#and how she lamented having to deal with my thick hair

[officialtokyosan]

its so sad how my own mom believed what insane shit my white teachers said about me over than me, her child.

[yezielmoore]

3. Tempest

Still in my ffxiv/hi3 bullshit.

When does this happen, you ask me; and with a shrug i answer you. Because honestly? I was just just vibing and then I realized half way through the prompt that the ARR voyaje didn't have a storm. Oh no. it was the infamous 1.0 cutscene that crashed many a PC which had the storm. Thinking about it, i like the idea that Himeko splashed into Eorzea a little bit earlier than ARR, but we'll see. we'll see.

*.*.*

‘The ocean truly is a treacherous mistress’, Himeko thought as she fought to keep her footing on the rocking ship, as saltwater soaked her from every side and rain as thick as a curtain made visibility all but impossible. 

Himeko had no idea where this storm had come from and, judging from the startled and fearful expressions all around, not a single passenger had expected a tempest of this magnitude either. (Just moments before the sky had been clear!). She looked around, lost. Her stint as Captain of a flying marvel of technology had certainly not prepared her for adverse weather conditions on a ship made of wood, metal and cloth. 

To think that it had been less than a day since her suspiciously opportune rescue. She shuddered at the mere thought of braving these waves on her little boat. It would have made for a very short second life. Instead of stewing on that lovely thought, she rushed towards the sailor shouting the loudest. She may not know how to deal with an emergency in the ocean, but she knew how to take orders from those that had the necessary knowledge. 

“I can help, where do you need me?” 

The sailor, one of those giant people with strangely square features and exotic skin color, looked at her dubiously. Her new tail lashed out like a whip. 

‘I probably look ridiculous,’ Himeko thought glumly, ‘like a wet cat abandoned on the side of the road.’

Setting her probably inappropriate humor aside, she refocused on the guy. She was prepared to argue her point when a wave taller than all previous ones rocked the ship violently, dragging any unsecured crates all over the place as well as overboard and forcing her to crouch and dig her claws on the deck in order to stay in place, the hardened wood underneath giving away like soft butter. 

The sailor she had been talking to wasn’t as lucky, he lost his footing and careened away from her before she could react. She cursed and briefly lamented the lack of her Vermilion Knight battlesuit, or any of her battlesuits really. Shoving that thought away for later (or never), she shifted into a better position for a jump and just… leaped. 

Clutching his ankle in a death grip (he was going to feel it for days, but at least he’d be alive to complain) Himeko dug the claws of her free hand and both feet on the deck. She gritted her teeth at the twinge of pain and the strain of overtaxed muscles, but didn’t let go until their momentum stopped. 

Sighing in relief that her utterly impulsive reaction (a reaction truly worthy of Kiana herself, dear God) didn’t end with both of them thrown overboard. Himeko absently wiped her face and tossed her wet hair out of her face, unknowingly leaving trails of bright red in the fine fur of her face.

Those would be washed away in short order, but in that moment, for that sailor, she was like a goddess of war that had descended to help them weather the storm. 

“So… how can I help?”

[aeivyen]

Steph Made a Maze, chapter 1

A vampiric romance I've been writing for awhile, but haven't shared (on here). Content warnings on this chapter for sex. If you've been here awhile you might recognize the characters, but it's def not important if you do

~~~

"Do you wanna go bowling with me?"

Steph wasn't entirely certain what she was anticipating when the guy walked up, long sleeved salmon-pink polo and khaki dress slacks not quite fitting the neon noise of the club, thick dark hair pulled back in a soft bun. It hadn't been that question. She stopped swirling the glass in her hand.

"I mean, sorry, you just don't look like you're having a good time? Every time I've glanced over this way you've been leaning against the bar and sipping at your drink, and you look bored; and I can't blame you, because I'm not having a good time either," he continued. Laughed a little, eyes crinkling. "My friends kinda dragged me here and then semi-ditched me. But I did some googling and there's a bar-and-bowling place just down the street from here, and you're cute, and I'd love to buy you some nachos or something and talk somewhere quieter."

He wasn't wrong, exactly. He talked fast, with a squeak in his voice like he wasn't used to talking over the crowd and the music. "Or I could leave you alone. I'm bothering you. I'll-"

"No, no," she shook her head, setting the drink back on the bar behind her. "You're not bothering me. I was just expecting some weird pickup line and you caught me off guard," she assured. This was the most interesting thing to happen in a while; damn, but she wanted to see where this went. "Bowling sounds fun."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

He laughed, and there was that crinkle around his eyes again. Then a nod as he slowly came to the conclusion that she was being serious. "Alright. Cool. I'm Tom, by the way," he offered a hand, giving hers a slight squeeze when she shook it. 

"Steph. Nice to meet you," she pulled back, flashing a smile. Careful about the teeth. "Show me to the bowling place?" The hunting hadn't been going well tonight, and it had been for herself anyway; she could wait another day to eat. She'd gone longer without feeding.

Tom grinned. They lingered in the bar long enough for her to pay off her tab and for him to text his friends about ditching them. Then he brought up the directions on his phone and they were out in the cool night, the bumping bass fading into the background of the city. Steph sighed; that was always a relief. 

"Are your ears still ringing, or just mine?" He hummed, breaking the quiet as they walked side by side, rubbing one of his ears. 

"They play the music so loud! It's almost painful," she lamented. It had been physically painful the first several times she'd gone hunting in places like that, and it still was sometimes, but she'd learned to deal. "I don't know how anyone stands it."

"Honestly," he laughed. "It's not for me. If it weren't for being dragged over," he shook his head. Fixed the couple ringlets that had come loose. "I mean it sounds fun on paper, but."

"No, I get it. If I knew what else to do with myself I probably wouldn't go either." She sighed. Every once in a while she'd go hunting in a quieter bar, but the buzzing crowds generally offered better odds. "But clubbing is the kinda thing you're just supposed to like, right?"

"I get that impression too." Tom hummed, nudging her arm. "Oh, I see it: Up My Alley. Right there."

Up My Alley bowling and bar was a far cry from any bowling alley she'd ever seen. The crack of ball against bowling pin contrasted with relaxed bassy strings, the bar tucked up front with the shoe locker and lanes hiding behind it. Red velvety carpet and the smell of cheap nacho cheese. "Weird~ where's the funky carpet and the blacklight?"

"There's a little bit of an identity crisis, I think." He giggled, pausing with her at the door to take it all in. "I like it."

"Definitely interesting." 

"Like a jazz club and a bowling alley had a baby."

A snort of laughter, and Steph shook her head. "Okay, well, let's get our bowling shoes and rent a lane, hm?" She waved him further in, and he ducked ahead of her just as they were reaching the counter so he could pay.

"Want any drinks or snacks? Nachos are still on the table." He offered as they changed out of their shoes.

"I'm not hungry, but thanks." She hummed, adding, "could go for a water if you go to grab anything, though."

"Water it is~ I'm gonna see if they have any ciders on tap. Meet you at our lane?"

"Meet you there."

Steph wandered over to the lane, poking at the little interface, nose wrinkling: touch screen. She was getting better with them but they still felt weird; whatever happened to buttons? Maybe she'd leave that for Tom. Went to pick out a ball next, testing out one after the next and settling on the heaviest.

Tom wandered over with a cider and a bottle of water, offering a grin as he handed her drink over. "One water for the lady."

"Thank you," she smiled back, taking it gently. It was nice that it was a bottled water. "I'm no good with the touch screen things; would you mind doing that part?"

"Oh? Yeah, sure," he hummed, sipping at his drink and tapping at it. "Not great with technology?"

"Doesn't come naturally." She shook her head, cracking the seal and taking a drink. "I find a lot of the app stuff confusing. No one labels their buttons properly anymore, they just kinda expect you to know what they're supposed to do based on color or placement or whatever."

He hummed softly, typing something in. "Yeah, that's true isn't it? My younger cousin tried to show me how to snapchat and I swear, it's all just swipe this or that."

"Awful." She made a face, cracking into laughter when he glanced over. 

With a couple more taps to the screen he hummed, nodded, then stepped back. "I think I got it. It's your turn first, so why don't you go and I'll pick out a ball?"

"Sounds like a plan~" 

It took a few frames worth of gutterballs for Steph to find just the right amount of power to use; it was safer to start too weak than it would be to overshoot it. "Ah, yes! Spare~" she cheered, high fiving Tom on her way back to the seats. 

"You're getting it now." He giggled, fussing with his bowling ball while they waited for the pins to set up again. "So, if you don't bowl much, and you don't really like the club, then how do you usually pass the time?"

"Oh," she blinked, "well, I guess I mostly work. I do hang out at the clubs pretty often," she admitted, offering a slight shrug. "I mean, how else do you meet people, right? But, yeah. Mostly work."

"I get that." A nod. "What do you do for work?"

"That's a good question," she laughed. "It's, well -- I do a lot of odd jobs, academia related. Remote stuff. I've got a history degree specializing in the oral traditions of Central America -- or, what's now considered 'Central America'," she griped, blushing a little when he leaned in to listen. "Um, anyway. Mostly not to do with that. I peer review articles sometimes, or help out in the Writers Workshop at the local community college when they have their night classes."

"That's so cool~ I never managed to finish school, but it was a good time." Grabbing his ball, he waggled his eyebrows, knocking over all but two of the pins and cheering.

"Nice one~" Steph cheered with him as he walked back to reclaim his ball. "What do you do for a living?"

"I, ah," his cheeks colored in pink, and he rubbed the back of his neck. "It's nothing special. I'm an assistant manager at a little mom-and-pop grocer. Puts food on the table." He shrugged, fussing with his near empty glass before taking another sip.

Steph pat his arm. "Yeah? I bet that's a hard job, working with people all the time."

"It can be. Some people are nice, you know," he shrugged. His ball clattered back up into the return, and he picked it up. "Others not so much. I'm sure you know how it is: I get through."

"I get that," she hummed, sipping at her water. "Oh, you got this~ get that spare."

"I'll get it." He grinned, heading back out. He carefully considered his place, and his angle, and practiced his throw a couple times before actually making it. Held his breath during the follow-through. Steph caught her eyes trailing down his back and quickly refocused on the ball rolling down the lane. It hit just the edge of the pins, only toppling one. "Damn."

"So close! You'll get it next time." She assured when he came back, shaking out her curls and taking a sip of water. This was just bowling. 

A chagrined smile. "Giving you a chance to catch up."

"It's so appreciated, I need it." Steph laughed. Watched the machine set the pins back down. "So, what kind of stuff do you do? In your off time, I mean."

"I watch a lot of movies," he offered, "does that count?"

"Yeah, that counts," she giggled. Sighed, "I need to watch more movies." Picked up her ball. "I see the trailers sometimes, mostly when my roommates are using the tv, and I always mean to watch the movie when it comes out but I never do."

"No?"

A shrug. "I guess I never get around to it. Feels like I'm always running around," she shook her head. "I read more than I watch things, but that's mostly because I keep a book next to my bed."

"I guess that's fair. I have a subscription to a couple of those indie movie websites, if that tells you anything about how much I like and watch them," he flushed. "Not in a pretentious way, though. Promise."

She snickered. Teased, "Oh, promise? Your taste hasn't evolved too far past the average moviegoer?"

"Nope," he popped the word, not quite holding a straight face. "I still watch all of the blockbusters, and they're mostly fine. They can be a good time."

Steph held the ball close, nearly doubling over when the humor caught up to them. "Then you'll have to give me some recommendations maybe. Can't promise I'll get to them, but," she shrugged, "always looking to add things to the list. Be right back; I feel like I'm ready for a strike."

"You got this!"

She did have it. Even got another and a spare before the end of the game, closing in on Tom's score even if she didn't win. "Aw man~ next time, next time I'll get 'ya," she promised, shaking a fist at his hammy little winner's dance. Then doubled over with laughter.

"Next time?" His heart picked up slightly. She bit her lip. "Wanna go another round then?"

"Night's still young," she agreed, checking her watch. Six hours until dawn. "I think they're going to be shutting down here soon, though. Maybe something else?"

His brows went straight up, and he swallowed hard. "Um, my place is only about fifteen minutes from here; we can watch a movie maybe?" His pulse was racing now. She didn't want to put a name to that; there was a pounding in her chest, too.

The night was still young. "Do you have anything weird but approachable?"

"I think I have just the thing," he nodded after a moment. "Do you need to get your car?"

Steph shook her head. "I took the bus. Your car?"

"In a lot down the street."

They turned in their shoes. Tom offered his arm as they left the building, and she cozied next to him. The night had gone from cool to cold, and he felt even warmer in comparison. Held her close, but not firm; the kind of light touch that drew back the moment she shifted even an inch away. 

"Blue honda, right here," he pointed out, drawing away to unlock the car and throw open the passenger's side door for her. Went around the other side as she was climbing in. "Door's a little fussy, but it'll close so long as you're a little firm with it."

She was firm, and it closed easily. The radio popped to life as soon as he turned the key, a half-second of loud caterwauling music before he turned it back off. "Don't like that song?"

"Not really fitting for the mood." He breathed a laugh, shaking his head. Pulled the band out of his hair as he settled into the driver's seat, curls spilling over his shoulders. Fussed with the console and turned the music back up on something with breathy vocals and a jazzy rhythm. Reversed, pulled out into traffic.

Steph tapped her knees to the syncopated beat. "Catchy."

"If you like my taste in music then that bodes well for my taste in movies, I think." He scratched at the steering wheel. His complexion was soft and golden whenever the glow of the streetlights hit him through the window. 

"I like this kind of vocal, where it's not like," she clicked her tongue, "smooth? There's a raw edge to it that feels real."

A lingering glance over. A lick of his lips, then he shook his head and refocused on the road. "Yeah, heh. I think I know just the right movie."

He parked at a quiet apartment block, not too dissimilar to the place she was living: all flat off-white paint, lights flickering, not quite in disrepair but past its better days. The broken elevator left them to walk up three flights of stairs to his apartment proper: not too cramped, furnished with worn-in browns and greens. The smell of incense and candle smoke and pungent cooking spices lingering in the air. Tom flicked on a lamp, warming up a corner of the room. 

"Make yourself comfortable, please don't mind the mess too much. I wasn't really expecting company."

"You have a nice place." Steph hummed, taking in the pile of dishes and the scattered belongings on the coffee table he was hastily straightening; not much of a mess. Toed off her shoes, tucking them neatly by the door. "I like the posters."

He followed her eyes to the collection. Even in the dim light she could see the color in his cheeks deepen. "Oh, heh, yeah? The theater down the way sometimes lets me have those once they're done with them."

"Fits you, Mr. Cinephile." 

A snort of laughter, and he covered his face. "Okay for the record those are your words, I never called myself that. You don't even," he caught his breath, biting back the protests. Shook his head. "Um, bathroom is the door on the right, down that way. Do you mind if I-?"

"You do what you need to," she laughed. "I'm good for now." 

"Alright. Cool. Um, I'll be right back." 

He disappeared into the bathroom, and she came around to take a seat on the little couch, sinking in on the plush cushions. Rubbed her palm against the soft corduroy texture. The small windows on the wall opposite overlooked the street, letting in light on either side of the television. 

"So, um," Tom cleared his throat as he came out. "Do you need anything? A drink? I've got water, some juice," his hair was fluffed. Sleeves rolled up carefully. His belt was gone. 

Steph bit her lip. "I'm alright, thank you. Is it just you here?"

"Yeah," he nodded, closing the distance and turning on the television; he smelled like cinnamon mouthwash and almond perfume now. "I'm pretty lucky I could afford a place just to myself. You said you had roommates, right?"

"Two. It's not so bad; we've pooled our money, so we all have our own bedrooms and we just share the bath and the main rooms," not that it was much of a problem. She shrugged. "It works for us. We're pretty close."

"That's good." He drew the curtains in. Hummed, "it can be really nice to live with friends." Sat next to her, started fussing with the remote, clicking through his movie apps to find what he was looking for.

She nodded agreement. "It's good for me. I lived alone for a bit; the company is nice."

"Yeah?" He glanced over. "How old are you?"

Her lips pursed; it wasn't the first time she'd gotten this question. How to play it this time? "How old do you think I am?" He made a face, and she laughed. Bit her lip. "You can guess, I won't be offended. Hint: I'm older than I look."

He took a breath, almost answered, then frowned and looked her over again. "28 or 29?"

She nodded, sitting back further into the cushions. "Good guess."

"Am I right?" He asked carefully. Then, when she didn't answer, started laughing. "Wait, no, am I right or not? Are you not gonna tell me?"

Steph laughed with him. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"Come on," he pleaded, giving her a gentle shove. She doubled over, giggling into her knees. "What if I tell you my age? I'm 31."

She snorted. Sat up and fixed her hair. "That's a good age." Bit back her laughter into a tight lipped grin. 

"Older? Are you older than me?"

She shrugged, then forced a nonchalant expression. "I told you, I'm older than I look." Glanced to the tv; silent trailer playing on half of the screen, rows and rows of movies listed underneath. "So what are we watching?"

He huffed. Shook himself out of it, fumbling with the remote in his off hand before managing to get back to what he was doing. "Let me pull it up; I think you'll like it. This guy builds a maze out of cardboard in his living room, then gets lost in it because it's bigger on the inside."

"Weird," she snickered. Pretended not to notice when an arm snaked around her waist, or how she leaned back into him. At least until the first scene inside the maze, when she gasped and leaned forwards. "Oh what? Oh that looks so cool."

Tom snickered. "Right?" 

"How long do you think it took to make all that?"

"A few days?" He shrugged. "Probably depends on how many people were working on it."

With the quiet already broken Steph commented unrelentingly on the set designs, chimed in on the conversations happening on screen. Tom explained a couple of the visual effects he understood. Paused the movie when the question "what kind of maze would you make and get trapped in?" was floated. His, he insisted, would look just like an Ikea if it were only different set-dressed mud rooms. Steph thought hers would be a hallway where she could only walk forwards because everything behind her always disappeared; she didn't mention the smell of iron.

They eventually finished the movie. Put on another after because it was short and Tom thought she'd like the visuals, and there was plenty of time for her to still get home: three hours until dawn, and they were on the right side of town for the walk to maybe be half an hour if she hurried. Got caught up in a long conversation about the ethics of forcing ghosts to 'move on' if they were stuck in the living world.

This, obviously, had to be followed up by a mockumentary on the afterlife that was drier than either of them thought it would be. Tom made it halfway through before the yawns he'd been suppressing finally broke through his resolve, leaning on Steph's shoulder when he nodded off. She struggled to get to the end. Once it was finished she could see herself out, head home, get back to her normal life. 

Tom was warm. His hair was soft where it brushed against her neck, a whisper of almond perfume radiating off it. Gentle rhythm of his heartbeat drumming, ever so slightly faster on each inhale, then settling again on the exhale. The movie was so dull, almost nothing was happening in the visuals. She could close her eyes and just listen to the rest, and she wouldn't be missing anything.

