#and choose to follow this man into hell. because you think he is worth it

[soldier-poet-king]

My favourite character just died horribly in the space torture book, finally free, potentially confessing his love for the protagonist, the protagonist having to /mercy kill/ his first and closest friend, the knives, the intimacy, the devotion, the trust in a man capable of being terrible because he is so grimly devoted to trying to be Good, the sheer rage and despair and hope of it all

I think I'm going to. Die. Thanks

[setsugekka]

❥summer hair = forever young (m)

↳ Only three weeks after being broken up with by your long time partner, you’re dragged along for your friends summer vacation plans despite your best attempts at staying home to do little more than feel sorry for yourself.

Day one? Dinner and a movie.

Day two? The bar down the street that smells like old socks.

Day three? Well, that’s the waterpark, and the cute, blonde lifeguard that seems to make the lazy river his mainstay is a bit of a sight for sore eyes.

lee jeno x fem!reader — summer fling, strangers to lovers, fluff, light angst, porn with plot, explicit sexual content. [18,1k wc] cws: alcohol consumption, penetrative sex, oral sex (f), praise, dirty talk, body cum-shot, Lee Jeno has a Big Dick.

J♡ [22:40]: i just think with summer coming up it's probably for the best, we had fun but we both knew it wasn't a forever thing anyway

A year and a half. Just like that.

Even now, two days after the break up text from your boyfriend — the boyfriend that you were very much in love with and very much thought it to be at the very least a potential forever thing with — you find yourself coming back to it. Rereading it. Wondering what it was that brought the two of you to the here and now of it all.

Though, the pictures of him at a party that had been posted the following day sort of gave it away, you suppose.

Still, there had been talk of future plans, futures together and what that looked like. Maybe not quite a family and the white picket fence just yet — but there had been discussions over romantic dinners and between the sheets after some particularly enjoyable bedroom romps. At least, you had thought as much.

In hindsight, a break up always causes you to put every interaction leading up to it under a microscope. What could you have done differently, better, how could you have avoided the reality that you now find yourself in.

You choose not to reread over the texts you've sent him since, mostly out of humiliation of the fact. Through the crying and the begging and the reducing yourself down to someone that you don't even recognize even in the worst of times, the only thing that makes it that much worse is the lack of any such acknowledgement from a man who had once promised you so much of himself. Not granted even so much as a conversation — hell, he couldn't even be bothered to meet you in person to do it properly — the most likely case? Jaehyun met some girl at some party that in the moment he felt was worth ending the relationship for.

And in times like this, you realize it's difficult to think that you ever really know someone at all.

In the following weeks, your friends are kind, but even you can tell that they begin to get fed up with your insistence on being miserable over a guy that couldn't grace you with even an ounce of the same thoughtfulness.

Constantly turning down plans in favor of staying home on the couch with a bag of snacks and some shitty romance flick, the squad of pals that you've collected over the years only becomes more and more pushy of your getting up and out there once again — in the nicest way, of course. Comments about how he wasn't even that handsome (a lie) and wouldn't end up being all that successful anyway (also a lie) sneak themselves into conversations at any brief moment that any of them can sneak them in, as if attempting to convince you of the fact; rather, the reminder of him only serves as just that. You don't need it, because you're still at a point of pain in your chest where Jaehyun is always there. Knocking, jabbing, not allowing himself to fall off from your mind even for a second.

They mean well, but these things take time. You're thankful that with summer vacation coming up and the girls having plans to go out of town for a few weeks that you'll be granted a small amount of reprieve from the barrage of commentary, at the very least.

That is, of course, until the day comes.

"Rise and shine, darling! We're going on a mission!"

Waking to the shrill voice of one of the girls as she rips the covers off of your body — simultaneously exposing your freshly opened eyes to the offending illumination of the sunlight outside as another girl pulls open the curtains of a window just across the room — you briefly attempt to reach for the duvet before instead accepting defeat and instead slumping back into the cushion of the mattress, anticipating whatever nonsense these women have in store for you this time.

"What kind of mission?" You ask with a dry and throaty groan.

With blankets bunched in her arms, a girl with long, silver hair brings herself just next to your head while you remain lied and despondent in bed. "Today we leave for summer vacation."

One eye cracked open at the words from Winter's mouth, you groan again before answering her. "Yes, you all leave for summer vacation. I told you I wasn't going."

"Why?" Another girl chimes in from the doorway. A beautiful woman with long, silky black hair. "So you can stay here all month long and continue feeling bad for yourself? That guy was a fuckin' loser anyway."

"Karina."

"What?" She adds in retaliation. "He was."

Still standing by the window and with a white curtain in hand, Giselle rolls her eyes at her friends bluntness. Really, you know them all to believe it to be the case, but Karina is the only one willing to go to such feats to speak on it.

"What she means is that it would probably do you some good to get out and come away with us," Giselle amends, garnering a rather unbothered shrug from Karina along the way. "It's only two weeks, it certainly couldn't hurt."

Sighing at the words, you remain laid out in the comfort of your bed. Staring at the ceiling, you realize that there is still a small part of you that can't help but consider the possibility of Jaehyun calling you to tell you of the mistake that he has made, that the two of you should meet up and rekindle things, and the thought of being far away and well out of reach should that time come to pass causes an uncomfortable twisting in your gut that you're not all that ready to disclose to your friends in the room.

Partially because you know it to be so far from the realm of possibility, and partially because it's not a conversation that you're all that interested in rehashing with them now, either.

Regardless, you know there to be truth in their words. Staying home and feeling bad about where your love life has ended up thus far is not going to serve you: not in the near or the far future. Knowing as much, it then begs the question...

Is it worth throwing away an entire summer vacation for?

Inhaling slowly, your lips part to speak, but as your eyes fall upon Winter once more, you watch as her face begins to twist into that of glee before the words even begin to leave your mouth.

"Yes!" She exclaims with a jump before turning and ushering the other girls to begin packing belongings for your last minute trip.

It's only a few hours over to the next town by the beach, anyway, so if they forget anything of importance you'll easily be able to find something to make up for it upon arrival. You leave them to it over the calamity of delighted squeals as the women shove your belongings into a bag, and as you stare up at the ceiling over your head for one last time before your departure, you can't help but wonder: what are you getting yourself into this summer?

Four hours and twenty minutes in the backseat of Ningning's luxury SUV.

It's not the worst way to get somewhere, but the additional hour of travel time most certainly could have been shaved off if any of the people in the car capable enough of navigating a GPS application.

Instead, the time there offers you far too much ability to live with your own thoughts about whether or not you're in the right headspace to truly be making this trip. Granted, it's a little bit too late for that now on account of not being able to back out should you even want to — rather, you can't help but wonder if you're already regretful of having allowed yourself to be dragged along for such a thing.

Every ten minutes or so you check your phone for a message, not that you're keeping track or anything.

The concern is alleviated for a time upon finally reaching the summer beach house, at least. From the outside it's nothing fancy; perhaps appearing as nothing more than a typical, large family home at a glance — but putting together the knowledge of it being just walking distance from the sandy coast out back and the large count of at least six bedrooms inside — you know it to be far beyond just the way that it may present. Expected, of Ningning and her affluent family, and at the very least you're thankful in knowing that you'll have a bedroom for yourself that most likely has a lock on the door should you wish to take some time away from the girls at hand.

You feel somewhat guilty in thinking that, though: friends that you've known since the beginnings of high school and now well into the tail end of higher educational years, people who have been with you through thick and thin and through all of your poor decisions, messy break ups, and rash meltdowns. For whatever reason, this one feels different. The desire to be away and alone with nothing more than your feelings of sorrow, and sometimes you find yourself even lamenting the fact that you have to acknowledge anyone or anything outside of that.

It's good to feel your feelings, this much you know. It's probably better to not allow them to consume you, however uncomfortable it is, though.

Blonde hair swishing through the air as she twirls with keys jingling in hand, Ningning turns with a wide smile to the rest of you as she pushes the front door open and subsequently removes herself from the doorway to allow you all to go before her. "Home sweet home!"

Upon entering the premises, you can't help but think that 'sweet' may be an understatement: two stories and ceilings higher than you can really even fathom with more window paning serving as a perimeter than proper walling — it's most definitely a luxury home, and one that you couldn't really fathom ever owning for yourself, or even really being able to afford renting for a getaway such as this without the additional help of a well-off pal.

It's beautiful, and it makes you realize just how lucky you are to have friends willing to drag you out of your misery to force you to come along and experience it with them.

"Bedrooms are upstairs except for the largest one, which I'll be staying in on account of familial ties," the girl proudly explains as you all enter and set your bags down in the living room area. "Kitchen is to the left, as is another, smaller living area, pool, deck, and then obviously you guys can figure out how to get to the beach."

It goes without saying, because even though the sun is out upon your arrival, you can't imagine not being able to see the crashing of waves even in the nighttime from where you stand now. Looking out towards the coast, it makes your heart swell with promise and thankfulness once over.

You gotta give it to them, they might have been right.

Still, you've checked your phone twice since you've arrived.

"Should we freshen up then have dinner?" Karina asks suddenly and with evident excitement in her voice. You all nod.

"Dinner and a movie in on the first night," Winter adds, grabbing her bags once again. "But after that I expect nothing but trouble until we have to go back home."

Somehow, you don't doubt that to be the outcome, either.

Day two is simple, and much to Winter's displeasure. You, however, are a bit thankful for it on account of your inability to truly settle in. It helps after having gone to the bar just down the way and having a few drinks — that always does the trick in getting you to dreamland, but the aid of alcoholic beverages isn't one that you wish to rely on as a crutch for sleeping during your two week stay and without another plan of action, you think it best to take it easy and lie a little low for what may be the remainder of the trip for you.

When day three rolls around and Karina excitedly throws out the option of the enormous, landmark of a waterpark that the city is known for — everyone is beyond elated at the suggestion, even you.

Some sun and a little outdoors could probably do you good, and on top of that, you'll be far too exhausted from a day out not to get a good nights rest by the time your body meets the comfort of your bed.

With swimsuits on and towels in hand as the five of you enter the gates of the park, you realize that you had overlooked how busy it would be — and by quite a wide margin.

Crowds not really your thing and especially not during some of the hottest days of summer, you bite back any possible complaints you could have and instead focus on the positives: you and your friends are looking fine as hell, there's a comfortable breeze that you couldn't be happier to feel right about now, and your phone is tucked away inside of a locker — far from your sight until the day is over.

You're hopeful for any thoughts of him being just as tucked away as a result, too.

In the meantime and barely out of sight long enough for you to even notice, Giselle pops back up to your side with a bright blue slushie in one hand. "What should we do first?"

"Where did you even get that?" You can't help but question.

Turning and pointing, Giselle brings your line of vision over to a shirtless man standing at a small kiosk only a few feet away. "Hot guy selling them."

"We should definitely see if there's any more of those around here," Karina adds upon looking, and as a result, you cock your head somewhat confused. "Slushies?"

"Hot guys," she confirms sternly.

The thing about post-break up heartbreak is that often times the blinders to other people some times turn themselves on without your knowing it.

That is to say that even though you're not actively thinking about Jaehyun, and there are extremely attractive men here, you can't say that you're all that interested in the fact.

Standing back, you find joy at least in watching your friends enjoy themselves as they flirt with strange guys and playfully pat their arms and shoulders — laughing at jokes that aren't funny but for this, we can pretend — you know it all too well, and you suppose that from an outsiders point of view, it certainly is amusing, and given how long the line is up to this slide, you're thankful for the entertainment.

Nearing thirty minutes in line for one attraction in the hot, beating down summer sun is far from your idea of a good time, but you can see the end soon approaching, and while you cannot imagine that the ride down be worthy of this sort of gathering of people, the faster you can get up there, on the ride, and down, the better.

With only a small family of four ahead of your group now, you and the girls stand just near the very top of the water slide. Sweat pooling in all sorts of places that you'd really rather it not on account of the heat, you find yourself nearing the end of your willingness to enjoy this place, and more than that, you're happy that this is one of those slides that holds numerous people at once so that no one has to wait to get down from what you might consider now to be the highest mountain in the pits of Hell.

The family goes along their way, and with Karina ahead of you and the other behind you, the girl leans back to whisper towards you through the loud shouts of happy children surrounding you.

"Oh, girl—"

Granted, you don't know what this means as you continue with the last couple of steps to the top. Not until you get up there and your eyes land on precisely what it is that you know garnered that type of reaction from her.

Standing just beside the opening of the slide and preparing an inflatable tube for your party of pals, he doesn't take notice of you and yours before your lot does of him, and for that you're somewhat thankful considering the way that your eyes rake over the toned, tanned, display of arms and a bleached-blonde undercut of hair with the sides and back all too freshly shaven, at that.

With a loose tank top covering his torso, you can't help but feel a bit disappointed in the fact. A modest man working at the waterpark, you think, and it brings a bit of a grin to your lips despite the joke only being known to you.

In that moment and with it now being your turn to ride, he looks up and makes eye contact with you, in particular — a wide smile of teeth that's matched by an equally pleasant eye smile, as well — punctuated by a small freckle just at the lower corner of his right eye.

"First time riding?"

"What?"

You realize as soon as the affronted response leaves your lips that it is no ones fault but your own that you've responded to such a normal question in this way. Perhaps entirely on account of your eye-fucking the cute lifeguard before he even manages to get a word in edgewise, you watch him cock his head to the side inquisitively at your answer before snorting out a bit of a chuckle through his nose and continuing on as if you're not a complete fucking freak in public.

"Is it your first time? On this ride?"

"Oh," you answer back as normally as you can possibly muster up. "Uh, yeah, first time."

"Cool," he says, holding the raft still while your friends climb on and get into position beside you. "Hold onto the railing, don't let go, don't stick your hands out and try to touch anything along the way."

With a knowing grin, Karina leans forward to grab his attention as he pulls you and your girls towards the opening of the slide. "What happens if I lose a finger? Are you going to come down there and rescue me?"

It's flirtatious, although you can't help but think the logistics of it could potentially use some work.

But with little more than a shake of his head and a smile, the cute blonde answers the inquiry in the best way you think him to know how.

"I work at a waterpark, don't think you want me sewing anything on you back together. Have fun!"

And with that, the hot lifeguard disappears into the dark, black abyss of the waterslide.

When the day comes to a close and simultaneously, the park itself, with gentle sunburns gracing you and your friends skin and with slushies in hand, the five of you finally retrieve your belongings from the lockers near the entrance.

You check the screen of your phone to find little more than a text from your mother, asking how you're doing and if you're having a good time.

Looking forward to the day in which not finding a message from your ex won't make your throat feel like swallowed needles, as well.

"I see everyone made it out with all of their appendages."

The voice and joke are familiar in a sort of way that you can't seem to place just yet, but upon raising your sights from the depressing display at hand and towards the person in which the words have come from, it all comes rushing back to you at lightning speed. Eyes wide and taken quite aways aback, you just about drop your phone and as a result of scrambling to not let it meet the wet concrete of the floor below, nearly make a mess of the icy, blue beverage in hand, as well.

Thankfully, neither disastrous outcome make themselves to be — but still, your inability to be even a little bit normal in front of a man you've known for all of two minutes is getting a little out of hand, at this point.

Still in the same white, cut up t-shirt from back at the slides, the two of you make eye contact for a moment before you realize that you should probably actually say something to him in response.

"Yeah, well," you start with a nod back behind him and towards where Karina stands. "She was the one with intent to remove fingers, not me."

Pausing to glance back over his shoulder and acknowledge the other woman, he gives her a nod before turning his attention back and towards you.

"Good, because I really mean it when I say I can't sew for shit."

You can't help but chuckle at the words. "Would be quite a repertoire of skills under your belt if that were to be the case."

"Indeed. You live around here or on vacation?"

Sly, you think to yourself. Granted, you don't hate the attention especially since he seems keen on directing it to you, in particular. It does beg the question, however, of how much of a point is there to any of this, really? A summer fling can be fun, sure, although not exactly your usual speed of doing things — and especially not off of the back of some of the worst heartbreak you've ever experienced — you look the man in front of you over just one more time before parting dry, chapped lips to respond to him in some form or another.

"Vacation," you grant him, albeit slowly, as if anticipating something suspicious in his questioning. "Why?"

It's sort of a stupid question, you know.

Perching a well-defined arm up against the metal locker next to the both of you, he leans into it and maintains eye contact with you before answering as much. "We should do something while you're in town."

Reeling at how forward he is, your answer comes out a bit more stuttered than you would have liked to begin with. "I—I'm not sure there's much point in tha—"

But regardless, Karina is there to interject, anyway.

Nudging herself into the scene and with her own phone in hand, the woman stands between you and him to do something that you stand a bit half and half on: it's somewhat annoying, and a bit out of bounds especially as friendships go to be giving out your number to men that you've only barely just met...however...

He is so fine, and a bit charming, to boot.

"Here's her number," you hear your friend say as she stands with her back towards you. The whole thing takes place in a matter of seconds, and as he slides his phone back into his pocket, Karina makes haste in whisking herself back out of the scene, but not before flashing you a knowing, mischievous smile.

"Trouble that one is, huh?" He says, thumbing back over his shoulder as she disappears into the rest of your friend group.

"You have no idea," you sigh in response, and now resigned to the fact that this is definitely going to be some kind of thing, you figure it best to move along towards the next most obvious course of action. Whatever this is going to be, after all. "So, what's your name?"

Corners of his mouth pulling into an all too pleasant curl, you hate how much it sort of makes you melt at the sight of it. An unfortunate side effect of much too attractive and seemingly also kinda cool guys, you figure.

"Jeno," he says, as if delighted by the fact that you would ever even ask. "Lee Jeno."

Over the next handful of days — through a shocking amount of quiet evenings spent at home around take-out boxes and cheap wine with the girls — texts from the cute blonde at the waterpark that you now know to be named Jeno come far more frequently than you realize you had anticipated.

For one, he knows that you don't live around here so you can't imagine there to be much of a reason for him to be pursuing you for much more than a fun romp in the sheets, only to then never speak to you ever again. It's not an arrangement you're all that opposed to under normal circumstances, though you can't help but consider that where you are mentally and emotionally right about now is far from normal circumstances.

And two, he hasn't really laid on the same sort of aggressive, sexual interest that you may have expected from a guy looking for that sort of thing.

In fact, talking to Jeno is just pretty...casual.

Seemingly making it a point to text you late into the night and right before bed (incredible timing every time, you note), you chuckle every time thinking that this time to be the one where he comes on strong. After all, most men only text women that they're interested in this late at night for one thing and one thing only, so every time as the chime of your phone receiving a message comes through, you arm yourself with the armor of anticipating something heinous to some degree — you can only hope that it's not a dick pic, at least.

Phone in hand, lights off and snuggling into the plush, comfortable sheets of your bedding, you unlock your phone and navigate to your messaging application to see just what it is that lies in wait for you this evening.

Jeno [01:23]: good morning, or night, i never know how to announce myself at this time of the day

It's sort of annoying the way you can't help but smile, but you're thankful enough for the fact that he is unable to see the effect he already has on you in such a way.

In the wake of being told that you're not wanted, not desired — sometimes it's nice to have a reminder that not everyone feels that way.

You have no intention of engaging in anything more than basic flirtation with this man, but hey, that can be enough.

You [01:24]: how do you always know exactly when i'm settling in for bed?

Typing bubble popping up immediately after sending your message, you can't help but wonder just how eager this guy really is to be the receiver of your full attention.

Jeno [01:24]: i have karina on look out so she can let me know precisely the right time to hit you up

You [01:24]: creepy, but i respect your willingness to tell me, at least

Jeno [01:25]: well, you know what they say, honesty is the best policy. what are you guys doing tomorrow night?

Taking a moment to mull over the question before you begin typing your reply, you answer him easily, but mostly out of curiosity in why it is that he's asking.

You [01:26]: i don't think we have anything planned? you can ask karina ;p

Jeno [01:26]: very funny, are you going to hold that terrible joke over my head forever? anyway, my friend is having a party at his place, parents out of town for a week, you guys should come by.

