’t ready for was the way Wooyoung was sitting between Mingi and Jongho now, not once meeting my eyes when we returned with Yunho, as I took my previous seat with Yunho on my right. And he went back to talking and acting like nothing happened as Mingi, him, and Jongho continued drinking, Wooyoung sometimes joining in, but not as lively as before. Mingi informed me that Seonghwa and Sooyoung had left while we were busy, Sooyoung having fallen asleep on Seonghwa’s shoulder. It felt like the night I had hoped to enjoy to the fullest was coming to a disastrous end, and I couldn’t help but cringe when I felt Yunho’s big hand wrapping around my thigh and squeezing it, leaving his hand there until we had to leave. Without many words exchanged between Yunho and I on the way back to his apartment, I knew I would be held hostage at his place for a few days, not once letting me out of his sight.

            And even with three weeks passing since that incident in the pub, things were still tense between Yunho and I. I was wary of him, rightfully so. I stopped hanging out with him for a longer period of time or too often, letting life carry on as I realized despite always working on my assignments with Yunho, I was hella behind on them. Yunho might have helped me study more, but I was behind on important sketches I had to hand in in one week maximum, and my mind was a mess at the moment as I scrambled around in the library, very possibly late to my shift at the convenience store. Mingi was kind enough to come to the library and help me out, draw a few sketches himself so that I wouldn’t have much leftover for the weekend as I had a shift each day at the store. Despite Yunho and I not talking as often as before, Mingi remained close to me and never once pressured me into talking about what was going on. He never even once mentioned Yunho, usually me being the one to bring him up, even if briefly. Mingi seemed dismissive of the subject and had said that he genuinely grew to like me and considered himself my friend, therefore he was staying neutral as Yunho kept yapping off his ears about me. I felt grateful to Mingi, happy that he wasn’t pushing anything between Yunho and I like Sooyoung was. I couldn’t tell her the full extent of our fight, and thus, she didn’t really get it why I was making such a big deal out of it. And of course, because of this, she almost daily told me how stupid I was, and how much I was fucking up everything when Yunho was literally perfect, and perfect for me as well…but if only she knew the real side of Yunho, the one he never showed at university, she wouldn’t think so highly of him.

In the sparse time that we did meet up, it usually resulted in us simply fucking and Yunho trying to make me understand as to why he kept pressing the hand at matter, and why he was so possessive. I just couldn’t find it in me to hear him out anymore, and that often times lead to us fighting again, only to have furious make-up sex. Things weren’t going well; I couldn’t find the essence of whatever was going on between the two of us anymore. I hated the fact that I got attached to him, and I hated the fact that I continuously gave in to him when I knew this wasn’t good for me anymore. And Yunho just always knew what to say to pull me back in, but what was the worst, was that I could see the sincerity on his face and the pain in his voice whenever he told me that he missed me, and that he wanted things to go back to how they were just weeks ago. And to be honest, I wanted the same thing. I wanted to forget about this whole fucked up issue at hand and just live obliviously and happily with Yunho, but I couldn’t, not when Wooyoung couldn’t even meet my eyes and barely even talked to me anymore when we crossed paths at university. I have no idea what has happened, but it wasn’t hard to guess that Mingi and Jongho must’ve talked to him while Yunho and I were in the restroom at the pub. And quite alarmingly, Wooyoung had a busted lip the following day, raising my suspicions that Yunho took this way too far. But no matter how many times I pressed him about it, he just stayed quiet, he avoided looking at me, and even acted like he couldn’t hear me. It was frustrating, so after a while, I let it go. My mind was a mess and I didn’t know how to figure things out anymore. I needed space and time away from Yunho, but he swore that if I dared disappearing or going no-contact on him, he would turn the world upside down until he found me. The look in his eyes when he said that was more than scary, and I left with my body shaking that night and calling Sooyoung to ask whether I could sleep over at her place or not.

There were times when Yunho scared me, but most of all, the scariest was the way my trust in him had started fading away, not letting me rest for one second. If I couldn’t trust him anymore, what was I doing? Why was I pressuring myself? Maybe because I did believe that Yunho would do anything to get back to me, and the fact that Sooyoung was now dating one of his close friend’s and Mingi also became a good friend of mine felt like a web, like he was a spider and I was cornered from every part, tangled up in his well-calculated web. But there was also a part of me which wished to solve all of this, to just talk it out and put it past us, because my feelings were growing for Yunho the longer we were separated. I didn’t exactly understand why, but whenever we did meet, I felt like I was whole again. Like I was at peace with myself, like I was complete. I have never ever felt like this with anyone before, and it was scary. I didn’t want him to have such power over me, but I have long stopped being able to control such feelings. I just knew that despite him scaring me sometimes, he was just as attached to me as I was to him, and he had proven numerous times that he’d bring even the stars down for me if that’s what I asked for.

I had the evening shift at the convenience store today, and by the time I could finally close it up, the streetlamps had been long turned on, the moon high up in the sky as it was clear of clouds, a few starts visible here and there. The late evening air was nothing but fresh, not chilling for once, the breeze quite invigorating as I had started getting sleepy a while ago. I’ve had a long day at university, and Yunho had been also begging me to sleep over at his apartment as we hadn’t seen each other in three days. I didn’t feel quite ready to spend the night there yet, and therefore I kindly refused him and told him I still had to study, and I didn’t want to bother him as I knew he had to go to the hospital early in the morning for his residency. There was a strange feeling of déjà vu as I turned down the side of the building, nearing the narrow passageway between the two buildings to cut short my journey towards home, the last bus having left, I had no choice but to walk. For some reason I felt uneasy as I gripped my backpack’s straps tightly in my hands and fastened my walk, my heart picking up. I couldn’t see danger, but if my body was reacting like this, I knew it had a reason, and I had to get away from here as fast as possible. But not even ten steps away from the end of the passageway, I was harshly yanked back by my backpack, gasping loudly as I was pushed into the side of the building. For a second I wished it was Yunho as my heart almost exploded by how fast it was beating, and the flashbacks I had to the night when Yunho had to save me from those three creeps freaked me out even more. What if it were them? Coming back to taunt me now that Yunho wasn’t here? But as I tried to run, I was slammed back into the brick wall and held by the collar of my jacket, immobilized against the wall as a tall form loomed over me. I felt joy for a second, hoping it was Yunho, but the man was taller and his scent was unfamiliar. He was dressed fully in black and had his face covered by a black facemask, a black beanie concealing his hair as well. As I stared into his eyes dumbfounded, I came to realize with horror, that this was the same man who had once purchased something from the convenience store, inquiring whether I worked there often.

“What—what do you want?” I managed to stammer out, making the man’s sharp eyes narrow.

“Where’s Jeong Yunho?” How did he know Yunho? Why was he looking for him? As the man’s grip tightened around my collar, I quickly shook my head, body shaking from fear of what would happen to me now. Could this possibly be someone Yunho had problems with? I did hear him once talking on the phone, threatening to kill someone if they didn’t stop trailing him. And then I remembered that Chan guy, and it just made me shake even worse. I could see the satisfaction in the man’s eyes as my eyebrows furrowed.

“I don’t know.” I lied, but it also wasn’t a lie. I really didn’t know where he was right now, maybe he was at home. The man just tsked and shook me harshly, making me whimper as he leaned closer. I tried to keep my eyes clear of tears, but even my head was shaking from fear. He was too tall and too strong for me to even try to overpower him.

“Don’t lie to me, bitch!” The man snapped and I jumped as he was suddenly shouting while being all up in my face, “I know you’re Yunho’s whore, that motherfucker! Tell me where he is!”

“I swear I don’t know!” I screamed, eyes filled with tears finally, gripping the mans gloved wrists as he slammed me into the brick wall again, making me whimper, “Please, I really don’t know. Please—”

“Shut up, whore.” The man hissed, eyes narrowing as if he remembered something, “Do you have a tattoo?”

My eyebrows furrowed as a few tears ran down my cheeks and I gulped, about to shake my head no, but I suddenly remembered that Chan guy asking me the same thing. And then my mind was a mess as I racked through memories, trying to remember what Yunho had once said about being branded by a gang.

“Speak up, bitch!” The man screamed again and I quickly nodded, gulping as I tried to look as convincing as I could.

“Yes, yes, I have!” I tried to breathe through my nose, but it was hard as my throat was closing in on me, “An A—I—I have it. Ateez, isn’t it? You know them?”

“Fuck.” The man hissed, and I could see the hatred and venom in his eyes as he yanked me into himself. Yunho had once said that if you were branded by one of the gang members as their partner, nobody else from a rival gang could touch you, unless they wanted to start a war against that gang and every other one the respective gang was in good connections with, “You stupid whore, were you branded by Jeong Yunho?”

“Yes.” I nodded, head shaking as I started sweating, praying to God this man wouldn’t ask me to show him my tattoo. If I had to—I could only fear what would happen to me as I had lied through my teeth.

“Fuck!” The man exclaimed again and suddenly let go of me, but not before raising his fisted hand and making me scream as it came towards my face. I squeezed my eyes shut and braced myself for the upcoming pain, but it never came. I was on the verge of sobbing as I opened my eyes, and I was met with the view of the man cackling and looking satisfied as my legs gave out and I slid down onto the dirty ground lifelessly, watching as he looked at his hand proudly.

“Tell Jeong Yunho, sweetheart, that what I did today was a cordial warning.” He crouched down and raised my head by my chin, almost cooing at me as I was now crying, “And that next time he’d find you dead in a ditch if he doesn’t hand over all the money he’d made on selling our stuff, sweetheart, alright?”

I sniffed as I nodded, averting my eyes as the man suddenly leaned closer, masked face pressing against my ear as his voice dropped a few octaves, “I know you weren’t branded, sweetheart, Yunho is quite bad at keeping his mouth shut about you. Isn’t that dumb? Figures he’d be smarter, sweetheart, especially considering how secretive he is about everything else. Lovely chit chat we had, enjoy the rest of your evening now!”

My whole body shook with sobs as the man walked away with a skip in his steps, laughing at my agony as I pulled my knees up into my chest, burying my head into my legs as I sobbed harder, realizing that I could’ve died right here at the hands of this man. I couldn’t think straight as I shakily took my phone out of my pocket and blindly dialed the number I knew by heart now, trying to calm my sobs, but it wasn’t working. It only rung two times before he picked up.

“Angel—”

“Yuyu—” I gasped out, sobbing harder at the hear of his voice, “Please, please, come get me, Yuyu—”

“Y/N?!” I have never heard this much emotion in Yunho’s voice before as he sounded panicked, “Where are you? What happened?!”

“The passageway on the way home.” I managed to say in one breath before hanging up and continuing to cry curled up on myself and praying that Yunho would make it here as fast as he could. It wasn’t very far from his apartment, but he’d make fifteen minutes on feet, and I felt like fifteen more minutes spent alone would kill me. I couldn’t even think about that as another wave of sobs hit my body, lungs aching as I was heaving for air.

My loud wails died down at some point as I sat numbly on the cold and dirty ground, staring off into space as I clung to my knees, hugging myself to give as much self-comfort as I could. My body didn’t stop shivering and I suddenly heard the slam of a door and feet hitting the pavement quickly, making my body tense as I realized someone was approaching me again, and quite quickly. I flinched when I felt big, warm, hands around my biceps and I shook my head, slightly fighting against the person trying to hold me, until I heard their voice, “Y/N, it’s me. Yunho, Yuyu. What happened, oh my god, are you alright?”

And I looked ahead, eyes falling on the familiar soft face of Yunho’s, chocolate brown eyes filled to the brim with worry, and lips downturned as he looked like he was fighting his own tears. It made my own eyes fill up with tears again as I suddenly sprung forward, clinging to Yunho as he fell back without complaining, and allowed me to crawl into his lap as I held tightly onto him, burying my head in his pink hoodie, his cologne familiar and bringing the comfort I much needed. I started crying again, a lot quieter this time, as my body shook and Yunho lightly swayed us, holding me tightly against himself as he patted the back of my head with one hand. His other palm was pressed flatly against my back, making me wonder when had my backpack slipped off.

“I’m here now, it’s okay.” Yunho whispered into my ear as he pressed a chaste kiss against my temple, “You’re safe with me, angel, you’re safe. It’s alright, don’t be scared anymore.”