~~~

A far off sound. A bright light on her face. A gentle singe.

Steph winced. Cracked an eye open and saw sunlight. Hissed. "Fuck! Shit," threw something over her head. Tucked away under whatever cover she could. Squirmed underneath the couch cushions to get further away. "Close that! Close that!"

"Ah, um," Tom babbled. The sound of the curtains closing again. "Sorry! I didn't mean to wake you, I-"

"I, it's -- fuck," she muttered. "I'm, um, shit. I'm so -- the sun? I can't, I'm severely-" what the fuck was she supposed to say? "Allergic. To the sun. It's, um," she swallowed. There was a term for this. She learned it for just this occasion. "Solar urticaria? U-r-t-i-caria. Just like a minute of sunlight and I'll-" crumble into ash, "-get horrible blisters. It's bad. I basically have to be nocturnal. Oh fuck."

There was a long, keening, confused noise from somewhere across the room. Her heart was racing. Steph managed to poke the smallest of peepholes out from the cushions and blanket -- since when was there a blanket? -- to see the windows were safely covered. Sighed in relief.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know that, um."

"You didn't know. It's fine. Just, um," fuck. She slowly unburied herself, cringing at the disarray she'd made of the couch. She didn't make it home. She fell asleep here and the sun was fully up; what time was it? Checked her watch and nearly choked: 11:50. B and Anthony were going to be so worried.

She pat her pockets; her wallet was in one, the other was empty. Where was her phone? Didn't she --

She groaned and buried her face into the arm of the couch. It was on the kitchen island. She set it there before she left to go hunting; it was still weird trying to bring her phone with her hunting. 

"Are, um. Are you okay?" Tom winced from closer to the couch.

"I forgot my phone at home and my roommates are gonna freak out." Steph groaned. 

"You could call them on my phone?" He offered.

"I don't know their numbers; I always just use the contact button," she muttered. Fixed her hair to look up at him. "Is it cool if I hang here until sunset?"

He took a breath. "Yeah, ah. Well luckily I don't have work today, so that's fine, so long as you're cool with me doing some chores? It's a chores day for me."

"Yeah, no, of course you can," she shook her head, "I can help with the chores maybe? I'm a wiz with a broom." She squeaked. Muttered, "did I really just say that?" Sighed and flopped her head back down. 

An awkward laugh. "Oh, ah, I'm not gonna make you help me clean up. It's fine."

"No, I want to. Let me be helpful."

"Maybe let's focus on breakfast first?" He tentatively pat her back. "How do you feel about eggs?"

She cringed, and he pulled back. "Um, funny about that," 

"Oh, vegan?"

"No. Far from it. Just," she took a breath. Sat up properly. "I, um. I'm on this medical fast. I'm fasting. I won't be able to eat until tonight, which is fine because I'm on this weird diet for my health; I don't usually go into it with strangers."

He stared for a long moment. "Okay. Um, you don't mind if I-"

"Eat?" She finished. "Are you wondering if I care about you eating around me?" 

A wince. "It just seems rude?"

"It's not. I'd be concerned if you didn't eat on my account. This is," she shook her head. Made a couple of vague gestures. "I'm used to this. This is just life for me." A short pause. He looked like a confused puppy, but one that was giving her the benefit of the doubt at least. "Does your bathroom have a window?"

"No. No windows in the bathroom, you're good there. Okay." He fixed his hair, the collar of his shirt; not the polo from last night, but an olive green satin that was almost a nightshirt. "I guess I'll just start breakfast for one, and we'll go from there?" He suggested, sighing heavily when she nodded.

"Perfect. I'm going to go freshen up."

Steph escaped into the bathroom. Rinsed her face with some cold water. Breathed through the buzzy anxiety starting to creep into her fingers: this was fine. Sure, she was stuck in some strange guy's apartment until nightfall. And the others didn't know where she was or what had happened, and she didn't have her phone to let them know. 

Bright sides, bright sides: Tom seemed nice. Skeptical maybe, but hearing her out. She could do some chores with him and then maybe watch more movies? That had been nice. This was fine. It'd be fine.

She dried her face. Used the bathroom. Fixed her curls once her hands were clean and dry again. When she came back out the couch cushions were all back in their places. The smell of melting butter hit her first, then onions. Eggs. Paprika. Tom was humming softly over a sizzling fry pan. An apron tied around his waist emphasizing a curve she hastily looked away from.

"You have a nice voice." 

He fumbled with the pepper grinder he'd been grabbing. His hair was pulled back again, exposing the hint of pink rising up his neck as his heartbeat stuttered. 

She forced her eyes away and leaned against the far side of the counter. "Anything I can help out with?"

"You wa- heh, I," he shook his head, "You walk so quiet. Startled me."

"Sorry," she snickered, glancing around and settling on the sink. "I can start dishes while you're cooking, if you want?"

Tom gave her a withering look over his shoulder, stirring whatever he was working on. "You really don't have to."

"I'd like to. I'd feel weird just sitting around while you were doing chores, especially," she made a face. "You didn't exactly ask for all this. I mean neither of us did, but you're being a very good sport about it."

He took a deep breath. "It's thrown me for a little bit of a loop. When you came over I was kind of hoping you'd stay for breakfast," he admitted. The pounding in his chest was loud, she looked at anything else. "And it's not exactly what I was imagining, but I think we can still have a good time."

"I think we can, too," something fluttered in her stomach. She cleared her throat; no need to think about that. "I'm going to do the dishes unless you stop me."

A sputtered protest, "that's not-- my hands are full, that's not fair."

She stuck her tongue out at him, turning on the water to fill up the sink. "Don't burn your eggs please, it'll make the pan more difficult to clean," she teased. Rolled up her sleeves. The dish soap and sponge were conveniently next to the sink. 

Tom muttered about her playing dirty, but dissolved into laughter before he could finish the thought. Steph giggled along as she got to work, listening as he finished cooking. Turned off the stove, scraped the eggs onto a plate. Tentatively set the warm pan off to the side with the rest of the dirty dishes. "Thanks."

"You should eat," she hummed, taking the pan to work on next. "And tell me what other chores we're gonna be working on today."

He sighed. "Dishes were the biggest one," he hummed. Took a bite. "I was thinking about doing the floors today. You know; sweep, vacuum, mop. Maybe dust. And I don't care how insistent you are, I'm not letting you clean my bathroom."

"Alright, alright," she snickered. "Have it your way."

He took a couple more bites, then winced slightly. "And, um. I was going to make bread today, but I don't-"

"Fresh bread's delicious; you should definitely do that."

"And I won't be able to share it with you! I'll feel bad."

"Come on," she teased, flicking a sudsy hand at him. "I'd love to help bake some, at least get to enjoy that process."

He pat at the soap bubble clinging to his apron. Opened his mouth like he was going to protest again, but shifted to let it go. Offered a soft smile. "Alright, alright," he relented. "Let me finish eating first."

By the time she finished up he'd brought the dough together. Turned to her as he rolled his sleeves up, "help me knead?"

"Of course~" 

It was like riding a bike, sticky dough coming together as she found the rhythm again. Tried not to stare at his hands as they worked his portion into something supple and yielding. Bit her lip. "I missed this."

"You bake bread a lot?"

"I used to, ages ago," she shrugged. "Not allowed to eat it anymore so it's been awhile. Suppose I could make some to give away but," she shook her head. "You know."

"Yeah," he hummed softly. A long moment, just the sounds of kneading; the rhythm of breath and heartbeat in sync with hands against dough, dough against counter. "It sounds hard. All this medical stuff, I mean."