You're none too proud of the way your heart beats just that much harder for a split second in time at the coming through of the invitation. Still, play it cool.

You [01:27]: i'll ask the girls tomorrow if we have anything going on and i'll get back to you. are any of your friends cute?

You're not sure you've ever seen the typing bubble pop up that quickly in your life after sending that message.

Jeno [01:27]: really man? already trying to scope out my friend group to see if you can get an upgrade? :(

You [01:28]: i have friends...they will want to know...it will likely be a huge deciding factor in whether or not we show up at all so think carefully lol

Jeno [01:28]: fine! yeah i guess some of them are handsome, not quite as handsome as me but you know what can you do? hehe

Rolling your eyes but with grin still plastered across your lips, you begin typing your response back to him.

You [01:28]: i'll pass the message along then

Jeno [01:29]: cool. get some sleep then, you really shouldn't be texting strange men so late at night anyway, who knows what could happen hehehe goodnight, rest well

Part of you wants to rebuke the claim despite very much having already considered it for yourself, but in an effort to not appear too interested and too eager, you simply leave the conversation alone and with that as the last message sent for the evening.

Butterflies in your stomach and the promise of who-knows-what at this party tomorrow leaves sleep hard to come by, but you figure it's at least a little worth it if it means checking your phone for text messages from a different man whose name starts with a 'J' for once.

Of course, you're none too surprised once you find yourself at said house party.

A bit more rambunctious than what you'd typically like to find yourself at back home — with slews of college-aged people running, yelling, dancing and talking amongst themselves as well as throughout the entire premises of the property both in and outside — as you and your friends make your way inside to the enormous stacking of alcohol bottles and disposable plastic cups, it's one particularly bright head of blonde hair that catches the corner of your eye as he makes his way across the room and towards you with a smile.

Nudging your arm gently with his elbow, as if to say 'I told you so' about your being there at all, Jeno grins even wider once your eyes meet. "So? What do you think?"

Looking around briefly, you glance back towards him with suspicion plastered across your face.

"I'm starting to think you might be too young for me."

Jeno reels at the suggestion with eyes wide and full of shock. "Why? Adults can party. You don't party?"

"I do, just not typically messy frat house parties...at least, not anymore."

Knitting his eyebrows together and slanting his grin, Jeno cocks his head sideways to look at you with something of a twinge of judgment. "It's a beach town, and a popular destination for summer breakers obviously, what do you expect? Maybe try winter break, next time."

Nudging you again to punctuate the thought playfully, you look back towards Giselle who quickly pushes an alcoholic concoction of you'll-never-know into your hand with a grin before her and the others begin to disappear into the crowd.

"Wait! Where are you guys going?"

"You have your date, we're going to find ours," Winter answers back with a casual flip of her hair. Then, her attention pulls to the man standing just beside you. "What was his name again?"

"Jaemin."

"Whatever," she says quickly and as if nothing he could have possibly responded with would have made any sort of a difference either way. "We'll be around, we all have our phones. If you need someone, you know how to get us."

Panic subtly settling in at the thought of being left alone with this guy that you barely know at all, it's not that you feel unsafe with him, or that you can't trust his intentions — no, it's far from anything so insidious that has your nerves firing and the anxiety bubbling up in your gut.

What if it's awkward?

"Ta-ta!" Ningning chimes as the four of them walk away, and it's in that moment that you realize you are deep, deep into the lions den, now.

In a room full of busy people, you can't think of a time that you've ever felt quite so alone.

Then, you feel your phone vibrate. A message from Karina.

Kari [20:42]: let the hot guy from the waterpark make it all better :p you know what they say, the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else

Turning your phone far out of sight of Jeno upon reading the message, another comes through before you have the chance to begin typing any kind of reply to her.

Kari [20:42]: or bent over by someone else, or on top of someone else? well you can fill me in on the details when he's done filling

You don't bother reading the rest of the message as you quickly lock your phone and shuffle it back into your pocket, but you're thankful enough when your attention comes back to Jeno that in the meantime he has struck up conversation with another guy just beside him. It gives you a moment to look him over for the first time, too: messily slicked back blonde hair and black button down shirt that's equally messily tucked into far too nicely fitting black jeans with a carefully placed aesthetic rip at one of the knees.

He looks good, and you're glad you didn't over or underdress in your fitted jeans and simple blouse, also.

"This is my friend, Renjun, he's the home owner...well, sort of," Jeno starts once he realizes you're finished with the nonsense going on within your cellular device. "He's one of the handsome ones we touched on briefly last night."

Introducing yourself in kind, you shake hands with the new acquaintance as he laughs at the concept of being discussed. "Thanks, happy to know I made the cut, I guess. What are you doing talking to this fuckin' guy, anyway?"

Jeno's eyes widen at the sudden attack. "Hey! I just complimented you, come on!"

Not helping the laugh that erupts from their jest, you take a sip of your horrendous drink before responding. "It's been a little out of my hands from the get-go. I'm just sort of along for the ride, he keeps texting me every night, what am I supposed to do?"

"Ah, yeah, I've heard that about this one before," Renjun nods and sighs, with Jeno spiraling into disaster beside the both of you all the while. "Can't let him start texting, he'll never quit. I hate to tell you, but you're basically married, now. He's a level five clinger."

"I am not a level five clinger!"

"That's unfortunate," you casually respond, carrying on the conversation with Renjun as if Jeno not even standing there at all. "Hopefully he doesn't have any weird quirks that are hard to live with, then."

Renjun shakes his head as he takes a sip from his own cup. "Nah, he's a pretty simple guy, all things considered, I think you'll have a pretty easy time with this one."

"Well that's comforting, at least."

"Hello!" Jeno finally interjects with success, stalling the ongoing banter and bringing both of your attention back to him. "I'm literally right here!"

Smiling then, Renjun brings a heavy hand up and to the back of Jeno's shoulder before turning on his heel and beginning his exit in the wake of destruction. "Have fun, call me if you need anything."

With a lull in the ongoing messiness that so far is this evening as it stands, you and Jeno stand calmly before one another for a few moments with no words spoken; that is, of course, until his lips part and he gently offers up an idea of his own.

"Want to go some place quieter so we can talk?"

There's certainly a distinct level of unease that courses through your bones with every step you take towards the second level of the home. Passing by people already paired off for the evening and making out on the steps for what feels like forever — you can't help but wonder if this is some kind of preliminary entry into what he thinks is going to be on the agenda for the evening. Yes, you had already considered this much, and yes, you're aware of precisely the types of things that go on at parties such as this, but it doesn't mean that just because you're here and to see a guy, at that, that you're resigning yourself to partaking in any such festivities.

Jeno leads the way, and once the two of you make it up to the dimly lit hallway lined with a handful of doors — some open, some closed, and a handful of people leaned against the walls engaging in their own, private activities — it's as he continues towards one of the open doors of what you could only presume to be a bedroom that your heart sinks into your stomach and you dig your heels into the ground.

"I don't—" Is all you can manage out, because it's awkward and you don't really want to make an ordeal out of this either. You don't know this man, and especially not well enough to know how he'll take to being denied the thing that he seems to be under the impression that he will be obtaining tonight. As a result, you lay out the 'soft no,' in hopes that it will be enough to get the point across.

Head turning and glancing back at you upon hearing the words, you're a little taken aback by his response: less because of any of the potential, aforementioned reasons, but rather...because he appears confused.

Did he really think he had it in the bag that easily? Just because you showed up tonight?

The thought is enough to raise a level of irritation in you that has you feeling comfortable enough in asserting yourself just that much more. "I don't want to—I'm not going to—"

It still takes a second, but when he finally realizes, it seems to hit him like a semi-truck.

"O—Oh, no! No, no! That's not...I wasn't...I didn't think—"

Hands up in front of his chest as if in full retreat just on account of the mere implication of it, you're a little charmed by the tinge of blush that takes across his cheeks and especially highlights his ears.

But more than that, you believe him in his earnest.

"I just thought because it's quieter up here, no music and less people...I didn't think anything was going to—we can keep the door open! Or go back downstairs, anything is fine by me."

You're charmed, just a bit. You hate to admit it to yourself, and you certainly aren't going to admit it to this man, but you are.

Offering him a gentle smile, you nod back towards the direction in which he had been heading just prior. "It's fine, we can go—" you say, stepping forward again with insistence that Jeno do the same, and as the two of you meet side by side once more, you're careful to add one more addition, just for clarity sake.

"—But keep the door open."

A couple of days later and once the banging drum of headaches and hangovers have worn off, with the friend groups now thoroughly enough enmeshed on account of Renjun's family home and an absolutely unfathomable amount of adult beverages, the next most obvious plan of action is set into motion.

Dinner and bowling.

One thing about this town that you've come to realize is that there is little to do — and especially during the summer time — that doesn't directly involve alcohol and partying. With most restaurants and shops closed until the middle of August at least, the guys are happy enough to inform that there is still one mainstay left that doesn't involve having a terrible time the next morning.

The dinner seating is something that you can't help but take note of: two, long tables pushed together by the wait staff to accommodate such a large party of patrons, with Jeno sat right across the table from you, you notice the way that certain budding couples seem similarly paired off. It's sort of cute, in a way, but you choose not to pay it much mind. Sure, chats with the handsome blonde just along the way serve as a pleasant way to pass the time, and you'd be lying to yourself (and doing a terrible job of it, at that) if you tried to say that you hadn't at least briefly considered where else this could go just for a fun little before the vacation were to come to an end.

Just as the thought comes to its conclusion in your mind, your eyes come up and meet Jeno's over the brim of his beer glass.

That charming-ass eye smile.

Slowly, he brings the glass down while maintaining eye contact, his hand disappears under the table, and you watch his eyes fall to whatever it is that he's doing under there.

Your questions are answered promptly, however, by the vibration of your phone in your jacket pocket.

Jeno [18:12]: interesting seating arrangements we've got here

You try to bite back your smile. Easier said than done, and dealing with his texting antics much simpler when from the comfort of your own bedroom.

Still, you play along and begin typing our your response.

You [18:12]: almost like they're hinting at something

Jeno [18:12]: i'm not too good at signals, need someone to spell it out for me hehe

Glancing back up from your phone, you catch his eyes as he does the same with a knowing grin plastered across his lips.

You [18:13]: you'd have to ask them, i don't know anything about it :p

Jeno [18:13]: okay will do, but speaking of spelling it out...you look amazing tonight

Stilling in your seat at the sudden forwardness of the message, a typing bubble pops up again just as quickly as the previous message is received.

Jeno [18:13]: like really...you looked amazing the other night at the party too. do you always look amazing or is it just when you happen to be seeing me?

Clearing your throat, you shift in your seat just slightly before reaching forward and taking the glass placed in front of you into hand in preparation for a much needed sip of water. You ignore him purposefully, but you can feel the sharp gaze of the man in question as he monitors your every move.

Jeno [18:14]: don't think i didn't notice the way you were looking at me the day we met :0

Unfortunate, but you had been a bit obvious, largely on account of not having expected being faced with seeing this man ever again. You'll have to reel it in better next time.

You glance up again, this time with intention of meeting his eyes — from across the table, Jeno sits with one corner of his lips curved upwards ever so slightly, as if knowing precisely what it is that he's doing. Not surprising, of course, he's not coming onto you now on accident — but he's never been this forward and the only thing you can really chalk it up to now is the dwindling time left on yours and the girls remaining vacation time.

As they say, 'shit or get off the pot.'

But are you interested? Frankly, you're not really sure.

Handsome? Without a doubt. Nice? Sure, seemingly so. Trustworthy? Probably enough to enjoy a night together.

However, you can't help but remain starkly aware of the still gaping whole in your heart where Jaehyun not so long ago resided.

Looking over his features again, Jeno takes another sip of his drink: messy, blonde hair, beautiful eyes, the most charming smile and all accented by that devastatingly stunning mole seated just on his cheek bone.

Yeah, maybe you are, because when you take him in as he sits before you now, just like this, enjoying each and every physically enamoring aspect of a man all the more infatuated with you, as well — you can't help but wonder...

God, how nice is your dick, then?

And just like that, is if everyone in the world having a window of insight into your mind, your phone vibrates again. Naturally, your first thought being another text from Jeno as your eyes remain glued to him, but with every round of vibration that sends through the device it quickly dawns on you that not only has he not dipped his vision back down from you to fire off another round of flirtation, but rather that the disturbance coming through is not a text message at all.

It's a phone call.

Looking down, the number isn't one that you recognize although the location code is. Eyebrows furrowing in thought and vague concern as the screen continues to illuminate in your hand, you feel the gentle tap of a foot under the table and from quite evidently — right in front of you.

Eyes now upwards again, you meet Jeno's concerned ones, but you don't have much time to quell whatever worry he may have before you're up, out of your seat, and heading outside to take the call.

Your first thought is one that sends anxiety through every nerve under your skin: family or friends in emergency, god forbid something terrible having happened, but once you reach the parking lot and are met with the cool breeze of the coast just down the way — when you answer the phone, you come to find yourself no more quelled of fears upon hearing the voice on the other end.

"Hey," the voice says, low and seemingly already defeated. "Sorry, I know you're out of town, I just wanted to talk to you."

Heart beating nearly straight through your chest and hands shaking as you strain to hold your phone to your ear, you stand in silence as your mind races with the how's and why's of what this is and could mean.

After having not received a reply for so long that you don't even notice the amount of time passed, the man on the other end speaks again.

"Hello? Are you there? It's Jaehyun, sorry, I changed numbers."

"Uh, y—yeah, I know who it is, sorry, I'm just—" you pause again to think through your words carefully, as well as garnering yourself more time in an attempt to steady the quake in your voice. "—I wasn't expecting to hear from you."

Chuckling lightly, he carries on, and just before he does you catch a glimpse of the blonde previously seated across from you at the table as he carefully exits the establishment to check on your whereabouts.

"Yeah, I know. Is it a bad time? I think you might agree that we left off on the wrong foot."

Swallowing down the lump in your throat as you quietly acknowledge Jeno's presence, you're not entirely sure where to go from here. The way that your heart thumps strongly at hearing Jaehyun's voice again is one that's hard to ignore, but the way that he broke up with you and only now is contacting you again lies equally as much on your mind.

He doesn't deserve a conversation, and especially not a second chance, but it doesn't change the fact that deep down you want to grant him both.

For better or for worse, however, now isn't a good time.

"I'm out with the girls right now but I can call you tomorrow night, when there's less going on. You know how they are, always have me up to something."

"Sure, you have the number, call me any time," he says with the most calm and nearly adoring of tones. "I miss you, have fun."

"Th—thanks," you answer slowly, and with that, the call ends.

Standing in the middle of the parking lot with Jeno only a few feet away in silence, you suppose that it's probably written all over you the sort of affect that something like this has on you. Despondent and borderline broken after having only so much as heard a few simple words from a man who despite all of his poor treatment of you still holds such a strong place in your heart...

There's no other word for it, simply put, it's pain — and soul-crushingly so.

You can hear he gravel under Jeno's shoes as he slowly approaches you, and there's a small part of you that wishes he just doesn't. Go back inside, stop pretending to care about this or us beyond just wanting a quick fuck, quit playing the nice guy.

But you know you're projecting, and you bite back the venom of your thoughts so that they don't manifest into underserved words.

"You okay?" He sheepishly asks and with concern weighing heavily on his features. You force a half-assed smile in response.

"My ex-boyfriend called," you huff out a laugh. "Broke up with me over text a bit ago, now he wants to talk. Said he misses me."

"And you're gonna tell him to go fuck himself, right?" Jeno says, and much to your surprise. Not used to such a strong response from him in regards to, well, much of anything.

Shrugging, you let out a defeated sigh. "Maybe? No? Probably not."

Silence. Then you glance back towards him.

"I love him."

"Yeah, of course you do, it's fresh," he says delicately, closing the distance between the two of you to take your wrist into one of his hands and carefully usher you back inside. "But that doesn't mean he's deserving of it."

"I know."

A small squeeze of your wrist, as if just to let you know that he's there despite your already being well aware, and looking up towards him as the two of you re-enter the building, Jeno smiles at you widely with teeth and eyes on full display in a way that sort of reminds you to just live in the moment — the here and the now — and to worry about that, whatever that is, later.

"I'm just a guy, I get it," he starts with his face leaned into the side of your head to whisper the words directly into your ear. "But sometimes accidents happen on purpose."

Turning to look at him and meeting so close to his face that it has you just about startled, you roll your eyes and snort at his attempt to bestow aged wisdom upon you in your time of need.

"That doesn't make any sense, is that your idea of giving advice?"

Slinging an arm up and around your shoulders to pull you in tighter against him, he once again brings his face to the side of your own. "Yeah, how'd I do?"

"Terrible."

"Hey, but you laughed, though."

As it turns out, there are perks to making friends with the guy who works at the waterpark.

That is, beyond his good-looks, pleasing disposition and the fact that he tends to be quite into you, when Jeno invites you and yours back to the waterpark for some free-entry fun, the five of you can't help but take him up on the offer.

Besides, it gives you just that much more reason to have your phone out of sight and subsequently out of mind.

Rather than the typical morning arrival, however, Jeno tells you to come later in the evening on account of things tending to be more quiet. This turns out to be the case and much to all of your delight as the crowds have long since thinned out and lines to rides are much shorter than your last foray at the place of amusement. Still, it's less time to do as much as you all probably would have liked, and as the closing hours quickly approach, you and the girls make your way back to the lockers to not only collect your belongings, but once again meet with the man who brought you all there to begin with.

You come to realize that you're quite fond of how he looks fresh off of a work shift, with tousled hair and a bit of a sun-kissed glow to his skin only amplified by the glisten of water and sunscreen — when Jeno approaches the group you find that while yes, you have seen this man now numerous times before so the way that he looks is of no surprise to you, something about him like this, like right now, is different.

And as usual, when it comes to Jeno, you're the only person in the room.

One strong arm up and against the metal just like the time previously meeting like this, he all but cages you in as he leans casually against it to speak to you. "I've got to stay a bit late to do some minor maintenance in the backend, want to stay with me and we can go out afterwards or do you have somewhere to be with your friends?"

It's a lovely offer, and the idea of seeing a waterpark long past closing is an enticing one just for the thrill of it, but you're not one to pass up on dinner with the girls that brought you here for an after hours slide ride.

"We were actually about to head out to dinner, text me when you're out though and maybe we all can—"

"No. Way!"

The shrill voice comes from Ningning this time, and a bit to your surprise as it's typically either Karina or Winter with something loud and boisterous to say. Regardless, the woman comes up quickly from behind Jeno with arms crossed fiercely as if personally slighted by your unwillingness to ditch her.

"Dinner at the lil' diner down the block can wait, when the hot lifeguard asks you to stay after closing, you stay after closing."

"Ningning..." you bemoan first, only to look up at Jeno who is far too busy feigning a lack of listening in to the situation playing out right in front of him.

"Stay," she insists again, slinging a t-shirt up and over her shoulder before slowly sauntering away as if having won the war that she, herself, started. "We'll see you later—"

And just before disappearing entirely with the other women, she turns back once more with just another thing to add.

"—If you come home tonight, that is."

Jeno's work in the the back where some of the machinery is kept is quick and for that you are thankful on account of it being mind-numbingly boring watching him do anything at all that he is meant to do there. The flex of the muscles in his arms and back growing bland far sooner than you might have anticipated, you're happy to hear only twenty or so minutes in that he's finished and the two of you can carry on with your tour of the premises now that there is no one else there but the both of you.

As you walk, he tells you fun stories of silly happenings since his three years of working there has begun: tales of lost belongings on slides and peoples swim bottoms being stolen by the waves of the pools that artificially craft them, the two of you laugh into the calm, night air as you circle back around to the large river that spans nearly the entire lot of the waterpark — calm and meant mostly for simply lounging about in the sun, Jeno sits at one of the small tables offered just at the side and motions for you to sit just beside him, as well.

Still in nothing more than your swimsuit and a towel, it feels oddly comfortable. In fact, despite your checking, you haven't caught the man eyeing you down at all — not that that leads you into a false sense of believing that he simply hasn't, because frankly, you know better than that.