I sniffed as my tears somehow stopped falling, eyes dry and burning as I buried my nose into Yunho’s neck, tightening my arms around his neck as his body molded against mine, allowing me to disappear into him. Yunho kept pressing kisses against my temple, muttering reassuring words as he not once stopped petting my head. It felt like my mind and body finally calmed down, the aggressive shaking turned into a tremor and I tried to speak, but my throat was hoarse. I licked my lips and sniffed loudly, clearing my throat as I clutched at Yunho’s nape, closing my eyes as I pressed them against the warm skin of his smooth neck.

“Yunho, they—” My throat closed in one me and I had to pause as my lips trembled again, “He said he’d kill me next time.”

My voice was barely above a whisper and my body tensed as it felt Yunho tensing against me, his grip suddenly tightening against me. For once it didn’t feel restrictive, it felt safe, “He said, if—if you don’t hand over the money you made selling their stuff, I’ll—they’ll kill me.”

Yunho’s loud cursing took me off guard and the second he felt me tensing, he quickly quieted down and pressed again kisses against my neck, switching to mutter reassuring things once again, “They won’t ever again touch you, Y/N, I swear on what’s dearest to me. I won’t let them. Never. Ever.”

“Yunho, I—” I sniffed and pried myself slowly back so that I could look in his eyes, “I lied to them about the tattoo.”

I pressed a hand against his chest, where his own branded A tattoo was, and Yunho bit his lower lip, “But they knew I didn’t have it, Yunho.”

His eyebrows furrowed even more as his face was full of confusion, hand coming to cup my cheek as his other hand slipped to my waist, “How did they know…”

“They said you talk a lot about me.” My voice was quiet as Yunho and I looked into each other’s eyes, making him gulp as he looked shameful.

“Fuck, this is all my fault.” He let out a breath and my heart clenched seeing him like this, “Fuck, I’m so fucking stupid. There’s a mole in our gang.”

I just looked at Yunho as his soft features switched into one of pure fury, warm eyes on fire as he looked down to the side. My chest felt heavy as I was finally able to release a long sigh, chewing on my lower lip. If I was involved with Yunho, would I ever be safe? Was there really a guaranteed way to protect myself if he wasn’t around? Was there a way to prevent another situation like this one from happening?

“If I—if I get the tattoo,” My voice was quiet as Yunho slowly looked back at me, a newfound glint appearing in his eyes, “will they never again touch me? Will I be safe?”

“You’re safest with me.” The answer was instant, but then he nodded, “But yes, the tattoo is the closest thing you can get to keeping yourself as safe as if you were with me, angel.”

I gulped, feeling crestfallen at what I was about to ask, “Do you think I could get it tonight?”

I had no idea what the time was, but it certainly would be nearing midnight soon. Yunho’s face was rendered with surprise, until very slowly, a smirk appeared on his lips, cupping my cheeks as he pulled our faces inches away from each other, “Yeah, I know a place.”

I let out a shaky breath and closed my eyes as I nodded, “Okay, let’s go there.”

“Fuck,” A rasped breath left Yunho’s lips, “I love you. Y/N, I’m fucking in love with you.”

And before my eyes could fly open in shock, Yunho’s lips were pressing against mine softly, but urgently, making my whole-body light up with fire. I kissed him back with a newfound passion as my eyebrows furrowed and my lips moved against his firmly, trying to convey everything I felt into the kiss. I never thought I’d hear those words leave Yunho’s lips, certainly not directed at me, and it shook my whole being. The kiss didn’t last for long, but when Yunho pulled back, he pressed three more kisses against my lips, peppering my face with even more, making me melt into him.

“God, I’m so in love with you it’s painful, Y/N.” He whispered against my skin and my heart clenched at his confession, making me bite my lower lip as I opened my eyes. Yunho was already watching me and it surprised me seeing adoration written all over his face, in his eyes, on his lips as he pressed a small kiss against my nose, “Let’s go, Wooyoung will probably be elated to talk to you again.”

“Wooyoung?” How was he suddenly important?

“Yeah, he does all the branding on our gang members—” I didn’t like the amused look on Yunho’s face as he slowly peeled me off himself as I came to stand shakily, “Did you think I was the only member of Ateez?”

“No, I—” I shrugged, head thumping by now, “I don’t know, I never thought about it.”

“Yeah, angel,” Yunho chuckled as he took my hand and lead me towards his black Maserati, “how do you think I met Jongho and Seonghwa?”

I gulped, something coiling in my gut. What had I gotten myself into? “And Mingi?”

“We’re best friends since primary school, but yeah, he’s also part of Ateez.” And suddenly the picture-perfect image I had of Mingi in my head came crashing down too, just like the unease as I thought about Wooyoung and his bubbly personality, wondering just how many more people around me were involved with gang activity.

Yunho opened the door for me and helped me inside as my body still had slight tremors, the shock not having worn off entirely, and suddenly he raised my hand to his mouth and pressed a kiss against my knuckles, “I love you.”

And I would say it back at my own pace, and when I truly felt that I loved him. There were too many things he was still hiding from me. Issues we still had to solve. Love, was something I was scared to admit to feeling just yet towards Jeong Yunho. He was everlasting and encompassing, ravishing your whole being, keeping you locked in. And if he really loved me, I knew he would wait for me, I knew he would want me to be sure of it when saying it back. I didn’t know what the future had in store, but if Yunho swore to keep me safe, I blindly put my trust in him once again, praying to stay oblivious to the dark world he was meddling in. Perhaps a few more flower bouquets, and I might just say it back.

But deep down, I already knew I was in love with the man sitting next to me in the car, with Jeong Yunho.

⟨Masterlist⟩

[genericpuff]

Can you call Tina Belcher driving through a parking lot at an anxious snail's pace a driving "style"? So why do we try to use "style" as a defense for LO's pacing problems?

There's something about how Lore Olympus engrosses people within its weekly doses of H x P content and cliffhangers that makes people not realize just how long Lore Olympus takes to get to the point of, well, anything. Many plotlines are setup, and then go untouched for weeks, sometimes months at a time, before seeing any sort of progress, much less a resolution. In this, I'm going to actually give you time ranges on some of the more egregious payoffs and continuations of plotlines that were setup - some that are now resolved, others that have yet to see the light of day.

CONTENT WARNING: I will be discussing the SA plotline, and there will be spoilers for Episode 265. I will also be showing pictures of some rancid ass tattoos, I know that sounds random for what we're discussing, but trust me on this one, I have a point to make. Also there's a Junji Ito panel from The Enigma of Amigara Fault... yeah, that one.

LEUCE

Let's start with an easy one that's not exactly tied to the main plot. The Leuce plotline. She was first introduced in Episode 201 as a 'bargaining chip' from Zeus to Hades, in a misfired attempt to get Hades to call a truce over the embargo between the Underworld and Olympus.

At the time of this episode's release, by all accounts this seemed to be a cut and dry reference to Hades' first wife, Leuce, unfortunately reduced to a mail-order bride who Hades, of course, turns down, because he doesn't want the "I can't believe it's not butter" Persephone, he wants overpriced, tastes-the-same-but-costs-more-because-of-the-brand-name Persephone.

But then she came back, 36 episodes later - in real time, this was roughly 38 weeks for free-to-read users as the series went on a 2 week hiatus near the start of S3 - only to be used as a cliffhanger leading into a recycled Minthe plotline, in which she attempted to seduce Hades in Episode 238, only to be shot down for the second time.

If you're having a tough time wrapping your head around how long 36 weeks really is, that's nine months. If you got pregnant when Leuce was first revealed, you'd be entering the final window of pregnancy by the time she returned, assuming the baby didn't come pre-term.

Another 7 weeks later, enough time to actually get pregnant again following that first baby, we got the sudden continuation of that plot, with Persephone invading her home and filling it with barn animals, with a not-so-subtle threat to Leuce to stay away from her husband.

"But what about the text messages? Were they really from Hades?" Well, if you were someone reading this comic in real time, you wouldn't have this question answered for another SIX EPISODES - that's a month and a half in real time - and the answer would ultimately be "she made it up, she was 'manifesting', none of it's real, they should call her Deleuceional!" Six weeks for a nothingburger answer to wrap up a nothingburger sideplot, all in the pursuit to 'prove' for the 1275903729 time that Hades and Persephone are truly meant to be together.

EROS AND PSYCHE

This is a big one. The Eros x Psyche plotline was one of the most popular romance subplots, second only to Hades and Persephone, throughout the comic. And yet, despite people holding their breath to see what would become of the star-crossed lovers, a mortal and a god-

-readers in September 2021 would not find out how their recent skirmish with Apollo in Episode 171 would resolve itself until Episode 218, A YEAR AND TWO MONTHS - ROUGHLY 60 WEEKS AND A MIDSEASON HIATUS - LATER, and even then it would only show us Eros, who quickly summarizes what happened to him during the entire trial and Kronos arc that his anticipated romance storyline got sidelined for - he got married and now he has a child.

And it wouldn't be for ANOTHER six weeks that his wife and the mother of his child would actually show up, not alongside Eros, but Aphrodite and Hephaestus, in Episode 224.

What happened to her after finally having her 'true form' revealed to Eros? Well, that's not shown for another three weeks in Episode 227. During this a bunch of info about how Psyche got out of that sticky Apollo situation is dumped on us and we just have to go along with it as she becomes a goddess, not because she earned a place among the Olympians, but because Zeus needs her to spy on Apollo, which was actually shown one episode prior in 226.

So let's say you got knocked up again after that Leuce baby, when Eros and Psyche were shot out of the sky. Welp, in the time it took for Rachel to get around explaining what happened to the both of them, now you just had your second baby and for all we know, you could have gone for a third and already be well into or near the end of your first trimester, if you really wanted to get busy. You'd have a Dionysus, a Melinoe, and maybe even a Demophoon. Congratulations.

And speaking of Melinoe-

MELINOE

Turns out the interloper and the child in Tartarus were one and the same, or at least that's what I'm assuming, because otherwise that would mean there's some whole ass other baby to worry about that we haven't even been introduced to yet.

Melinoe, or "the child deity", was first established in Episode 218.

But as per LO tradition, the child would only mentioned in passing every now and then until finally being revealed as Melinoe in Episode 252, a whopping... THIRTY EIGHT FUCKING WEEKS LATER.

And that waiting is still ongoing as Melinoe is, of course, still trapped in Tartarus, with no end in sight. Since then, Hades and Persephone have gotten married, kidnapped a child, Persephone has terrorized a nymph and caused yet ANOTHER genocide, and they've resurrected a child that was suddenly revealed to be Demeter's. Thirty eight weeks and counting of dragging on a plotline that we're supposed to believe is dire while the characters do sweet fuck all.

What was the name of that other dream baby that Rachel referenced from some obscure non-legitimate source?

Riiiight, Brimos. Congrats, there's pregnancy number 4. But can we find a way to make a fifth happen?

KASSANDRA

We're first introduced to Kassandra, another implied victim of Apollo's, in Episode 226 when a photo of her is found on Apollo's pen drive which was conveniently left on the ground for Psyche to swipe.

In Episode 227, they theorize on how they could track down this mystery woman, using either Eros or Aphrodite's abilities to find her through the power of

✨love✨

How will that actually work though? Has anyone ever been in love with Kassandra, or has she ever been in love with anyone else?

Any bets on how long it would be until we'd get our answer?

Episode 251. The same episode where we're finally told about Leuce's delusions, we suddenly skip to the reveal of Kassandra being Apollo's personal oracle.

And it still doesn't end up answering our question as to how Kassandra was tracked down, by the way. Eros and Psyche sorta just conveniently find her at the same time Apollo happens to be there when he's getting her to deliver her big prophecy to him.

That's twenty four weeks, meaning you're now near the end of your second trimester with child #4. Whoever the child is remains to be seen but I'm sure Rachel will find a way to shoehorn another helpless baby into the plot for Hades and Persephone to rescue who we can use for this metaphor.

But none of these come close to the greatest unresolved plotline of them all, the one plotline that has outlasted even the main H x P plotline of Lore Olympus' story-

APOLLO

Or more specifically, the SA. Rachel has tried so hard to twist Apollo into a villain of Disney proportions, through his sudden involvement with Ouranos, while also using him as a mouthpiece for her own critics by having him literally dish out word-for-word the criticisms that have been made towards Rachel's writing of Persephone-

But the core foundation of his plotline goes all the way back to 2018, when he assaulted Persephone, a plotline that has yet to resolve itself or show any progression beyond Rachel's half-baked attempts at speedrunning Persephone's healing process, while Apollo is still at large and hasn't been brought to justice.