Steph took a deep breath. "That's life. Our bodies change, we change; sometimes there's a give and a take." She shrugged. Passed the dough from hand to hand to form a smooth ball. "I wouldn't be where I am without my limitations," she bumped his side, "and I kinda like where I am right now."

His heart stuttered, and she giggled with him. "I think mine is ready to rise; you have a bowl?"

"I- right. A bowl." He grinned, stepping away to grab one. 

They left the bread to rise while sweeping the floors. Tom put on dance music just in time for the vacuum to come out; Steph took the opportunity to sing along while he couldn't quite hear her. Shaped the dough into loaves for the second rise. Danced and dusted. He ate a quick lunch, sharing a bottle of soda with her. Wiped down counters. By the time the oven was pre-heated and the bread ready to go in the apartment was as clean as Steph was allowed to help with. 

Tom set the oven timer, untying his apron and taking the band out of his hair. "Okay, so, we have 40 minutes to kill before they'll be ready to take out. Should we watch a movie?"

"Sounds good to me," she grinned. Leaned back against the couch.

He fixed his hair as he came around. "Any requests? Something you're in the mood for." 

"I'm not sure," she hummed, taking a seat next to him. His pulse sped up just slightly; fuck, it was thrilling every time. "I think I picked the last one, didn't I? Why don't you pick. I trust your taste."

"Okay," he nodded. Clicked through a couple of menus. Tentatively broached, "would it be weird, or too much, if I were to suggest a romance?" 

Steph swallowed. "Is that something that's on your mind?"

"Maybe," he admitted. She could practically feel the heat radiating off him. "Is that okay?"

"It's," she sighed, feeling her own face warming. Fidgeted with the hems of her sleeves. Kept her eyes straight ahead on the television. "It's been awhile for me. I won't pretend it doesn't sound good."

A soft laugh, and he shifted closer. "We're not talking about movies anymore, are we?"

She dared a glance over. Bit her lip. "No," she sighed. Forced a laugh, held herself from shying away. "No, I'm not sure we are anymore."

"Okay," his head bobbed in a nod, eyes wandering over her face. Settled on lips. Flicked back up. "And if I told you I've been wondering about what it'd be like to kiss you?"

"I'd," something in her chest buzzed pleasantly. She couldn't help a glance down at his mouth. "I'd admit that it might've crossed my mind. Once or twice." 

A nod. He shifted closer again, turned, his knee brushing over hers; her heart pounded in her chest. "We could satisfy that curiosity, if you wanted. I'd be more than okay with that."

She took his hands, squeezing softly. "It's been a long time. I mean, a very long time."

"Highschool?" He guessed, and she snickered.

"Something like that." She shook her head. "Go slow with me?"

"As slow as you want," he promised. Hands came up to cup her face; they were warm, soft. She licked dry lips, watched his eyes flick down again. He leaned in, looked back for permission; she gave a slight nod. A thumb ran across her bottom lip, and she pressed into the kiss that followed. 

Soft lips. A slow, gentle kiss. She cupped his face, brushed against the slightest amount of stubble. Moved to soft hair. His hand moved down, then a grip at her waist pulled her closer. Heart beating hard in her chest. Loud in his. A moan. 

When she pulled back to catch her breath he trailed kisses up her jaw, down her throat. She swallowed hard, lifting her chin to give him access. Moaned, twisted fingers in his hair. "Shit~ I-" Imagined teeth, broken skin, warm blood spilling. Pain and panic and bliss. Her breath caught in her throat. She flinched back, ducking her chin to hide her neck. "T-Tom, please,"

"Sorry," he moved away. Smoothed her hair back. "Is this too far?" Voice soft and gravely, dark eyes gentle and caring.

"No, just," she shook her head. Swallowed the memories, the want, back down. "It's okay. Just not my neck. Anywhere but," caught her breath, pressed their foreheads together. "It's more intense than I thought."

"We can stop." He assured, snickering when she peppered kisses over his cheeks. Hands tightened on her waist. "Or we can keep going?"

"I'd like to keep going."

Tom kissed her, long and sweet and yielding when she deepened it. She squeezed his shoulders, twisted fingers in his hair. His trailed up, brushed underneath the hem of her shirt. Pulled away enough to meet her eyes. "Is this okay? Can I take this off you?"

"If we take this off you," she fussed with the buttons on his shirt, biting her lip when undoing it exposed some hair on his chest. Felt the thrum of his heart through his ribs. He laughed, pulling her hands up and kissing her palms. "Fair is fair, right?"

"Fair is fair."

His shirt went first, then hers went over her head. Her fingertips ran though chest hair, traced a soft stomach. He ducked to pepper kisses down her chest, at the edges of a simple black bra. Straddled her waist. She groaned when he pressed her back, moving down her stomach. Buried her hands in his hair.

"Is this okay?" His breath on her waist, fingertips sinking beneath her waistband. 

"Yes, yes, yes." Steph swallowed hard. Lifted her hips when he slipped the material down. "Fuck, Tom," she keened, turning to cover the blush creeping up her face. He moaned, sunk lower, settled on his knees beside the couch. Sucked at her hips. Gently parted thighs. "Tom,"

"You're beautiful~" He paused in his ministrations, looking up at her. "Is this alright? Not too much?" There were goosebumps where his thumbs rubbed over her leg, tracing light scars.

She forced a couple hard breaths. "It's good. It's alright. I- fuck," dissolved into a long sigh when mouth found skin again. A tongue traced her lower lips, around her clit. She balled her hands against the couch cushions. "Fuck."

Steph's head spun as he ate her slowly. She'd been savored before, but not like this. Her hearing caught on his soft groans, on the excited heaving of his chest. The far away sound when she whined his name, when he drew a moan or a pant out of her. On the oven timer beeping and the soft curse that followed. 

He laughed lightly, "oh no~" Leaned his head against her thigh. 

"Come on," she sighed, rubbing her face.

"I know, rude." Tom snickered. Got up, kissed her temple and touched their foreheads together for just a second. "I'll be right back, don't want it to burn. Don't move a muscle."

"I'm moving all my muscles." She huffed. Stretched. Sat up, grabbing the blanket to cover herself. Heard the sink come on and looked back to see him washing his hands. He flicked the water off them, hastily tossed his apron back on, used a tea towel to retrieve the loaf pans from the oven. "They smell good~"

"Look good, too. Just gotta," he turned one of them out, hissing at the heat. Tapped at the bottom, nodding at the hollow sound. "Yeah that's done." Dropped it onto a cooling rack. Then the other. 

Steph watched him, leaning over the back of the couch. "Your bedroom have a window?"

He stopped with the apron halfway off again. "It has blackout curtains."

"That'll work." She hummed. "Should we move over there so you're not kneeling on the floor?" 

"I'd kneel for you anytime~" He smirked, hanging the apron back up.

Snickering, she ducked to hide her face in the couch cushion. Shook her head. "That can't be good for your knees."

"Aw, you're worried about my knees?" He giggled. Washed his hands again. "Let me make sure the curtains are drawn, and we can move to the bed. How far are you okay with going? I do have condoms: latex, and non-latex. Though," he rubbed the back of his neck, "probably should check the expiration before we use them."

She hesitated. "I'm not opposed to that. It's just,"

"Been a long time." He nodded. Bit his lip. "Let's take it a moment at a time. I'll let you know when it's safe to come in." He hummed, slipping into the bedroom. 

Steph sunk into the couch. It felt strange being half-naked, alone on the couch in his living room, listening to him shuffling things around in the bedroom. She checked the time; sun would be setting soon. She'd have to leave and go hunting, check in with B and Anthony. 

"You're all good to come in now," he called. 

A deep breath. Called back, "be right there." Slipped her bra off on the way over. Maybe it'd feel better if she owned her nudity. 

He was seated on the bed when she got in, mouth falling open as she stepped through the door. There were candles lit on the dresser and the bedside table; already the room smelled like almonds and vanilla. "Wow~"

She laughed. Closed the door behind her, joining him on the bed. "It felt weird to be in just the bra. Do you think we could," she picked at his waistband. 

A bark of a laugh, the bite of a lip. "Yeah. Fair is fair, I think." He nodded. Stood, stripped slowly for her. She followed the trail of hair on his stomach down; his heart stuttered at the scrutiny. Sat back next to her. "Maybe we start with kissing again?"

"I'd like that."

This time it was more heated, hungry. Steph traced hands over his chest, his waist. Heard his heart pounding, blood rushing, warmth just under the skin when she pulled away, traced lips over his jaw. He groaned, hand tightening on the back of her neck. She swallowed hard when he leaned his head back: an open invitation, a temptation he didn't understand. 

Ducked to lavish his chest with attention instead. Fingertips traced down her spine; she shivered, moaning openly. Trailed a hand down his stomach, between his legs to be met with a gasp. "Fuck, Steph."

She stole another kiss. Guided a hand up to cup her breast as she stroked; felt him grow warmer, stiffer under the ministrations. His other hand found its way between her legs, thumb circling over her clit. Her knees went weak. "You," she panted, "said you had condoms?"

"Yeah," he swallowed. "You have a preference?"

"No preference." She kissed his cheek. "No allergies to that."

A nod. He moved her off his lap, grabbing one of the condoms he'd set out before. "Missionary?"

"Just come close to me." Steph beckoned, pulling them both to lie down. Helped to slip the condom on, kissing him hard again. He hooked one of her legs over his hip, and she groaned into his mouth when he pressed inside. Leaned her forehead into his, breathing deep as she settled into the feeling.

He kissed her cheek. "Let me know when you're ready."

"I'm ready," she promised, tucking a curl behind his ear. Moaned again when he started moving. Nestled close to him, one hand buried in his hair and the other feeling over his chest. His warm breath cascaded over her shoulder as he settled into a steady rhythm.

Before long the pleasure creeping in her chest made it hard to breathe. "Tom, I," she panted. Clutched him close, pressing him into her neck. Shook as everything spilled over into wave after wave of heat, of pulse, of tension and relaxation. 

He groaned into her, rolled them over; thrust faster, deeper. Cried out when he came undone, trembling and nosing into her shoulder until she calmed enough to let him go. He laughed slightly. "Fuck, Steph." Pulled out. Discarded the condom.

She turned to tuck into his chest. His heartbeat reverberated in her head. Still moving hard, fast; always slightly faster whenever he inhaled, even as things slowly steadied. "That was so good."

"Yeah," he laughed. Kissed her cheek. Fixed her hair gently. "It was amazing." Another kiss, "you're amazing."

"You're amazing." She sighed. Closed her eyes to drink in this moment. Warm bodies, warm breath, soft skin; strong, steady heartbeat. A hand in her hair. A chin tucked against the top of her head. 

Steph couldn't name the length of time that passed; maybe she'd been about to fall asleep again, but when he spoke it startled her. "You should probably go to the bathroom."

"Hm?" She blinked.

"You know," he cringed. Rubbed her back, "so you don't get a UTI?"

She laughed. "Yeah, yeah. Good call." Stretched away from him, shoulders popping. "And it's getting late, huh?" He glanced to the glowing face of an alarm clock, and she followed his eyes; yeah, the sun was definitely set now. "I should probably get home soon. Check in with my roommates, let them know I'm alive."

"Right, right." A slight frown, but a nod. "Probably a good idea. I'm sure they're freaking out."

Steph sat up. Hesitated at the edge of the bed. "I had a really nice time. This has all been," she shook her head. "The best. I haven't had a day like this-"

"In ages?"

She snickered. Grabbed one of the pillows and plopped it over his face. "In ages." He didn't even know. Couldn't even know. She shook her head. "I'm going to go clean up."

"I'll get your clothes together." He offered, pushing the pillow away as he sat up. Caught her hand before she stood, planting a soft kiss against her palm. "Do you think I could get your number?"

She should say no before anything got complicated. Be a one night stand, a passing hurt at worst, a wild story for him to tell the closest of his friends. Anything but a looming threat, a specter of the burden of knowing too much; what other end could this have? "Yeah. I'll find something to write it down on." She forced a smile, pulled her hand away. Left to the bathroom.

It was dark, but the heat from the day hadn't quite evaporated before she made her way home. "Steph!" Anthony called from her usual perch, clamoring down the fire escape to meet up with her at street level. "Hey! What-" she made a face, pulling back from the embrace she'd been going for. "Oh."

She cringed, certain of the lingering smell. "It's a long story."

"I'm sure it is." She shook herself out of it. "Let's get inside before B starts a manhunt."

B was pacing in the living room when they made it in, her cellphone clutched in both of their hands. "Steph! Oh my god!"

"Hey," she waved, shying back when they hurried over. "I hope you weren't too worried."

"You forgot your cellphone, and you didn't come back after hunting; of course we were worried, not that Anthony'll admit it," they made a face when they got close, stepping back. "You smell weird."

Heat rose to her cheeks. "Yeah, um. It's a long story, but I didn't get anything last night-"

"I'm pretty sure you got something," Anthony muttered behind her, barely containing a smirk.

"-so I'm actually gonna go shower, and then I have to go hunting again." She grinned placatingly, starting to step around towards the hall.

B scowled. Looked between her, and Anthony, and her cellphone. "Is that who the fuck Tom is?"

Steph nearly choked. "Have you been reading my texts?"