But at least he's willing to reign it in in the event that you could see him in the act.

And on top of that, you've been stealing glances yourself, anyway.

"Things good?" He asks, and it feels so abrupt given the timing. You know what he's referring to with eyes honed in on any possible change of your expression, but you attempt to maintain composure whilst under the proverbial microscope of his view.

"Yeah," you sigh, leaning back into your chair casually. "Everything is good. Sort of not looking forward to leaving next week."

Jeno smiles at the words. "Yeah, this town is fun, but only on vacation. I think you'd find if you lived here all year around you'd miss it back where you're from."

"Yeah, maybe."

"Just gonna have to make sure you get the best this place has to offer then," he says with a groan as he brings himself back up and to his feet. Hand extended out towards you with an offering to help you stand, you stare at him blankly for a few moments before slowly taking it and allowing yourself to be hoisted upwards. "Shall we take a swim, then?"

"Are we allowed—"

The thought suddenly cut off by the sight of Jeno reaching down and pulling off his loose, white tank top shirt. And sure, it's loose enough that you've more or less caught a glimpse of everything under there already, but not like this, not on full display.

"No, absolutely not," he laughs as he chucks it into the chair he was only just sat in. "But no one checks the cameras anyway and they already know I'm here after hours as it is so it's not going to ring any alarm bells that there's movement on site. Is that a yes?"

You pause. You need the moment to think this through, not that you even really want to. Deep down, you sort of know what this means, at least to the most basic extent, and sure — you can decline anything at any time and you're pretty certain he'll take it in stride — but still, saying yes to this is effectively saying yes to something.

"Yeah, let's take a swim."

The water feels colder now without the sun beating down on it but you come to find that the trade off is the way that the overhead lights as well as the submerged ones illuminate the water in such a beautiful way that everything glitters all around you. Following Jeno's lead as you both wade through and into one of the man-made rock sculpture caves that under typical servicing hours, lend much needed reprieve from the sunlight — now instead you feel a bit something like a character in a fantasy film: a mermaid coming back to her home as the wetness of the ocean glistens off of the barely lit walls of the faux-rock now surrounding you in hideaway.

Realistically, the scene is nothing special, but right now and with present company, your feeling of being locked away and hidden from any potential prying eyes feels especially heavy knowing precisely the thoughts that have weighed on both of your minds ever since they very first meeting here.

As silence falls between the two of you and you comfortably place yourself with your back against the smooth offering of rocks, you use it as a moment to take in the sight of him while he's not paying attention: shirtless and with flesh on full display, Jeno brings a hand up and out of the water to push his hair back and out of his face before catching hint of the fact that he has an audience, after all.

Then, he slowly closes the distance between the two of you, and with the tiniest grin of understanding perking at the corners of his lips, you suppose that there's a part of you that sort of always resigned yourself to this.

And really, what's summer vacation if not for having a summer fling?

One hand planted against the firm offering of rock on either side of you, caged in but feeling neither scared nor small on account of it, Jeno brings himself close enough to you that you have little more option that to struggle with your footing at the bottom of the pool and allow him the gentle insistence of settling between your legs.

Slowly, he dips his head down and towards you, but you pause the moment to speak in a whisper.

"You brought me here to do this, didn't you?"

To that, he only smiles again before continuing with the movement. "You came knowing that."

A gentle first kiss, perhaps much more so than you would have anticipated; rather than coming in hot and heavy from the start, the true feeling of being with and near him instead comes from the way his chest presses you tightly into place as his mouth slots firmly against your own. It's a little breathtaking, and somewhat overwhelming having been caged in like this by him, but with every forward movement of his lips and tongue against your own you can't help but feel as though the breath being pulled straight from your lungs, and with intent, at that.

The first, testing grind of his hips against you has you gasping into his mouth, and the sinister curl of his lips tells you that he couldn't be more pleased by the reaction.

One, strong hand dropping down from the rocks behind you and instead holding firm at your thigh from the underside, Jeno holds your leg up and out just enough to maintain the open space so that he has precisely the access that he desires like this, and with another slow, deliberate grind of what you know to be the solid length of himself beneath much too thin swim trunks, you can't help the way that your head lolls backwards and just about slaps into the solid structure behind you.

Pulling from your mouth as if to allow you the ability to breath, warm lips trail down your jaw line and back around to your ear, but rather than speaking anything in particular, the man simply allows you to listen to the quiet moans and exhales that drop from his lips as a result of the friction forming between the both of your bodies.

With every simulated drive of himself into you comes a breathy, needy sound fallen from his mouth. On top of that, with just the right angle, paired with just the right amount of speed and force behind his hips...

Surely you won't cum like this?

But with how heavenly he sounds against your ear and the tensing in your thighs and abdomen, you pull your bottom lip up between your teeth hard with eyes clenched shut as if not wanting to make it so evident just the effect he's having on you like this. Squirming within his grasp, and your orgasm feeling just on the cusp but ever so slightly out of your hands, you huff out with frustration and throw all caution to the wind in a desperate whirlwind of pleading events.

"Please, God, I want you," you whine against his ear. "Want to feel you."

It's a terrible idea and you know that, for a plethora of reasons. However, you're horny and on the edge of cumming and cannot possibly be concerned with any of them. You've been good enough up until now pretending to have little to no interest in his cock at all, but enough is enough, especially as it glides against you rock hard and barely clothed between your bodies.

Jeno, for better or for worse, has other plans.

"Want that too," he whispers against your ear, the hot puffs of his breath washing over the otherwise warm, wet smooth of your skin. Unfortunately, instead of freeing himself from the very same confines that plague you, he merely picks up the pace of his hips against yours.

As well as aiding with a slight shift of the angle at which he grinds against you.

Turns out, that'll do the trick.

Orgasm fast approaching now as he repeatedly presses his hips against the apex of your thighs, he continues with the original train of thought. "You ever been fucked in a body of water like this? Doesn't make for great lubrication, unfortunately—"

You can't be bothered to pay all that much attention to the science lesson, and with your hands gripping into his back and biceps as he continues hard and fast against you, you feel the distinct feeling of his teeth dragging down ever so slightly against the column of your neck in such a way that it has your head spinning and toes curling with how close to the edge you are like this.

Not for long, though, as he finishes the thought entirely. "—Want that glide to be so fucking smooth."

Frankly, you're not used to hearing him curse all that much, so when he does it's especially meaningful, so when he shoots down your begging for him to fuck you instead because he has far more delightful plans for you in the future and under more optimal circumstances, you couldn't bite back the shriek if you had tried as your orgasm tears through you with so much force that you swear you may crack a tooth with how tightly your teeth are clenched through it.

And like a good boy, Jeno 'fucks' you through it as every shockwave of release jolts through your body and your clit begs to be untouched. Releasing the grip on you, he pulls his face back around to look you in the eyes with an all-too-proud grin plastered across his lips — though, you don't get much of a chance to fight him on it as those very same ones quickly meet yours just as adoringly as the first time.

When he pulls back, he's still smiling — odd behavior for the un-orgasmed half of the equation, you think, but before speaking, the man brings a hand up to your forehead to delicately wipe away a handful of stray hairs that found their way there in all of the debauchery.

Eyes meeting, you can tell he has something to say, and that you're probably not going to like it.

"You wanted me to fuck you, and raw at that."

"Oh come on!" You groan in playful embarrassment, pushing him away from you with desperate splashes of water left in your wake as you escape. Jeno only laughs as he trails behind lazily.

"You did," he reaffirms with a teasing chuckle. "You so did."

The following days come to pass far quicker than you had anticipated, you're soon to find.

With every day, every moment now seemingly enmeshed between the groups of friends, time with Jeno is more common than time away — no one hears about the goings on at the waterpark, at least, not on your end (and you have reason to believe that he hasn't said anything either on account of the fact that Jaemin would never shut up about it if he had) — but there's evidence enough in the distinct change of something between the two of you as the brief, casual brushing of hands slowly transforms into open and public slotting together of fingers during movie nights and not-so-concealed presses of kisses to the temple of your head at any time that Jeno seems to be able to close the distance between your bodies.

It's nice, and you can admit as much to yourself without fear or worry. The problem lies in the fact that therein resides so much more than it simply being nice now, and in fact, you're somehow managed to stumble yourself precisely in the line of fire of what it is you had sort of been hoping to avoid this entire time.

Granted, it's not necessarily worth a conversation on account of logistics and the more or less of what this is, but still, even with it only having been two weeks since you've met this guy, he reads a bit like an open book, and if there's one thing you're fairly certain you have down about him and the way his mind works, it's that he wants to have that talk, regardless of the realistic outcome.

Really, it's the least you can do on account of the whirlwind, summer romance you've happily found yourself wound up in, in spite of everything.

On the last night before you and yours leave to go back into the city, the blowout house party is at home; Ningning's summer house. An excellent decision on account of the fact that the five of you can pack up early the day before and simply wake up to leave the next day with little more to worry about than some final touches and your hangovers as a result.

Though, leaving the next day is far from what you currently wish to be attending much thought to.

With folding chairs strewn about around some of the tables in the back yard, as well as the barbecue that's fired up and attended to by Renjun, Mark and Giselle; with a red, plastic cup in hand as you sit facing out towards the crashing waves of the beach, you can't help but allow your gaze to fall to the side and onto the object of your desire that was never really supposed to end up as much more than simply the hot guy that worked at the waterpark.

Instead, you watch him as he engages in a conversation with Winter — a playful argument about which dog breeds are cutest — and it's times like this that you make a conscious effort to take mental snapshots of this moment, right here, right now. Making sure that you never forget this feeling, never forget what it was like to live in this time with the guy who sports such quintessential summer hair and reminds you of what it feels like to feel young once more, and forever.

Eyes curved into perfect, crescent shapes and a matching perfect smile as he laughs along to whatever it is that your friend is saying, suppose he must feel the heavy weight of eyes upon him as he shifts to grant you his attention once more.

There's a few seconds of silence, but you watch the way his face melts from one of joyous laughter to something that's more akin to fond adoration.

"Want to go talk?"

Jeno doesn't look all that surprised when you say the words, and instead offers you the gentlest of smiles, as if already anticipating as much, anyway.

"Sure, let's talk."

It's colder the closer the two of you get to the waves of the water, the sound of them crashing lightly against the muddy sands that lie beneath — with the sun just about set already and hues of orange with purple only barely peeking out from above the costal line — with legs dangled over the side of the small, wooden pier, Jeno slings an arm up and over your shoulders to tug you closer against himself, partially for the warmth and combatting the breeze, but really, just because he wants to have you there.

"Have fun?" He finally asks, you nod against him.

"I've kind of fallen for you a bit, ya know that?"

To this admission, Jeno reels so hard that it has you looking up at him — he looks far more shocked than you would have anticipated going into this because...obviously? And as a result, you snort out a laugh. "What? Isn't it obvious?"

"I mean—I'm just...surprised, I guess?" He admits awkwardly before settling back into place. "We're having fun and I was trying so damn hard, but I didn't think it actually worked."

"You're kinda oblivious, yeah?"

Jeno laughs. "I've heard that before, yeah."

With the words now out in the open, you allow there to be some silence between the two of you — something of a ruminating of what this is and what that means between the two of you right now, with no real need to add anything more to it in immediate time.

Instead, the two of you look out towards the water — still painted with pinks and purples as the sun sets over it for its final few minutes before nightfall.

You inhale to speak, though you're not thrilled about it despite its necessity.

"We can't...keep this going, you know," you say first, choosing words carefully as you carry out the thought. "It was fun but you know...back to real life, back to home."

Glancing up to gauge his response, Jeno only smiles as the words for a few, passing seconds before looking down at you and responding.

"Yeah, I know."

Through more silence, you think that you can feel it in his chest the way his heart beats in such a way that the sadness of the circumstances is evident. An unfortunate reality of such things: sometimes it really is wrong place, wrong time, wrong location, wrong...everything but you.

Standing again and heading back inside with fingers interlocked, you can't help but think of how the thing they never tell you about short term relationships is that they can be just as meaningful, just as impactful as long term ones. There's nothing inherently lesser, or worse, or meaningless about them — a snapshot in time where everything between you and someone else was perfect and incapable of being tarnished, at that — really, it's an ideal circumstance, especially as someone with a desire to rekindle hope in the concept of loving and being loved.

Just because a relationship ends, doesn't mean it lacks value.

And when you go back home, you'll take Jeno with you: perfect hair, perfect smile, and adorably unaware disposition all packaged up as a reminder of how good it can be to simply be.

Getting back inside, after enjoying the inviting sights and sounds of the quiet outdoors, the unrelenting boom of loud music and yelling friends pierces your ears in such a way that you can't help but attempt to curl in on yourself and escape from it. Jeno takes notice with a squeeze of your hand upon arriving to the kitchen, quickly pouring drinks for each of you and then dipping down next to your ear.

"Want to go upstairs where it's quieter?"

Yeah, of course you do. Still one last thing on the agenda for this trip, after all.

Discarding nearly full cups and making your way up the stairs; through the hallway that's all too familiar to you by now, you can't help but call back to the last time you'd done this very same walk, with this very same man: a few key differences now compared to then that are worth taking note of, however. For one, Jeno's grip on your hand as he leads you up despite not even being entirely sure which room it is that you'd once called yours is, and two, you now find yourself far more open to any potential scenarios that may arise.

In fact, you're hoping that they do.

Swapping places and taking the lead, Jeno follows just behind you as you open the door to your bedroom — stepping inside where all of your packed bags and other such belongings not yet able to be stuffed away until the very last moment lie about on countertops or draped over chair backs — when the two of you step inside, you realize that there's a part of you that has sort of already come to this conclusion a long time ago. It's difficult to pinpoint the exact moment, and likely well enough before the late evening spent alone with him at his place of employment, rather, your memory lands at that time in the parking lot, when your ex called, and Jeno was right there to pick up the proverbial pieces of you.

It wasn't much, just that he was there. Sometimes that's enough.

Turning back to face him, it's a quick movement and so much so that the surprise of it is evident on his face with wide eyes and a late response to the feeling of your lips on his, but more than that, the sound of the door shutting behind his back and locking into place by no ones insistence but your own.

He's quick enough on the uptake, however; hands coming up to slot gently on either side of your face to pull you just that much more into the kiss — and with the length of your body pressed just as hard against him as he stands pinned between you and hard wood, the close proximity is just so giving in how you're able to catch every hitch of his breath in his throat and forced back groan in his chest.

You pull back, and with a wickedly playful grin across your face. "You've been waiting?"

To that, Jeno scoffs before bringing hands down to your shoulders and gently pushing you to step backwards towards the bed. "Only as long as you have."

The removal of clothing is quick but never quick enough despite the flurry of fabric strewn about the floor through the incessant need to kiss and be kissed by him. Rather, the two of you only part from one another if it's required to discard something that now, more than ever, is no longer desired.

The irony, of course, is in the fact that the both of you have already seen so much of what there is to be seen. Swimsuits only leaving so much to the imagination, as is the same for the pool boys usual choice of lazy attire — you come to find that when presented differently, the absence of clothing and the emergence of skin that you think you've already grown used to couldn't be further from the case. It looks different, feels different — the smooth palm of your hands sliding over arm muscles that you've already felt so many times before as his teeth catch at the bottom of your lip in a kiss that only becomes that much more heated with every passing second — the man that you've known all of the way up until now still might just have so much more still to show you.

At least, that was your impression from the waterpark festivities that evening.

Creating space between your bodies only long enough to plop yourself back and onto the mattress, Jeno wastes no time in following you as he slots himself between your legs and once again kisses you as if never able to have enough of it. One hand pressed into the mattress beside your head, the other trails down the length of your form to settle right between your legs — and now, with no barriers between you and him but his own undergarments — just one, casual dip of his middle finger shallowly between your folds is enough to have your breath hitching differently against his lips.

He grins at the reaction, but says nothing.

Instead, he dips his head down leaving a trail of kisses and nips of his teeth into the flesh of your neck, shifting his positioning back and just enough to be able to mouth over one of your nipples with a firm, swirl of his tongue. It's nice, but nothing special — at least, not before the same pad of his finger between your legs finds such light but evident purchase against your clit.

Slow, careful circles rubbed against you, back arching ever so slightly off the bed and up against his mouth as he continues teasing licks against your flesh, it's a certain kind of torment feeling so much and not enough all at once, and you can't help but consider one fact: he knows it.

You're not one to beg (well, other than that one time), and you're certainly not going to be undone so easily by a guy that for all intents and purposes you barely even know, and biting back a groan, you tightly knit your eyes shut in hopes that perhaps he's not torturing you on purpose — dragging this out because you both know it's the first and last time you'll ever get to have it — and surely he'll make quick work of you soon enough.

But the slow, down and inward press of the same finger towards your opening, only to replace the empty spot with his thumb has you thinking otherwise.

Jeno barely penetrates you with the single tip of his digit — if he does, it's so shallow that you can barely even feel it — a crime in and of itself, but amplified by the fact that you're racing towards the point of no return in what it is that you want, and if he insists on teasing you with the opportunity of being filled by him, then little does he know that he's stumbled upon the grandest of unravelings of you.

A heavy exhale, you decide you have to look down to take it all in, and especially if you're going to have a chance at saying words at any point in time. As you crack an eye open, Jeno switches breast to take your other nub between warm, wet lips — and it's then that he digs a finger into you just a bit deeper than before and all the while maintaining attention to the aching bundle of nerves held captive beneath his thumb.

Now you're frustrated, and you're not sure you can hold evidence of that back much longer.

With another heavy exhale, you attempt to bear down your hips against his hand to feel more of him, but to that, Jeno looks up to meet eyes with you wearing a look that almost tells of disapproval.

"In a hurry?"

You groan, not entirely sure if at the words or the implications behind them.

He wants to take his time.

"No, just—" you all but whimper, head thrown back against the pillow beneath it once again as if resigned to simply being along for the ride with this man. "—Kind of killing me, here."

"Why?" He questions with lips still feathering against the skin of your chest.

Then, the finger far too casually settled at your opening is slowly driven in to the last knuckle, and it feels fucking electric.

"This what you want?"

For someone who has always had a low tone of voice, you're not sure where the next few levels in drop have come from, same going for the erotic gravel that courses through his throat with every word he says against you. Either way, that in combination with the full length of his middle finger buried in your cunt already has you wondering just how it is that you're going to get through this particular night.

Guys like this are supposed to kiss you, get a blowie, maybe give you the sloppiest oral sex you've ever had (but hey, at least the effort is there), and then fuck you into the mattress for a full, mind blowing three minutes before rolling onto their backs and passing out.

So, what the fuck is this?

"Yes," you resign yourself to answering, because presumably you won't receive much else if not for your going along with it. Squirming against his hand again, you feel him pull from you ever so slightly before once again burying the hand deep against you.

Jeno hums before speaking again. "I don't think it is, but I think you're willing to settle for now."

Oh, he's so annoying when knuckle deep in pussy.

It's then that he pulls himself up and into a knelt position between your legs: not removing his hand from your pussy, but instead, bringing the other one — now freed — to the same position.

The new thumb coming down to collect the slick collecting around his finger, he brings it to your clit to focus one hand entirely on that motion, and now leaving the other to focus entirely on the place where he enters you. Now, however, with far more range of movement and ease of angle, Jeno settles into a smooth, rhythmic flick of his wrist to once again simulate fucking you the way that you really want him to.

Everything but what you actually want, and it's driving you fucking insane.

It's almost perfect, though, and that you find irritating in and of itself. Glancing up at him, Jeno's attention is spent mostly on watching you and your face, only occasionally allowing his eyes to drop down to take in the sight of the absolute mess he's making of you now.

He adds a second finger, and with it, a slightly faster rhythm.

Still trying not to sound entirely defeated and fucked out, in the absence of your moans, instead the room fills with the familiar, wet sounds of the work that he's doing on you — and upon the realization, you might have to just moan, it's less humiliating than this.

A certain curl of his fingers, however, and you don't have to weigh the pros and cons any longer as the sound is ripped from your throat whether you like it or not.