We've seen her in very poorly-written therapy where her assault was addressed once. We've seen her grapple with the potential consequences of the SA through a gynecologist scene that, as I've discussed before, does more harm than good in helping the discussion around women's sexual health. And of course, Rachel will pepper in vague references to the SA every now and then when she's bothered to remember that it's a plotline she wrote and still hasn't resolved:

And judging by how the story has been progressing, Rachel seems far more intent on simply using Apollo as a mouthpiece for criticism and a puppet for Ouranos rather than focusing on the bigger issues, all while Persephone has helped more people cope with the assault that happened to her rather than receiving help herself.

What's really telling is that despite half of the Olympians at this point knowing what Apollo did, not one of them even tries to convince Persephone to come forward, or say something themselves. Daphne has more than enough reason to come forward. Artemis, Hera, Eros, Hermes, and Hephaestus all know what he did, and yet none of them say a thing, even when those of them who haven't been conveniently shoehorned out of the plot are still in the same room as him-

The assault scene happened in August 2018. It's been five and a half years since it was established, and while there have been small efforts made to resolve it - from Hera and Hephaestus having the photos deleted to Persephone seeking therapy - there's less reason now than ever for it to not be addressed, especially with so much at stake. I could side with Persephone not wanting to say anything in the beginning, when he was blackmailing her with the photos and her TGOEM scholarship was on the line, but now that she's a Queen, rich, and married to Hades, living in the Underworld where he can't get to her, without any schooling or scholarship or job to worry about or the photos hanging over her head, it comes across as flat out irresponsible that not a single person thinks it's worth mentioning. Even the narrative itself seems to be trying to undo the SA entirely.

At this point, I'm not confident it will be mentioned at all, and that Apollo will be conveniently dealt with as a pawn of Ouranos rather than as a perpetrator of violence towards women.

A FINAL ANALYSIS OF LO'S PACING

There are certainly far more examples of this weekly edging happening throughout LO, but I hope the ones I provided get across the point I'm trying to make about its pacing.

Of course, none of these gaps in time are happening back-to-back-to-back. This is Lore Olympus' writing "style", if you can call it that - constantly bombard the reader with separate plot points so that they'll either not remember the ones that were left behind, or so that Rachel can buy herself time to get herself out of the corner she wrote herself into. It's the equivalent of clickbait, constantly grabbing your attention with shiny new things that will replace whatever you just saw in your brain, on a constantly repeating cycle. It's the writing process of inexperienced amateurs, like what you'd see in short stories written by fifth graders - "and then this happened, and then this happened, and then this happened", with no theme or overarching meaning tying them together; and if you were to ask them why a certain thing happens, especially if it logically doesn't make sense, the answer is just, "well, because it does." There's no rhyme or reason, they just thought it was cool.

And I say "style" because while fans of LO have definitely defended the story's pacing as just a writing style, the actual execution of what they're implying is painful to watch and not what any experienced writer would call a legitimate style. It's not uncommon at all in long-running series like this to jump from plotline to plotline, often times longform stories like these have to balance multiple side plots at once to keep things engaging and to bulk up the plot with more actual content.

But in most cases, the reader will expect the speed of a plot's resolution to be relative to its urgency. If a casual B plot with low stakes is introduced, it's not necessarily doing any harm if it just sits there for a bit before finally being resolved. After all, it's low stakes and no one is being hurt by it existing on the sidelines. It might feel a bit like pointless fluff, but there's nothing necessarily wrong with fluff and it can offer fun and relaxed reprieves from the overarching narrative, assuming you integrate them well so they're not drawing attention away from those more urgent plotlines at the worst possible times (looking at you, Stranger Things S2 Episode 7-)

But when even the high stakes plots are being hung out to dry and treated like distractions and fluff, it comes across less like a decisive writing "style" and more just directionless pantsing from an inexperienced writer who's gotten themselves in way too deep.

And that's what really separates Rachel's writing problems from "style". Style is decisive. Style is the act of referencing over a set period of time, crafting what you like and what you've learned into something new, with rounds and rounds of fine-tuning. Style is experience put into action.

And, while I don't typically like using my own work as a comparison, LORE | REKINDLED is meant to try and recapture the original magic of Lore Olympus' art style and writing foundations - and even then, you can still see the clear difference between Episodes 14 and 44, which use the same panel from the same scene, but look vastly different due to the improvement and refinement that's happened over time.

Same style, but different levels of experience and skill, which is to be expected after weeks and weeks of fine-tuning and deliberate practice.

If you're lacking in your fundamentals, whether in art or writing, you can't equate that lack of skill to "style" because you're not choosing to be inexperienced, you just are. And that's okay! But to try and pass it off as 'style' implies that you're choosing to be inexperienced - when in reality, if you tried to put out anything beyond your skill level, you simply wouldn't be able to, because you haven't gained those skills yet. Like fifth graders writing short stories with the "and then this happened" model, "it's just my style" is often used as an excuse by young artists and writers who don't understand that style is not exclusively an end result of inexperience.

I'm gonna go on a tangent here, but there's this controversial but trendy style in tattooing called 'ignorant', and it's best defined as "tattooing badly on purpose".

These tattoos are regularly praised for their simplistic ingenuity and visual aesthetic but equally criticized for being the opposite of what many artists have worked to overcome - being "bad at art". After all, who would willingly pay for a bad-looking tattoo? It's because it's the style that's in demand. I would argue that it takes a lot of confidence and mastery of the craft to be purposefully bad at it and make it look good, as contradictory as that sounds.

As much as the lines may be wobbly and the anatomy poor, ignorant style tattoos are done purposefully by experienced artists who still know how to properly tattoo. As much as they may look like they were drawn by a middle schooler, they will still heal properly, the lines will hold up, and the client will not (or at least, should not) experience any excessive scarring or unhygienic practices as one would experience from an actual inexperienced artist-

In a genuinely poorly-done tattoo, the evidence of the inexperience is literally written all over the body. The skin swells, the ink bleeds out, the lines are inconsistent in their depth, and there's clear signs of trauma to the skin that will undoubtedly result in a poorly-healed tattoo (and that's not even getting into the larger health risks such as contracting blood diseases due to a poorly kept space). It's not hard to see the difference between a bad tattoo and a tattoo that's intentionally bad.

It's the age old saying in a different medium - only once you learn the rules can you properly break them.

Rachel never learned these rules in her writing and it's evident to anyone who knows these rules and is viewing LO through a critical lens - or in my case, experiencing it on a week to week basis. It's a regularly occurring problem in the medium of webcomics as a whole - thinking that knowing how to draw is enough, and that writing comes dead last, if at all. When in reality, comics are a marriage of art and writing, you can't simply do one really well and allow the other to drag behind. That's not to say there aren't comics that succeed at having bad art and good writing, if anything a well-written comic can save bad art-

But if you have a comic with good art and bad writing, that's when a comic opens itself up to harsher criticism. As much as art may be the visual forefront of comics, if you want to keep your audience along for the long road that stretches ahead, you need to have a strong foundation in writing, or at least, enough of a plan to ensure you're not driving in the dark. The art can be as gorgeous as you want it to be, but if the plot is weak, then no one will have any reason to check back in week to week.

And such is Lore Olympus' biggest weakness. Much of what we praise LO for back in its first season was simply its foundation. It's very easy to praise a story's writing when it hasn't had to payoff what it's setup. Having ideas is easy, and early LO is rife with good ideas - but many of those ideas have since fallen flat, even the ones you wouldn't expect.

Ideas are a dime a dozen, but actually executing them in a way that can be engaging from start to finish and resolve itself in a way that's satisfying is a whole other challenge that many creators, including Rachel, find themselves unable to tackle; and nothing is a greater example of that than LO's third season, which is now fumbling its plotlines that have failed to resolve themselves properly after 5 years, while introducing new ones that serve as mere distractions, as if they were a laser pointer aimed at a cat.

I hear the argument, "LO is a better story if you binge read it" a lot, which - while I can certainly understand in today's culture of content that's churned out to be binged - I still fail to see how it actually makes LO a better story. Binge-reading LO doesn't remove the pointless plotlines. It doesn't fix its blatant timeline problems, its retcons, or its inability to stay focused on one topic for more than 5 panels. All it really fixes is the waiting, the ritualistic toiling over each and every cliffhanger that caps off the weekly episodes just for them to either be resolved in the next week or left behind with no in-between. And while having all that waiting removed certainly makes the reading experience a lot smoother, it doesn't make the story or its writing better.

The relationship between a story's writing and how the audience experiences it shouldn't be overlooked. Many stories depend on how the audience experiences it within the mind to succeed and leave an impression.

Junji Ito utilizes the dreaded page turn to scare his audience, an effect that can only be truly gained and appreciated if you read his books in traditional print.

Marvel spent years meticulously building up its Avengers franchise, culminating in a once-in-a-lifetime cinematic event through Avengers: Endgame, which is truly the epitome of "you had to be there", because if you watch Avengers: Endgame in 2024 in your living room, you're likely not going to experience the same level of hype as audiences experiencing it in the theater in 2019.

The same can be said for James' Cameron's Avatar, which entranced audiences with its innovative motion capture CGI and immersive 3D effects, an experience that could only be lived to the fullest if you saw it in 3D in IMAX theaters back in 2009. Without that experience, most people in 2024 find the movie to be pretty generic and uninteresting, a reverse Pocahontas with blue people in space, but when it first released in IMAX theaters in 2009, it was a cultural and technological phenomenon due to how advanced it was in its VFX. I can't even share with you clips of it, because obviously it would just be proving my point to try and show you how groundbreaking Avatar was in theaters through a bad shaky cam Youtube upload of its IMAX release on Youtube, but let's just say that it wasn't uncommon for people to brag about how many times they'd gone back to watch the same movie just to feel what they felt from the first showing all over again.

All that's to say that while Lore Olympus may offer a 'better' reading experience when binge-read - regardless of whether or not it actually helps the story's pacing problems - the reality is that LO is still being written exclusively with the weekly format in mind, and its been very much to its detriment, both in the short-term and in the long-term. Readers are often left in the dark on plotlines for weeks at a time, Rachel loses track of what she has and hasn't addressed, and the extended waiting times trick readers into believing that weeks have passed in the comic's story, when in reality it's only been a day or two, sometimes as little as hours depending on the sequence; meanwhile, if you binge episodes that had those problems in hindsight, you'll likely be a lot more quick to notice how many plot beats are either retconned or abandoned entirely, because you don't have the weekly waiting times artificially inflating the pacing of the story and causing you to forget what was established weeks before, because when binged, those weeks are reduced to hours and minutes.

And worst of all, with the assumption that you're reading on a weekly basis - as it wants you to do - Rachel tries to pull clever stunts by matching up LO's episodes with real life dates and holidays, which often just makes the story beats feel rushed or random in their execution - because to the vast majority of readers who haven't caught on to this or are reading the episodes through the physical books, they are rushed and random, and they can't exactly explain why.

Binging these episodes doesn't solve the problem, if anything it exemplifies them because, as a shining example, Hades and Persephone suddenly get married right in the middle of an ongoing issue, which isn't exactly the best time to wrap up the story's main plotline. Since then readers have become less and less interested in their story, and can you blame them? By all accounts their story is over. Everything now just feels tacked on to give them something to do in a story they no longer fit into.

There's an episode behind the FastPass lock right now, Episode 265. It unlocks for free on February 17th, three days after Valentine's Day. Guess what episode it is?

Ah yes, the episode where Hades' initiates sex without consent with his wife who's suffering from panic attacks, who also happens to be a rape victim. Happy Valentine's Day, everyone.

I actually made this particular discovery while writing this essay, so that was a very unwelcome surprise, but it explains the sudden random shift from Persephone being so stressed over the ongoing situation that she's passed out to Hades just deciding for the both of them that now's the time to have sex. As much as the fans will defend this as a husband and wife's last chance at intimacy before diving into a dangerous situation, they'll also still conveniently forget - just like the narrative and Rachel herself - that Persephone is a rape victim, and Hades initiating sex with her after nearly having a panic attack isn't exactly a good look.

This is why our theories as to when LO ends are so firmly cemented in one specific time range, because the story's pacing and distractions seem only intent in one thing - getting the story to last until spring, when the series will most likely conclude. It's basically been all but confirmed by Rachel, from her stating the series would be ending in early 2024, to Inklore - an imprint that seems designed specifically for Rachel and LO - launching officially in spring of this year, undoubtedly just in time for Rachel to wrap up LO for good.

(and boy, do I have some words about Inklore and its plans for "Rachel Smythe Presents", but that's another essay entirely.)