"You were missing!" They defended. "When your phone buzzed I thought maybe you were trying to get ahold of us! I know you don't know our numbers."

She shook her head. Stepped just close enough to snatch her phone out of their hands. "How did you even get into my phone?"

"Your pin is 1235! It's not as clever as you think."

Anthony snickered by the doorway. "Tom? Is that his name?"

"Oh, shut up," she frowned. Unlocked the phone to see it still open on the new text conversation.

<unknown number> Hey ;) <unknown number> It's Tom btw <unknown number> Text me when you get this, so I know you got back safe? <unknown number> *one photo attachment* (a selfie from his living room) <unknown number> In case you want a photo to use for me

"Alright, alright," Anthony relented. "You shower; I'll go hunting for you tonight, and when I get back we can talk about phone security and how we want to handle not having our cellphones on us going forwards, yeah? Sound good?"

Steph sighed. "Fine, alright." Glanced back at the phone as she made her way to her room to grab her towel. Paused inside, added him as a contact. Texted back.

<Steph> Hey, made it back alright. 

Then, before she could turn back into the hall,

<Tom> Good! I'm glad <Tom> Think we can make plans to meet up again soon?

<Steph> I'll check my schedule

[erodasfishtacos]

would you ever be up to doing a mlbrry helps pregnant yn shave like the ceorry one? i’d like to see how he’d react to that!!

“H, will you come shower with me?” YN asks softly, running her hands over her heavy, baby-filled belly that is starting to get big enough to hurt her back.

“Like y’even ever have to ask,” He replies with a laugh, the three boys were already asleep and he had been lounging on the living room couch.

When they get in there, YN is quieter than she usually is, face tucked into her husband’s neck as the water pounds down on her back.

“Y’belly hurt, mama?” Harry asks, moving down to lift her belly and hold the weight - making her mewl in relief.

“I have a question…” She mumbles, lips dancing against his skin as he feels his baby move a bit in their home.

He just teases his teeth against her lobe, humming to encourage her to keep speaking as he explores her body - even though he knows it like the back of his hand.

“Will you shave me?” YN asks finally, it shouldn’t be embarrassing- especially with Harry. It was more vulnerability that she could shave herself - she’d been able to with the last pregnancy but this bump was by far the biggest.

“No,” Harry replies but it has a whiny edge to it as he glares at her in almost…betrayal?

“You won’t shave me?” YN is a bit confused because Harry was normally willing to do anything for his wife - especially things like this.

“I like tha’ bush, don’t get rid of it, darling,” Harry pouts like a little boy, one of his hands moving past her stomach to slip to pet at the curls on her folds.

YN puffs out a breathy laugh, “Really, H?”

His bottom lip is jutted out as he thumbs over the coarse hair, “Why do y’wanna do that?”

“It’s starting to get itchy and just uncomfortable,” She tells him, leaning forward to kiss that puffy lip as he considers his options.

“Can we make a deal?” Harry proposes, tugging a bit at the hair to make her groan in a mixture of pleasure and pain.

“You want to make a deal about my pubes?” She laments, unamused at his tactics as he gets distracted by where his fingers are.

“Mmm, I’ll shave you if first let m’eat you and rub m’cock on you before it’s gone,” He coerces boyishly as his thick fingers dip inbetween her lips.

Easy compromise.

“As long as you let me sit,” YN agrees, allowing Harry to guide her over to the shower bench and he’s wasting no time getting on his knees in front of her.

“I don’t get it,” YN laughs as he groans at the sight in front of him, like it’s the first time he’s seen her in this way.

“Get wha’?” He replies perplexed.

“How y’are obsessed with everything about me, even my hair,” She laughs, it’s pleased and she feels a happy warmth inside.

He jolts up to kiss her hard on the lips, “Everything about y’gets me going, sweet thing. S’a miracle I’m not hard every second of the day around you.”

Her husband had to duck underneath the bump but his teeth find the short hairs and nips at them to give her that bit of pain she always loves.

But he can only tease her (himself) so long before he’s nestling his tongue inbetween her damp folds and lapping hungrily at her clit - basking in the prickly hair that’s rubbing against his lips.

“Ooo-Harry, yes baby,” YN moans, she goes to weave her hands in his hair but can’t reach so instead she has to test them on her belly.

He doesn’t stop until she’s quaking and coming down from her high, it really shouldn’t be that sexy that he has a bit of friction burn on his upper lip.

Then Harry’s mandhandling her until he’s balanced over her, her legs spread as much as she can at this point, and with her arousal as his lubricant he starts rutting himself against her mound.

“S’so fuckin’ hot, gonna make you grow it out again,” Harry growls, buttoning their lips together as his sensitive tip pushes through the downy prickles of hair.

When he’s close, he pulls back, jerking himself until he spills onto her folds and he just makes a mess out of her.

“Fuckin’ hell, mama,” He pants, curiously rubbing it into the skin and wiry curls, “Y’so god damn hot.”

YN, who’s now sex-hazy and tired, complains at him to clean her off (after he darts out of the shower to grab his phone and snap a picture).

He does, kneeling again and lathering her up in a shave cream, snatching the razor of the shelf, “S’like a funeral, I’m mournin’.”

“I promise after the baby is born that I will grow it out especially for you,” She laughs, hiding and palming her belly when there a light kick.

“Is m’baby awake?” He wonder, palming at her tight skin and feels a flutter, “There’s m’bubby.”

“Hurry up, I’m getting pruny!”

“Can I shave a shape into it? Like a baseball or summat?” Harry asks hopefully but huffs in defeat when she glares at him.

After she’s bare, skin smooth and free of prickly hair, Harry presses a few damp kisses to her mound and then up her belly to her mouth.

“Wipe that pout off your face,” YN giggles, pinching at his bottom lip, “You legitimately have had me hairy, prickly, shaved, waxed..”

“And the bush had grown on me!” Harry defends, “But y’pussy is pretty however y’given it to me, mama.”

“Thanks, baby daddy,” She replies with a pat to his cheek and doesn’t miss the soft smile he gives her before helping her stand up.

“Mmm, yeah. I am y’baby daddy,” He agrees with a happy rumble, hands coming to rub the sides of her extended stomach, “C’mon, gotta get m’wife and baby t’bed.”

—

😋😋😋😋😋😋😋

[nsheetee]

109 Steps To You

this is a part of the “almost” collaboration hosted by @hyucksie​

Pairing: Haechan x Reader Genre: romance, fluff, angst, mature content, soulmate!AU, college!AU Length: 19k Summary: Everyone is born with two marks on their body: one that is identical to your soulmate’s, and one that is identical to the person who will cause you immense pain. No one knows which mark means what until they live out their life and meet the people destined to bring them love and hurt. However, you were only born with one mark. Out of all the places you thought you would meet the person with the mark identical to yours, you never thought it would be on your first day of college. Warnings/Details: female reader, mentions of other nct members (and yuqi from g-idle), explicit sex (unprotected + the consequences that come with it), mentions of a dysfunctional family, swearing

— read epilogue here

a/n: if you’re a minor: beware! there is explicit and mature content in this fic.

“I want to thank you guys, again, for helping me out today.” You shyly announce to the table, swirling your spoon through your froyo and glancing back and forth between the other people sitting before you.

“Oh, it’s no problem, we weren’t doing anything today anyway.” Xiaojun softly knocks his elbow into yours, sending a reassuring smile your way. If it wasn’t for Xiaojun, an old childhood friend, you weren’t sure how moving into your dorm room and getting settled into campus would’ve gone; you would probably still be a mess right now.

“He’s right. Plus, I really wanted to meet the girl Jun kept raving about, he wouldn’t stop talking about how much we would like you-” Mark’s comment is quickly cut off, a thud under the table and a pained look on Mark’s face giving away that Xiaojun just kicked him.

“I just hope I lived up to the hype.” You laugh at their antics.

“Oh, definitely,” Yuqi quickly buts in before Mark can retaliate back at Xiaojun, “And I live a few floors below you, so just let me know if you need anything at all.” She adds on, her warm deposition and all around friendliness from today making you let out a small sigh of relief, some stress falling off your shoulders when you realize just how many people around you are here to help you out.

“I appreciate it so much, really.” You lean away from Xiaojun and Mark, closer to Yuqi and Lucas who are sitting on the other side of the table, “By the way, I love your guys’ marks. They look so good on both of you.”

At your comment, Lucas puts down his phone and gently grabs Yuqi’s hand, their matching chamomile flower marks touching as their fingers intertwine. You almost didn’t notice their matching marks earlier today when they were helping you set up your dorm room, but when you did, you couldn’t help but stop what you were doing and stare at their hands. Such a simple mark has never looked so pretty to you, maybe it’s because Lucas and Yuqi made such a good pair that their fated marks looked so right for them.

“I still wish I got a cool dragon mark down my back, but I’ll let Jun be the one to deal with that in this life.” Lucas smirks at Xiaojun, who just rolls his eyes at Lucas’ fake jealousy. “Yours looks good, too.” He finishes and glances down at your left hand. There, a dragonfly mark stains your skin, the long tail trailing over your thumb and the wings spreading out over the back of your hand and your wrist.

“Thank you.” Your reply is genuine, however you can’t help but remember the solemn fact that surrounds your mark, your voice inadvertently dipping down as your eyes trace over the wings of your dragonfly.

“So, what kind of classes are you taking this semester?” Xiaojun changes the subject, no doubt hearing the lament in your voice.

“Oh, just some required classes. Nothing for my major, really, except Intro to Ethics for my humanities credit.” You reply as casually as you can to bring the mood at the table back up, but your comment makes Yuqi gasp and all four pairs of eyes at the table turn to you. You slouch in your seat at their sudden attention on you.

“Why would you do that to yourself?”

“What is wrong with you?”

“Do you know your advisor's email? Let’s send them a message right now to get you out-”

“Stop.” You shake your head, laughing a bit at the overreaction from your new friends, “What’s wrong with Ethics?”

“It’s in the Hauss building.” Xiaojun says as if you should already know what that means. You roll your lips in and shake your head; you do not know what that means at all.

“It’s the building all the way on top of the big hill on the west side of campus, by the auditorium.” Xiaojun explains more.

“They only teach three classes over there: Ethics and Music Theory 3 and 4.” Mark sets down his melted froyo, not realizing he has some sticking to his upper lip.

“I’m failing to see what’s so horrible about that?”

“When Xiaojun says it’s a big hill, he means it’s a really big hill-”

“Didn’t someone count the steps once and it came out to be, like, close to 100?” Lucas asks, one hand still tangled with Yuqi’s and the other now rapidly slurping his triple chocolate froyo.

“That was me, and it’s 109 steps.” Mark shutters, “I took Music Theory 3 last year and I ended up skipping half of the time because I couldn’t find the energy to climb up and down those steps three times a week.”

“Why 109? Aren’t groups of steps usually in even numbers? That’s not very architecturally smart.” Yuqi purses her lips and her eyebrows screw together.

“Screw architecture. Are you telling me I’ll have to climb up and down 109 stairs three times a week just to go to Ethics?” You can already feel a headache growing at the back of your head when you think about the complications of dealing with this big staircase. You needed that class for your major, and you thought it was going to be a class that you could pass with flying colors, but it seems like it might just be a nuisance to you more than an easy A.

“Talk to your advisor. Try to drop out and take a different class. Trust me, 109 steps don’t seem like much until you actually have to climb them.” Mark gives you his piece of advice, sticking his spoon filled with froyo into his mouth and then immediately scrunching his eyes and mumbling about brain freeze.

You’ll have to send an e-mail to your advisor real quick, but for your first day of classes tomorrow, you’ll just have to deal with those 109 steps.

The walk to your ethics class the next morning is very calming, the university’s nice landscaping and the warm weather calming your nerves down for your first day of classes. When you round the corner of the stonewall you had been following, you’re met with the infamous set of steps.

You have to crane your neck to look up at the top of the staircase, your jaw slightly dropping at how steep of a hill the stairs were built on. There are other students around you walking up and down the staircase, their headphones shoved in their ears and their heads down as they make the climb to and from class.

The stonewall you had been following all the way here continues up the staircase on your right and on the left is a thick wall of trees, their branches hanging over the stairs and giving protection from the sunlight to the students below. You begin to count every step on your way up; four regular steps, the fifth one a bit longer than the rest, and then repeat. It’s not that you don’t trust Mark’s words when he said there’s 109 steps, you just want to count for yourself.

You hear some rowdy boys coming down the stairs, but the noise is not enough to pull your head up from the ground or to stop you from counting, until you’re forcefully pushed into the stone wall on your right. Breathing in through your teeth sharply, your left hand clutches your collarbones where the pain is the worst.

“Oh, my god. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to push you.” The guy laughs through his words, a high-pitched and almost squeaky laugh, making him sound not as sincere as he probably meant to be. When you turn to face him, the first thing you notice are his eyes. Chocolate colored and almond shaped, some laugh lines showing from the remnants of his shenanigans with his friends.

Looking back, you realize you fell in love with his eyes first. How they don’t hold back from showing any emotion, and the mischievousness they hold no matter what.

Even when his smile falls, his face looks pretty; long hair hanging down over his forehead and ears, and plump lips spreading into an ‘o’ shape as he looks at your dragonfly. Every line and detail is just the same as his own, as if fate spent a little more time with you two to make sure you know you’re each other’s soulmate the moment you meet.