"Oh," he whispers in the event of it, as if pleased by his sudden findings. "You liked that one."

"Sh—Shut up," you barely manage out in reply before another groan falls from you, and while you're frustrated and horny, you muster up the desire you begin making requests. "Faster," you whine out, hips grinding down against his hand in hopes for more friction against your clit.

"Demanding," Jeno coos in response, though not heeding it whatsoever and much to your displeasure. Instead, you feel another shift in the mattress from his movement, and despite being somewhat terrified of the next thing that this guy could have up his sleeve for you, you look down towards him...

Only to find him settling face first with your pussy, and two fingers carefully finding their way back inside of you.

"You're lucky I'm kind of a pushover," he says with a small chuckle, and punctuating it with a long, firm lick through the slit of your pussy that has your entire body trembling with promise. "You want to cum, then I'll make you cum."

There's not much to say to that, and not that you'd be able to on account of his lips quickly attaching themselves around the very spot that craves the attention. Less than that is the amount of time that you have to think over the fact that you're not going to be able to hold out very long due to him toying with you up until this moment, either. You consider that there's always a bit of ego involves in situations such as this — not wanting to appear too eager, too interested, but you suppose it's long past that point now, anyway.

With fingers dug deep inside of you and the expertly pointed grind of his tongue against your clit — relentlessly quick and just like you'd asked of his hand only moments prior, he's definitely trying to make you cum, and he most certainly is going to get his reward, as well.

Bottom lip pulled tightly between your teeth as every muscle in your lower body tenses for the impending release; one hand gripped into the sheets just below and the other coming up to find purchase in the bleached blonde hair that you've grown so fond of after such a short time — you're not able to say much as it feels as though every breath is being sucked out of you by the man as he teeters you on the edge one last time before pushing you over it — instead, you're somewhat displeased by how easy it is to say his name in little more than an airy chant; over, and over, and over again as he finally topples you over into orgasmic release and with a rush hitting so hard and so fast that any sound that once would have escaped from you is instead replaced with a silent shriek of nothingness as a result of your dry, spent throat.

You need a moment before anything else happens — many moments, in fact — of heavy breaths and a heaving chest as you attempt to collect yourself in the aftermath of it all, and there's a split second where the thought crosses your mind that if this was all that would amount from your night together with him, that might actually be good enough.

Still plenty of time left in the evening, however.

Finally, you pull in a full breath of fresh air before looking back down towards Jeno: face cradled in one hand and gazing at you with nothing but proud adoration in his eyes, you're annoyed but not enough to ignore the disheveled mess of hair atop his head, as well as the wet glisten of you that's still happily sported along his chin.

"Good?"

He's so annoying.

You roll your eyes. "Yes, you like being praised or something?"

"Doesn't everyone?" He playfully responds, once again dragging a finger through the prominent wetness of your folds. "Look how wet you are, so good for me."

You know he's toying with you, not meaning anything in particular by it, but you're not proud of how evidently correct he is, either. Regardless, he changes the subject fairly quickly beyond it.

"Are you down and out for the night already?" Jeno chuckles, pulling himself up and into a kneeling position once again and if anticipating the fact that you'll tell him you're not.

It's only then that you finally get a real, good look at the lining of what lies hidden beneath the last remaining black garment on him.

Not done, not even close.

Sitting up only long enough to grab an arm and pull him back down with you, Jeno catches himself with both palms splayed out on the mattress as you pull him into a kiss once again. This time is different, however. Beyond the taste of yourself so evident on his mouth, he kisses you in a way that's far needier, less held back than all of the other times before. Always wanted you, and probably painfully so, but not enough to ever put that above anything else at hand.

But, suppose it's his turn now.

Hand dipping down between both of your bodies and wasting no time slipping into the black fabric to feel him, your fingers wrap around the smooth flesh of his cock in such a way that already has him sighing into your mouth — it's sort of addicting, the way he sounds and feels and looks like this, at the mercy of you and only ever really wanting you since the moment he laid eyes — in ways, it's a job well done, and now he shall receive his prize.

Though, you're not even really sure which one of you is winning, now.

It's difficult to get a feel for metrics just by touch — but thick and plenty long enough come to mind in a way that's far too dizzying to spend too much time thinking about. You give him a few lazy tugs before Jeno pulls up and away from you entirely to hang over the edge of the bed and fish out the most obvious thing from his pants pocket.

"Came prepared," you casually comment, and when he comes back up with the package in hand, he only sighs in relief.

"Not a chance I was going to fuck this up by not thinking ahead," Jeno responds firstly, finally shuffling the fabric at his hips down and revealing the full sight of himself to you. "Though, you'd let me hit without it anyway, I guess."

"Oh my God!" You whine in embarrassment, reaching up to playfully slap his arm as he rolls the condom along himself. "Moment of weakness, I would have come to my senses."

Settling back down lengthwise against your body, Jeno kisses you hard once more as you feel the distinct wrapping around your thigh of an arm that intends to have you fully splayed open for him. Once finished there, the same hand comes between you — dragging the wide, length of his cock through your wetness before even attempting to push inside.

It's similarly torturous to before, however, and your squirming beneath his body is evidence of it enough.

Forearm holding his body weight, Jeno shifts his hand upwards so that he can touch your face as he continues to bring you to madness — soft kisses peppering not only your lips but your jaw, cheeks, and even falling down onto your neck — you can't tell if he's doing it purposefully in hopes that you'll beg, or if he truly has no idea just what it is that he's doing.

You believe it to be the former, though.

Regardless, he's a man worn thin of patience himself, and your requests are not needed to feel the incredibly present stretch of him entering you.

Embarrassingly slick for him and well prepared, you're reminded of the comment he made back the last time you two shared a moment such as this — how he wanted it to be different, right, in some ways, and as the feeling of him pushing to fill you to the brim brings you to nearly dizzying new heights — with fingers gripped into the skin of his back and shoulders and teeth gritted, you can kind of see why.

You don't want to say his cock is perfect, but it's pretty fucking good.

Once fully seated inside of you, Jeno brings that hand back to your thigh to pull it wide and away. Rather than moving right away, he allows you some time to get used to him — no stranger to a big dick, but a wide one certainly tends to take a second each and every time. In the meantime; lips trailing down your neck, sucking and biting into the skin as you try to bite back the whimpers that threaten you already — unfortunately, you're soon to find this man to be no such help in you maintaining your composure.

Stray fingers curled into your hair — not to pull or cause pain, nothing more than simply holding you there — you become starkly aware of how consumed you are by him now, and with hot breath cascading across your ear and cheeks, you're once again faced with that same low, gravely tone of voice from earlier that had you coming nearly undone in the palm of his hand.

"How do you like it?"

Barely coherent enough to register the question, you feel the shiver the words send down your body as a result of it, all the same — as if somewhere in your subconscious well aware of the implications long before your present and aware mind capable.

Before you can answer, however, his voice drops lower and down into a whisper against the shell of your ear. "How do you want me to fuck you?"

Another chill, and with it paired with one shallow drive of himself against you.

"Been dying to feel you cum around my cock, so please," he says, and this time with desperate emphasis coloring the plea at the end.

"Tell me how you want to be fucked."

The shivers subsequently pooling right between your legs and at the very spot where Jeno enters you — you know well enough that he can feel the way your cunt clenches down hard around the thick of him with every pointed, filthy word that drops from his lips. More than that, however, is the way your fingernails dig that much harder into his flesh at the promise of finally receiving precisely what it is that you want from him.

To be fucked stupid, and borderline incoherent.

He doesn't wait for an answer from you before beginning a calm, steady rhythm against you, though. Smart enough to know that regardless of your answer, you both do require friction from this sort of engagement — rather, just like the time before it's the particular way his breath hitches and he softly groans into your ear with every tight, wet hug of your pussy against his thrusts that is quite possibly doing you in more than the actual action itself is.

No matter, though, because your mind is made up.

"Harder," you whimper out for him with hips pushing up to meet his actions. "Fuck me harder, deeper—"

His next drive into you has your entire body moving up the length of the bed, as well as any further words or thoughts lost somewhere in the mix between.

The next shift in positioning is quick, so much so that it has your head spinning ever so slightly as you feel him bring his torso off of your own to prop himself up and over you once more — it's better leverage for harder thrusts, and even more is the capturing of one of your stray wrists in hand just before settling himself in place. Effectively pinned beneath him, there's a brief moment where he stills — flashes you a look to check in and make sure you're not displeased with the new development, because there's always a bit of growing pains in an attempt to take the lead, be sexy, and more than that, not overstep any boundaries.

But really, you know he just wants to do whatever it takes to make you cum as hard as possible, and it's a commendable effort, that much is for sure.

Two, three hard drives into you with your wrist pinned just next to your head and you're all but crying out for him. Figure, that's probably motivation enough.

Jeno continues to fuck you hard, but not especially fast as every drive of his length into you is deliberate, pointed, and angled perfectly to find and continue to rub against that particular spot that has you tensing and shaking beneath him. Watching him from this angle above you; muscles firm and flexed with every calculated thrust, mouth only slightly hung ajar as eyes that now remain nearly glued to the place that the thickness of his cock disappears inside of you with slickened ease — it's hard to imagine that you ever considered not allowing yourself this moment in time, because God, he's going to get precisely what he set out for.

Glancing up from that place, Jeno's eyes meet your own before clenching shut tightly to take in the feeling of you. "Fuck, you feel so fucking good."

He was right, the praise thing is pretty fucking excellent. Might as well pay it back.

Bearing down to meet one of his thrusts, you whine out for him in response. "Feel so good," you start before another hard pound of his hips against your own interrupts the thought. "F—Feel so big."

With that, you feel his hips falter ever so slightly, paired with a light chuckle falling from his lips.

"Don't say that," he says in a laugh. "Talk about how big it is and I'll cum in two second flat."

This knowledge piques your interest, hand that remains unpinned coming up to lightly cradle his face. "That's what does it for you, huh? Like hearing about how big your cock is? How full I feel when—"

"I'm serious!" Jeno then gasps suddenly, stilling his motions between your legs altogether and laughing all the while. "I'm not joking, I will cum right now if you keep it up, no one wants that."

You laugh to match him. "Okay, okay! I didn't realize it was that bad..."

Dipping down again, Jeno kisses you hard and firm on the mouth before pulling back up and delivering a single, hard drive of himself into you. "It's bad, and if I cum before you do I'm going to put my fucking head in the blender, so may I?"

"By all means."

It's out of scene and not a particularly sexy conversation, but it is one that reminds you of all of the things that you seem to adore about the man. Someone who can be everything and at a moments notice: caring, funny, sexy, good in bed, bad in bed should the moment fit — it serves as all the more reason that you're thankful for your making of the decision to go through with this, after all. Not just for the sex, because sex can be found anywhere — but rather, because of this particular moment right here and now, shared with this particular man.

And that, you can't find just anywhere.

Jeno wastes no time settling back into things as he fucks into you hard once again, but also faster than previously. There's something about the new angle that he's settled himself in — a perfect lean of his torso over yours that has the shaft of his cock rubbing perfectly against your clit in such a way that has your body tensing and nerves firing with each and every thrust of himself into your cunt. This time, over the sounds of wet and skin meeting, instead it's you that's heard in particular over everything else — with no way or ability to bring yourself back down from the impending doom of the orgasm that's now threatening to rip through you at a moments notice.

Of course, Jeno notices, and probably feels as much with how tightly wrapped around his cock you are — and if he's close to cumming himself, you can't tell through his composure as his steady hips never once falter through the loud whines and whimpers that fall from you on account of him.

"Close?" He asks, well aware of the way you fall apart beneath him and with no other interest than you get you precisely there.

You nod quickly. "Harder, harder, fuck—"

And you don't have to ask twice as Jeno once again settles into a different position — unpinning your wrist and instead bringing both of his large, strong hands down to clasp onto the dip of your hips for leverage — instead now he holds the ability to not only fuck up into you, but also pull you down onto his cock, and in even quicker, harder succession.

You sort of wish you could have enjoyed the feeling of him like this just a bit more — the full, thick pull of his cock against your walls with every fluid drag of himself against you — but instead, Jeno is only granted a handful more drives of himself into you like this before you're crying out and cumming hard around him in electric pulses and waves of clenches down around his length.

Reduced to nearly whining, Jeno doesn't stop his relentless force into you in chase of his own release now that his job here is done, and rather, you're not quite satisfied with the impending end of this scenario just yet, either.

"Cum, baby," you whisper out to him, and you're certain that you can see the way the pet name all but deep fries his brain in real time with the clench of his facial features upon hearing it. "Want you to cum on me, wanna see it."

Another shockwave to an already far too aroused mans brain, he attempts to shake it off long enough to focus back on the task at hand but shortly thereafter realizes that there isn't much left to focus on. Four or five more hard thrusts into your cunt, Jeno quickly withdraws from you — peeling the condom from his glistening wet length and swiftly palming over himself in quick succession to bring himself the rest of the way there over your messy, exposed pussy and stomach.

But really, you just want to watch him stroke it.

A beautiful sight: a man desperate and on the verge of orgasm, fast at hand to bring himself over the edge, the muscles in Jeno's abdomen tense as he teeters on the edge of release for your viewing pleasure, and as his breaths begin to hitch in his throat only to be replaced by short, pained whimpers, you deliver the killing blow for him.

"So big, cum for me baby—"

Granted, you hadn't planned much of a script in your head past that point, but it would go unneeded anyway as you watch Jeno's fist stutter to a halt halfway down the shaft of his cock before emptying his load atop the already messy pool of wetness gathered at your spread open folds.

And perhaps nothing better than the loud, anguished groan of his release as he slowly finishes stroking himself over your cunt and to completion.

Kinda defeats the purpose of condoms but the two of you will have to take that up with the health clinic another day.

Slumping down and onto his back next to you, both with quickly rising and falling chests in an attempt to breath air that brings something other than the scent of sex, Jeno is the first to lean into you to press a kiss to your temple, just like so many times before.

"Good?" He asks.

You hum coyly before shrugging. "It'll do, I guess."

"Nice, that's what I am for. Have all the ladies in town like 'eh, it was this or reruns of Friends."

Smiling, you inhale deeply with thoughts of this. All of this, and just how nice it is. You wonder briefly if this is a life you could see yourself getting used to — being had and held by the man lying next to you — before the stark reminder of it not even so much as being an option settles in once more.

Short term relationships are valid, and giving — and you couldn't possibly end this one off on a better note.

Take it for what it is.

Waking together in the morning is as nice as the night before, albeit far less involved. Even through the entanglements of limbs and an incredibly pointed lack of clothing on either of you, you're the first to stir with Jeno still lying beside you, although quickly met by the man to have gentle pecks and other such trinkets of adoration bestowed upon you in what is now your final couple of hours left together.

In the shower, there's a moment that you think maybe it can be done after all, and as Jeno stands with toothbrush in hand and mouth full, when you dip your head out to make a mention of the prospect to him, once your eyes meet you can't help but cower back behind the stained glass from which you had come.

Don't ruin this, just let it be.

With bags lazily packed and messily stuffed into the car, the friend groups say their goodbyes at around noon, and with the way that some of them go, you think that you and Jeno far from the only two who consummate their relationship on the final night.

It's sort of sad, in a way, but you suppose you're glad you're not alone in feeling this way.

Turning to face Jeno one, final time — eye smile and freckle that you've grown so fond of — his hands come up to cradle the sides of your face before pulling you into a tender kiss for the final time, his eyes never leaving yours in the pull back even for a second.

Hands dropping to pinky fingers on each hand interlocked as you begin to make your way to the vehicle, you're thankful at least that Jeno have the ability to maintain a strong facade in the aftermath of all of this because frankly, you're not so sure how well you're going to fair once it's all said and done.

There's a pause with arms extended as you open the car door, the link between you and him now stretched nearly as far as it can be held by a mere two fingers — all the while, his gaze never falls from you.

And neither does his smile.

"Safe drive."

Two unreasonably gut-wrenching words.

"We will."

And just like that, you're off.

Arm propped up on the side of the door, the inside of the car is dead silent. You know why. Everyone knows why. No one really wants to talk about it.

Then, your phone buzzes.

Digging it from your bag, you're not entirely sure what to expect, though you're hoping not to find one thing in particular. Instead, you're pleasantly surprised by the name that flashes up on the screen.

Well, suppose that's a bit of an understatement.

Jeno ♡♡ [12:22]: so, what are your plans for winter vacation, anyway?

♡ send me your thoughts and feelings in my ask.

—this is a oneshot, there will be no part 2 (probably)

[worldofkuro]

idk if it sounds selfish but i need more comfort in my life rn, so i wanna ask for help.

if it's not really a big deal, i wanna see some comfort between alastor and reader when they were teens. maybe after he already told her that he wants to marry her, and something made her feel insecure and bad about herself. so she called Marie and ask Alastor to come, so she could lie down in his arms and listen him telling her that he loves her anyway.

or any other plots because I'll be okay with everything if it's fluff. thank you.

Of course dearest, anything for you to feel better. For those who will notice it, their last sentence is from the song “ Follow You” by Bring me the Horizon. I love this song and I thought it was pretty fitting. So here ,my dear, this scenario isn’t very long but I hope it will make you feel better. 

Follow You

You were coming back from school, trying to contain your tears. 

You had told Alice about Alastor’s wedding proposal and she was excited for you but some other girls heard you and made fun of you. How could a man see you desirable enough to be his wife? Most of the time, you didn’t care about their vile words, but you didn’t know why, today it was hurtful. Of course, Alice had taken your side immediately swearing at them like a sailor.

You didn’t greet your parents as you went immediately into your bedroom, hiding yourself under the blankets. You couldn’t even look at yourself in the mirror. Were you even worth being Alastor’s wife? He would always say you were “endearingly stupid”, did it mean he saw you as a stupid girl? Was he manipulating you?

Were you worth being special to someone’s heart?

You jerked your head up as you heard a knock on your window. You wiped your eyes and saw Alastor, his fist against the glass, staring at you. You opened the window quickly, scared he would fall.

“ Alastor, what are you doing here?”

“ I heard my mother talking with yours through the telephone, saying you didn’t feel well, so I came to check on you.” he entered your room, looking at you. You saw his eyes stopped at your tearied one. You tried to look away but he gripped your face, making sure he could watch your expression. “ Who?”

“ What..?”

“ Who made you cry?” he said with a gentle smile but his eyes had a dark glint.

“ No one.. It’s just… Am I worth it , Alastor?”

You gasped as Alastor forced you to lay on your bed, pushing something soft in your arms. Looking down on it you almost cried some more as you saw Eamon staring back at you. You squeezed it against your chest as Alastor laid next to you, observing your face.

“ Dearest, you’re just like a jewel. Being desired by people and those who can't have you are jealous. You are like a fresh breeze in summer, so short and yet so welcomed. You are much more than how you perceive yourself.”

“ But.. I feel like I’m going to be a useless wife…”

“ Hah! You, my dear, a useless wife? You could be doing nothing at home, as long as you are waiting for me, I would feel the happiest. But why would you think that? You have always been to my side, always accepted me. Why would I choose someone else to be next to me for my entire life? How could I look at anyone else now that my eyes have seen you?”

“ Alastor.. Do you love me…?”

He looked perplexed but wrapped his arms around your body, staring at your eyes without blinking.

“ I don’t know what love is about. But if loving you is wanting to devour you all, to protect you, you have your attention on me all the time, then I guess.. that I love you. But please, dearest, remember that even though I adore you, more than anything, my love is tainted with darkness. No matter how much I’m obsessed with you, I’ll drag you down to hell with me. I'm telling you, you're all I need, I promise you, you're all I see. I’ll never leave.” he stared at you, waiting for your answer.

“ I’ll follow you.’ you breathed, staring at his chocolate eyes. “So dig two graves because when you die, I swear I'll be leaving by your side. So you can drag me through hell, I’ll follow you.” you smiled sweetly at him as he beamed at your words, his cheeks flushed. He squeezed you against his body, Eamon between the both of you. 