At the end of the day, LO's pacing is equivalent to paint drying on the wall, but it relentlessly convinces us to keep watching because the paint is blue and pink and maybe, maybe it'll turn into a piece of art. But as is evident in the comment sections of the newest episodes, even the fans are starting to realize that paint will not magically turn into the final piece of art they've been waiting to see if the hand that wields it doesn't know what it's doing.

Though style may be gained as an accidental side effect of one's influences and experiences, what Lore Olympus' intent is remains to be seen, and the longer the story goes on, the blurrier whatever intent it could have becomes. Unless it somehow manages to pull off a twist of Attack on Titan proportions that thoroughly explains and ties together the plotlines that have been left in the rearview mirror, the vehicle that is LO will continue to trudge along at a snail's pace, until it inevitably either crosses the finish line or crashes - but by that point, anyone waiting for it could very well be gone, their good faith left behind at the starting line when there was still plenty of time to change its trajectory or stop.

Such a time is long, long gone.

[angel-of-the-moons]

Kuai Liang/Harumi x fem reader who is really dense and doesn’t realize the two are attracted to her. So dense the two of them have to spell it out for her cause no amount of flirting is getting through her head.

sfw or nsfw I really don’t care.

NONNY I ACTUALLY LOVE THIS WE NEED SOME HARUMI CONTENT! Also enjoy my totally original and not punny at all title

Pyromance

Kuai Liang (Scorpion) x Harumi Shirai x Fem!Reader

TW/CW: None, fluffy stuff, some flirting, reader being oblivious

A/N: Given that there's only a small tidbit of info on Harumi in Liu Kang's timeline, I'm going off of what little is mentioned in-game and on Wikipedia. Also deadass I want a mandarin duck so fucking bad.

🔥🏵️🔥🏵️🔥🏵️🔥🏵️🔥🏵️

You weren't sure why you were born the way that you were. But when a man with glowing eyes showed up at your crappy little cabin in the mountains, saying he was a god? Yeah, only you would have that kind of interaction.

You didn't believe him until he displayed his powers with fire and explained to you that your powers were only a danger to you.

Yes, powers. You had something called pyromancy, you could summon flames or heat things with your very mind and hands.

So when this "Liu Kang" told you about a clan in Japan called the Shirai Ryu? And that they would welcome you with open arms? You were hesitant to accept.

On one hand, your powers were dangerous, and if you continued to slip up you'd wind up burning your own cabin down, cause a wildfire or... hurt someone. That last one was your greatest fear.

But on the other hand? You'd never even been outside Montana. And Liu Kang wanted you to fly across the world to friggin' Japan? The thought scared you shitless.

You gave him your word that you would think it over for two days. Liu Kang offered to bring someone to you to explain how the clan worked, and you accepted the offer. Perhaps hearing from someone from there would help your decision along.

Liu Kang returned in a ball of fire, alongside him was a woman dressed in a gold and crimson kimono, her long, silky black hair hanging down past her shoulders, twin katanas slung from her obi.

This was Harumi Shirai, for whom the clan was named. Her husband, the Grandmaster of their clan, Kuai Liang was indisposed with new recruits, as was his younger brother Tomas.

She stayed with you, explaining the nuances of their clan and how open-minded they were to your situation. They offered to allow you to bring your comforts (which were admittedly few. You were a bit of a recluse out of necessity due to your powers.) to their compound if you accepted.

She was a beautiful woman, and her words and voice put your nerves at ease.

Of course, two days later. You accepted.

You found yourself in a bit of a culture shock, certainly. But true to Harumi's word, the Shirai Ryu were accepting of you in a way you never anticipated. Training with Kuai Liang allowed you to feel... normal. You'd never felt normal a day in your life. It was nice, to feel so in-place where you always were an enigma before.

Harumi and Kuai were very warm to you (pun intended!) as time went on and your skills flourished. You weren't one for combat, but you excelled in using your powers for defensive stances. When Harumi began teaching you to use her katanas (such an honor) she and Kuai were proud and impressed you used your flames now so effortlessly to ignite the blades without melting it.

To congratulate your progress, they had a custom blade made for you. You were honored that they accepted you so wholly and you found yourself wondering if you truly wanted to return to rural Montana after learning of all of the wonders you'd been blind to before.

What you never really realized though, was that Harumi and Kuai would often take time to spend with you, speak with you about things not related to the clan or your training.

Kuai would ask about your life, your hobbies. When you admitted you liked flowers, he gifted you two potted spider lilies.

Their alien appearance immediately enamored you, as you'd never seen them before, their bright scarlet colors catching the eye and brightening up your room.

And of course, with Harumi... She would join you in the baths. In Japan it was fairly common of course, just not as traditional as what was built in the Shirai Ryu compound.

You were never one for insecurities and Harumi loved that about you. In the baths you would talk about anything that would come to mind, and she would often find herself drawn to your hair, of all things. She adored touching it and putting the shampoo and conditioners in it for you, and combing it out. The color and feel of it beneath her fingers quickly became a favorite.

But despite all of this you were completely, frustratingly and blissfully unaware that Harumi and Kuai Liang were in fact romantically interested in you. Their little gestures were so obvious, it even had Tomas facepalming when nobody was looking because of how painful it was to watch you not even recognize their obvious intent to court you.

It became a topic of hushed gossip and side-betting amongst the clan, wondering who would crack first, or when--if ever--you realized what they were doing.

🔥🏵️🔥🏵️🔥🏵️🔥🏵️🔥🏵️

"I swear... She's so sweet... but so dense!" Harumi laughed, the back of her hand over her forehead as she laid on their bed.

Kuai Liang shook his head with a smile as he undid his robes, leaving his torso bare as he looked at his wife. He shared her humorous exasperation with your oblivious nature, but still found it endearing.

Kuai knelt on the bed and leaned over Harumi, giving her a soft kiss to her lips as she sunk her fingers in his dark hair, tugging it free of its tie; allowing the dark strands to fall around his face as he smiled down at her.

"Perhaps it is time we drop the subtlety, my love." Kuai said softly, resting on his elbow as he looked down at Harumi.

"Do you think we should?" She hummed, trailing her knuckles across his jawline, reaching up with her fingertips to gently trace the scar going down his face.

"I don't see why not. Otherwise we will be performing this dance for some time." He grinned.

"Kuai, what if she isn't interested?" Harumi sighed sadly, her brows raising in concern.

"Then we respect her wishes and accept her friendship instead. I would be glad for her companionship either way." He said simply.

Harumi's beautiful, Cupid's bow lips curled into a smile.

"You're right. Either way, having her close is a blessing. One we will accept no matter the context. We can speak with her in the morning."

🔥🏵️🔥🏵️🔥🏵️🔥🏵️🔥🏵️

You were standing beneath the sakura and plum blossom trees surrounding the sizeable pond in the compound. It was your favorite spot to be because it had the least traffic and the small bridge going over it was perfect for watching the koi as they danced beneath the water.

But your favorite place to sit was beneath the trees near the shoreline. Due mostly in part to the small flock of Mandarin ducks that called the compound home, the little feathery critters took a shine to you, especially after you nursed one of their flock back to health when her poor little leg got broken.

That and, well. They knew you had grapes at the ready, plus a small container of oats you'd feed them out of your hand.

The Mandarin ducks were the most gorgeous you'd ever seen; the males' colors were like a silky orchestra of hues and cute little plumages that admittedly looked a tad silly, but still looked beautiful. The females were lacking in the colors the males had, but you adored their little spots and speckles.

Oftentimes, you'd wind up with one of the younger males cuddled comfortably in your lap, tucking himself under his wings to nap on the silk of your robes while you stroked his feathers.

And it was here that Harumi and Kuai Liang found you, sitting beneath the trees, blossoms that had been shaken loose by the breeze falling around you like a beautiful rain as you fed the ducks from your palm, laughing to yourself as their little bills tickled your hand.

They stood there, merely watching for a few moments until Kuai nudged Harumi on, and they slowly made their way to you as a young female duck hopped into your lap, trying to snitch some extra snacks from you.

Their footsteps were light, to avoid frightening your feathery little companions as they closed on you.

Harumi spoke your name softly and you looked up with an abashed smile. "Oh! I would get up, but..." You looked done at the female water fowl in your lap, as she snuggled down, her tail feathers wiggling contentedly.

Kuai couldn't help but chuckle as he and Harumi sat next to you. The little birds seemed so fond of you. It was cute.

He slowly reached out to try and pet the female in your lap, but she puffed up and made a rather angry noise that plainly said "back off", which made you and Harumi giggle.

"It would seem your charm does not work on all women, my love." Harumi smirked.

"Yes, yes, that is painfully obvious." Kuai replied with a smile, shaking his head as the duck turned back around in your lap, accepting your soothing pets to her feathers.

"Is something the matter?" You ask them curiously.

Harumi and Kuai Liang exchange a long, silent glance which slightly concerns you.

"Kuai and I discussed something last night." Harumi told you.

"Okay..."

"And we both decided to ask you something." Kuai continues. "You understand the things we do for you? Not the training, but the smaller things."

"Like... My sword? And the flowers?" You say, your brows furrowing slowly.

"Yes." Harumi chuckles. "Do you understand why we did those things for you?"

You tilt your head. "To... be... nice?"

Harumi and Kuai chuckle together, grinning at one another at how sweetly oblivious you were. They look back at you and Kuai talks. "And you don't have any other inclination, dear? At all?"

Other inclination? What could--did he just call you dear? What could he be talking...

Your eyes get big and you cover your mouth in sheer horror, your face flushing in embarrassment as you awkwardly look away.

"Oh."

Harumi giggles and has to cover her mouth and cough to chase it away, Kuai Liang merely shakes his head and chuckles softly.

"We've been trying to court you. You're a wonderful person, an amazing woman." Harumi says, giving you a soft look. "We've both been rather... Smitten with you, as of late. We'd hoped you'd realize what our intentions were on your own, but..."

You cover your face and make an embarrassed squeak. "Oh, my god..."

"However." Kuai Liang said, holding his hands up. "We both agreed last night that if you do not reciprocate, we will still gladly accept your friendship."

Your hands drop and you look at them, the surprise evident on your face as you watch Harumi smile at you, her hand slipping into Kuai's.

"We hold nothing but respect for whatever decision you shall make." She told you.

You couldn't believe it. It just seemed so unreal..so unreal that these two amazingly strong, wonderful, beautiful people took a look at you and decided that they wanted you?

You. Of all the people they could possibly pick? A little country bumpkin from Montana?

You look down, petting your little duck friend as she contentedly snuggled you, a couple of her flock-mates snuggling your left thigh.

You close your eyes and take a deep breath.

"...I... I'm open to trying?" You finally say, giving them a shy smile.

Harumi and Kuai's tense postures dropped as they both smiled widely, and Harumi leaned in to kiss your cheek happily.

"We will do our best to prove everything we mean to you." She swears.

Kuai Liang moves towards you and leans in to do the same, his hand brushing your cheek. "We will do everything--"

He was cut off by the female duck in your lap turning around, her tail wiggling and her feathers fluffing up as she opens her mouth and makes more angry noises, making Kuai lean away from you before she is angered any further.

"Ah... The only woman you cannot charm!" Harumi teased as the two of you broke out laughing; whilst Kuai was still unable to give you the small display of affection his wife had given you, all because of the feathered menace that took residence in your comfy lap.

He merely glared at the offensive little bird in your lap as she snuggled back down, staring Kuai back right in the eye as if to say "try me".

[lockewrites]

Durge!Reader being comforted by Halsin

Reader (gender not specified) x Halsin || SFW-ish (slightly violent) || 2390 words AO3

From anon on Tumblr: I feel like theres a real lack of Halsin/durge fics, specifically him helping her after denying to kill, and I think you’d be amazing for this!!

SPOILERS FOR DURGE IN ACT II - wrote the scene Larian denied us with Halsin as our LI :3

You lie on your bedroll, the stars hidden behind the cloth of your tent, the air within suddenly feeling as though it’s not enough to breathe. Sitting up, a wave of nausea roils through you, bile eating away at the back of your throat; each breath in creates a ripple in your gut. You crawl out of your tent, desperate for the open air; your movements are slow as you push to your feet, fearing your stomach will empty itself.

This sensation is certainly not a stranger; you’ve felt it a number of times since waking from the illithid pod. 

The campfire has long since died, and with it is the absence of your companions, each lost in a trance or dreams. You’re grateful for the solitude; they’re aware of your… general situation, or at least as much of it as you know yourself, but they needn’t see you in such a state. 