“Your mark…” The man points at your hand, and that’s when you realize who you’ve just met. His brilliant eyes fill with excitement and he starts to breath harder, taking a step back from sheer surprise that you’re here. His soulmate. His one and only for the rest of this life.

However it all fades away the moment you drop your hand from your collarbones, stepping past him to continue up the staircase.

“Next time, watch where you’re going.” The first words you ever say to him are filled with so much indifference that Haechan can only follow your back with his eyes, his jaw slack and his hand still reaching out for you.

“Hey, wait-” Haechan is about to run after you, but he’s held back by Renjun, his best friend and the one who pushed Haechan into you in the first place.

“Was that-” Renjun begins, holding onto his friend’s elbow as he also watches you walk up the rest of the 109 steps.

“Yeah… Why did she ignore me like that? She saw that I have the same mark. We’re soulmates!” Haechan almost cries out in confusion, his heart and mind in a mess. Can you blame him? He’s been waiting to meet his soulmate since he knew what the dragonfly on his hand meant. Haechan has never been a patient person, and even waiting several years for you to come to him was testing him. Now that you’re here, he isn’t going to let you go easily.

As Haechan begins to walk back up the staircase to follow you, not caring about his Literature class in 15 minutes, Renjun’s grip on him tightens and pulls him back.

“You can’t just go harass her about this.”

“I’m not going to harass her. I just want to talk.” Haechan tries to pull out of Renjun’s grip again, but the little man has the sturdiness of a boulder and pulls his friend back.

“Maybe she doesn’t want a soulmate?” Renjun and Haechan stop their tug of war at Jaemin’s words. He had been leaning against the handrail by the trees the whole time while watching the scene unfold in front of him, his arms crossed over his chest and his baseball cap covering his eyes. “It’s not that uncommon these days.”

Haechan and Renjun let go of each other at their friend’s words. Jaemin sends them a bitter smile and all three of them recall the incident that happened last year when Jaemin met his own soulmate:

A rejection.

Jaemin took it hard; if it hadn’t been for his best friends, he doesn’t know where he would be in life right now. Jaemin can’t help but let the memories surface as he continues to walk down the stairs, slower than before, his head bowed and his hands shoved into his pant pockets. Renjun sends Haechan a look that tells him to not push the situation further, following Jaemin down the stairs.

Haechan sends your retreating figure one last look, watching you reach the top of the staircase and walk into the Hauss building. He retreats and follows his friends dejectedly, the promise of you showing up on this staircase at the same time on Wednesday being the only thing that lets his legs follow his friends down the stairs.

“Hey, ___, come in.” Mark smiles brightly when he recognizes you at the door, stepping aside to let you into the dorm room. “Xiaojun is in the shower still… Will you be okay by yourself if I leave?” He looks unsure as you set your backpack down on Xiaojun’s desk chair.

“Oh, I’ll be fine. You do whatever you need to.” You state and then plop down onto your friend’s bed. You hear Mark laugh and say something about how all the first years look tired at the end of their first day and then leaves the room, shutting the door behind him. You lay sprawled out on the bed, the only sounds surrounding you is the water from the shower and the ticking of the analog clock on the wall.

Even though the whole ordeal happened several hours ago, you haven’t been able to get the moment you met your soulmate out of your mind. It was almost impossible for you to turn around and walk away. Even now, your feet still itch to go back to that staircase and find the sweet looking guy who you no doubt left confused.

However, you can’t do that— you won’t let yourself do that. And that’s partially why you’re in Xiaojun’s dorm room after your last class today: so that he can knock some sense into you.

The shower turns off and a few moments later, the bathroom door opens and Xiaojun steps out. He has a towel wrapped around his waist and a smaller one on his shoulders to catch the droplets from his hair; when he sees you laying on his bed, he jumps in fright.

“Good, God,” He sighs and clutches his bare chest with one hand, the other protectively going to the towel around his waist. “Can you say something the next time you come over? I almost had a heart attack because of you.” He walks over to his closet on the other side of the room, rummaging through some clothes as you sit up.

“Sorry, I thought you heard the door open…” You trail off, getting distracted by Xiaojun’s mark. The dragon on his back is huge, taking up most of the area and spreading to his shoulders and upper arms, too. However, that’s not the mark that caught your attention. Right on his ankle sits a three-leaf clover, so small and such a stark difference from the monster drawn on his back.

You’re pulled away from your thoughts when Xiaojun turns around and walks back into the bathroom, this time leaving the door open, “So, how was your first day?”

“Oh, well, it was okay…” You trail off, speaking a bit louder so that he could hear you from the other room. You stand up and start pacing in the space between Mark’s and Xiaojun’s beds, a nervous habit of yours.

“But? I know there’s a ‘but’ somewhere.” Xiaojun replies.

“Well, something happened…” You trail off, not sure how to make the words leave your mouth yet.

“What is it?” You swallow at the question, your throat dry and hands clammy. You must’ve been taking a long time to answer because Xiaojun walks out of the bathroom, now fully clothed, and stares at your pacing form. “What’s wrong, ___.”

“I met him.” You say simply, hoping Xiaojun gets what you mean, but he doesn’t. You sigh and sink down to the floor slowly, catching yourself on Xiaojun’s bed. The action makes his eyes widen in fear and he crosses the room in a few short strides, kneeling down next to you and searching your eyes for the answer.

“What? What is it?”

“The person with the same mark as me. I met him.”

“... Oh.”

Xiaojun slowly slides down onto his butt in front of you, folding his legs. He’s not sure what to say, or how to comfort you in anyway. He didn’t expect to be the only person around that you trust when something like this happens. He sees the lost look in your eyes and slides towards you to pull you into a hug.

Unlike Xiaojun, and most people in the world, you do not have two marks.

Xiaojun’s dragon and clover match with two different people in this world; one who will be his soulmate and the other who will bring him immense pain. Everyone has two marks— except you; it even states it on your birth certificate, your parents can testify that they’ve never seen a second mark on you, just the lonely dragonfly that spreads its wings over your left hand.

When you were younger, you were curious about what it meant to only have one mark. The people around you always had two marks, the people on the TV shows you liked to watch always had two marks, even anatomy books have depictions of humans with two marks. Why were you different? What did it mean?

After gathering up the guts to type the question into the Google search engine, you found your answers, and it changed your thoughts on your one and only mark forever. The people in the world who only had one mark testified to the same story online: the person who’s mark matched theirs were both their soulmate and the person who hurt them the most.

After learning about that, you promised yourself that if you ever met the person with the same mark as you, you would not meddle with them in any way if they were only destined to bring you pain in the end.

If you knew jumping off a bridge would definitely kill you, you wouldn’t jump, right?

Xiaojun is the only person, other than your parents, who knows about the situation. Which is why when he hugs you, you lean into him and accept his comfort.

“Tell me what you’re thinking about. You must have so many questions.” He mumbles into your hair.

“Not questions. I’m just curious about what I am to him.” You reply, whispering into Xiaojun’s shoulder.

“About what you are to him?”

“I know he’ll be the person I’m meant to love the most, and also the person who will hurt me the most. But am I the one that’s supposed to love him or the one that’s supposed to hurt him?”

“Lots of people say that they can feel it when they meet. Like Lucas, he said he instantly knew Yuqi was supposed to be his soulmate.” Xiaojun thinks back to all the people who have told him the exact same thing, even his parents.

“The guy… he kept calling me his soulmate. He sounded so sure about it, too.” You lean away from Xiaojun to look into his big and curious eyes.

“What about you? What did you feel?” He asks.

“It felt… like I left a part of myself with him.” Xiaojun’s eyes widened at that, “Is that crazy? I was only around him for a minute, maybe less, and I can’t stop thinking about how I never wanted to leave. It was so hard to walk away from him..” You trail off, feeling tears suddenly gather at the edges of your eyes.

“Xiaojun…” The edge in your voice makes him grab a hold on your hands, “I don’t want him to hurt me. I’m not ready for it.”

“Hey, hey…” Xiaojun squeezes your hands before gently guiding your face to his, meeting his eyes with your own, “He’ll hurt you eventually, yeah, but he’ll also be the person who is supposed to love you unconditionally. The person who is going to know you so well, better than yourself. Maybe you should see where he takes you in life? Destiny still wanted you to meet each other no matter what the end game is going to be… Are you really going to tell fate to fuck off?”

“Can’t I?” Your response makes Xiaojun laugh, which he apologises for laughing in a serious situation right after, but the mood is already broken and you laugh at yourself a bit as well.

“C’mon, let’s order something to eat and get your mind off of this, even if it’s just for a few hours.” Xiaojun pulls you off of the floor and reaches for his phone, trying to find the phone number to his favorite delivery place.

You sit on his bed once again, your hands limp in your lap and so much appreciation for Xiaojun in your chest. You probably would’ve gone insane if he wasn’t here for you. His suggestion on giving the guy you met today a chance plays like a record in your head, but the record scratches when you remember the promise you made to yourself a long time ago.

Don’t mess with him. He will only bring you pain in the end.

On Wednesday, Haechan is the first one out of his seat in his Music Theory 3 class, not even waiting for the slow Renjun and even slower Jaemin before sprinting out of the classroom and outside, waiting at the top of the staircase for your figure to appear at the bottom.

Students float up and down the stairs, but he doesn’t see you anywhere amongst them. Eventually, Renjun and Jaemin catch up to him, standing behind him and also staring down the long staircase.

“C’mon, Haechan, we need to go to our next class.” Renjun is the first one to step down, followed by Jaemin. Haechan takes a good look at everyone’s faces on his way down, getting some weird looks sent his way for staring, but he doesn’t care.

“Haechan.” Jaemin suddenly calls out, making his friend turn suddenly to look at him. Jaemin only nods his head to the bottom of the stairs where you just turned the corner. Despite his hurry from before, Haechan stops at the sight of you. His usual confidence is lost when he sees you climb the stairs. Now, he’s not sure if he should approach you.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Renjun nudges Haechan, but the younger only turns around to look at his friend.

“I don’t know what to say to her. What do I say to make her see I’m her soulmate?” Haechan asks, helplessness seeping into his words.

Renjun rolls his eyes; whenever his best friend needs to be the usual confident man he is, that’s when the confidence is most likely to drain out of him. Renjun shakes Haechan’s shoulders with a tight grip on his jacket, making some more people send the two of them some weird looks.

“She’s your soulmate, right? Fate already gave you everything you need to know about how to talk to her.” Renjun then pushes his friend towards your direction, “But for the love of god, don’t harass her.” Renjun ends with a pointed look and continues walking with Jaemin down the stairs.

Haechan slowly makes his way to you, crossing over to the middle of the staircase and stopping you in your tracks. You look up to inspect who it is that just stopped in front of you, and your surprise fades when you realize it’s the same guy from Monday.

“Hi.” He says simply. You only nod your head, lips pursed, and then move around him to continue walking to class.

“Wait…” Haechan calls after you, but you don’t stop this time. So Haechan keeps walking after you, only one step behind, “I’m not sure if you’re aware, but you’re my soulmate. I’ve been waiting for you for so long—” You sharply turn to face him, making Haechan cut off and tilt his head up to look at you.

“How do you know I’m your soulmate? What if I’m not?” You ask. Haechan shakes his head softly at that, his golden hair moving over his sun-kissed skin as he does.

“That’s not possible.”

“How do you know?” You ask. Haechan loves how curiosity burns in your eyes. He takes longer than normal to speak only so that he can look over your features and memorize them to the best of his ability. Last night, he tried to recall your face but the image came out so blurry since he only saw you for a moment on Monday. He wants to clearly remember what you look like.

“How about I take you somewhere, and then I’ll tell you?” The proposition stuns you, and your burning curiosity makes you want to say yes. However, going anywhere with him would be breaking your promise to yourself, so you decide to forget it.

“Nevermind…” You mumble, turning around to walk up the stairs again.

“You seem like you really want to know how I’m sure we’re soulmates… Aren’t you curious?” Haechan asks, making you stop in your tracks again. This man has only known you for a day, only talked to you for a few moments, yet he already knows how to get you to do something. “I promise I won’t hurt you, and I’m not lying either.”

You take a moment to think about the proposition. You’re really curious about how he’s so sure that you’re soulmates. Sure, you know you’re soulmates, but why is he so sure you aren’t the person who’s supposed to hurt him? You consider taking up the offer, but can you stay strong to your own promise while being close to him?

Curiosity wins, and you turn back around to face him, nodding and making him smile widely. There’s that crinkle in his eyes again, that sparkle against the sun that makes saying yes to him so much more worth it.

“My friends call me Haechan, but you can call me Donghyuck. That’s my real name.” He sticks out his hand for you to shake. You once heard that physical touch brings soulmates together quicker; you’re not sure if that’s true, but you don’t want to test it.

“I’m ___.” You nod at him and grip onto your backpack straps instead of accepting his handshake.

“Haechan, hurry up or we’ll be late!” You both hear Renjun shout out from the bottom of the stairs, “And on our second day, too.” You hear him groan.

“Okay, ___, I’ll see you here at 7pm tomorrow night.” Haechan turns around to run back to his friends, sending you one last wave goodbye and almost tripping down the stairs as he does.