You would always be together, the both of you. Alastor would always be by your side, like a curse, clawing at you to keep you from leaving, even if you would never think such a thing.

Your love was twisted, tainted in dark obsession but it was perfect for the both of you. Maybe people wouldn’t consider it as love, but you knew deep inside, Alastor would always chase after you if you were to run away. If you were to run away because of your feelings, your fears, everything, the only person who would chase you would be Alastor. And you knew he would never stop.

He would follow you.

[doubleddenden]

Bro. She just wanted to play fucking Neopets man. She wanted to move on with her life and start over with fucking Neopets after regaining her will to live.

Idk if those three did this of their own accord or were threatened with termination if they didn't, but still? I'd rather have been fired. With their following it'd be easy as shit to start over. Even still, Nijisanji has displayed not only unprofessional behavior, but outright toxic and harassing behavior.

Like holy fuck. Not even a little class about this whole situation.

She survived an attempted suicide caused by a toxic work environment and poor management, so you fire her.

She tries to regain her life by restarting her old channel, so you release a business statement- officially aimed at investors- and say her termination will be ***negligible*** to profits.

She opens up a store and hits a subscriber milestone of 300k before her stream back. Knowing the internet hates you right now, YOU CHOOSE TO SELL MERCH instead of properly addressing and apologizing.

ON HER FIRST. GAME STREAM. BACK. After she has gone through mental hell, knowing she is suicidal, knowing she was looking forward to playing FUCKING. NEOPETS. Just to be fucking happy again. To do something her management wouldn't let her do. You have 3 of your top talents- timed at PRECISELY THE MOMENT SHE GOES LIVE TO START A NEW CHAPTER OF HER LIFE, JUST WANTING TO MOVE ON- release a "statement" that not only seems to be basically a loosely scripted "no u" statement, but also shoots themselves in the feet by revealing SOMEONE violated the fucking LAW to open case sensitive documents to disclose certain information to them- which is illegal, because only the lawyers were supposed to know those details. During her own stream, Doki started crying and had to end after only 30 minutes to contact her lawyer, but god damn she tried her best to keep a brave face and laugh it off.

And then. And then. Anycolor CEO makes a statement of his own- you know shit is bad when the CEO makes a statement, so what does he do first? Apologize- to INVESTORS.

That is just fucking CRUEL. That is cruel, and fucking STUPID by having Elira, Vox, and Ike say that shit, because the smarter thing for those three to have done in that situation would either to LEAVE if they were truly "besties" like they kept saying like Pomu, Mika, and other talents did (or are in the process of like Kyo), or like the other talents seemingly are smart enough to do, SHUT THE FUCK UP.

I will reiterate on the off chance anyone reading this thinks about auditioning: never aply to it. Go indie or try another company. For on the even OFF-er chance you ARE part of it: leave now, go indie, try another company, or shit do like Pomu and go back to school to try something else.

This was not professionalism, this is straight up targeted harassment at this point. At this point, I hope Doki takes the company for every fucking penny they're worth. You don't get to act like you're the ones in the right after clear and OPEN harassment and bullying, let alone whatever the fuck went on behind the scenes.

I didn't even care much for Selen other than she was Mumei Hololive's real life friend, but I'm actually somehow even more furious over today than i was in my last post about Doki's situation. How can you treat a human being like this? How can you, in a professional setting, behave this way and pretend you are the good guys? I didn't care about her before, but shit, I respect her now even more for standing up to that shit.

[bandersnatchers]

I think something that always makes me cry about Astarion is just his learning what he can be like when he actually has safety and a support system. (Warning: the admittedly overly long essay has some spoilers)

Like sure in his initial dealings with you, it might look like he disapproves of good deeds if you're not choosing sassy answers.

But the man's been mentally/sexually/physically abused for 200 years and he straight up believes people can't genuinely care. All he has is his survival instinct and the knowledge of what hell is like. You beat a dog enough and all it knows is violent anger, and you meet him after he has just been given a slice of freedom from those centuries of beatings. He's terrified it's going to be taken away from him. Of course hes not going to be wanting to do things that could risk this freedom. Of course he's going to fall back on the only way he knows to barely survive - manipulation and cruelty.

But as the story goes on, if you show him you actually care, that you're genuinely nice, he learns he actually has safety with your character, stability even. This doesn't even have to be romantic, like the scene where you just back him up and say "Astarion is his own person, he makes his own choices" is a literal shock to his system. He has not had simple autonomy in over 200 years, I can't even imagine what that does to your mindset. And if you do go down the romantic route and you're actually accepting of him wanting to slow down and that you still genuinely care about him... He learns that as a survivor he's still worth love even if he doesn't provide sexual gratification. That his companionship is all you need - that he's worth it. That he's more than it.

There was definitely hints of him caring before. I mean I was sitting at high approval with him for a while, and you can definitely see through his sassiness that he is starting to care about the party. After this though, he just genuinely sees your character as someone he can depend on, and he starts approving of good actions ie) giving food to kids, letting yenna stay with you. And he approves because he's not as terrified anymore. He's not frantically clutching at resources or power or safety, because for the first time, with these companions, he doesn't need to. For the first time he sees that people can be genuinely caring and that's okay and good. He sees that maybe even he can be genuinely caring. The bond with the group grows SO much, and he finally has people he can rely on and that rely on him.

And when you get to act 2/3 (depending on where you separate the acts) and you learn what Cazador wants, you see him start to get mean and defensive again and it's because he's terrified he's going to lose everything he just recently grasped. His instinct is to power grab - what he mainly knows is that power means people can't hurt you - means you can hurt them instead. He's up against his abuser of 200 years and while yea, the group is strong and by this point you've likely done some incredible feats, 200 years of abuse makes Cazador the most terrifying monster to him. Furthermore, as you progress towards Cazador, Astarion has to witness what 200 years of his slavery has done to others, has to look them in the eye when he didn't even know they were still alive. He has to contend with what he was forced to do, what this means for others, what this means for him.

Astarion is then given such a potential boon - he can make it all go away. He can make the 7000 spawn go away. He can make Cazador go away. He can make the last 200 years go away. He can be free in the sun. He can make it so no one can ever hurt him again, forever. All he has to do is follow through with what most of his life has taught him - that cruelty and power are the only things that matter. All he has to do is kill 7000 victims (and oh how easily he can spin this to be a good thing), and all he has to do is kill his damned master (this is a good thing I will admit).

But this isn't that story. This is a story about a survivor that finally had the support and love to learn that he is more than what was done to him, and what he was forced to do. This is a story about a person who looks at exactly what terrifies him the most, and decides I will break this cycle of abuse, I will look it dead on, while with my friends, my new family, and I will stop it. This is a story about a person who learns that yes, certainly, there are cruel things in this world, horrors that haunt you, but this is a world full of love and care and he can help it. He can love and care for it, or in the very least start with his companions.

I haven't progressed much past this part yet, but thinking about it always makes me tear up. I know the story going forward could have some devastating twists, but right now I'm just excited to see what Astarion is like with this chapter over. Im very thankful Larian gave us this story of survivorship and love.

[farfromstrange]

Lizzi’s Valentine’s Special & Follower Celebration

Dear Everyone,

Valentine’s Day is just around the corner, and I thought, since this silly little blog hit over 1.1k followers yesterday, I want to give you something special.

First of all, though, I want to thank you. I’ve been on here since (and I checked with the archive) July 19, 2022. I can't believe that it has been almost two years. I started watching Daredevil after watching Spider-Man: No Way Home in December of 2021 and hearing Matt Murdock say, "I'm a really good lawyer," after catching a brick. So, I started watching the show, and that was during a time I was really miserable. Mentally and physically, I wasn't in a good place, but after watching Daredevil for the first time and falling in love with Charlie Cox as a genuine person and an actor, it felt like I found a reason to keep going.

I started writing fanfiction again, which I kind of neglected because I felt like this hobby of mine wasn't going anywhere. I wasn't inspired at all until I watched the show. If I hadn't, I probably would not have gotten back into writing and using it as an outlet for my feelings, and I probably wouldn't be where I am today. Thanks to Charlie's portrayal of Matt Murdock, and watching his interviews, I felt like I could do the things that I love again and follow my dreams. He's the reason I chose to major in English. And while I owe him that much, I owe you guys here on Tumblr and AO3 even more.

When I first posted here, I didn't think people would even be interested in what I had to say and write. But then more and more people started visiting my profile, you guys started following me, and it kept me motivated to keep writing, even when I'm miserable, and I sometimes only post once every blue moon.

I feel so honored that you guys chose to follow a silly little blog run by a silly little 20-something-year-old whose first language isn't even English (but made it her entire personality), and who chose to write about traumatized dark-haired characters portrayed by Charlie Cox. I'm overwhelmed by the love you continue to show me, and every time one of you chooses to reblog or comment on one of my works, saying that it resonated with you, I feel like I'm doing something right. I'm sharing my ideas, my own experiences, my wishes, and even my deepest, darkest dreams through my writing like it's a fucking diary, and you eat it up every single time.

I'm just so glad that this community exists, as chaotic as it sometimes is, and that you chose to stick around, even when I suck at keeping promises sometimes. You keep teaching me new things about who I am, my writing, and how important it is to put myself first. I don't know if you've heard it lately, but you guys are incredible and I appreciate the hell out of every single one of you.

Thanks to Tumblr, I made lifelong friends (especially looking at you, @blackshadowswriter) and found like-minded people that made me feel less alone. That alone was worth making this account and continuing to post on here.

You may think that I'm being dramatic, but for someone who has never really experienced the kind of validation this community gives me, I want to celebrate this milestone. It means more to me than I can even put into words. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart. I love you all so much! Please, don't ever forget how amazing you are.

That being said, I've got some exciting things planned.

The other day, I found a folder in my Docs titled "the vault". I completely forgot about it because I usually keep my WIPs in a different folder. As it turns out, I made that folder for fics that I originally never planned to post, or ones that I'd finished but wasn't happy with. It’s many, but it’s a few. Some are deeper than others. I also jotted down rough ideas and outlines last year that I stuffed in there, some of which I've actually shared with you but never started working on. Until now. And the contents of that vault are what I want to give to you now.

INTRODUCING: The Vault

6 stories from the vault. 1 bonus fic. 7 days.

I went through a myriad of emotions while I wrote these. For some, I actually bled my soul onto paper. For others, it was merely a brain fart that led to their existence. They're sad, horny, and at times angry, but some of those were originally written for me, and only me. Those that weren't started as a few sentences in a folder before I forgot they existed. Either way, I don't want them to catch dust. And I wouldn't want to share them with anyone else.

Starting February 14th, I will be posting one fic every day until February 20th. My “The Vault” works are Matt Murdock x Reader works, but I've made an exception for the bonus fic. I won't tell you what they are about, but I will give you a list of installments and what kind of fic they are so you know what to be excited about (and maybe which ones are not your cup of tea).

-> The number at the end tells you the date I will be posting it on, but I put it in chronological order as well.

INSTALLMENTS:

1. If You Need To Be Mean (angst, hurt/comfort) 14.

2. Mismatched Bridesmaid (fluff, smut) 15.

3. Weed Cookies (humor, fluff, cw: accidental drug use) 16.

4. the grudge (songfic, angst, hurt/comfort, cw: death of a parent) 17.

5. Halloween (Smut) 18.

6. I Want To Fuck A Priest (Smut, cw: priest!Matt) 19.

BONUS:

7. Now That We Don���t Talk (Part 2 of Is It Over Now?) -> Frank Castle x Reader (smut, angst) 20.

A few more words: You are free to send me an ask if you want to know more, but be prepared that I won't be answering in much detail. I don't want to spoil the fun. I would, however, not mind talking about them as vaguely as possible (if you’re interested).

Thank you all. For everything. And I hope you stick around to read these little gems.

With love from yours truly,

Lizzi <3

[maevecrom]

ACOTAR Revised

**these are my ideas, please do not use**

This may be a bit long, but stick with me, I swear it'll be worth it <3

Okay, so first and foremost, my biggest issue with this book is the lack of multiple povs - now, if any of you have read ToG, you know that multi-pov is sjm's strongsuit. So, automatically, Tamlin, Feyre, Rhys, and maybe even Nesta/Elain get povs, even while the story follows Feyre directly:

Tamlin's POV: add some foreshadowing to indicate that he abusive in some manor if that is still the route to take; like making that scene where he bit her clearly unconsensual, or demonstrating his anger/abuse towards Lucien when he questions him. Also, add a few scenes from what he was experiencing UtM - perhaps he was also abused/saed. perhaps he was forced to do things he didn't want to do. perhaps he was threatened with Feyre, Lucien, and his court's lives if he dared to try and leave her side. Demonstrate how he is slowly losing his mind watching feyre through the trials. This will help soften the common complaint amongst the readers about him remaining impasive and unresponsive.

Rhys's POV: demonstrate just how brutal his abuse was under the mountain, perhaps adding in a few chapters of a 'mystery character' in the beginning, similar to feyre's dream. Make people understand just how little hope the man had; demonstrate that none of it was consensual in any way. Show the aftermath of Amarantha's extended abuse following the kiss, not being able to stop until she deemed herself satisfied to show the severeity of her r@pings.

Nesta/Elain's POV: add a little insight into to how they think and make them actual characters. no 'evil step sister' tropes, no caracatures, just people that acted wrongly. Show that they may even feel a little remorseful for how they treated feyre, but either way this will soften the blow from the reader's perspective. Many people still hate them for what they did in the first book (rightfully) and so by sjm making them seem like they had actual personalities in the last two books it created irreparable tension amongst the community.

The angst amongst readers regarding how rhys treated feyre under the mountain needs to change. So, instead, dedicate a good 3-5 chapters of just amarantha tormenting feyre in some manner. Readers could not grasp just how much good rhys may have doing for feyre because the alternative was never shown/explained. For example, have Feyre be Amarantha's slave during the parties, cleaning up the dead faerie's bodies that were tortured. Make it like Aelin and Maeve in Kingdom of Ash. Demonstrate and acknowledge that Rhys's methods weren't good by any means, but they were far better than the alternative.

The trials also lacked thrill and intimidation, I mean.. hell, she had to answer a question for one of them? That was it?

Make her have to fight daematis trying to get into her mind while she fought to understand markings she never learned (this would also help add bonus points to rhys's character b/c not only is he helping her choose the right answer through the bond, he is helping keep her shields up).

For the last trial, have Amarantha change the rules to 'each victim needs a new, unique method of dying' under the rationale of Feyre being a huntress. She should know the most vulnerable parts of an animal. Adds tension, especially for when tamlin comes around if she had already used impaling through the chest as one of her methods. Make readers sit on the edge of their seats. Show her intelligence/will.

ACOTAR also lacked correct political developments/foundations and remained too stagnant. Make it similar to tfota. Show just how much prejudice there is against humans. This would've been really interesting to see play out in the long-run. Maybe some of the other high lords disregard her because she is a human-turned-fae. Maybe some of them spread rumors that since she didn't have the killing blow that she isn't the cursebreaker, and, therefore, unworthy of being able to step foot in their court. Or maybe even Tamlin's fears came true and Beron began hunting her. It would've added amazing tension and plot points to pair beside the war against Hybern. We could've worked through those feelings of inadequacy with Feyre, and seen her and Rhys's diplomacy skills in action (which is desperately needed, especially after getting the hint that Rhys may be High King).

And, of course, at the very end have Rhys grovel a little bit. Have him come check-up on her and apologize for what he had done. Have him apologize again in the next book. Make it so that we, as readers, understand it was not done willingly. That if there had been another way, he would've latched onto it.

[ode2rin]

we need more rin thoughts from you pretty please 🎀 mimi please 🎀 help us get through this shitty economy please 🎀

since you asked so nicely 😭

you've heard my take on orange peel theory and now i present to you... itoshi rin and the hedgehog's dilemma :D i know i have a draft about this somewhere lmao anws here it goes!

hedgehog's dilemma is abt a group of hedgehogs who want to huddle together for warmth in the winter but can't stop themselves from sticking each other with their sharp spines. it's a metaphor for people wanting intimacy but inevitably push people away :D

i just think rin has this huge dilemma.. especially before the two of you became a couple.

btw there's just no way itoshi mf rin is confessing first, i'm sorry to break it to you rinnie lovers. no matter how painfully obvious that he likes you or no matter how much teasing he gets - there's just no way so you gotta take one for the team 🙏🏻 and when you confess? it's a hundred percent probability he's going to reject you and pushes you away. yup. tough life i know.

but it's not because he doesn't like you back. how can anyone not tell he likes you? he does a POOR job in hiding it, he thinks he's so slick and nonchalant but man is literally brooding next to you most of the time, scaring other people who shows the slightest hint of hitting on you. he knows your orders by heart, the type to walk to the waiter and say "they said NO pickles". offers you the first bite of his food. and not only does he know the sidewalk rule, but mf puts his hands in table and counter corners instinctively when you crouch down. even unconsciously leaving the space next to him for you to sit during group lunch breaks, and the twitch of his mouth when you sit beside him? a goner for you, really. bachira even told him he looks "mellow" when you're around (wc btw earned a lot of snickers in disbelief because itoshi rin??? mellow???? like, do we know the same person babe?)

i'm a firm believer that rin is a "fell first ➔ ignore it, it will pass it's just a stupid crush what am i?? 10?? ➔ SHIT i can't fucking ignore it *panics* ➔ then fell even harder (but denies it still)" type. when rin realized he likes you, he lets out a laugh in utter disbelief. like he just Laughed on his own... followed by an abundance of curse words... then his mind went blank for a minute then fear and self-doubt crept in.

for someone who has an ego as massive as the ocean, self-sabotage goes crazyyyy in that man's head i swear to god especially when it concerns you. you, ever so bright and pretty, you, who for some reason chose to look at him. rin will probably think at some point that you must be incredibly stupid to choose to like someone like him. actually, what the hell were you thinking. he was supposed to hide these shitty feelings until it leaves him and now you're saying you like him too!! what the hell is going to do now? push you away, that is.

but don't worry :3 just a tiny push, some missing you hours, and maybe some sprinkles of jealousy will make him come banging on your door and taking the rejection back 👍🏻

so yeah. getting together with rin is gonna be such a long ride because of his personal issues but god, does he make it so worth it when you're finally together.

[imaginefan]

The User

Damon Salvatore X Fem!REader

Word Count: 1064

Requested: Anon

Request: Damon is using you to make Elena jealous. You don't believe it at first until you overhear an argument between Elena and Damon. (Elena is still confused between Stefan and Damon) but knows she has feelings for both of them. Reader is cold toward Damon he doesn't care at first but wanted to know why she's being distant, the two argue he doesn't bother but then weeks go by Damon realizes he misses reader and how he messed up cause she really did care for him. One shot gf

You had been with Damon for a couple of months when people started to warn you that he might be using you but you had been together 7 months when he finally gave you the evidence you were so severely hoping didn't exist. The truth was you loved Damon and you wanted to believe that he was in love with you but truth be told you knew that it was unlikely after everything that he said to and about Elena it was clear that he was using you to make her jealous and persuade her to choose him. The evidence however came from you walking into the boat house when they were arguing.

"Damon you can't do that! I'm with Stefan and you are with (Y/N)." Elena said you couldn't see them but was sure that they were probably standing too close for comfort and you couldn't bring yourself to actually look at them. "She won't know, I mean it's not like it's actually serious." He answered, you could hear the smirk in his voice, you almost thought he knew that you were there because surely he could hear your heartbeat. "Damon, stop!" Elena ordered. "I'm not going to kiss you and everything that you are doing is not making me want to be with you," Elena argued, you heard the sound of stumbling and you were sure that she had pushed him away. "You can't tell me that Stefan is better than me," Damon said, you blinked as you tried to stop yourself from crying. Why did you love him so much if he couldn't love you? "Damon no," Elena said firmly, she continued talking but someone touched your shoulder gently, you jumped before looking over at them to see Stefan was standing there, he took your hand pulling you out of the house, and you looked back at the door for a second before following him willingly. "What about Elena?" You asked and he looked at the house for a second before shaking his head. "She doesn't need saving." He said, stopping you from looking through the window behind you and instead directing you back home.