Your eyes flicker to Halsin’s tent; the druid had quickly drawn your interest upon joining the party. It began solely as a physical attraction; the sheer size certainly was enticing, and his Wild Shape, that very nature spoke to the feral instincts inside you. But his gentle temperament despite the power he holds, both physical and arcane, is an enigma to you, and him extending that soft touch to you, someone who certainly does not deserve it… the interest had quickly shifted to something deeper. 

And for reasons you still couldn’t fathom, it’d been reciprocated. 

Without realizing, you find yourself having approached his tent, your hand reaching to open it. 

“He believes you’ve relieved the weight of his worries, returning him to himself.”

You spin to find a despicable creature standing behind you; decaying skin stretched taut over sharp bones, beady red eyes looking past you at Halsin’s tent. Sceleritas Fel. 

“Such delusions, to think you a savior. As though you aren’t the heaviest burden to wrap around his neck, until he breathes his last, losing himself forever.”

Your mouth pulls into a sneer, and you take a step to block his view.

“You could do so much better, Milady,” the butler says, shaking his head. 

“Back off, you rotten gremlin,” you hiss, your fists clenching. “You won’t touch him.”

He holds his hands up, unphased by your words. “I won’t lay so much as a talon on the elf.” His pointed teeth show in his malicious smile. “I wouldn’t rob you of that delight.”

A sharp pain beats through your head as you stare the creature down; the evidence apparent in your expression. 

“Your clever mind is penning tragedy as we speak,” he remarks, pointing at you. “Your repressed Urge yearns to kill.” His voice drips with something akin to desire. “And kill you will. Tonight, the moment you close your eyes, your favorite person will be brutalized.”

“But I love him.” Your words are quiet, yet they startle you, spilling from your lips of their accord. Are you surprised by the admission? So early in your journey? Or is it that you don’t know whether you’re truly capable of such a thing?

“We all kill what we love most, in time,” Sceleritas replies. “He is so beneath you; his very presence infects the air with a sickeningly sweet stench. His pure heart would be better served floating in a jar.”

With each utterance, bile crawls further and further up to your throat. 

“Halsin believes I’m stronger than this,” you mutter, more to yourself. “He won’t come to harm by my hand. I haven’t even yet told him how I feel.”

“Why not whisper it while you twist a knife?” He smirks. “Or have a love confession be the final words between you.” Sceleritas leans toward you. “It is my duty to ensure you are making the right decisions, Master. There was much disappointment at your reluctance to kill the little Moonmaiden.” 

Your glare sharpens, suspicion growing and nearly pulling a snarl from your chest.

“You could kill this one deliberately,” he explains. “I’m sure it will be considered a great show of goodwill. The tithe could still be yours.”

The pain stabs through your head again, forcing your eyes shut as you grimace. Your instinct gnaws at your mind, and your Urge claws and screams beneath your skin. 

Forcing your eyes open, you speak through clenched teeth. “Perhaps I sate the Urge by killing you.”

“Oh, my dear Lady.” He shakes his head and smiles. “It’s been many a time I’ve had the pleasure of experiencing your malice personally. But my death means little to your father and the Urge.”

The thought of his death at your hand would be satisfying, but you feel the honesty in his words; it would be far too shallow a victory to quiet the Urge.

“I won’t do it.” Your nails threaten to break the skin of your palms. “I will keep him safe. From you. And from me.” 

He tilts his head. “I do not doubt you will act with the decorum befitting one of your rank.” His head dips, giving a bow just as his body glows an eerie red. “Good night, sweet Lady.” 

His body disappears in a moment, leaving you alone with your back to Halsin’s tent. With a deep breath, you will your jaw and fists to relax; the lingering pain offering a bit of comfort as you wrack your mind on what to do. 

You turn, reaching up to open the flap of Halsin’s tent, leaving a dark spot where your fingers touch. A metallic tinge spills into your nose, and you look down to see your hands streaked with blood, spilling from half-moon wounds in the middle of your palm. Without thinking, you run your tongue across your skin, the taste sending a shiver down your spine as your breath wavers. 

Your movements freeze, the Urge rising in your chest, desperate to taste blood spilled from a body you crave.

“No,” you whisper to yourself, as though simply speaking would placate it. “Not Halsin.”

You dare to step through, finding Halsin lying on his bedroll, still deep in his trance, unaware of the looming threat to his life. Kneeling beside him, your bloodied hands hover above his throat; it would be so easy to spill his life with a simple slice of your dagger. 

“Stop,” you plead to yourself, to your hands. 

They move to his shoulders and give him a shake. “Halsin,” you utter, hoping to not wake the others. He doesn’t react. “Halsin!”

He wakes with a start, sitting up and gripping your arms in concern. “What’s wrong?”

Your lips part, but you struggle to find the words. 

Halsin’s hands move to your wrists, turning them to view your still-bleeding hands.

“Speak to me,” he pleads, looking at you with fear and concern, visible even in the dark.

“You’re in danger,” you breathe, not entirely confident your words are loud enough for him to hear. 

His brow furrows. “From what?”

“Me.”

His mouth opens, and you half-expect a lighthearted remark, but perhaps your severe gaze makes him hesitate. Halsin’s grasp slides to rest on either side of your face, his warmth filling you and quelling the nausea still tainting your stomach. 

“Whatever is going on,” he begins, his thumbs brushing away tears that you hadn’t known spilled, “we will get through it, but I need to know what’s happening.”

You blink, his image going in and out of focus. “I… My… My mind isn’t my own,” you cry.

Each word given steals more and more of your energy, leaving your body on the cusp of failing; your vision grows tunneled and red as a headache splits through your skull, the pain unlike anything you’ve experienced before. 

You feel the last of your consciousness slipping, but you must get out what has your heart in a vice grip. You slip from Halsin’s touch, stumbling backward against the tent’s flaps.

“It wants to kill you, and I… I don’t know what to do. I can’t lose you.”

He leans toward you. “You won’t lose me,” Halsin promises. “Our time together has only begun.” He interrupts himself with a heavy sigh. “You’ve shared a touch of your troubles with me, but this is far beyond anything you’ve said. To hold such a burden alone will destroy you. You could have confided in me.”

“I’m…” Even with the absence of any of your strength, you somehow draw further back; your vision becomes nothing more than a blur, the world spinning beneath you, and your throat burns with bile. “I’m sor—” You collapse into the dirt. 

Whatever time that’s passed is lost to you, waking near the dead campfire with your hands bound behind your back and any semblance of control over your Urge gone. Your body thrashes, your wrists twisting and pulling against the rope, its flesh tearing into your own. 

“Calm yourself,” Halsin orders, his voice sounding authoritative, as if speaking to one of his druids. “My magic cannot penetrate what plagues you. You, your will, will conquer this.”

Your mouth tastes of iron; vile desires gather on your tongue, the Urge itself commanding your body. You try to focus on Halsin, your eyes pleading that he sees you’re trying, even if not successful.

“I know you are still in there.” 

His words are soft, sweet… they sicken the Urge. 

You lurch forward, your teeth seeking to clamp down on any piece of Halsin, wanting to tear the meat from his bones, devouring him raw. 

He doesn’t flinch, but his jaw sets. “I’ve handled the most feral of animals. Your fangs are no threat to me.”

The response sends the Urge over the edge, your limbs pulling with all of your strength, no regard given for any injuries caused by their own actions. The rope breaks through your raw skin, blood soaking the binds.

“Easy, my heart,” Halsin says. “Your strength is greater than this curse, and I will grant you my own alongside. You will not suffer this alone.”

You hold his promise in your chest, hoping it blooms bright enough to allow you to express your gratitude. You try to speak, but all that escapes is a harsh growl that tears through your throat.

“A growl means little from a trapped beast,” he remarks. “But you can escape this. I will see you free of this affliction.”

Tears that feel like acid fill your eyes, and you can’t tell whether it’s frustration and anger from the Urge or fear and dread from you. Your body is beaten inside and out, exhaustion’s hands wrapped around your throat. Still, it fights against your bindings, even as your consciousness slips back into the dark. 

“Let your mind rest,” he says. “Your body will soon follow.”

Again, you don’t know how long you’re out, but at some point, you come to. You feel sticky, your clothes clinging to your sweat-slicked skin; your head still pounds, and your stomach still turns, but your mind is once again your own. As your vision clears, you let out a sigh of relief; Halsin remains in front of you, mercifully unharmed.

His gaze holds yours, searching for you. And he finds you. 

Rising to his feet, he steps behind you and cuts your binds; your freed arms settle in your lap, the muscles screaming, and your wrists and hands caked in dried blood. Tentative, you flex your fingers, the maroon stain cracking and falling from your skin.

Halsin returns in front of you and sits back down. His expression is relieved, but as the seconds pass, it shifts to something far more serious. 

“I am overjoyed to have you back,” he begins, “but we need to discuss what happened.”

Your head drops, shame filling you. With a deep breath, you let everything out: divulging the severity of your Dark Urge, how often it haunts your thoughts and dreams, the little creature that calls himself your butler, your mysterious father you’re supposed to please.

Those hazel eyes are hard, his brows pinched; Halsin is deep in his thoughts, sifting through the heavy truth you’ve just shared. And all you can do is sit and wait, anxiety boiling within as you await his response. Will he claim you too dangerous to live? An unnatural being, something that disrupts the world’s balance? Perhaps simply cast you out, banish you from the camp as he’s unable to bring himself to end you? 

Your hands are suddenly gifted his warmth, his own gently caressing yours. He dips a rag in a bowl of water beside him and begins cleaning your wounds, his touch impossibly gentle.

“In all my years, I’ve not come across anything quite like this,” he finally speaks. “But I stand by my words. You will not lose me. And I will not let you lose yourself to this Urge.”

He puts the rag aside and casts a healing spell; the golden glow fills the space between you, and the torn skin pulls back together. Your wrists still ache, still feel some remnant of the deep injuries, but it’s barely more than a pinprick to you. 

His hands remain on yours, but you feel disgusted and have to fight the temptation to pull away. You should be left to rot, ended now to protect everyone around, to protect him.

“I’m a monster,” you mutter, unable to meet his gaze. “I’ve taken countless lives. I don’t even know the depth of my crimes. I’m an abomination now, and I know… I just know I was fully embracing this Dark Urge before I lost my memories.” Your throat feels as though it’s being stabbed. “You should end me.”

Your head is guided up, his thumb under your chin and forcing you to look at him.

“The Urge is a monster,” he argues. “You, the person you are now, is utterly incredible. And having learned just how hard a battle you face with this evil, I am in awe.”

The tears fall from your cheeks, and while you still don’t believe you deserve a single utterance he’s given, you’re grateful beyond what words could express.

Halsin wipes them away, and his hands remain along your jaw. 

“We will free you from this abomination,” he swears, “and your mind, your heart, your soul, will be entirely yours. And you will see just how extraordinary you are.”

[frenchonionsoop]

How did Oda leave such a strong impression on Dazai?

OOHH ok i have a lot of thoughts on this topic so bear with me, this is gonna be a long one My interpretation is the first thing Dazai latched onto about Oda was his honesty.

Oda is a very straightforward person, he rarely ever if at all has an ulterior motive and it totally blindsides Dazai. He can't manipulate Oda because he'll take what he says too literally, he can't predict him - not because Oda is good at hiding his thoughts, he just naturally has the most unreadable resting poker face imaginable - and no matter what he does nothing seems to phase Oda (keyword "seems", it often does he just doesn't show it) , and it intrigues Dazai.

As seen with Chuuya we know Dazai gets hooked on people who surprise and/or impress him, so I can absolutely understand how he saw the enigma that is Oda and said "you're my friend now we're having soft tacos later <3".

I could go on for hours about the various times Oda has bamboozled Dazai and how each effected him profoundly in so many different ways, but that's a discussion for another time. I don't think just these factors would realistically warrant Dazai's drastic change in world outlook and spur on his sudden redemption arc, so what did?

I believe it was his complete lack of judgement. Despite Dazai's constant suicide attempts and harsh view of the world not once did Oda outwardly judge him for it, which is in some ways a blessing and in some ways a curse. Oda never viewed himself as qualified enough to call Dazai out, which in hindsight might've done harm as there were times were Dazai needed someone to call him out, but unbeknownst to Oda that lack of judgement gave Dazai room to breathe.

He saw right past the silly facade and the darker side to Dazai, he saw a "sobbing child abandoned in the darkness of a world far emptier than the one we're seeing", and he saw a friend.