You take a deep breath and turn around to walk up the rest of the steps. You’re unsure if you did the right thing by agreeing to see him tomorrow night, but the deed is now done, and you can only wait for Donghyuck to quench your curiosity.

As promised, you meet Donghyuck at 7 o’clock sharp the next day. He’s already waiting for you at the bottom of the stairs.

“So, where are you taking me?” You ask after saying your hello’s.

“It’s a surprise.” He smiles and nods his head to make you follow him. He leads you through parts of campus you haven’t seen yet, the buildings looking older and older the further down the path you walk. Soon, Donghyuck takes a sharp turn into what looks like the middle of the forest but is really just a small, hidden extension of the trail.

Under a canopy of tall trees that wave with the wind to you and Donghyuck, there is a skinny trail that leads to glimmering water. It draws you in, your curiosity struck and your feet now moving on their own accord. Bushes tickle your ankles and the smell of some sort of flower you cannot identify floods your senses, but you can only keep walking towards the sparkling water.

The scene in front of you takes your breath away, a crisp gasp that you have no control over leaves your lips. The pond before you is big, stretching further than what you can see. The water is blue and the setting sun’s light reflects off of it to create rippling sparkles. There are some lily pads floating around, their flowers gone due to the temperature dropping recently.

You didn’t even notice that you stopped walking, your eyes wide as you take in the scenery before you. You almost forget who you’re with and why you came, but Donghyuck doesn’t let that happen. You snap out of it when he continues to walk along the trail that leads around the pond. You walk alongside Donghyuck, a few feet away with your hands awkwardly tucked into your pockets.

“C’mon, let’s sit.” He motions to a weeping willow tree. It’s tall and the branches sway pleasantly in the wind, completely unaware and indifferent to the years of history in the area. Underneath the tree is a sturdy bench, you sit on the left side while Donghyuck sits on the right side. Then, you both take a few moments to stare at the mesmerizing water that led you all the way to this seemingly magical place.

“Why did you bring me here?” You ask after a bit.

“Do you not like it?” Donghyuck asks back.

“No.” You quickly reply, looking over his side profile before turning back to the water, “I’m just curious.”

“Something in me knew you would like this place, that’s all.” Donghyuck replies while trying to hide his proud smile, looking down at the grass. “You’re curious about a lot of things, huh?”

“Yeah, I can’t help it. There’s just so much I want to know.” It’s easy to talk to him, a bit too easy. You have to keep reminding yourself that you’re supposed to have your guard up in front of him, but it’s proving harder than you thought it would be.

“Like how I’m sure that you’re my soulmate and not the person who is supposed to hurt me?” Donghyuck leans his weight away from you, his eyebrow cocked in a question. You nod your head lightly, playing with your hands on your lap.

“It’s because I’ve already met the person who’s supposed to bring me pain. I’ve already been hurt.” At his words, surprise fills you up and you turn your head to look him straight in the eye.

For some reason, you always thought that when people meet the person who brings them the largest amount of pain to their life, they couldn’t be the same ever again. How does one get hurt so badly, and still live on?

There are so many ways to hurt someone. Some people become bankrupt, some people lose all of their belongings, some people are even physically hurt by the person who has the same mark as them. How does a person go through any of that and still be themselves afterwards? More importantly, how did Donghyuck go through immense pain and still be able to smile at you like he is right here, right now?

“Here.” He begins to explain, pushing his pants around until you can see his second mark through one of the holes in his jeans, a sunflower on his knee, “My dad had the same mark as me.”

“Your…. Dad?” You ask, still confused.

“Mhmm,” He nods, now tracing the petals of the sunflower mark absentmindedly, “My parents immediately knew something was wrong when I was born. Why would a son and dad have the same mark? When I was growing up, he worked a lot, so I spent lots of time with my mom and grew closer to her. I don’t remember much from that time, but I do remember we were happy. We didn’t have a lot, but we had each other; that kind of feeling.” He looks over at you to see if you’re keeping up with the story. To Donghyuck’s surprise, you already have tears lining your eyes.

“Then one day, Dad comes home and tells us he lost his job. I remember my parents fought a lot the few weeks after that happened, mostly about how to raise me if they had no income. Dad would go out and look for work, but always came back with no luck. So eventually, my mom started working. For a while, the reason we could keep living was because of her.” Donghyuck swallows and pauses for a moment before continuing.

“And then one night, dad came home and told us he gambled. Everything, he gambled everything away. Even the little that we had, it wasn’t ours anymore. That night, my dad told me I was a mistake. My parents never meant to have me, and he said…” Donghyuck purses his lips for a moment. It had been a while since he thought about this. The scar on his heart still hurts when he picks at it. “... He said that he wished I had never been born. Then, we wouldn’t have been in that mess.”

“How old were you?” You speak up after a moment.

“Seven? Or eight.” He nods and sniffs his nose, looking down at his knee. The whole day, Donghyuck was preparing himself to tell you this story. He felt that the only way to get close to you was to open up like this first, to show you that he isn’t someone scary or bad. To Donghyuck’s surprise, telling this story hurts less now than it did earlier in this life. Maybe that means time is working, and his heart is being mended bit by bit.

Donghyuck leans his elbows against his knees, looking at the water once again while waiting for you to say anything. Are you still curious? What do you think of him now?

He was in no way prepared to feel your arms wrap around his waist in a hug, your head resting against his shoulder and your chest pressed against his side. He freezes for a moment, and then melts into your embrace completely. He’s overcome with lovesick softness for you, lightly griping the part of your arm that’s across his chest as his head turns to the side to press a kiss to the top of your head. It’s so quick that you don’t even have time to move away or to react. You just let it happen, as it’s supposed to be.

“You said that something in you knew I would like this place,” You mumble against him. He hears your voice straining with emotion, “Well, something in me knows that you need this right now.”

You and Donghyuck sit there until the sparkling water is no longer fueled by the sun’s light, but by the moon’s. It seems as though now you’ve touched Donghyuck, you never wanted to stop. You’re almost one hundred percent sure that it’s because of the soulmate bond, and a part of you nags at yourself for already chipping away at the promise you made to yourself when you were younger.

However, younger you never knew what it would be like to have a person sit in front of you and share a part of his past with you in an act of confidence and security. Your younger self never knew what it would be like to feel the same pain as someone else, and the pull you felt to touch him after sensing that physical affection would help ease that pain away.

Your younger self had no idea it was this easy to fall into a person, especially when you know they’ll catch you.

“God, I’m so sick and tired of Accounting. ___, I’m quitting school.” Xiaojun gravely tells you, his eyes not wavering from his computer screen.

“Shut up and do your homework, Jun.” You mumble, your eyes not leaving your own computer screen as you type up your Ethics essay. Three weeks into school and you’re already fully emerged in your classes. The newness of college has faded and now it’s time to start the next four years of studying endlessly for the future.

“Are you guys… okay? You haven’t moved over there in a few hours.” Mark asks from the other side of the room where he’s doing his own homework. He eyes you and your best friend from where you’re sitting on his bed, “Are you even comfortable?”

You and Xiaojun are sharing a blanket, he’s leaning against his headboard and you’re leaning against the wall. Your legs are thrown over his and several textbooks are scattered over the blanket. You’re not even sure which of these books are yours or his, or which papers laying in messy stacks belong to who.

“Yeah, I think we’re okay. We’ve been studying like this since high school.” Xiaojun answers, his fingers moving along his keyboard at the same time. You nod at Mark and he shakes his head, not understanding you two but accepting the answer.

You’re over at the guys’ dorm room enough that Mark is not surprised to see you here anymore, hanging out with Xiaojun or waiting for him to come back from class. It’s not that you don’t like your own dorm room, but it’s always so quiet in there since your roommate always studies at the library. You only hear her come into the room late at night when you’re on the verge of sleep, and when she leaves early in the morning before your alarm rings. Weekends are the same. You don’t really care, but you’ve started to hate the quiet, so you’re glad that Mark and Xiaojun don’t mind you chilling here.

“Argh,” Mark yawns and stretches after a few minutes, throwing his computer to the side and standing up, “I’m getting some snacks from the vending machine. You guys want anything?”

After you and Xiaojun answer with simultaneous shakes of your heads, which creeps Mark out, he leaves the room to get food. The room is silent for a few more moments until Xiaojun angles the lid of his laptop down to look at you.

“So… How’s the guy?”

“What guy?” You ask, still preoccupied with your essay.

“Your soulmate, ___, what other guy is there?” Xiaojun answers exasperatedly, “You never told me his name, so I don’t know what to call him. Actually, I haven’t heard you talk about him since the first day of classes. I was hoping you’d tell me what happened with him, but I guess I have to go digging up your dirt myself.” He rolls his eyes.

“His name is Haechan.” You answer, moving your computer to the side, “And I haven’t said anything to you about him because… I haven’t seen him in weeks.” You admit quietly.

“Huh? Didn’t you say you were meeting up so he could tell you why he’s sure you’re his soulmate?” You nod your head at the question, “So, what happened after that?”

“Well… I kinda, maybe, sort of…. have been avoiding him.” You answer quietly, stealing a glance at your best friend to see him staring at you blankly. When he sighs and reaches for his pillow, your eyes widen and you hold up your hands in front of you, spewing pleas and ‘wait’s. Xiaojun doesn’t care, though, flinging his pillow from behind him and into your face.

“Ow?” You whine after the pillow makes contact with your head and forces you to turn to face the other way, “Was that necessary?” You rub your nose, the part of your face that hurts worse from his attack. You’re used to Xiaojun doing this to you whenever you did something that both of you know you shouldn’t have so that you can “get some sense knocked into you, hopefully.”

“You’re so dumb. So, so dumb. Why would you avoid him.” It’s not a question, more of a confused statement to the general air. “You realize people would kill to meet their soulmate, right? People would do anything to be in your position, but you just hide away?”

“People would do anything to meet their soulmate, but people would also do anything to stay away from the person who shares their other mark.” You retaliate, “You don’t understand. To me, Haechan is both of those people.”

“There you go again, worrying about the future when you’re not even sure about what is going to happen. When will you stop worrying about something you can’t control and start thinking about today?” Xiaojun sounds so tired talking about this topic, a conversation you’ve had many times in your friendship. You wonder if he’s so tired of it, why he keeps bringing it up himself.

Before you can answer, the door to the room opens and Mark walks in, several snacks in his arms, “Hey, everyone, I hope it’s okay I brought a friend. He’s in the same major as me, just a year younger—”

“___?” Mark stops talking when his friend speaks, surprised that he already knows one of the people in the room. Your eyes widen, jaw slackening as you’re unable to even let out a peep from your mouth.

“You know each other?” Mark asks, looking between his two friends.

“Yeah, you could say I know my soulmate.” Donghyuck replies, making both Xiaojun and Mark’s eyes widen. You suddenly realize the situation you’re in: under a blanket with Xiaojun, your pajamas on, and your soulmate in front of you after you ghosted him for weeks. For the first time in a while, your eyes meet.

Donghyuck is mad. You can tell by how his fists are clenched and his jaw is tightened. Slowly getting out of the bed, you try to form some words, but Donghyuck snaps and walks over to you quickly. Grabbing your hand, he pulls you out of the room and down the hallway until you get to the lounge area. When you reach the empty room, that’s when you come to your senses.

“Donghyuck,” You pull your arm out of his, making him turn to face you, “I’m not even wearing shoes.” You hiss, pointing down to your feet as if to prove some point.

“What was all that?” He disregards your comment and hisses back at you, stepping closer so that you’re barely a few inches apart. “You were under a blanket. With some guy. Don’t you feel wrong doing that?” He asks, his hands now on his hips. You feel slightly like you’re being lectured to.

“That guy is my best friend.” You spit out.

“So, do you go around and do that to all of your guy friends?” Donghyuck chuckles vehemently, you can tell he’s angry and jealous, and that those emotions are clouding his brain at the moment. That doesn’t mean his words don’t hurt, though.

���Xiaojun and I have been best friends since we were in diapers. I’ve known you for three weeks, barely. I’m more comfortable around him than I am with you. You think just because I’m your soulmate, I’ll automatically trust you and we’ll all of a sudden be a happy couple? It doesn’t work like that, Donghyuck. I don’t even know you.” You can tell you hurt him by your last words because he turns silent, his shoulders slouching and his anger subsiding.

You can tell you hurt him, hard, because you feel the hurt, too.

It makes you realize how scary the bond between soulmates is. Even though you and Donghyuck haven’t spent that much time together to strengthen your bond, it’s still strong enough to allow you to feel his emotions. It makes you wonder if Donghyuck will be able to feel your pain in the future when he hurts you, like he’s destined to.

“Have you even tried to get to know me? You’ve been avoiding me ever since I took you to the pond.” At his comment, you fold your arms over your chest and look away, not ready to answer that question.

“I’m… just scared, is all.” You manage to reply. Although not the complete truth, it’s not a total lie. Donghyuck completely softens at your words, his close proximity to you feels less threatening and turns into something more gentle. His hand softly slips into yours, but this time with a lighter touch than before.

“You don’t have to be scared, not around me. I’m new to this too, so I don’t know how it all works yet, but this is something we can figure out together. That’s what we were fated to do.” Donghyuck can feel his words pulling you closer to him, he can feel you on the edge and he’s ready to catch you with his arms wide open.