Over the next couple of days, Damon attempted to get in contact with you, you assumed to end the relationship but you never picked up the phone or showed up for meetings. He had no idea that you had heard the argument that day, he hadn't bothered to check his surroundings when he saw Elena he focused solely on her. That was why he was so confused when he walked into your room. You were on your bed reading, your phone was placed face down on your bed, and you'd been ignoring him. "What the hell is your problem?" Damon asked. "Do you really care?" You asked. "What?" He asked. "It's not like it's actually serious or anything." You quoted his words back at him and he frowned. "You were there?" He asked, realising that this had all started after his argument with Elena. "Do you think this was going to make me stay, make me realise that I loved you?" "No this was going to make you realise that we aren't together anymore and you are not a part of your life." You answered. "I'm not wasting any more time on you." "Don't be-" "Petty? I wasted a lot of time on you, wasted a lot of love, I'll admit that I love you and it's worth nothing to you and a burden to me." You explained as you looked at the man and rolled your eyes looking back at your book, in record time he was across the room, he grabbed you by the chin and threw your book across the room in the process and made you look at him. "You expect me to be afraid of you but you broke me and honestly anything you do now validates my choice to walk away from you." "I don't need you." He growled out and you rolled your eyes. "I know, that's why you're here." You pulled yourself away from him, he looked at you for a second before leaving and you walked over to the other side of the room getting your book and continuing with your quiet day as if nothing had happened.

It was over the next couple of days that Damon realised just what he was missing with you not around, he missed when he'd come back from a fight of any kind and you clean the wounds even though you knew that they were going to heal, how you'd cook him food even if he didn't have to eat, you'd never complain when he got clingy, you accepted everything that he said to you and knew when he was joking vs when he was being an asshole. There was something missing from his life and he was starting to see how you were probably the first and last chance he had at fixing it.

Damon watched as you looked over Jeremy's injuries and helped him wrap his arms, you were laughing at something he said before standing up and walking over to Bonnie to help her "you're an idiot for messing that up." Stefan said as he stood next to his brother. "I didn't mess anything up, there was nothing there in the first place," Damon answered, Stefan looked at you as you gently cleaned Bonnie's head and put a dressing over the small cut. "You keep telling yourself that but the longer you wait the harder it'll be to fix it." Stefan answered, "you have to figure out who you really want and what it means to have them." "Yeah yeah, baby brother, ever the romantic," Damon muttered, “what about you and Elena then?” “You're right you ruined that too,” Stefan answered sarcasm coating his tone as he tapped him on the shoulder and walked away, Damon glared as he walked over to get a drink but he did find himself looking at you again. "Anyone need medical attention?" You asked, everyone else gave you some kind of verbal decline but he wanted to pull you away from everyone else and have you look him over like you had many times before but instead, you didn't spare him a glance in favour of leaving for the night saying you had a shift to cover at The Grill.

*Part 2*

Requests and general question!

[justsalpals]

https://www.tumblr.com/justsalpals/751271185799675904/hes-an-afterthought-one-by-one-they-are-brought?source=share

ooh, rubbing my little hands together. I didn't think anyone was actually gonna go for this. hell yeah. guessing you just mean the whole post?

So! If I'm recalling correctly, this was written immediately after the finale. Post-episode is when I've always had the most luck getting eyes on a post, so I was in a bit of a hurry to get something out while there were still eyes in the tag. I knew going into the episode that Jace was nearly certainly gonna die and was looking forward to getting a good short angst piece out about it. Because that's how I roll.

The main inspiration was, pretty obviously, how we have no fucking clue what happened to Jace. He was being arrested, but then pushed into the lava? But the death was quick and jokey enough it could be argued to be a non-canon aside. But then again, shortly after all the shatter starred people were brought back to life! Does that include Jace? Why wouldn't it? The Bad Kids straight up do not know enough about this man to judge whether he was irredeemable and genuinely into it or just a brainwashed pawn. (The real answer, of course, is somewhere between.)

One thing is for sure: they don't talk about him ever again. Which I choose to interpret as them just fucking forgetting about him. (To be clear, I find this very funny. And in character for a bunch of teens who just saved the world again. They don't have bandwidth to think through every little person who's gonna be resurrected, okay?!) So, gods left to their own devices were told to bring back everyone who'd been shatter starred. I certainly don't see why Jace would be excluded.

But he is forgotten. His death was tacked onto the end, a joke to wrap up loose ends. And his resurrection is just as careless.

He is an afterthought.

Ooh nice one, Arson. Punchy! Depressing! This is our starting point, the tone setter. We're taking this and running with it.

Jace is brought back to life, and just. Left to his own devices. Not worth the effort. Yeah you helped try to kill a god and force the entire town to become an unwilling divine domain, but we legitimately do not care about you enough to even follow up. He's not a threat. He's not even enough of an annoyance to swing by and heckle with some jeering one liners. He's not worth it.

He's alone. Unmoored. Directionless. For the first time since Porter raised him from the dead, he can't feel that otherworldly anger that drove him.

His chest aches.

Was he not angry anymore? He should probably be angry, right? That's how villains feel after their plans are foiled, yeah? And I do believe that even before being brought back Wrong, Jace had a lot of anger he buried far down as he could. The shatter star didn't invent the anger, just stoked what was there already.

But that anger was the only thing keeping him upright for months. He wants to be angry now, wants to still have that drive and purpose, but he's so damn burnt out.

So where does he go from here? He's probably lost his job, and gets the feeling if he goes to check he'll just remind people of his existence and get thrown in jail after all. What's left? Jace being directionless is something I love to play with, and he's had all that direction and devotion ripped from his chest. What's there to do but grasp at ghosts?

So he goes to the gym. Probably doesn't even know why, just knows it was the last place he saw Porter.

Hey Arson, why the hell does he make a bunch of clones of himself?? That makes no sense. BECAUSE ITS A COOL VISUAL OKAY. The emptiness of the gym is Too Much. Summoning a crowd of yourself, but their eyes judge harsher than any outsider ever would.

He's lost in himself, and after so long he can't even figure out what it is he's feeling. He can't comprehend that he just misses Porter. And what way is there to speak with the man who would be god than to pray?

But Porter's not here anymore. Jace, alone forgotten directionless, has to figure it out on his own.

[riewritten]

IN ANY WAY YOU COULD

ERWIN X FEM!READER, ERWIN X YOU, NO Y/N

SUMMARY: He swore to be gentle, to say the least. He even intended to apologize upon noticing how hard he's going, but then a proud smile was plastered instead. That's his doing, after all, for dreary years worth of adoring you from afar. | AO3

WORDS: 4.2k

TAGS AND WARNINGS: explicit sexual content. read at your own risk. porn without plot, porn with feelings, canon world, oral sex, masturbating (slight), overstimulation, squirting, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, teasing, multiple positions

"Should we really be doing this right now?" he gave you another chance to cower as he pinned you at the door—as if he's still in the headspace to let you out of this room, as if you didn't notice how his tone urges for your affirmation.

"Do you want to stop?" you murmured with pleading eyes as indeed, any hint of hesitance from you would subject this occurrence back to square one.

Fingers gliding on your cheeks gently, breath lingering on your face, and eyes speaking utter endearment, "Could you hear how desperate you sounded with that, sweetie?"

"Am I the only one?" you gave him a slight glare, with which he responded with a chuckling one as he engulfed you in a warm kiss. He bit on it, ran his tongue over, and there you were certain you'd garner a bruise along the way. He placed a thigh in between your legs that you could rub yourself on and took complete pleasure with the small gasps and moans you let out for him, even though he knew some of it was because of how hard he was going.

You don't expect Erwin to be as soft and no—you really don't want him soft on you right now. You love this side of him just the same. This hell of a man could take all of you for his own, as he should, and you'd still be at ease nonetheless because you know he'd keep you safe as he takes you. He might be dangerous and merciless to everyone standing on this ground but you are safe right now in his embrace, utterly so.

He sucked on your bottom lip harshly for the last time then pulled away. He didn't talk just yet—even the proximity was still too heated to handle—lips barely touching and both of you breathing in each other's air. He's supposed to apologize upon noticing how flushed your lips became—nearing swollen, even—after the heated kiss, but he let out a small smirk instead. That's his doing, for dreary years worth of adoring you from afar.

"What would you like your desperate woman to do?" 

Oh, so now you're asking him.

His smirk widened. It's not like he doesn't want it but he actually thought of giving you the privilege to choose what'd happen tonight. But well, if this is how you like it, "Kneel down for me."

You immediately followed through, then. Who wouldn't, when he let out such a low and sultry command that had your knees move on its own?

Facing him down below, you realized how hard it was struggling to be out of its confines. That must be painful. You looked up at him submissively, silently asking for the next order, a little consolement of what you've done to him.

He honestly prefers to show you how cherished you are more than himself but if you really want to be so adorable below him then you could be his guest.

"See what you're doing to me?" he caressed your head, the longer your stare lingers the harder his grip gets, "Come on, take it then." then pulled your face nearer to his protuberance.

You did—quite impatiently even—and you gulped upon having it bare. He cut your thoughts off by pulling your hair a bit so you'd look at him again. He wasn't smiling anymore, only his lidded eyes anticipating your next move, "Scared now? Thinking of storming out the door behind you?" you shook your head no. He caressed your head fondly, satisfied, then guided your head until he entered your mouth.

The gesture transcended the reluctance. You wrapped your hands around his shaft and took a taste of him with a swirl of your tongue. He closed his eyes with a hum. He gripped your head harder and you hollowed your cheeks, eager to feel and exude more reactions from the man. Despite the oddity of the feeling as well as the taste, the way he was holding you and his pleased sighs became your utmost focus and source of pleasure.

What Erwin saw upon opening his eyes again pulled out another smile—eyes glued on him endearingly wide, mouth tightening around his length, drip of saliva on your mouth. You have no idea how beautiful you look right now.

However, he also didn't miss what you're trying to do between your legs. A hand in between, moving it slightly and grinding it on your clothed core.

He pulled on your hair a bit tighter, "Hands on me. I'll give you everything later on."

You quickly fixed it with a chuckle, wrapped a whole hand fully on his length. There, he realized you actually have no idea how to work on it thus you're seeking his approval for every move. He let out a strained laugh and then guided you through it. He adjusted your fingers and even instructed you to move some of it yourself, albeit with difficulty because of how delirious his mind is starting to get. All fixed, he gripped your head again to bob it down. You hummed, received it with pleasure, and he let out another sigh. 

"Raise your face a bit," he looked at you for a second to signal the change in pace then pressed back in. You gagged upon having it reach your throat and so he halted, "Can you take it?" a gentle inquiry. Your insides flipped then; you had no idea how he manages to be so smooth with his shift of demeanor.

Erwin gave you a slight breather then repeated the action, again and again and again. He motioned your head in tandem with his hips and the way you realized how hard he was using your mouth ignited a hot spark between your legs. It's contrary for Erwin, though, as his mind is imploring; never in his life he thought he would beg and he's quite glad you're too busy to realize that. 

When he halted again, tears were already flushed from your eyes, lips slick and swollen. There he goes again, his gentle face shifting towards mocking, "You're pretty good at this, darling. How was it, hm? How's your first dick?" You wanted to laugh as well. If only this man knows what lengths you're willing to take to have that smile stay on his face. He seems to be purely amused, too. That, along with the pressure of his hand on your head, made you realize that perhaps you could get by this alone.

But for now, you want to feel more of him, have him move your head until he chases his high out in your mouth. So despite your numbing throat you managed to reply, "You'll give me more, right?"

His sneer widened. Want more of him? Then take his entirety. You want it that hard? Then hard he would go.

He raised your head up, much to your confusion, and when your faces were on the same level again he engulfed you with a deep kiss. As harsh as earlier but more smiles exuded from him. He wrapped his palm around your neck, pushed down his tongue in your mouth and had you collect his spit with ease. The grip on your jaw is intended to avoid you from swallowing it down. He withdrew after a while; your cheeks are almost plump, some of it dripping down the corner.

"Down again. Don't swallow." 

As soon as you got down, he savored your partly opened lips without warning. The slick of saliva made him hum. He could pump in with ease this time, sloppier, much better, and you kept on hollowing your cheeks to take more. He wasn't able to control himself then. He repeated faster and faster as he looked down at you. Tremors on his hands build up as he's stopping himself from gripping your hair out of pleasure.

"I'm close," and yet he didn’t push you away. He rather dug you down on him harder. He spoke small praises—so good for him, so sweet, and he's going to reward you well by coming inside your mouth. 

And oh, how utterly delighted you are with that.

You don't even care how hard he’s bucking his hips, your numbed throat, your tears streaming down. Nothing is going on in your mind until he sputters his release with a grunt. He didn't let go of your mouth as he came. Rather, he gagged you deep so you'd be forced to take more and more of his warmth inside you. Even when his hips were finally stilled he continued to trap you deeply, completely ensuring everything would be all yours. 

Only when he's sure nothing's left did he free you from his confines. He hiked your head up and helped you stand properly by placing his hip between your legs.

"Let it drip down your mouth," he quickly remarked as he cupped your face up to his level. Erwin smiled at the sight, "Look at that. Look how messed up you are." drawn, eyes gleaming bright as if he had seen something he's been curious about for so long. He focused on wiping his essence languidly.

It was until you swallowed and clicked a satisfied smile that he came back from it.

He swore to any divine being that he'd be gentle tonight and he needs help in doing so, but your mouth's plump, your jaw is tight, eyes welled up. You're almost ruined. It's only the start of the night but you're nearing ruins. That's why the next kiss was gentle, rewarding, to say the least; and you wrapped your arms around his neck as if to say that if he wants to taste you so bad after doing something so dirty then he could be your guest.

You led him to the bed and gave him space so he could settle. Erwin was silent as he watched you remove your clothes and there you could see a glimpse of affection in his eyes. You wrapped your arm around him again after, sweetly landed a kiss on the bridge of his nose, then helped him remove his own.

You observed the intricacies of his features as soon as he laid bare completely—the scars you could see from the battle both of you partake in, his vulnerability as you caressed it, a poignant smile on your face. It must be the time the Commander gets insecure and backtracks, but he did the opposite instead. He pulled you slightly towards him and peppered your collarbone down your chest with wet kisses. 

"See, I'm actually trying to be gentle right now." he cupped your face down your jaw that's still quite numb and swollen, he massaged it then, "It wouldn't hurt us if you cooperate, would it?" 

"Take me in any way you could. You could ruin me and I'd thank you nonetheless." then you had him lean against the headboard, "I'm all for making things easier for you, you know?"

"You don't know what you're asking right now." 

As if you heard nothing, you lined him up to your entrance and swallowed him in your warmth with a moan. His eyes widened. He didn't see that coming at all. Since when have you got the guts to disregard his words?

You were quickly put in your place, though. You realized you needed more preparation for that. You knew it’d hurt, of course, but you didn’t anticipate it to be this painful.

When he realized how pained you are with that, he almost sneered, "Got what you wanted, huh?"

"No, I can—shit it hurts—make it fit," you muttered on the verge of crying.

Now you just hurt yourself, it annoyed him a bit. He doesn't plan on hurting you tonight. He helped you out by working on your clit, "You're a complete brat. Look where it got you."

You grind on his fingers, "'m sorry. I thought so highly of myself." then sobbed. He almost laughed out loud.

Please, don't let him completely lose his cool. He waited so long for this.

The pain in your face slowly subsided and after some sighs, you decided to move a bit. You were still whimpering so Erwin didn't move yet.

"It feels good." you mewled as you hugged him and glued your lips on his ears. You repeated the remark, and that was the cue for him to go faster. Indeed, you were able to take him properly this time.

"Look how eager you are," he stuttered raspily as he gathered the rhythm. "—swirling your hips like that."

"—for you." You interjected. "Only for you. Please."

"Yeah?" he can’t believe how aroused he gets whenever you say that, "How many times do you plan to reiterate that?"

"Until you," you bounced down harder. Both of you moaned, "until you can't push me away anymore."

It hit him hard, then. That's why you were so eager to take him. What just happened tonight was the first time he let you melt under him so willingly without a hard snap into reality. You're intentionally pushing on his buttons so he'd be out of all of his restraints.

Guilt crept up his spine. He did you badly, really.

"I'm not pushing you away." Erwin fondly remarked as his hold tightened more. His continuous lurches are frenzied now, "I'm having you take me, see? Take all of me for your own."

You moaned unabashedly and he can't help but look down as you have him disappear inside you. You almost winced at how hard he was gripping but your laugh resonated more, "You're as eager as I am if not more, Commander."

"Just what my pretty girl deserves," he raspily replied.

"Come on, then," you punctuated your satisfaction by changing the tempo of your hips. You could hear a slight hitch from his breath. "I d-deserve more for giving me countless orders."

He let out a laugh, "So much for looking at me like a little puppy waiting for my orders on your knees," as if to prove a point, his tone suddenly became serious, "open your mouth, tongue out." you clenched unintentionally at the tone then. As soon as you followed, he sucked on it and kissed you fervently again. "What's with that, then? Pray to tell, gorgeous." Erwin chuckled in between the kisses, "You're clenching hard on me like a good girl."

The lack of an answer just pushed him to tease you further hence he ordered with a mischievous smile, "Stop," and he knew better than to think that you could, so he held on to your thigh, "You don't like being ordered, hm?" 

"I don't."

"Where is this attitude coming from?" he curiously inquired, "You think I wouldn't be able to cum by myself? I could do that with ease while watching you desperate for me, you know? Wanna see how that goes?" You genuinely thought he wouldn't but now he seems wholly amused to not let his point be established. "Answer me, love. Where is the attitude coming from?" he softly taunted.

Oh well, you're just kidding around after all. "Sorry, Commander."

"You are?" he clarified, amused, and you nodded with a slight glare at him messing around. "Get off me, then." he instructed, you whined. He gestured one of your hands in your folds, the other one on your chest, "Convince me that you deserve to be forgiven."

You looked at him pleadingly but he only responded with a soft smile. He looked so good in that so you decided to follow suit—rubbed, curled a finger inside, intentionally opened up from time to time so he'd see how bad of a dripping mess you are.

When he started to palm himself up at the sight, however, you released a whimper, "No, wait! Stop that!" he curled his eyebrows at you then, about to scold until you bargained, "Cum inside me. I'll put on a show for you as long as you want but you'll cum inside me." Surprise plastered on his features. Who the fuck wouldn't? That's the cue for you, though. You dived into his hold again and quickly lined up. He would've pushed you away to tease further, of course, so you cut his thoughts off by riling him up as you took him again. "All of it goes inside, please?"

That's it. Playing around is over now.

To hell if you end up knocked out. He can't be gentle with you when you beg him like that. You know what you're doing.

He swatted you away from his grasp, held on to your wrist, and laid you down below him. He landed a wet and messy kiss yet again and when he shoved his shaft inside you without warning, you let out a broken sob that he swallowed down without a single care. He lost his rhythm then. His gut tightened; the way you're arching your back had him aware that your release is hanging on the precipice just the same. He sat up on his knees as he continued jolting, watching you bounce up and down as he rearranged your insides.

When the pace became beyond satisfactory for him, he placed his hand on your abdomen and pressed on it. You let out a sudden gasp, "W-wait, Erwin, it feels too much–"

"You want to stop now? Hm?" he cooed—already out of it, completely out to even take cues on your pleas, "You asked for it, darling. I have been so gentle with you."

"'N-no, don't stop," your breath hitched, "'m sorry, hah—"

"I won't, I won't." he nuzzled his lips on yours, "Come on, with me. I'll paint your walls white like you asked. You want that, don't you?"

With a cry and faint yes, your mind dissolved in pleasure and orgasm rippled. Your walls spasmed and it didn't take too long for him to acquiesce to your needs. Coil snapped inside Erwin and he emptied himself inside you with a grunt. Your hips shuddered as you milked him dry. He quickly pulled himself out of you but despite mewls and your fluttering eyes towards unconsciousness, you still delved a hand in between your legs to collect the dollops of cum back inside you. "Don't come out," you whispered and slightly jerked your hips, “Go back inside.”