And this is exactly why Oda's last words hit Dazai so hard. Odasaku, who never speaks up for himself, Odasaku, who's so genuine he'd believe a murderer if they simply said "I didn't do it", Odasaku, who is now telling Dazai life might just be little better if he decides to help rather than hurt.

Bleeding out on the floor of a mansion, in a desperate attempt to make up for all the times he didn't confront Dazai Oda has to find some way to get through to him and fast. His harsh words to Dazai on how he'll never find that happiness he so desperately craves are so jarring they snap him out of his panic, suddenly he's blindsided all over again, and that vulnerable state gives Oda's next words the chance to reach deeper - "be on the side that saves people."

In order to truly get through to him, Oda needed to level with Dazai, the only way to do that in such little time was to repeat back to him his own internal mantra of "never filling that hole that is his loneliness". It's clear his words are false, especially the line "nothing beyond your own expectations will happen" as Dazai's entire speech to Fyodor in the prison is about his belief in the unpredictable nature of human beings.

But regardless, that slap in the face of hearing his own self-destructive thoughts voiced aloud after going his entire life without ever considering anybody else could understand them heightened Dazai's faith in Oda's promise of a life that's "a bit more wonderful."

What makes me adore Oda and Dazai's friendship so much is how grounded and natural it feels. Oda isn't some perfect saviour who always knows exactly what to say, far from it, he was a 23 year old PM grunt with 5 kids and a love for spicy curry, but that's all he needed to be.

Sorry this is so ramble-y and long winded if you couldn't tell already Oda's my favourite character so I have a lot to say about him 😭 Thank you so much for the ask!!!

[erikatsu]

TO THE OTHER SIDE — WRIOTHESLEY

ᥫ᭡ SUMMARY: Life was a show, and you refused to make a final curtain call– that was until you met the Duke of the Fortress of Meropide and found yourself falling off a tightrope for him without a safety net to catch you at the bottom.

ᥫ᭡ PAIRING: Wriothesley x Fem!Reader

ᥫ᭡ WARNINGS: [N]sfw. Prn with plot. Reader is skeevy and manipulative and has a personality. Reader is half-Khaenri’ahn like Kaeya. No physical description minus the primo shaped pupil. There are two OCs. Propositioning. Virgin!Wriothesley implied. Oral (m!receiving). Unprotected sex. Somewhat explicit near the end. Let’s act like there is foreplay, the word count is already wild to me sorry. Implied creampie. selfship coded.

ᥫ᭡ WC: 7.7k

ᥫ᭡ NOTE: The OC Aurélie belongs to @dottores and the OC Thalie belongs to @neuvillettes . Thank you both for letting me bring them into this.

── ❝ READ ‘EM AND WEEP, BOYS, ❞ you flaunted, showing your hand to the group you had been playing card games with for the past hour. “Haven’t you learned by now that you can’t beat me?”

Laverune and Cuistot both groaned, knowing that it was a losing battle. They always tried, but every time they lost 500 credit coupons– if not more– each. Though, they tended to not complain since they were in your pocket and they could easily make it back running errands for you. A card game or two wouldn’t set them back much anyway with all their hot gossip– some of which was fed to them by you. Whether the information you gave them was true or not, they always ate it up and would boast about it to anyone who will listen. 

In the Fortress of Meropide, it was pretty much every person for themselves. Some things like petty gossip, ways to get contraband, and wealth made you someone around here. The better the criminal, the higher on the underworld’s totem pole they’d be. You had no issue figuring this out, and you quickly climbed what little social ladder there was. You didn’t think it was hard, but then again not everyone had the same skill set as you. 

In all honesty, it was something worthy of even the Warden’s attention. 

You were an enigma to him. It wasn’t everyday that someone from the outside world came to the Fortress in a self-proclaimed exile, but he supposed that it did make sense given the nature of the place. Criminals came here to be reborn and start anew, so why couldn’t ordinary people? Although, ordinary is not how he would describe you. Your file– despite being very well put together– was full of false information from your date of birth to your legal name. He had his suspicions as to who you truly were thanks to his talks with Neuvillette and his sources in the overworld. With how quickly you worked your way up to the top of the food chain, he became more certain.

It wasn’t enough for the Fatui to begin bribing his gardes. Now, they were just waltzing into his fortress and doing as they pleased. He couldn’t complain too much though, you didn’t seem to be causing any trouble. Although there was one thing that did bother him, a lot more than it would others. He could not read you. Wriothesley, the Warden– or the Duke– of the Fortress of Meropide, prided himself on his ability to discern behavioral patterns in the criminals that came here. While you were seemingly carefree, you were too watchful. You had a flair for the dramatic, yet got serious about work. You never broke the rules, but you did push them with your snooping about. You walked a line he was not familiar with– one that teetered on edge normalcy and shady. Of course, he couldn’t let this go unchecked. After observing you for a while, he decided it would probably be in his best interest to speak with you one on one. 

Your card game was now over, and once Laverune and Cuistot left– grumbling to themselves about how you never went easy on them– Wriothesley wasted no time approaching you. You leaned back in your seat, folding your arms over your chest and watching him with what seemed to be amusement, “His Grace wants a word with me? Oh my, what an honor.”

He stared for a moment before replying, “I thought I might extend an invitation for you to have some tea with me. There’s something I’d like to discuss with you.”

Your expression didn’t change, and he wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing. Most would be put off by such a sudden invitation, especially when he’d never taken an interest before. Although, he was sure you knew he’d been keeping an eye on you and your lack of reaction could simply mean you didn’t have anything to hide. You simply smiled and told him you would be delighted. You even hummed to yourself during the short walk to his office, appearing unbothered. It annoyed him. When the two of you walked up the stairs to his office, he made note that you immediately began glancing around as if you were searching for something. It should have come as no surprise that you would immediately stop following him and walk over to the books he had on the shelves behind his desk. You ran your hand along the spines, glancing at the titles before pulling one at random off the shelf. He watched as you flipped it open, skimming the contents before closing it.

“Would you mind if I borrowed this? Books are hard to come by down here,” you asked, confusing him even more. 

Was your search for entertainment? Or was this just a ruse? He nodded, pouring the tea he had made into two small cups. You walked over to the desk, setting the book down before taking the cup from him. You took a sip, the bitter earthy flavor not agreeing with your tastebuds, yet you drank it nonetheless. Afterall, you were invited and you didn’t think telling him your distaste for the drink would go too well. 

“I believe it was over a year ago when the security system sucked you in here,” Wriothesley immediately got down to business. “You chose to stay and work, and have been on good behavior. Though, I do have one issue with this. In order to make you a resident and give you an actual job here, I do need to have legal and accurate paperwork for you.”

You rose an eyebrow, taking another slow sip of your tea, “Fascinating. Surely, it hasn’t taken you this long to figure it out. But, you’re suddenly interested in my identity now? All due respect, Your Grace, maybe your focus on me has diverted your attention from what’s really happening in your fortress. I do think I’m the least of your concerns.”

Maybe your focus on me has diverted your attention from what’s really happening in your fortress. Your words dug deeper than you had intended– or maybe you had meant to get under his skin– twisting in his stomach and wounding his pride. He knew everything that went on here, and you had just told him he really didn’t. 

“One of your night guards, Marcel, is a Fatui spy. On the three days of every month that the pipes are cleaned, he’s always volunteering. Have you ever asked yourself why that was? He uses it as an opportunity to send word back to the Harbinger he works for,” you revealed to him, walking back to the bookshelf to see what else he had that may catch your eye. 

“And how exactly did you come to learn this?” 

You laughed, delicately covering your mouth as you turned to face him, “When I was a child, before ‘Father’ found me, some of the only kindness I’d ever known had come from the Fatui. Growing up in the cold heart of Snezhnaya alone wasn’t easy. If I wanted to survive, I had to pick up on everything to find them. The way they dress, talk, move. They’re easy to spot once you know what to look for.”

Wriothesley’s eyes narrowed, committing the details you were giving him to memory. An orphan from Snezhnaya. He didn’t know what to think. If you were truthful, you easily could’ve been recruited as a child into the House of the Hearth. What didn’t make sense was that you were implying that you would help him find the spies. The Fatui never sold out their own. So if you weren’t Fatui, then who were you and why did you seem so suspicious to him? If you were, what were you gaining from this? 

He was growing more irate the more you spoke. 

“What else do you know?” The frustration was clear in his tone despite trying to remain level headed. The secrets and information you held could be bad for the system he’d created, and you withholding it simply because you could was infuriating. 

You picked up another book, skimming the contents again before setting it back down. You spun on your heel, your expression still just as playful as ever, “Your Grace, I’m sure you’re well aware with how exchanges of information go. Unfortunately, I don’t think you can offer me anything I’d be interested in. Credit coupons are easily earned, mora means nothing here, and I do believe I am free to leave at any given time.”

“Then why don’t you?” He finally sat down, taking a drink of his tea as if it would help his rising blood pressure. 

You sighed, finally growing serious, “I believe you know what it’s like to have nowhere else to go, correct? I don’t blame you for being wary, but you don’t need to be so tense, you know?”

You walked behind him, placing your hand on his shoulder and giving it a squeeze as if you were reassuring an old friend. He froze under your touch, not knowing how to take the invasion of space. His hair stood on the back of his neck as you leaned down and hummed, “There are… other ways to buy information, Your Grace.”

You gently cupped his cheek with your free hand, turning his head in your direction. He glanced at you from the corner of his eye, his gaze steeled when you lowered your voice, “My identity, who among your men are frauds, or even what lies beneath the depths of this fortress. Anything you want.”

Before he realized what you had said, you took an abrupt step back and grabbed the book he allowed you to borrow. You thank him for the tea, leaving him as he questioned what the hell just happened. 

Wriothesley had always heard stories of the Goldstein Montrer from when he was younger and up until last year. It was a performance that showcased being different is okay– a circus. It had been ran by a woman named Clymene before her protege took over after she’d passed. The odd story or two he heard about the circus had nearly doubled in the first year of the new ownership, mainly from inmates who had been arrested there for public intoxication, fighting, or attempting to touch one of the show’s animals or cast members. It was a sight to behold, according to others, how a group of outcasts could find joy in each other. He’d never been– having spent his life in foster care then abruptly followed by the Fortress of Meropide– but he had always want to go.

Imagine his surprise when he’d heard the Goldstein Montrer was all one big cover for organized crime and that the young ringmaster had been pinned for extortion, money laundering, bribery, and murder. From that moment he found himself looking forward to meeting her. But, that day would never come as she decided to fight to the death for her honor instead of standing trial. He believed those with the biggest secrets chose the duel to keep them from coming out. It was not necessarily a sign of guilt since it could also be seen as a precaution. Sometimes things that could be brought to the surface were better left buried, things that are worse than the crimes they were accused of. Though, he wasn’t sure what was worse than murder, and he definitely didn’t think he wanted to know. 

After discussing more details of the duel and the former ringmaster with the Chief Justice, Neuvillette over tea, Wriothesley was almost positive that’s who you were. But there were still questions that lead to more questions. The most obvious answer was you had faked your death but how? Thousands of people were watching, there was no escaping in front of that many eyes. There was also why? What or who were you protecting? What was worth giving up any semblance of a normal life? He guessed he wasn’t one to talk, given his own situation. 

Whatever the case was, your true identity was now the least of his concerns. Getting rid of the Fatui and handling whatever issues there were outside of that was now at the top of his list. But he couldn’t do that without your help and that left him at a decision that he shouldn’t have to make. He’d been ill prepared to talk to you. He didn’t realize what cards you held in your hands, and he absolutely didn’t expect to be propositioned in his own office. You had a lot of nerve, he’d give you that. He would have laughed if not for the fact that he was heavily considering. He needed to get to the bottom of cleaning out the weeds here, and he was already at a dead end. 

Your offer was tempting for more reasons than one. He could get the information he needed from you, and he was a man after all– one who’s rarely felt a woman’s touch. Taking you up on your suggestion would go against every moral he had, but doing so could lead him to all the answers he wanted. The decision was clouding his mind. He was unable to keep a simple, watchful eye on you without thinking about what you said. Sigewinne was filling in on watching you, but had nothing serious to report back. Wriothesley didn’t know how one person could be so insufferable. You acted as if nothing happened, politely saying good morning or good afternoon to him in passing. He wondered if you knew what you were doing to him– that a few words and touches had been driving him mad. There was no doubt you did. While your words to him were kind, there was always a smirk that tugged at your lips every time you greeted him. 

It was as if Celestia heard his woes and then laughed in his face. 