But in the last second, you take a step back and slip your hand out of his, making his drop limply to his sides. You send him a look, something he can’t read, and then turn around and walk back to the dorm he pulled you out of.

He almost had you, almost.

When midterms come around, you use your upcoming tests and projects as a way to dive deep into your work so that you don’t have to think about Donghyuck. It’s a good plan overall, however your friends quickly start worrying for you and your health. Staying up late several nights in a row and not even being able to remember when the last time you ate is where Xiaojun pulled the plug on your bad studying habits. He confiscated your backpack and dropped you off in front of your dorm building with the promise that you’ll have all of your things back tomorrow morning only if you rest for tonight.

On your way to the elevator, you run into Yuqi, both of your facial expressions brightening when you recognize each other.

“Oh, ___, Hi!” You stop in the middle of the hallway to greet her, a smile pulling at your lips due to her bright hello. “How are you?”

“Midterms are kicking my ass, but other than that I’m fine.” She laughs at your answer, throwing her head back and letting her new short hair ruffle her shoulders.

“I wish I could tell you it gets better, but that would be a lie.” You nod your head in solemn understanding, “Listen, I can’t talk for long since I have a night class, but promise to text me when things slow down, yeah?”

“Of course, I promise.” You nod, just the thought of spending some time with a good friend already pushes away your stress. You wave bye to Yuqi as she begins to turn around but after a loud “oh!” leaves her lips, she turns back to face you.

“Your roommate, her name is Mya, right?” At her random question, you tilt your head in confusion, “She has really long, black hair and big glasses, right? I think I saw her when I was helping you move in?”

“Yeah, that’s her.” You nod, “Why?”

“She found her soulmate today.” You would’ve been more interested in the news if you knew Mya beyond when she goes to class and when she gets back to the dorm, but you feign surprise and nod your head absentmindedly.

“Lucas managed to get a video. It was a whole performance in the quad today, you’d think someone was getting married. I’ll send it to you later.” And with that, she says her last goodbye and runs off. You slowly turn and continue walking in a slow pace up to your dorm room, taking the stairs just so you can have some time to think and be away from people you could potentially run into if you use the elevator.

You’re genuinely happy for Mya, even if you barely know a single thing about her. However, something about a person close to you finding their soulmate makes you sad, considering the situation with your own soulmate. You can’t help but feel a little jealous that there are people who can meet their soulmate and fall into each other’s lives easily.

In times like these, you crave for Donghyuck.

You crave his touch and his words, you crave that comfortable feeling of belonging somewhere you get when he’s around. It’s insane that you haven’t spent much time together, yet you can yearn for someone to the extent that it hurts. It’s been like this ever since Donghyuck pulled you out of Xiaojun’s dorm and you rejected him.

Turning away from him all those weeks ago still haunts you. When you’re struggling to fall asleep, your mind goes to that night. When you let your mind wander, it wanders to that night. You constantly think about stepping away from him, but you’re not sure if you keep remembering the moment out of guilt or shame. One of the questions you keep asking yourself is if you did the right thing. You still do not have an answer.

When you walk into your dorm room, you kick off your shoes and turn on your bedside lamp, falling onto your bed with a deep sigh. You close your eyes for a second, but the peace and quiet of your room is ruined when your phone dings with a notification.

Yuqi’s message pops up, and when you swipe your phone open you can see she sent a video. You click on it and turn the volume up. This was no doubt taken earlier today in the quad, the sun shining and lots of professors and students walking in the background. Under the huge clock tower stand two people, one of them holding a large bouquet of roses. When the clock strikes noon, the bells on top of the tower begin to ring a familiar melody that can be heard all over your big campus. You see the exchange of the bouquet and the two people hug, and then applause rises from the people walking by. You smile when you hear Lucas’ whooping and hollering from behind the phone.

You’ve heard about the tradition of soulmates meeting under the clock tower at your university. Yuqi told you about it when she was giving you a tour around campus at the beginning of the semester. You remember her telling you that it’s really romantic, probably due to the history of so many people getting together in the exact same spot.

Although the idea is rather plain, you do feel your heart strings tug at the beautiful display, glad you could see something like this through a video. Then, as the camera gets closer to the couple, your smile fades and you pause the video, zooming in to get a better view. Mya is no doubt the one who received the flowers, but you can’t help but furrow your eyebrows as you recognize her soulmate.

It’s one of Donghyuck’s friends.

Not the quiet one with black hair that hangs around on the outside of their group, but the shorter one who seemed to simultaneously love and hate Donghyuck, or at least that’s what you gathered from seeing him a few times.

After the realization, you drop your phone to the side and stare up at your ceiling in defeat. Is this fate? If you didn’t meet Donghyuck on those steps two months ago, would you eventually meet him through your roommate and her soulmate? Or is this all just one big coincidence?

In this world, coincidences are harder to find than the work of fate.

Your train of thought is quickly cut off by the opening on the door, you quickly sit up to watch a huge red bouquet of flowers enter the room, followed by your roommate. You’ve only seen her face a few times this semester, but never have her features looked so bright and happy. She also looks startled when she notices you’re in the room, but her happiness doesn’t fade.

“Oh? You’re here?” She asks.

“I could ask you the same thing.” You both chuckle awkwardly, “Congrats, by the way. For finding your soulmate.” You motion to the flowers in her hand.

“Thank you! To be honest, Renjun wasn’t at all what I expected in a soulmate, but I think I love him already.” The sweetness drips from her eyes and words, and you nod and smile, remembering that Donghyuck’s friend’s name is Renjun. Her phone begins to ring and she shuffles the flowers in her hand to look at the screen, “Oh, it’s him.”

She answers the call, speaking quietly as she walks over to her side of the room. You weigh out the options of sneaking out of your dorm and finding a place to chill until your roommate falls asleep. You're not sure if you can talk to her about soulmate stuff and keep up this happy look on your face.

However, all thoughts of those plans leave your mind when Mya turns to you and holds out the phone, “It’s for you?” She says it more like a question, but you’re sure you’re the one who’s more confused.

“Hello?” You ask into the phone, awkwardly looking around the room.

“___? Oh, thank god. It’s Renjun, Haechan’s friend. I need your help.” He talks quickly and shallowly, like he’s out of breath and currently moving somewhere.

“How did you know I’m Mya’s roommate?” You ask, disregarding his cry for help.

“It’s a long story, I promise I’ll explain later, but can you please come to the auditorium? The back entrance.” You hear more voices in the background of the call, but you can’t make out what they're saying. One of them is definitely Donghyuck.

“What’s going on?” At the sound of your soulmate’s unique tenor, you suddenly become more aware of what might be happening. Is Donghyuck safe? Did he get in trouble?

“Donghyuck drank too much and he won’t go home, he keeps asking for you.” At that, you hand the phone back to Mya, who takes it from you with an unsure look. By the time Mya says her worried goodbyes and hangs up, she turns back to an empty dorm room, your phone snatched from your bed and your scattered shoes gone.

You must’ve made it to the auditorium in record time, not even the climb up the 109 steps could slow you down. When you reach the auditorium, you can hear Donghyuck and his friends conversing loudly and you follow their voices, which eventually leads you to the dingy backside of the auditorium. Donghyuck is sitting on the ground with the hood of his coat pulled up and covering his eye sight, arms crossed over his chest and his lips in a pout. His two friends, Renjun and the black-haired kid, stand above him. The quiet one is shivering in his spot while Renjun practically yells at Donghyuck on the ground, who doesn���t seem to be moving any time soon.

“Hi, ___.” The quiet one notices you first and then all three guys turn to look at you.

“___…” Donghyuck whines out your name and tries to stand up but Renjun gently pushes him back down.

“What happened?” You ask, sniffing your nose when the harsh, cold air nips at it.

“He said he wanted to unwind before his midterms tomorrow but then he went out and had some drinks, a few too many as you can see.” Renjun explains, “We followed him here, he said he won’t go anywhere unless it’s with you.”

“It’s strange. Haechan is a good drinker, I didn’t think he would get drunk so quickly… Oh, I’m Jaemin, by the way.” He introduces himself with a bright smile, as if you weren’t just discussing the drunken state of his friend.

“I’m Renjun, I called you earlier. I promise I have a good explanation for how I know you’re Mya’s roommate, I just don’t think right now is the best time to talk about it.” Renjun explains, his hands pointing towards Donghyuck.

“Right, about him… I think you guys should leave.” Both sober men widen their eyes, looking at each other and then back at you.

“Are you sure you want to handle this yourself? He looks small, but Haechan is kind of heavy.” Jaemin warns.

“Hey!” Donghyuck speaks up, but even his verbalization sounds slurred. When he points an accusing finger at Jaemin, he sways and misses Jaemin’s figure by a whole foot, “Don’t say that kind of stuff to my girlfriend.”

At his use of the word, Jaemin and Renjun stand straight with awkwardness and you sigh, white puffs of air leaving your mouth, “Yeah, you guys should go.”

Renjun and Jaemin give you an unsure look, but turn around and leave the area anyway. Renjun sends one last look over his shoulder with a wave of his hand. You look at Donghyuck after they turn the corner, kicking his shoe gently.

“Hey, get up. How much did you drink?” You’re not actually curious about how much alcohol he consumed, you just want to know if he can even respond to simple questions.

“Babe!” He exclaims when he looks up, “Oh, not much. I could go for another round right now, actually.” His words slur together and he sways in his sitting position against the brick wall of the auditorium.

“You’re not going for another round, you’re going home. C’mon.” You grab onto the sleeve of his puffer jacket, pulling him up so that he’s standing. He immediately falls onto you, his arms around your waist and his legs spread wide so that his head is hidden in your neck.

“Hyuck, you have to walk. Get up.” You pull him up once again, putting one of his arms around your shoulders and giving him more support around his waist. Slowly, you begin to walk away from the auditorium with Donghyuck’s drunk mumbling filling the cool air. His legs barely work underneath him, and he turns his head and leans into your ear every once in a while to sing some random lyric that pops into his mind at that second, like a small concert that he allows only you to hear.

Once you reach the top of the staircase, you stop and take a long look down to the bottom, “Why did you have to come all the way up here? How are we getting down the stairs?” If you start to climb down, Donghyuck could fall and hurt himself. You’re not that strong to begin with and your shoulders are already feeling sore from carrying most of Donghyuck’s weight.

“We can ride this.” He giggles and breaks away from you, one of his legs swinging over the handrail so that he’s straddling it.

“No, no, no.” You pull him off, but his shoe gets caught against the rail and he comes falling down onto you, both of you landing on the top step of the staircase. You wince in pain at how your back hits the concrete, but you don’t think about it much as you push Donghyuck off of you and into the space next to you on the top stair.

“Oh, no. Are we stuck up here?” He asks as you brush your hands together to get rid of the little pieces of concrete in your skin.

“Yes, and it’s all your fault. What are you gonna do about it?” You reply, so sarcastically that even Donghyuck’s drunk brain registers the joke. Your heart almost leaps out of your throat when he grabs your hands and pulls you closer to him, gently picking out each little ball of cement in your palms.

“I’m sorry I keep hurting you.” He apologizes. This close, you can smell the alcohol in his breath, mixed with his shampoo and cologne. He smells warm in this cold weather, and you feel like falling into him and drinking up his scent, not even minding the alcohol stench.

“Keep hurting me?” You ask.

“Yeah, that must be why you don’t want to be with me. I have to be doing something wrong for you to hate me.” He sighs, sniffling and enclosing your hands in his, his glassy eyes looking up at you and his long hair hangs down over his forehead and tickles his eyelashes. “I’m a bad soulmate.”

The way he says it makes your heart break. It makes you feel regret 1000 times worse than what you’ve been feeling these past few weeks; as if all of the worry and sadness hit you all at once, you feel like crying.

Isn’t he supposed to be the one who hurts you? Why does it feel like you’re the only one doing the hurting?

“You’re not a bad soulmate,” It’s not Donghyuck’s fault that he got stuck with you, or that things will turn out the way that they’re destined to, “And I don’t hate you.”

“You don’t?” He looks up into the night sky and sways a bit as he thinks, “Then why won’t you be with me? Hm?” He tilts his head, his lips pouting as he thinks. You desperately want to find an answer that’ll soothe him, but nothing you can come up with will give you that result, the truth included.

“It’s complicated…” You trail off, and your answer makes Donghyuck snort.

“How? I’m your soulmate, you’re mine. What else matters?” He laughs incredulously.

“What if you’re not just my soulmate?” You ask him, surprising yourself with how easily you can ask the question, probably because the influence of alcohol over him has you more at ease, “What if something happens in the future? I’m just… looking out for me, and for you.” You explain, trying to sound as vague as possible.

When you glance at Donghyuck, he looks dead serious. You think that maybe he has suddenly sobered up with how deep and calculating his eyes look. One of his hands tighten around yours while the other slowly raises to your hair, pacing himself along the way, and pausing before he touches you. When you don’t stop him, he gently caresses your hair and moves it away from your face, his nimble fingers sliding to your jaw. He moves your face so that your eyes meet his.

“I know I’m drunk, but I can make this promise again when I’m sober. I’ll make this promise every single day for the rest of my life, only if it means you can be there with me to fulfill it.” The severeness in his tone is like a wake up call about how serious this is for him.