The sight almost immediately brought him back from his high. He did you a favor then. Erwin slid his two fingers inside to have it back deeply, "We have all night to do this. Don't need to worry about wasting."

You pretty much don't know what happened next. You were sure you drifted away for a while, if not hours (you hope it wasn't), but awakened at Erwin peppering you with kisses. When you opened your eyes barely, he gave you a smile.

Why does he keep on smiling sweetly tonight?

"Open your legs wider."

You followed suit. "W-we're still going?"

"Fold it to your chest."

"Do you still have—" 

He cut you off with one quick thrust that had you yelping. He didn't even need to ask if you could take it, your mixed-up fluids did the job of making the pace sloppier.

"You told me—" he cut himself off with a snap of his hips, "—to take you in any way I could." then released a sneer, completely delighted at the sight of you being a wordless mess beneath him. "You should've wished for something—ah, fuck, you're tight—you could take, you know?"

"N-no, I'm taking it quite well." you haven't even come down from the shock yet, "I wouldn't mind if you'd—" but he cut you off with another thrust. You made an attempt to talk again but he repeated the action.

He's successful, completely so. Your coherence left you for good and totally enclosed you with a mere moaning mess. You’re ruined for good. You used to be well-versed with your words, Erwin thought as he continued pounding you senseless. He's always been so impressed with your capabilities. How prideful the Commander could be with that? He's messing you up, finally messing you up and no one could. Just how was he able to hold back this long? What led his patience to run this dry?

"Erwin, too fast, I might—" you tried to sit up. You don't want him to stop, but still.

"Stay still," he sternly said and you followed quickly. He almost smiled a little too wide, "Good girl. That's it. Lay down and take more." and trapped you by resting his hand just beside your head. He used it as his support.

Only when you felt your high teetering did you yelp, "God, wait! I might let out too much!" Of course, silly you, it was too late. He felt it again, you tightened so bad and shockwaves gripped your body. What completely took him was when you spurted all over his lower stomach. Your limbs shook for a while and you were too shocked to even mind the mess that you just made. Your orgasm stained his sheets. He froze. It took him quite a while to process that, completely wide-eyed and mouth almost gaping. That felt utterly good.

After clicking another smile, he continued languidly and endearingly rested his palm on your cheeks as if to gently coo and reward you for doing that, "You must love me so much to let me do and see all this, hm?" but his grip on it was completely contrary. He went faster again. He clung to you just so he could rut deeper and deeper.

Still, you nodded and attempted to answer, "I love—hah, wait, too much—"

"You love what?" he snickered as he gritted his teeth. Erwin's too spent already and his mind is in shambles. He barely heard you, even. He could only comprehend remnants of your phrases.

"You!" you choked on your breath, "I love you. 'm sorry. I should've said s-sooner."

He's taking it back. You're the one who's best at words.

He was lost for good then, completely debauched that he can’t even tease you anymore. The sound of slapping skin isn't enough, your whimpers aren't enough, and even the sensation isn't enough. The way he gulped down his greed exuded some sort of pity for you but he can't let it go now. You're so good. He lived his life very reluctant to lay his hands on you. Such divinity yet you deliberately let him do this—blurted out how you love him with ease, looked at him full of endearment as if he's not giving you a hard time.

And you're crying now, not sure if it's because you finally said it or the overstimulation. You figured it might be both. You finally did, oh god, you did. The look on Erwin's face—full of adoration, completely gratified, sincerely delighted to finally have and hear something that was deprived of him for so long. It's as if that was the greatest thing he had ever heard in his dreary life.

"'m sorry," he finally muttered as he kissed the tears away, "can't stop, need it. Just take more, just a few more."

He followed suit, then. Gave you all of him, spilled himself inside. He was letting out so much that he couldn't help but utter a long moan. He engulfed you with a kiss again in hopes of lowering his voice.

He realized your small sobs so he whispered sweetly, "I'll just make sure it won't drip, yeah? You’re being so good for me.” so you let him, not like you have any other choice. You want all of it and he's gripping your thigh hardly; he will not let you move until he's finished. At this point, your mind was shattered and can't even flutter your eyes open. Your body's totally limped.

As the waves ebb for him, he heaved a gentle laugh at a realization, "Look at that, I might've broken you, darling." He showered your almost unconscious figure with kisses, “I'm sorry. I went a little too much, didn't I?” and then ended with a nuzzle on your forehead.

"You can have more after I rest," you tried to say but you’re too disheveled to be coherent. What Erwin heard instead was “—more.”

He curled his eyebrows then cupped your cheeks, “More? Now?" both in endearment and mockery if that's even possible, "With that look on your face? You're too dumbed out to take more."

He actually doesn't mind, but seeing you so worn out like this? He indeed gets a little too greedy at times but he wouldn't let that go over his want to take care of you—okay, no. He can't lie to himself. He’d take more of you later on but he'll spend time massaging your sore muscles for now.

He's sure you couldn't hear him by now. You completely blacked out with his seed dripping out a bit even though he made sure it'd stay inside. You look in complete peace, though—breathing is steady, eyes shut tight, and face relaxed—very much contrary to what just happened. The sight swelled his heart yet again.

And you just told him you love him.

As much as the devil in him likes to backtrack for how undeserving he is, you transcended the voices with so much ease.

[cerastes]

Wait if Mizuki is a Seaborn then what’s stopping our local resident Hunters from choosing and tearing him into pieces. I mean yeah he’s a baby boy but I doubt Skadi would really care that much to be honest. A Seaborn is still a Seaborn right?

Would she not care? I think you picked the Abyssal Hunter that would in fact care the most, as she's had the most hands on experience on the surface compared to Gladiia, who's mostly stuck to working by herself and on the shadows, and Laurentina, who spent a considerable amount of time being insane and half-brainwashed as Specter and not cognizant enough about her surroundings to truly consider as someone who knows the surface. Keep in mind, and important part of Under Tides is showing that Skadi, rough and stoic as she is, ultimately has changed immensely from how she used to be as an Abyssal Hunter, questioning her role, her worth, and the worth of those around her. Her interactions with Old Man Jose paint a clear picture of how Skadi used to be pretty much a cold fighting machine who just did her job and little else, and how she gradually came to see surface Terrans not just as inferior lifeforms with paltry technology, but as fascinating, lovable people that had struggles just as meaningful and terrifying as her own Aegir people did.

Compared to Gladiia and Laurentina, who have rather negative views of the surface and who have no qualms in voicing these views, Skadi is stoic but ultimately gentle and intentionally holds back when fighting because she knows inherently superior compared to the vast majority of Terrans as far as physical ability and martial prowess are concerned, with her only really fighting seriously twice so far: Against the Great Inquisitor (and even then, she refrained from using a weapon), and against Seaborns, where she (and her fellow Hunters) held nothing back and showed us what they actually can do when they take a fight seriously (read: Specter going full Metal Gear Revengeance ME JACKY on the mutated Bishop and hitting it with an air combo that had her jumping from wall to crumbling boulder mid air for like a full 3 minutes of maneuvering and mauling this giant laser-shooting monster). Hell, on Specter's 2nd Operator Record, it's Skadi that more or less demands Gladiia and Specter both hold back a bit on account of them going to go fight regular ass non-supersoldier non-Seaborns for a bit.

Now, back to the Mizuki case, I have no doubts that the moment she detected Mizuki's presence, Gladiia's senses told her to send him to the principal's office and have him expelled from existence, BUT Consider The Following:

Rhodes Island is not a melting pot of cultures and factions, it's THE melting pot of cultures and factions. You have Silence and Saria in the same side, with Silence hating Saria's guts. You have the entirety of Pinus Sylvestris, Gravel, Blemishine, Whislash, Nearl, Shining and Nightingale in the same room as Platinum who, by all means, all want to eviscerate to different degrees. Their situations is a bit different, but you have SilverAsh and Pramanix who are by all means political enemies, under the same roof, hell, you have Greythroat who is absolutely terrified of the Infected, working as a Rhodes Island employee, you have Actual Enemies Texas and Lappland working the trading post together, you have Rosmontis, Blaze, and other Elite Operators in the same room as W, who they explicitly want to kill. And, I think the most important example out of all of these: You have Doctor in Rhodes Island, who Kal'tsit, Flamebringer, and W (and possibly Ascalon alongside other Sarkazians) explicitly want to murder, but won't because of Doc's own particular, exceptional situation, as well as them being an undeniably powerful asset.

What I'm trying to say is that Rhodes Island is exactly the kind of environment in which Abyssal Hunters wouldn't obliterate a Seaborn if they have a properly signed contract for the same reason a lot of these other factions are not at each other's throats. It's also well known that the Abyssal Hunters do personally like the Doctor (with Skadi being very sweet on them, Laurentina being more than anything thankful they watched over her when she was Specter and wanting to know them better, and Gladiia appreciating Doctor both as someone who watched over her subordinate Laurentina in her time of need as well as a fellow tactical mastermind), and in the case of Laurentina and Gladiia specifically, they like and respect Kal'tsit (Skadi doesn't like Kal all that much but clearly still respects her), with Laurentina specifically even joking around with Kal'tsit as if they were pals instead of seeing her as an inferior land-dweller. It makes a lot of sense, then, that if Doctor and Kal'tsit both approve Mizuki for whatever reason to be an Operator for Rhodes Island, that the professional Gladiia would accept this decision, with caution, but accept it nonetheless, and that would carry on to Skadi and Laurentina both, with Skadi likely not wanting to cause a ruckus anyways, and Laurentina feeling much the same the way.

[hashtag-xolo]

Might be a bit of a broad question, but what do you like most about Xolos? What made you choose them as Your Breed? Xolo propaganda please 🤲🤲

Xolos are just really cool dogs. They're ridiculously smart but their version of intelligence looks pretty different from what most people think of. They are pattern seekers. They will find the pattern even you weren't aware of. They will then adhere to that pattern and do their best to make that pattern as efficient as possible. For instance, when Tzapo was first taught was training was he firmly believed that he could hack the system by staring me dead in the eye and offering rapid fire sits that I didn't ask for. "I sat twenty times where's my treats, bitch?" It was so fucking funny and also like... A totally correct and valid conclusion based upon what he knew so far. I realized he would try to predict my next moves based upon repetitive training sessions and skip steps to get to the end after two reps because he knew what the end point was already. After one visit to a new location he would assume we would do the same things again and he would try to replicate that on our next visits. Boy just had this brain for patterns and routine that was ridiculous. And it makes sense - his breed doesn't care about partnering as much as a breed can care. His breed cares about survival skills and not expending extra energy so he looked for the patterns to exploit them. He would intuitively follow our exact path back on a trail by scent - I never taught him this. He just did it because we'll obviously we go back the way we came. And he was also so obviously befuddled if I changed our route on the way back because why would I do something nonsensical like that? We are going back??? I dunno man, their problem solving is just way different than any other dogs I've worked with. They just look at the world in a way that's different than a lab or a shepherd.

Honestly they're closer to terriers which is why I want a terrier too. They're very prey-driven and very independent dogs. They don't need me. And I respect the hell out of that. If my xolo is working with me it's because I made the work worth it to them over the absolutely tantalizing squirrel over there. Which is saying a lot because even Tzpao wanted nothing more than to eat a squirrel. They're intensely prey-driven. And they have a lot of energy. They play hard. They play really loudly and really physically. They love to run so much. Both Tzpao and Nico love the sheer act of running. Tzapo always wanted me to run with him it was adorable. Just to run and to go.

But once they're done doing their own thing they also really really want to be with their person. They're aloof with strangers but their person is their person. They adore you if they have picked you and it's not even separation anxiety. They just would rather be with you than any other person or thing. Like Nico isn't anxious about being away from me now. But his world isn't perfect if I'm not there. I need to share his world with him. Both Nico and Tzpao offered eye contact and check ins outside from the get go because they want to ensure I'm coming along for the experience with them. And once they see I'm there they both like, pick up the pace like "oh yay! We're together! Let's go!" And it's just such an endearing enthusiasm of "it's just you and me and this is perfect" that melts my heart. We're buddies we belong together. They're just so sweet. And they won't share that with anyone else. They'll be friendly sure but no one else gets the same level of affection as their special person. I dunno it's just so sweet.

They're wild and so so sweet and so ridiculously silly as a breed. They do weird shit and find novel solutions to things and they keep you on your toes as a trainer because they will break your system because they're looking for the system. And I love it.

[lovesosweeet]

better left unsaid // cth

chapter thirty three

in which orion has leukemia, and calum doesn’t know.

calum hood x fem!oc

read other chapter

october 12, 2018 los angeles, califonia calum

“What’s been the biggest shift in making this record versus the previous one?” Yet another interviewer asks us the same question it feels like we’ve answered a million times.

“Y’know, we’ve all grown a lot in our personal lives over the past few years,” Ashton says, and Michael and Luke nod along.

“For sure, I mean,” Michael pauses to laugh. “We’ve all fallen in love, some of these guys have gone through some heartbreak, but overall, we’re just a lot more grown up.”

Some heartbreak. Minimizing what I’m going through right now to those two words is almost a lie because of how inaccurate it is. Orion is worth far more than two words, and I know that everyone in this room would agree given the chance. \

“I’d say everything is almost the same, actually,” Ashton adds on. “Like we said, we’ve grown a lot, but our writing and recording is a similar process.”

“But, y’know, we’ve added a lot of fresh elements to this record, like with the keyboard. We’ve tried to take on a hint of an electronic sound, too,” Luke says. 

“Yeah, so we haven’t actually changed anything, but just with the way life works and how we naturally progress as artists, the final product is so different, but the process isn’t.” Ashton finally wraps up the answer, and the interviewer seems quite happy with it. 

“It’s nice to watch how both you and your music evolve over the years. You guys have been together for seven years now, and some of you have been friends for far longer. Do you find that your constant growth impacts your relationships with each other? Are you ever outgrowing one another and having to play catch up? How’s that dynamic?”

My mouth chooses to speak before I do. “Well, Johnny,” I say. I have no idea how I managed to remember that this man’s name is Johnny, but judging by his unphased expression, I think I got it right. “We outgrow each other when certain people withhold certain vital information from other people and let things blow up in their faces when they could’ve prevented it.”

Luke laughs loudly and awkwardly at my comment, nervously looking at each of our faces. “Calum’s such a jokester, aren’t you Cal?” He asks, smacking my back harder than necessary.

I plaster on a fake smile, sucking it up and correcting the course. “Yeah, I’m just joking. These guys never fail to be there for me. Our relationships are always strong, honestly often strengthened by the ways we evolve away from each other sometimes.”

When Ashton starts talking next, it takes a lot of self-control not to lunge at him.

“Yeah, there’s nothing that could come between us. These are my brothers, you know?” 

I don’t have to look at him to know he’s looking at me.

My smile, still fake, widens. “Oh yeah, nothing could ever break these bonds.”

After the interview ends, I don’t bother thanking the host or crew. I take off my headset and set it on the table before walking quickly outside of the studio, pulling my pack of cigarettes and lighter from my back pocket. It feels like such bullshit to have to sit there and act like I’m happy.

“Cal, I know you guys are having issues,” Matt says, following me outside. He looks annoyed, as usual. “But you have to reign it in.”

I puff out smoke and laugh bitterly. “We’re more than ‘having issues’, Matt.”

Matt takes a few steps towards me so that his face is right by mine. “I’m canceling shows for you. I’m canceling interviews so you don’t have to plaster on a fake smile more than necessary. Fuck, I picked up your drunk ex-girlfriend at the beach for you. You’re pissed at Ash. I get it. But you have to get your shit together. This is your job. This is something you chose. Grow the hell up and be civil for the twenty fucking minutes you spend on air with him.”

I roll my eyes. “It’s also the hours on stage and rehearsing, riding in the tour bus. It’s not just twenty minutes at a time.”

Matt rips my cigarette out of my hand. “Hood, I really don’t care. Keep your personal life out of your professional one if you’re not able to be a mature adult when your feelings get hurt.”

“Excuse me, who the fuck are you, again? Oh, right, a man that I pay.” 

“You know damn well you’re not going to fire me and find another manager that will take care of you guys the way I do.”

I hold back then, because he’s right. Matt is an exceptional manager and he’s been with us for years. I can’t imagine where we’d be without him. “Fine. I just won’t talk in any interviews and I won’t talk onstage. I can’t promise I won’t repeat the shit I just said, so it’s best if I just don’t talk.” 

Matt sighs, and then he surprises me by hugging me. “That’s fine. You don’t talk much anyway.”

Reluctantly, I hug him back. The words that just came from both of us wouldn’t have ever suggested we’d be hugging now, but here we are. 

“If I haven’t said it, Cal, I’m sorry. She was incredible, and I can’t imagine how you feel right now. None of us saw that coming.” 

I appreciate that Matt isn’t saying anything negative about Orion. Everyone who knows her knows better than to badmouth her. She’s doing shitty things, but she’s not a shitty person. She’s still the best person I know, despite how much she’s hurting me. I’m still in shock most days.

I go to text her when I first wake up each morning, and then am painfully reminded that I can’t. I can’t even see what she’s doing because she removed me as a follower on Instagram. It takes a lot of self control not to text her throughout the day, awake and sober, just missing her badly. I hope she’s doing okay. I know I’m not. 

—

Performing in LA should be fun. Our friends and our friends who’ve become family all get to come. It’s our home field, basically. Backstage before the show, everyone was too happy.

They all took shots together, playing games of beer pong and just catching up after we’ve been away for a while. It makes me sick to my stomach, so I spend most of the time before the show outside with some of the crew, just smoking. Our crew knows me well enough to just leave me alone, smoking silently next to me for a while. 

“There you are!” Roy’s voice suddenly sounds.

I smile at him. It’s a real smile. It’s nice to see him. “Hey, man.” 

Roy grins, walking over and sitting next to me on the ground. “Just wanted to check in with you, see how you’re handling things.” 

My bitter laugh, a sound I seem to be making a lot these days, falls from my mouth with a trail of smoke. “Like shit.”

He nods and stares at his hands. “I know it doesn’t seem like it now, but if I know anything about Orion, she’s gonna come around.”

I want to believe him, but I don’t know if I do. She was so determined to end things. It hurt to watch how badly it was hurting her to push me away. She needed to end things, for whatever reason she had for doing it. ‘Sparing’ me. 

“Guess we’ll see in time.” 

Roy sighs from beside me. “Your guys’ love was—is—so real, Cal. You can’t just shut that off.”

“She did it because she loves me. It’s fucked, but that’s why.”

The next thing I know, Roy’s practically giggling. It doesn’t make me laugh, but it does make me smile. His laugh makes me happier, somehow. 

“Sorry, it’s not funny. That’s just, like, the most Orion thing I’ve ever heard.” 

I smile, tears flooding my eyes. “Yeah, it really is.”

Roy and I hang out until Matt tells everyone it’s time to head to the stage. He gives me a hug and says he’s going to watch from VIP with the rest of our friends, and I join the rest of the band for our pre-show shots. 

“5SOS on five?” Luke asks, handing each of us a shot glass. 

“5SOS on five,” Mike confirms.

We count to five, yell ‘5SOS,’ hit our shots against each other’s, and then we gulp the burning tequila down. Everyone else has a chaser, but not me. I grab the tequila bottle and pour myself another, and another, and another. 

After I’ve had four shots of tequila, I grab a beer from the fridge and my mic pack from its spot where it’s charging. The rest of the band doesn’t say anything but follows suit, and then we’re walking to the side of the stage. 

“Let’s get this shit over with,” I mutter.

Luke throws a hand onto my shoulder and squeezes. 

“If you need a break, just take it, okay?”

I nod and fight the tears that threaten to form. It’s our first show after the breakup, and I know I’ll be a mess if I think about it too much. Some songs are written for Orion, so those will hurt, but so will the ones written about breakups and heartbreak, which our fans joke is all we write about.

Ashton nods to us before he walks out to take his seat behind the drums. He bangs a brief rhythm, and then Mike walks out, his guitar slung over his neck. He waves to the crowd with a huge smile. 