You walked into his office, the heels of your shoes loudly clanking against the metal flooring and the stairs. You waved the book before placing it exactly where you’d gotten it from, then headed to the opposite bookcase for the other one that had caught your eye a few days ago. You turned to ask, but he already wagered you would ask to borrow another one. He was behind you, taking the book from your hands and walking back over to his desk. 

“Sit. We need to talk,” he motioned towards the chair across from his. You did as you were told, sitting and folding one leg over the other. You cleared your throat, waiting for him to continue. After a moment of him trying– and failing– to gauge your reaction, he mustered the courage to say, “I’m not sure what you were trying to achieve when you propositioned me, but that’s not how we do business at the Fortress of Meropide–”

“I beg your pardon?” You interrupted, quickly rising to your feet and looking utterly appalled by his words. “I meant material things like books, trinkets… wine! Did you not get the hint last time? I asked to borrow your book, and I told you information not only about myself but the Fatui invasion of your gardes.”

Wriothesley could feel his own embarrassment, heat rising to his cheeks while he stopped to gather his thoughts before spouting out word vomit. He’d been so sure, only to be wrong. He truly couldn’t read you and he hated it. He couldn’t stand not being able to tell what your intentions were. He felt like such an ass, but you didn’t even give him the chance to explain or apologize because suddenly you began to laugh. 

“Oh my, is that why you’ve had Sigewinne tailing me for the past week?” You questioned, walking around his desk. Another fit of giggles left you before you stopped in front of him and sat on the edge of his desk, “Since our conversation topic is already here… Tell me, Your Grace, did you really think about that for seven days? What it would be like to be with me?”

He didn’t know what to say. You weren’t exactly wrong. He had been thinking about it– more than he had been thinking about accepting or declining what he thought your offer was. In fact, he didn’t know how he’d been so off. Your laughter died down, and you purse your lips, “Your grace, you’ve quite captured my curiosity. I know the Fortress can be a lonely place. May I ask just how long it’s been since you’ve felt an intimate touch?”

You leaned forward, hooking a finger under his chin before lightly tilting his head up. He held his breath with how close you were to him, his heart racing when you barely ghosted your lips across his. Mere centimeters separated you, and you muttered, “How long has it been since you’ve kissed someone?”

The small gap was filled when you finally pressed your lips against his, and to your surprise he even reacted. But you pulled away too quickly, lazily staring into his blue eyes. You opened your mouth, ready to speak when he pulled you back into him. It was more rough and fervent than the small kiss you gave him, and answered the previous questions you asked without him having to say anything. It had either been a long time, or never at all. He knew that was probably apparent, but you didn’t seem to mind– with the way you were nibbling at his bottom lip, biting down just a bit harder than you had been to get him to open his mouth. You wound your hands into his hair, your tongue darting into his mouth before he was pulling you off the desk and into his lap.

You straddled his hips, absentmindedly grinding against him. Wriothesley groaned, hands flying to your waist to keep you pinned. He could feel you smirking against his mouth, pulling him back to reality. He broke away from you, eyes wide as if you had him under some sort of spell. 

“Interesting,” you hummed out, giving him a look he couldn’t describe. “When you stated this wasn’t how business was done here, which head were you thinking with and which one are you thinking with now?” 

He had no chance to respond, eyes closing and a huff of air leaving him when you rolled your hips again. The grip he had on you still hadn’t let up, and he knew if he said anything you would call him out on it. He needed to let go, to push you away from him, but he didn’t know how to. His mind was spinning and he couldn’t suppress the urge to have more. He thought he was going to lose it when you began kissing on his neck, mumbling sweetly, “I’m not a prisoner, and it doesn’t have to be business– just pleasure.”

His next breath was shaky, your lips trailing from his neck to his chest while your fingers quickly worked at his vest then his belt buckle. He could hear you teasing him– telling him all he had to do was tell you to stop and you would– and it registered seconds later what you were talking about. He’d been so lost in the way you’d been making him feel, he didn’t even realize you were moving to get on your knees in front of him. You peered up at him through your lashes, as if you were tempting him to shut you down one last time. When he didn't move– except to slide his pants down– you smirked. 

You kissed down his chest, lightly nipping at him until you reached the base of his cock. Wriothesley grunted when you wrapped your hand around him, pressing your lips against his balls and gliding your hand over his skin. He swallowed thickly, having never experienced this before. Even if you were teasing him– slowly sucking and moving your hand– he couldn’t help but savor it. The way you let your tongue snake along his shaft and swirled it over his leaky tip made a low moan slip from him– getting louder once you fully took him in your mouth. 

Wriothesley was even dizzier than before, eyes closing tightly. You brought up a hand, grabbing his balls and squeezing them. For a moment, he was positive he was going to black out– his vision briefly clouding over due to how overstimulated he was. He was getting close, he could feel it however he found himself unable to speak a word of warning. but before he could finish, you were pulling away from him. 

His eyes flew open, seeing you standing up. You straightened up your clothes and dusted yourself off. You gave him a small smile that held a hint of mischief before you made your way to the stairs, “Consider us even, Your Grace. Your accusation took a lot of balls, so naturally, I had to see them for myself.”

You were never a fighter. While you could, you preferred to use your wit to outsmart others instead of weapons or fists. You didn’t see the point in violence if it could be avoided. But there were some battles you had to face head on, especially when there was so much on the line. You had to save the one person you could rely on– the only person who you had ever considered family. Even if it got you killed. 

It was raining again. The third time this week since Callas of the Spina di Rosula died fighting in the ring you were about to step into. Despite knowing what the outcome of this fight would be, you had one last show to put on. You’d be fighting Clorinde, who you’d seen in action dozens of times. All you had to do was side-step her every move until you found an opening. While others may fear the sharp crackling and sizzling of her blade, you welcomed it with open arms. Though if the rain didn’t stop you’d be in a lot more pain than you initially thought. At least it would be over quickly since anyone had yet to defeat the duelist. 

But, the person who appeared before you was not Clorinde. You sharply looked towards  Neuvillette who avoided your gaze and you swore that the rain began to pick up the second your eyes landed on him. Your heart began to race when your opponent stepped into the ring, but you kept your head high and quickly recomposed yourself. You walked forward, a dramatic cackle leaving your lips, “How grand, ladies and gentlemen! Who knew sororicide would be in the lineup today! Tell me, Thalie. Did you come to die, or did you come to kill me?”

“Leave it to you to put on a performance,” Thalie glowered. “Drop it. I’m not here to fight you, I’m here to get you to stand trial.”

You held out your arms, shaking your head, “Look around you. ‘Father’ is watching. We even have a special attendee, you know. Perhaps you wouldn’t recognize her since you’ve been disconnected from home for so long. I’m sure you’ve heard of Aurélie, no? A big name here amongst Fontaine’s Five, and honored guest of the Doctor. I think a duel is far more theatrical than the court, don’t you?”

You held out your arms, shaking your head, “Look around you. ‘Father’ is watching. We even have a special attendee, you know. Perhaps you wouldn’t recognize her since you’ve been disconnected from home for so long. I’m sure you’ve heard of Aurélie, no? A big name here amongst Fontaine’s Five, and an honored guest of the Doctor. I think a duel is far more theatrical than the court, don’t you?”

Thalie was quick, but unfortunately for her, you knew her all too well. You sidestepped her attack, clicking your tongue in disapproval. She was angry– you could see it in the way she moved. Too aggressive, sloppy. You could dance around her until she ran out of breath but there would be no fun in that. This was a duel, and the victor did not matter. Entertainment did. 

“Father taught you better than this,” you sneered when she swung her sword, flames flying off the blade. You parried with your staff, sliding it up the metal edge before getting a few jabs in before taking two large steps back– knowing full and well she was going to rebound quickly. “You don’t seem to get it, Thalie. We could be here for hours. I know your every move. There’s no way out of this for me, but I can keep stalling if you don’t not hone in your anger and fight me like the duelist you claim to be.”

Arlecchino watched from the crowd like a hawk watching its prey. She was disappointed more in you than in Thalie. Thalie had gone her separate ways. You were still one of her children even if you had grown up and were on your own now. She would’ve helped had you asked. But, with the way you were dragging the fight on plus the Doctor’s… companion sitting right next her, she figured you may have had something up your sleeve. Perhaps more on the prophecy that you could not risk getting out. Afterall, the downfall of the Spina di Rosula’s leader led to the downfall of the organized crime ring that you ran– and the judicial system of Fontaine never wasted time delivering a verdict. Suddenly, she’d never been more interested in a cat toying with a mouse.  

She wasn’t quite sure what you said, but it seemed to get Thalie to straighten up and then the real duel finally began. It was a mess of fire and steam– your hydro delusion smothering any flames that came near you. It was close– both of you bloodied from wounds that you had inflicted on each other and nearly drained from injuries and exhaustion– until Thalie had taken your only defense. With the delusion now in her hand there was no way you could keep up with her. Still, you pushed yourself off the ground with what little fight you had left. 

You didn’t think she’d steal your delusion as a way to get you to back down. You just needed her to deliver a final blow now. She had to. Black spots we’re dancing across your vision, your arms felt like lead weights, and your legs numb. But, you refused to let this end in anything other than your death. 

“Kill me, Thalie,” you gritted out, pushing yourself off the wet concrete. “Or else Father will. Either way, you’re going to end up alone just like I was. Death is not a punishment. It’s freedom.”

Thalie knew what she had to do but she didn’t want to– you could see it with her hesitation and the way her eyes began to cloud with tears. With a cry that was heartbreaking for everyone listening, and one final swing of her blade, your life flashed with the oncoming flames. 

The past was something you wanted to leave buried. But, after you’d given up the Fatui that had wormed their way into the Fortress, Wriothesley still had unanswered questions. Other inmates had begun to notice how often he was calling on you or approaching you. It was bad for business, and you needed him to stop it. Just his presence was enough to run people off, leaving less credit coupons in your pocket, meaning you would soon no longer be living the high life. Excuses of him buying information from you wasn't an option, as it would make both of you look bad. So, you simply settled with telling people you were helping him solve a case from your past. While they were a bit unsettled, it kept you in the clear and them in your pocket. 

But in order to put a pin in what he had started, you needed to come clean. He was surprised when you had requested an audience with him– neither in the room you had taken up residence in or his office– but some place where you could come forward without any chance of someone overhearing you. A poorly lit glass hall that had been closed off with the Abandoned Production Zone. You’d come across it while snooping about, long before Wriothesley had ever set his sights on you, and often found yourself here when you were missing the parts of your life that you had given up. 

You replayed that day as you waited for the warden, watching the fish swimming outside of the glass. The day you’d destroyed the girl who was like a sister to you, in order to give her a future. It wasn’t something you were proud of, but it needed to be done. When you discovered the Primordial Sea Water was connected to one of Callas’ partners you knew your secret business would be blown wide open. You fenced Sinthe, despite working with Callas to figure out what exactly was in the popular drink. And when the two of you did figure out what was in it, he banned the drink from his town and opened an investigation into the vendors. It was only a matter of time before the Gardes found out the circus was just a cover for organized crime. 

“How did you even find this place?” Wriothesley’s voice cut through the thick silence, breaking you from your thoughts. 

You smiled, gaze trained behind the glass, “I snooped around a lot when I first came here. It’s amazing what you can get away with when you’re not a prisoner.”

“Sounds like I need to keep a closer eye on you then, huh?” He joked, watching your smile fade. 

You shook your head, “Your Grace, you are bad for business. Which is why I figured we could come to an agreement. I tell you the answer to the question that’s been bothering you since my arrival: who am I? In return, you are going to allow me on your secret project team. Any other exchanges of information will be done here, in private.”

He knew better than to question how you knew that. So he just nodded and allowed you to tell your story. While he had his suspicions, he was still surprised to hear that you were who he thought you were. The way you talked about the past, up until the duel was a side to you he’d never seen before. You thrived in the spotlight, letting the original crew of the crime ring run that half of the show once you had started solid trade between several ports owned or controlled by the Fatui. Between money laundering, extortion, smuggling Fatui weapons, and fencing Sinthe.. you had to get out before the truth of your show had come to light. It all made sense to him in that moment– your theatrics, your tactics, and the best hiding place of all. But he wasn’t sure what that had to do with the project he’d been working on for the past year. 

“Callas and I had found out that Sinthe was made with diluted Primordial Sea water, it was not only the start of my downfall but a piece of the prophecy ‘Father’ and I had long been looking for,” You folded your arms over your chest, almost as if you were hugging yourself. “The prophecy will come true, Wriothesley. I have seen a man return to the water, and your project… I would simply like to secure a spot. Not for me but for my adoptive sister. As someone born of the Abyss, I have nothing to fear.”

The Warden was not only shocked by your seriousness and sincerity, but the use of his name and your word choice. It was a lot to take in, given everything that you revealed to him. First and foremost he was awed by your sacrifices– even if you did evade the law– along with putting someone else before you. He always had you pinned as selfish and greedy, especially with the stunt you had pulled months prior. Now that he knew your history he knew the act you put on was to keep yourself from further being hurt. 

“Well, you’ve shared your secrets. I suppose it is only fair to introduce you into the project. Can I ask why the Fatui is interested in the Primordial Sea and the prophecy?” He questioned, attempting to understand more about what you had said. 

You finally turned to face him, “The truth of this world. Thanks to the Knave and the Jester’s findings we now know that the Abyss is connected to the Primordial Sea. I’ve theorized multiple times what it could mean, and I dare not speak it in fear of Celestia’s wrath. The only thing I can say with certainty is that the skies of Teyvat are fake and that this world is not kind to those not from it.”

He could see it now, the pupil of your eye different from any he’d seen before. Suddenly, he found himself fascinated by you, and he couldn’t help but say, “It’s not too kind to those from it either.”

Your expression was soft, but your eyes held a gleam of mischief, “I have one more thing to tell you but it has a… heavier price.”

Wriothesley nodded, as if telling you to continue even though you did not mention what the price was. You stepped closer, him watching you in apprehension. 

“Though the skies may be fake, the destinies that lie in the stars are set in stone,” you brought up your hand and cupped his cheek– much softer and less distasteful than before. “Tell me, Your Grace, do you believe in fates and how they can intertwine? Your answer is the price.” 

It was as if your voice was pulling him in, like a siren to a sailor out at sea. He found himself leaning in first this time, pressing his lips against yours. The truth was he didn’t know if he believed or not, but what was the harm in finding out?

It did not take long to progress in your research of the Primordial Sea. You had been sending letters and samples to Aurélie in Snezhnaya, handing them over to the Epsilon segment. Aurélie was what you would consider a companion. You’d met her when you were young, just starting out in the circus. She’d found you after the show and asked you more about events like these and if you thought they were worth seeing. She’d made it her mission to visit every festival, celebration, or fair in Teyvat and since the circus traveled, the two of you had become at least a bit closer than acquaintances. She even tried to get you to join the Iridescence Tour back when it was first being discussed in Fontaine. 

Imagine Wriothesley’s surprise when he learned that his childhood friend was also a friend of yours. Of course he’d heard a while ago through Neuvillette that she had left Fontaine and joined the Fatui ranks under the Doctor. He was even more dumbfounded when he learned that she had helped you pull off faking your death. One special concoction cooked up by the Number Two Harbinger, and a very specific set of instructions from someone who knew the system well was the only way you could do it. He began to wonder just how small the world really was. If nations could fit into ships, then maybe it certainly wasn’t as big as everyone thought. 

You didn’t care about things like that. 

After adjusting to working on the project during the day, and colluding at night instead of wasting your day in the Production Zone, it became easier to establish a new routine for your ring. You continued to help Wriothesley with the Fatui sneaking in as Gardes, knowing it was vital to keep them from finding you out on top of keeping the project a secret. Afterall, news that the prophecy is real and that the water levels of Fontaine have been rising would incite unrest and eventually lead to chaos. The Fortress was right on top of the gate, and the residents would be the first to fall victim. 

While this routine had gone on for nearly a year, things began to change as well. You had gone from running an intel ring to merging it with a hand in Pankration funds. You set odds, accepted bets, placed them, and paid out with a portion of the earnings going into your pocket. Of course, you had to keep it Meropide legal, but it raised some spirits and kept illegal gambling away. Since you were banned from fighting, you still wanted some form of entertainment from it. The more you spent working, the less time you spent around the Duke. 

You hadn’t spoken much to him outside of picking off the Fatui and the odd meeting about the project. You could blame this on the super conflicting schedules you two had, or that if you had free time he was busy and you shouldn’t bother him. But the truth was you had been avoiding him since you came clean. You were never so open or vulnerable in front of others. The life you had lived didn’t allow for it. If the prophecy came to fruition the Hydro Archon would not be crying alone on her throne. You’d be crying with her at the bottom of the sea. You couldn’t allow what little was left of your broken heart to be shattered further. If you didn’t avoid him, that’s the road you would end up on. 

Of course, you could blame everyone but yourself. Sure, being abandoned by your family in a bitter cold hellscape wasn’t your fault, but your loneliness was. When one of the agents that you had constantly turned to for help as a child had brought you to the Snezhnayan location for the House of the Hearth, everything had started to look up. “Father” brought you to Fontaine to start your training, making the judgment that you could suit the nation’s flair for theatrics. But, you had pushed the other kids away until you had met Thalie. She had been your only friend, your only family until she left it all behind. You were shy, a bit broody, and she was bright and eager to befriend you. It was funny how the two of you had adopted each other’s mindsets near the end. 

Thinking about the past had you unable to sleep, down in the Forbidden Production Zone doing what you could on the ship to try and distract yourself. You didn’t know the time, but you knew most of the guards had fallen asleep at their posts. Running the big machines wasn’t an option, but rechecking all the work that was done today could make less work for tomorrow. Even if Sigewinne did end up giving you that strange food she gave to people who were working too much. 

Unfortunately for you, the head nurse would not be the one to lecture you on that matter. 

“You know if you don’t report in for overtime you won’t get paid for it.” 

You’d recognize his brand of sass anywhere. You held back a sigh, glancing over to the one person who you didn’t want to see, “I’m not interested in the money.”

Wriothesley frowned as he approached, taking the clipboard you held in your hands away from you. He gave you a pointed look when you turned to glare at him, “Then this can wait until tomorrow. Why don’t I make you some tea and we can talk about what you’re doing up at this ungodly hour?”

You went to protest but he walked away, heading back inside the Fortress. You scoffed, following him because you knew it wasn’t a suggestion. He went upstairs, opening the door across from the elevator. He led you into what looked like an apartment, telling you to make yourself at home while he walked towards the kitchenette. You awkwardly sat on the couch, patiently waiting for him to come back with the tea he’d promised. 

It didn’t take him long, but he warned you that it was hot before sitting beside you. He took a deep breath before diving right into it, “You’ve told me your whole life story, but I still feel as if I barely know you.”

“Good,” you told him pointedly. “It’s foolish to get close to others in a place like this one.”

He shook his head and let out a huff, “Is it a foolish thing, or a scary thing? I do recall a few instances where you acted as if that wasn’t the case.”

A foolish thing or a scary thing? You laughed in disbelief, tears filling your eyes before you met his, “An undeserving thing for someone like me. For a sinner.”

He frowned, “The Fortress of Meropide is not damnation, but a chance for rebirth. Everyone here– myself included– has started anew. You’re not undeserving. Though you may not have been charged with your crimes, you still ended up here. If that’s not proof of fate, what is?”

He couldn’t mean that… could he? An answer to your question and what he said about starting anew? But that didn’t completely squander any doubts you had. If anything, it only made you worry more about the others. You didn’t know if you could handle loss again, the pain of separation that you had felt in many different forms. You weren’t able to get a good read on him. You didn’t know in what sense you should take his answer, and you didn’t want to embarrass yourself for a third time. 

So you sat there, staring at nothing in particular and not saying a word. You’d never felt like this before, and you weren’t sure that you liked it. As much as you wanted to act, you couldn’t bring yourself to move. 

You didn’t have to. 

Wriothesley placed his hand under your chin, gently turning your head to look at him. He looked a little dazed, eyes slowly falling to your lips for just a brief second. Your heart was racing, your body refusing to react until he closed the gap. Once his lips met yours, you couldn’t help but melt into him and lost sight of the reality around you. 

The tea he had made was long forgotten, sitting on the small table in front of the couch while the two of you moved the party into his bedroom. A trail of clothes lead up to his bed, the two of you sitting on top, touching one another and drinking each other in as if you were both dying of thirst. He’d never done this before, and was too nervous to ask if you had. But, he followed your lead– his mind clouded with the need to have you after how long it had been since you first gave him a taste of something more. 

“Are you sure?” you asked breathlessly between kisses, rolling your hips against his hard on. “We can stop-”

He cut you off, breaking away from you, “The only thing that needs to stop is your talking, darling. Unless you don’t want to.”

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to, because you did. You had wanted to for some time now, and while he’d easily been putty in your hands you knew you were not going about it the right way. You toyed with him, baited him, got him where you wanted. But you had let him go because you knew him being a special interest or a new play thing was just a cover for what you’d been craving for years. Warmth, love, a place where you belonged. You just didn’t know how to get to it without pulling all the strings, and you wanted to be sure this wasn’t something you had somehow manipulated. 

Instead of answering him, you gave him one more kiss before sitting up and lining him up with your entrance. You sank down, gasping as you bottomed him out. You grabbed his hand, pulling slightly to get him to sit up as you rocked your hips. You cupped his cheeks, your mouth molding to his while one of his hands grabbed at your waist and gently pulled you closer. 

Wriothesley reacted instinctively, still unable to wrap his head around what was happening. One minute you were on top of him, and the next you were under him, squealing at the sensation of the sudden movement. While he had never taken this step with anyone before, and he had a feeling this wasn’t new to you, part of him knew that this sort of softness was foreign to you. It would be as much of a first time as any, even if it was the first time you were being treated the way you should be. 

He’d lie with you like this for hours if he needed to, placing kisses all over your exposed skin, rolling his hips until he met resistance and your toes curled. He may not get it right, especially off the bat, but he would certainly try to make moments like these as memorable as possible. You seemed to be enjoying it, his name rolling off your tongue acting as words of encouragement– suddenly it was all too much for him. 

Then you were clawing at his back, legs wrapping around his torso in an attempt to get him to reach deeper than he actually could. He was losing control of the rhythm he’d set but it didn’t seem to matter with you whimpering and shaking underneath him. Your breaths mixed with his– hot and uneven– until he was grunting. He had no time to react, but you didn’t say anything when he came to a stop. 

Part of you was ready to get up and leave like you were used to, but apparently Wriothesley knew you were going to try that. When he pulled away from you and lied down, he threw his arm over you and pulled into his side. You gave him a bewildered look, and he simply chuckled and placed a gentle kiss against your lips before saying, “I know better than that now, and you’re not getting away this time.”

ᥫ᭡

[bitcell]

a small analysis on qcellbit’s trajectory on purgatory and why he’s like that

quite a few times we saw people say “cellbit, purgatory has changed you, man” to which he always replied “i’ve been like that since the beginning, you just didn’t notice”, and that’s true! this man has chosen a task and has hyper focused on it since his first day on the server. first the enigmas, then the federation, then cucurcucho, then the missions and now killing the workers. he has always strived for a goal and followed it with all the resources he could, gave his all to it regardless of who would hurt (sorry qbagi). 

on their first day on purgatory qphil declared cellbit as his second in command and while phil is the captain and the heart of the team, cellbit has been the brain, because every decision that was taken by bolas has had cellbit’s input on it. ofc they didn’t always follow it and the last word was phil’s (giving back the flags to blue), but this just goes to show that when cellbit tunnel visions on something he doesn’t care for morals. 

bolas has said countless times, they’re not playing to make amends with other teams, to make deals (with the exception of the enchantment rule). the day other teams proposed to talk about not killing the eggs, foolish, baghera and cellbit had already made up their minds that they would kill them. they don’t want to play to tie, they want to give their blood for their team and they will try until the last second. 

now a little on the meta side, the only people who truly knew how to pvp on bolas before green was split was phil, foolish and carre. when cellbit realized that pvp would be a big part of purgatory, he went and trained the entire day on pvp legacy, just so that he could learn how to fight back, how to protect his team and how to take the weight from philza’s back. before qsmp this man hadn’t touched minecraft since 2018!  

one of the reasons why although people wanted some angst and roier going to blue instead of red, there’s a big reason why spiderbit works so well and it’s the fact that roier balances out cellbit intensity. yesterday cellbit was really stressed out with everything and he only became more relaxed when roier finally logged on. back on quesadilla island, when roier used to investigate with cellbit the same thing would happen. when cellbit said the only thing that matters is bolas and roier, he didn’t lie. this man doesn’t care about anyone who isn’t bolas, he will not concede and he will not make truces or anything. he knows he has taken the place of the asshole and he doesn’t care, he’s willing to do everything for the team he’s on.