I put one foot in front of the other to make it to my spot, grabbing my bass from its stand. I walk up to my mic and nod at the crowd. The deafening screams have just been background noise this whole time, but now they’re accompanied by glaring stage lights. 

When Luke walks out, the crowd goes crazier. He smiles as wide as Mike did, waving with both hands before he takes his spot, center stage. 

On Ashton’s cue, we all start, and I curse the fact that our opener is a song that I have lead vocals on. I try to lose myself in the music, strumming the chords I’ve played a thousand times before, singing the words to the music I helped write but now feel like a foreign language as they blare through the speakers and the crowd sings along. 

I’m able to operate on autopilot until we get to the brief section of our set that has a slower pace. Luke talks, and I drink a few long gulps from my can of beer. Once it’s empty, I hold the can up to a crew member, motioning that I’d like another. 

“LA, we’re about to slow things down for a bit, but first I just want to introduce you to my brothers up here with me, in case this is your first 5SOS show.

“To my right, we’ve got the ever so talented Michael Clifford, the first one to join me in this lame ass band. To my left, we’ve got the stoic, beautiful bassist, and my best friend, Calum Hood. Behind me, our very sweaty drummer, Ashton Irwin!” The crowd roars with each introduction, and I just focus on the beer that a crew member trades out for my empty can. I crack it open and drink from it while I can.

“And we can’t forget, Luke Hemmings. Voice of an angel, our frontman, and the reason we’re a band in the first place!” Ashton takes over for him, and I don’t bother even trying to look at him. “Los Angeles, we hope you like this next one. This is Ghost of You.”

Michael starts playing before I can even get my bearings, and the words Luke sings cut deep as the whole entire room sings along. 

If I can dream long enough, 

You’d tell me I’d be just fine 

I’ll be just fine

Every time I close my eyes, I have flashbacks of Orion. Smiling, laughing, running down a beach or telling me a joke on a walk somewhere in Europe. Happy, blissful, pure. My girl, before she fell apart, before her fucked up fate blew up her life and her dreams.

And I chase it down

With a shot of truth 

The words ring too true to the shots I just took to drown out everything I’m feeling. I feel the tears falling fast down my face as I try to harmonize, but I give up and take a few steps back from my mic. Luke looks at me, holding his mic while he sings. He looks worried, so I have to look away from him.

I’m supposed to sing the second verse, but I know I can’t. As if they planned it, Michael sings it for me when he notices the look on my face. 

Cleaning up today Found that old Zeppelin shirt You wore when you ran away And no one could feel your hurt

The fans go wild at Michael singing my verse. I can barely keep playing the few notes that I need to for this slow song, and thank god that they had a system in place for me inevitably being unable to sing my own verses. 

All I can think about is Orion. She pushed everyone away. She pushed all of us away. She ran away from our home and is living in San Diego now. It hurt so badly to walk into our apartment last night when we got to LA to find it barren of her things. She’s gone. 

The rest of the song is a blur, and I just play the bass off to the side of the stage, not even looking at the crowd. I just look at Luke and Michael and am grateful for them more than ever in this moment. I’m lucky to have bandmates like them who double as best friends. 

When the song ends, Michael walks up to me with Luke in tow while the fans cheer. 

“You good, Cal? We can take 5 if you need,” Mike says, reaching a hand out to rest on my arm.

I shake my head, even though I know the next song will be equally as painful, if not more so. “No. Let’s just get this over with.” 

They both look at me with immense pity. I hate it. I walk back to my mic stand, determined to at least sing the first verse. We start Amnesia and I close my eyes, hoping that tears don’t fall while I sing.

I drove by all the places we used to hang out getting wasted I thought about our last kiss How it felt, the way you tasted And even though your frie—

I have to cut myself off as my voice cracks and I step back from the mic, letting Luke finish it off for me.

You’re doing fine Are you somewhere feeling lonely even though he’s right beside you? When he says those words that hurt you, do you read the ones I wrote you? Sometimes I start to wonder, was it just a lie? If what we had was real, how could you be fine?

I step back up to my mic, needing to scream the last words of the prechorus.

‘Cause I’m not fine at all

I full on sob for the rest of the song, each of the lyrics hitting way too close to home. I don’t sing into the mic, but I sing to myself while I play and watch Luke and Michael sing the words to the crowd. For the most part, I face the back of the stage, toward Ashton, but ignore his very concerned glances toward me. 

And the dreams you left behind, you didn’t need them Like every single wish we ever made I wish that I could wake up with amnesia And forget about the stupid little things Like the way it felt to fall asleep next to you And the memories I never can escape ‘Cause I’m not fine at all

—

@5SOSUpdates: Cal barely sang tonight at the LA show. Luke & Mike picked up most of his solos and he cried during GOY and Amnesia </3

@5SOSFan4Ever: my heart broke piece by piece watching cal struggle to get through tonight’s show :( my poor bb

@CalumGirl: imagine having your worst heartbreak be on public display. sending so much love to you @calum5sos

@LetThemEatCake5SOS: does anyone know what actually happened betw cal and orion? they both don’t seem to be doing well and i loved them together.

@5SOSFan4Ever: Replying to @LetThemEatCake5SOS: yeah their friends are all still interacting. something seems wrong. makes me sad :’( 

@CalumGirl: Replying to @LetThemEatCake5SOS: someone said orion has terminal cancer and that’s why they broke up. idk how true that is but if it’s true i am simply devastated

@OrilumStan: my babies broke up and both are struggling it is ROUGH out here just look how sad he was onstage. Image attached

@CashtonLover: Replying to @OrilumStan: has anyone seen/heard anything from orion? i know she’s always been private but i’m so nosy @OrilumStan: Replying to @CashtonLover: no, a few of her friends have posted stuff to their stories about respecting privacy tho. and like i get it but I WANNA KNOW

read next chapter

[godsprettiestprincess]

Good morning everyone I am fed up and finally have the motivation to do this, so welcome to

What the fuck was up with Azazel

(A breakdown of his canonical instructions, actions, and the plan we can assume he had from that)

(Aka why Sam isn’t as special as he seems, Lucifer isn’t as at fault as everybody thinks, and nobody in the show knows as much as we do — TLDR at the bottom!!)

I wanna start off my saying that this whole thing is messy as fuck, and the transition from him as the main antagonist to the apocalypse plotline is disjointed at best so any misunderstandings are completely understandable.

TIMELINE:

1972 (s4): Azazel goes to St. Mary’s Convent in Ilchester, Maryland (apparently built on top of the spot where Lucifer was first sealed away). There he possesses a priest, slaughters roughly a dozen nuns and — we can assume — does a ritual that allows Lucifer to speak through one of them. This succeeds and the conversation goes as follows:

Azazel: Father, look… I’m not exactly the praying type, but still… I made the sacrifice. I got you a bag full of nuns. So, uh.. can you hear me? Can you whisper through the door?

Lucifer: I’m here, my son.

Azazel: It’s so good to hear your voice, padre. I’ve been searching for you for so long. You have no idea. The others have lost faith. Dickless heathens. But not me.

Lucifer: You’ve done well.

Azazel: So, uh… how do I bust you out?

Lucifer: Lilith.

Azazel: Lilith? Father, she’s… trapped neck-deep in the pit. It won’t be easy.

Lucifer: Lilith. Lilith can break the seals.

Azazel: Yeah, okay. But what do I do?

Lucifer: You must find me a child. A very special child.

Azazel: What do you mean? What child?

1973 (s4): Dean gets sent back in time and meets John and the Campbells. Using present day John’s journal he learns that Azazel is attacking nearby families and decides to try to kill him, dragging the Campbells into the hunt on accident while trying to gather information. Dean, Mary, and Samuel intercept Azazel at Mary’s friends house, where he’s trying to make a deal with her. Mary attacks him and he mentions that he likes her (saying “Where the hell have they been hiding you?”), then flees his vessel when faced with the colt. Azazel then possesses Samuel and follows the family home and Dean accidentally tells him who he is (John & Mary’s kid) while trying to get Samuel on his side. Azazel reveals himself and they have this conversation:

Azazel; Future boy, huh? I only know one thing that’s got the juice to swing something like that, you must have friends in high places. So, I kill your mommy? That’s why you came all this was to see little ol’ me?

Dean: Oh I came here to kill you.

Azazel: Hey. Wait a minute. If that slug married your mommy, are you- are you one of my psychic kids? ……No. Not you. Maybe you got a sis. Or a bro. That’s terrific. That means it all worked out. After all, it’s why I’m here.

Dean: So that’s what this is about — these deals you’re making. You don’t want these peoples' souls.

Azazel: No. I just want their children. I’m here to choose the perfect parents, like your mommy.

Dean: Why her? Why any of them?

Azazel: Because they’re strong. They’re pure. They eat their wheaties. My own little master race. They’re ideal breeders. Oh, get your mind out of the gutter, no one’s breeding with me. Though Mary… man, I’d like to make an exception. So far, she’s my favorite.

Dean: So why make the deals?

Azazel: I need permission. I need to be invited into their houses. I know, I know — the red tape will drive you nuts, but in 10 short years, it’ll all be worth it. ‘Cause you know what I’m gonna do to your sibling? I’m gonna stand over their crib, and I’m gonna bleed into their mouth. Demon blood is better than ovaltine, vitamins, minerals, it makes you big and strong!

Dean: For what? So they can lead your discount demon army? Is that your big plan?

Azazel: Please. My endgame's a hell of a lot bigger than that, kid.

Dean: Endgame? What endgame?

Azazel: Like I’m gonna tell you. Or those angels sitting on your shoulder. No. I’m gonna cover my tracks good.

1983 (s1): Azazel breaks into the Winchester house on Sam’s 6month birthday and makes good on his deal, feeding Sam demon blood. Mary interrupts him, recognizes him, and is murdered, pushing John to become a hunter. He presumably goes through with this with all the other families he’d been making deals with 10 years ago during this time as well. (This is the first batch, which includes all the other named special children we meet.)

1983-2005 (pre-canon): Sam is routinely watched/contacted by demons working for Azazel, most obviously when a demon possesses his friend Brady, introduces him to Jess, then kills her the same way Mary was killed — pushing him back into hunting. (Though this probably happens to him more than usual over his life because of his favored status and Johns position as a hunter, given Azazel directly contacts/manipulates both Webber/Ansem (2x05) and Scott (2x10) that we know of, the assumption that Sam was the sole focus of this kind of control (because of him being Lucifer’s vessel or otherwise) is likely inaccurate.)

2006 (s1): John has tracked the same demonic omens that showed up before Azazel came to collect and killed Mary to Salvation, Iowa. When they get there Sam begins to have visions about a specific family & 6month old child* that Azazel is targeting. John is lured away by Meg and kidnapped, and Dean tries and fails to shoot Azazel but saves the family. Azazel possesses John and goes with Sam & Dean to their safe house after they rescue him and tells Sam that there’s a plan for him & the other kids.

2007 (s2): Scattered throughout, we meet more people with Sam’s abilities. Eventually, Sam and 4 other psychic kids (Jake, Andy, Ava, and Lily) are transported to an old ghost town in South Dakota, where they’re attacked by demons that kill one of them, Lily, for trying to escape. Azazel reaches out to Sam in a dream and tells him the game, that this is a hunger games style final test, he only needs the one person alive to be a leader, and Sam is the one he’s rooting for*. Ava kills Andy with a demon and Sam catches her. She reveals that she’s been here for 5 months already, participating in matches with other groups like this and winning all of them, and that she’s the one who killed Lily. She tries to attack Sam and Jake snaps her neck. With the demon attacking them out of the way Sam tries to get Jake to escape with him but Jake refuses, saying only one of them is going to escape. They fight, and Jake manages to kill Sam by stabbing him in the back, winning the contest.

As Dean & Bobby mourn Sam, Azazel contacts Jake and tells him there’s things he needs him to do, and that if he doesn’t comply Azazel will torture & kill his family. Dean summons a demon and takes the deal to trade his soul for Sam back to life plus a year to live. Him, a now resurrected Sam, Bobby, & Ellen discover a massive devils trap containing a gate to hell that demons are circling around, and Azazel sends Jake into it to open the gate. Costing him his life, Jake opens the gate with the colt and demons come pouring out, breaking the lines of the massive devils trap and letting Azazel in. He joins the fight and thanks Dean for bringing Sam back, but gets attacked by John’s ghost and drops the colt, letting Dean get his hands on it and kill him. Ellen & Bobby get the gate closed, John disappears, cut to black.

BREAKDOWN:

What we can put together from all this convoluted nonsense orchestrated by a liar is this: Azazel's instructions from Lucifer amount to ‘free Lilith, get me a special kid’. Azazel takes this information and starts looking for a way out of hell for Lilith, finding the gate to hell in Wyoming with the giant devil’s trap around it. Naturally, realizing that no pure blood demon could break this, he “realizes” what the special kid would be for — a human with demonic abilities that could be used to help break the seals without being bound by usual demon restraints (potentially acting as a successor to Azazel himself). With this in mind he starts planning to make one, finding people to make deals with to gain access to newborns. Mary Winchester is not on this list until she goes to him on information from Dean, sent back in time by angels, but he successfully adds her to it last minute and gets access to Sam, unaware of his importance.

From here, canon starts, and we see his plan actually unfolding. Deals are collected upon, Mary and many other parents interrupt and are killed, John starts hunting Azazel, and Sam & the many other special kids in his generation grow up. At 22 their powers kick in and they start getting weeded out, being manipulated by Azazel into more and more extreme things and dying from them, until it’s time for the death matches. Groups of kids with more and more potential are thrown together to see who wins, until the last group, containing Sam, is assembled and the winner is picked. The special child gets put to good use and the gate is opened — but Azazel dies, and we never get to see where the rest of the plan would have actually gone.

*Azazel also mentions other generations of kids with demon blood in this conversation, which tracks with the baby he was targeting in s1, and also gives more credit to the idea that he didn’t know he already had what Lucifer had told him to look for (Sam)

TL;DR

Azazel‘s goal was freeing Lilith, it’s the angels fault Sam was fed demon blood, and the whole project never had anything to do with vessels.

[mortuarywriting]

📚 🧚‍♀️ Just one or both if you'd like 👉👈

I can do both!! These were super neat to think on!! the second one is absolutely why this gets a read more. I went off the shits. So sorry about that.

📚 how do you come up with the fics you write

Hmmm sometimes it's seeing the right prompt, sometimes its seeing ideas being tossed around and thinking on it, sometimes its taking the canon and seeing how a seemingly small but significant shift would impact it and how that would domino effect! I love playing with worldbuilding sandboxes so much that sometimes the fics themselves fall to the wayside ">>

🧚‍♀️ favorite characters of all time

OUGH this is such a hard one!! How do you choose a favorite child!! I'll scoop from the top and be read for filth for it I think but. Worth it i think. Anyway you get them alphabetically

Auron - Final Fantasy X

This is it. This is your story. It all begins here.

I. boy I am really not immune to Dark Knights in the FF franchise the more I think about it but! Auron has always been such a good character and I associate him so much with a song I LOVE... Auron is just one of my favorite companions, I love the insight he brings and how he was a Guardian for Yuna's Father as well as her. He's also one of Two Nickels I realize I'd have for Dark Knights in Final Fantasy Game who [REDACTED].

Death - Darksiders 2

All who live know my name, all who oppose me shall know Death.

Caaan't find a decent pic of him and I don't really wanna go and redownload the whole game for screenshot purposes yet. Aywho-

Darksiders 2 is all about Death, the oldest of the Nephilim/Horsemen of the Apocalypse proving the innocence of his brother War (seen lower in the list) for the crime of allegedly starting the Apocalypse early. Between this game and the Abomination Vault book preceding any of the games I really appreciate these two, Death being a ridiculously smart but also an apathetic asshole who only cares for a small handful, plays things close to his chest... He's a neat character and I appreciate just how far ahead he seems to plan and the lengths he'll go to make sure it all goes as he wants it to. Metal as hell.

Because War has his I also have to show Death's horse so this is Despair

And this is his Reaper Form

Fray Myste - Final Fantasy XIV

Bastard of the Brume, Fray was taken in by Ser Ompagne and became trained in becoming a Dark Knight with Sidurgu. By the time we meet them Ompagne is long dead, and Fray has just been defeated in a duel.

We find Fray, pick up the Dark Knight Soul crystal from where it had fallen beside him, and he becomes your mentor upon your waking up. You touched something that would hurt yourself and others along the way and BOY HOWDY does he have excellent threats of violence. Will follow you around on your job quests and heal you while you're being a dumb tank. He writes your quest journal entries and is such a sassy bloodthirsty shit

Fray is the other of the Two Nickels I realize I'd have for Dark Knights in Final Fantasy Game who [REDACTED].

Jarlaxle Baenre - Forgotten Realms

I am Jarlaxle. I have been everywhere.

Lets start with Jarlaxle was born the third son of the Highest House in Menzoberranzan- a city where the houses are constantly trying to kill the house ahead of them for status and do so to not get caught, their goddess Lolth favoring those who get away with no evidence to damn themselves. To that end there's a firm rule enforced by Lolth- every third son is to be sacrificed to her- two male children are expendable and acceptable but any further are sacrificed after birth.

Jarlaxle's mother, ruler of the highest house and having kept that seat for Ages, went to acquiesce with that upon Jarlaxle's birth.

Lolth told her no. Jarlaxle was to live, he was too interesting.

He has since made this an everyone else problem. Man has connections in the underdark and surface, everything he wears is in some form enchanted, he's proficient with just about everything, and he is so fascinated with various things and just wants to see what happens next and how it can help him get ahead. I love him. I wanna study him under a microscope. Every character that's been in a campaign he's turned up in has vibe checked him and decided they want out of the room right now immediately. Most notably my dude who was sometimes part moose said "I'd like to leave, actually"

Urick - Drakengard 2

A masked man who lives a life haunted by the curse of death. Three years ago, after a tragic incident, he made a pact with the Reaper, although the price he paid for this pact is unknown. At first glance he appears to be a carefree, lively character who could never bear a grudge. However, on rare occasions, his jovial facade can't quite conceal the truth...

To preface the significance of this-

A Pact, also known as a Contract (契約 Keiyaku?) in the Japanese version, is a contract system in the world of Drakengard between a human (or other humanoid race) and a beast. By merging their souls together, the human gains supernatural powers, and both participants gain a second chance in life should either or both be close to death. The human must pay some price for the pact, and if one should be fatally injured, it means death for both unless the pact is broken. Beings who have formed a pact with each other are referred to as "pact-partners".

Urik's pact is his mortality. Straight up he does not have a heart in his chest anymore. He's just a generally chill guy and while I haven't gone through Drakengard 2 in years (thanks playstation for 0 drakengard or drakengard 2 rep) I remember him fondly. I forgot how much I loved him and that his wiki trivia describes him as "Urick is good at playing dead." The game quote they chose for him is "Just because you can't make any friends, doesn't mean you should take it out on the rest of us" which is what he says as he's about to save your character's life.

plus lookit this smile

War - Darksiders

You can look me in the eye when I kill you.

Darksiders is a game about oops, the apocalypse started on earth! Heaven and Hell start duking it out in the streets and humanity suffers for it. Humans die out, earth is in ruins, and all of it is conveniently laid at the feet of War - youngest of the Four Horsemen who has gotten in trouble for fighting with humanity before (please see left arm being fuckoff huge gauntlet. That's a prosthetic. Death cut his arm off for that bullshit in the comics).

Now, War is a man of his word and high code of honor- he said he'd leave humans be and he did. He's been framed and the Council- those in charge of keeping the balance and the bosses of the Horsemen- gives him a shot to prove his innocence and find the actual culprits with a Watcher keeping tabs and reporting back.

This is his horse, Ruin

This is his Chaos Form

War is voiced by Liam O'Brian and the Watcher is voiced by Mark Hamill. so that's fun. Samael in game could also get it but that does not a fav make.

Also fun lore fact: all the horsemen's horses are the same species. The horse just reflects the rider once they've bonded. Fun magic shit.