“What promise?” You whisper back.

“It’s not just a ‘you’ or just a ‘me’ now. It’s an ‘us.’ And I will do everything I can to not hurt us.”

He says it with so much conviction that you somehow believe him. You finally fall into him and rest your tired head on his shoulder as he welcomes you into his warm arms. Maybe it’s foolish of you to think you two can go against fate’s words, but with him by your side, you feel like you can conquer the whole universe.

“Stop smiling like that, you’re making it very obvious that you got laid for the first time.” Donghyuck peers over his laptop screen to Renjun, where he has had a permanent smile on his face ever since he, Donghyuck, and Jaemin met up today to study in the lounge center of their dorm building.

“You know, Haechan, I’m not even mad at that. It’s more than what I can say to you.” Renjun tries to hide his widening smile while looking down at his own laptop, but that paired with Jaemin’s quiet laughter leaves Donghyuck bitter. “Didn’t you and ___ make up?” Renjun asks.

“They were fighting? I thought they just weren’t talking to each other?” Jaemin asks.

“Isn’t that fighting?”

“Kids.” Haechan cuts them off, “Not that it’s any of your business, but we were not fighting and we did make up.”

“That makes no sense.” Jaemin mutters and squints his eyes at Donghyuck.

“I’m older than you.” Renjun retaliates, but Donghyuck pretends like he doesn’t hear.

“We’re just… taking it slow.” Donghyuck ends his explanation with a firm nod of his head, and Renjun shuts his laptop and turns to his friend.

“Can you take it slow during the Fair this weekend? I’m planning to go with Mya and accidentally bought two pairs of tickets. I’ll give you the other pair.” Renjun leans into his friend’s side and wiggles his eyebrows.

“At what cost?” Haechan leans in as well and raises an eyebrow.

“Help me with my English project.”

“No way,” Haechan leans back and focuses on his own laptop screen again, “I haven’t even started mine, I don’t have time to help you with yours.”

“Please,” Renjun draws out the word, grabbing Donghyuck’s sleeve and tugging at it so hard that he can’t properly type, “I suck at English, and unfortunately it’s the only thing that you’re better at than me.”

“The only thing?” Donghyuck glares at Renjun. “Now I’m definitely not helping you.” When Renjun whines at that Donghyuck gets a devilish idea, and it shows by the smirk on his face, “... Unless, you’d like to show us how you really need help.”

At Donghyuck’s proposition, he leans back in his chair with his arms folded across his  chest while Jaemin mirrors his actions, his own goofy smile on his face as he waits for Renjun to either accept or deny the proposition, but he hopes he’ll accept it.

Renjun looks between his two friends and sighs, dropping his head down as he mentally prepares himself. When he lifts his head, he looks at Donghyuck with his lips pursed, his pointer finger over them and makes a “kyu” sound that is way higher than his original speaking voice. Jaemin and Haechan immediately burst into as quiet of laughter as they can, Jaemin reaching over the table to poke Renjun’s cheek at his cuteness.

“I never said to act cute, I just wanted you to say please again.” Donghyuck jokes through his snickering, and Renjun immediately stands up from his chair to take a fistful of Haechan’s jacket and pull back his other fist, all cuteness gone from his facial features in a split second.

“Okay, okay, sorry, sorry.” Haechan tries to pull away, his voice rising as Renjun holds onto his jacket tighter and threateningly leans in.

“Hey, quiet down.” Someone whisper-shouts from a few tables away, and it makes Renjun let go of Donghyuck and slowly sit back down. “This isn’t even a library, why are they shushing me.” He grumbles.

“You guys have fun on your date,” Jaemin sighs as he begins to put away his things, satisfied with the study session and with his friends' mischief, “I would go too, but I don’t feel like being a fifth wheel.”

Once your classes end on the day of the Fair, you and your roommate meet up with Donghyuck and Renjun outside of the Fair grounds. You and Donghyuck walk side by side, a bit behind the other couple as they lead the way, practically in their own little bubble. Your hands are shoved in your pockets to keep them from turning numb from the cold and you try to shove your head as far into your jacket as you can to keep your face and neck protected from the wind. Other than the chilly weather, it’s a perfect day for a Fair.

You don’t seem to notice Donghyuck’s predicament right beside you; he’s trying to find a way to hold your hand, but you don’t move them out of your pockets. Actually, Donghyuck is sure you’re doing this on purpose, since he has been trying to touch you the moment you met up with him tonight.

“So, what do you wanna ride first?” He asks you. After looking around the area, your eyes land on a tea cup ride, where the large cups move in circles and also spin in their spots.

“That.” You point to it. Before you can move, Donghyuck latches into your hand that was pointing into the air and pulls you to the ride, a smug smile on his face at how he succeeded in finally sharing some skin to skin contact.

The ride was, to say the least, nauseating. Not that it was disgusting, but Donghyuck wouldn’t stop spinning your individual cup around in fast circles, and you were so sure that you would fling off any second due to the strong velocity those tiny cups have when they go at full speed. However, walking off of the ride with wobbly legs and not being able to see straight was funnier than you thought it would be.

Donghyuck was actually still pretty dizzy when he tried to win a stuffed octopus for you with a dart game. However, he ended up losing $15 while trying to win the game, and you’re sure he would’ve spent more if you didn’t pull him away. After eating some good food and refilling your energy, the sun begins to set on the horizon in a colorful display of red, orange and pink, and people start to make their way to the ferris wheel.

“C’mon,” You hear Mya say from behind you, “We need to get in line first or else we’ll be waiting for half of the night.” She pulls Renjun by his sleeve and passes you and Donghyuck, practically running to the end of the growing line for the Ferris Wheel. When you see where she’s running to, you stop in your tracks which in turn makes Donghyuck stop. Your intertwined fingers pull you back to each other as he looks at you with a puzzled look.

“I’m… not good with heights.” You confess and look towards the top of the ferris wheel, shivering just at the thought of going that far up into the sky in a metal contraption, “Or small spaces…” You add on.

“That’s okay,” Donghyuck gently reassures, smiling lightly at your sudden timidness about your fears. Honestly, he’s just happy you now trust him a bit more to even tell him what you’re afraid of. “We don’t have to go. We can do something else.”

“Like what?” You ask. Donghyuck purses his lips and looks around, until a set of stairs on the edge of the fairgrounds catches his eye.

“I know a place where we can still get a good view of the sunset without going too far up.” He replies and tugs you along with him towards the set of stairs. They lead down to the park that’s nestled in the middle of your University, which eventually leads to a pedestrian bridge that crosses over a river that runs through your town.

The river isn’t that big, nor is the bridge, but it’s big enough to have your head tilting up in wonder as you gaze at the lights adorning the sides of it, lighting up not only the bridge itself by the sky as well. You’ve seen this bridge from your dorm room, but you’ve never once stood on it, and it looks remarkable from this close up.

Donghyuck continues to lead you over the pedestrian bridge onto the other side, where an outdoor museum that was constructed by art students a few years ago holds several different abstract paintings. His hand in yours, which has been it’s resting place all night, keeps yours warm. You try not to think about how your hands fit into each other like the gears of a hand-crafted watch. The lines on your palms connect with the lines on his; it’s painfully obvious he was made for you and you were made for him.

When you reach the end of the outdoor museum, you turn west and face the sunset just as it’s setting over the skyline. Even though some tall buildings obstruct the view, the colors of the sky stretch overhead and make both you and Donghyuck stand still and appreciate the artwork in the sky.

“You like these kinds of things, huh? Sunsets, and ponds, and that kind of stuff?” He suddenly asks, not talking his eyes off of the sky. You, however, turn to look at him. He has his eyes screwed as he tries to look at the sunset, obviously not liking the bright sunlight.

“You don’t?” You ask back.

“I think... there are more enjoyable things.” Donghyuck takes a while to make up his mind about what he wants, obviously trying not to make the things you enjoy sound bad to him.

“Then we should go.” You turn around, but he pulls you back to your original spot.

“We walked all this way, we’re watching this sunset even if my feet freeze to the ground.” He tightens his grip on your hand and speaks through his teeth, making you sputter out a laugh and hit his shoulder with your own lightly.

“Sometimes, I wonder why fate put us together.” You ask, watching as the sun moves bit by bit, leaving behind trails of light and the beginnings of stars and the vast universe on the other side of the sky. “We’re different. I don’t know about you, but you are not who I imagined my soulmate would be.” You speak truthfully.

Even though there are some strings attached to Donghyuck’s relationship with you, it didn’t stop you from thinking about what kind of person he’d be— what kind of person fate would pick to be your perfect fit. Maybe they would have some sort of major flaw, like an anger problem or a lack of common sense. Maybe they would be an alcoholic or someone who commits crimes.

When it came to your soulmate, you always thought of something bad considering that they were also going to hurt you in some way. You never thought that your soulmate would be someone as unique and fun as Donghyuck. Fate made it way too easy to be with him, and you’re not sure whether to feel bitter or thankful.

“Well,” He blows some air through his nose, “You’re exactly what I thought my soulmate would be like” Your heart jumps into your throat and beats irregularly when Donghyuck says that, struck with the feeling of surprise once again.

“Mark tells me you’re smart and get good grades, and I know it was you who ordered that soup for me the morning after you took me home when I got drunk. Not to mention, you went out when it was dark to take me home in the first place.” Donghyuck explains, his hand that’s still interlocked with yours waving around as he does so, “You’re willing to help others, you have a good head on your shoulders, and not to mention you guard your heart to the very end.”

“Guarding my heart… That’s an admirable quality? If I remember correctly, it caused you some pain in the past few months.” By now, the last rays of the sun are disappearing over the horizon and night begins to blanket the sky. You turn to your soulmate when he takes more than a moment to answer, watching the way his face reacts to the thoughts turning in his head.

“Yeah, it is a great quality. I think if you completely trusted me the moment you saw me on those stairs, we wouldn’t end up here now. You wouldn’t be the perfect fit for me if you loved me so easily.” He turns to you, a teasing smile playing on his lips. Your interlocked fingers are basically frozen together at this point and maybe your feet really have stuck to the ground, but his words warm you up from the inside out.

“I think I would’ve fallen in love with you even if we weren’t destined to be together.”

Somehow, he manages to remind you of one very important fact that you’ve set aside since the moment you met him. You’ve always put the fact that he’s supposed to hurt you first, and the fact that he’s your soulmate second. However, he is a human and so are you, and you’re both given the opportunity to love one another wholly and truly. People die to have this type of moment. People live their whole lives without experiencing this type of emotion.

It’s time to remember that Donghyuck is your soulmate, first and foremost. He is deserving of love, and you’re now willing to give it to him.

When you pull Donghyuck into you, he feels like it may be a hallucination. Surely your lips can’t be that close to his own. But when he smells the cinnamon on your lips from that churro you had and your fingers sliding up his arm to grip his jacket, he becomes scared that this might actually be a hallucination.

You slowly lean in, almost painfully slow, but Donghyuck doesn’t dare rush you. When your lips do meet, both of you feel complete. The feeling of finishing a lifetime’s worth of work with one gentle kiss is the most delicious feeling ever, different from anything that either of you have ever experienced.

It’s slow and careful, but passionate and full of true love. No matter what happens in the future, it will always be your memory to savor and remember for the rest of your lives.

“___!” You hear Mark’s voice from your right, turning your head quickly to see him stick his hand up in the air and begin to make his way through the throngs of people between you two. You move towards him, attempting to meet in the middle, but somehow he ends up behind you, and you laugh as you attempt to meet again.

“Hey, Mark,” You look over him, noting how well he manages to pull off the choir robe that everyone else seems to look like a sack of potatoes in, “I didn’t know your concerts could get this packed. You guys could start your own group and make it big.” You look around while adjusting the flowers in your hand so they don’t get squished against your chest.

“Nah, it’s mostly just families that come to these concerts. Since there are a lot of vocal majors, there are a lot of families that show up.” He explains.

“So, what does that make me?” You joke, but Mark doesn’t seem to get it and tilts his head to the side.

“You’re Donghyuck’s girlfriend. That makes you family, right?” At the mention of your relationship, you glance down at the flowers in your hand, the flowers that are meant for the aforementioned boy. You nod, mumbling something like a ‘I guess’ before Mark looks down at his watch and sucks a breath through his teeth.

“Okay, I have to go warm up. Make sure you get a seat in the middle, that’s where it sounds best.” He gives you a quick wave as he walks away, and you manage to send one back. Before you know it, the doors to the auditorium open and people flood in to grab the best seat they can.

You barely manage to snag a seat in the middle, an older lady to your right and a grandpa to your left who seem to be unrelated and didn’t mind you sitting between them. You shrug off your coat as you look around, feeling anxiety build up in your chest. You know you don’t have anything to be anxious for, so you deduct that it’s probably Donghyuck.

He invited you to the concert today. For him, it’s part of his final grade for his vocal class and for you, it’s a chance to see him sing on stage. Strangely, he has talked about how much he loves to perform but never wants to sing in front of you. When he told you he auditioned for a solo in one of the songs, and ended up getting the part, you knew you absolutely had to come today.

Pulling out your phone, you send Donghyuck a text saying that you’re seated and that you wish him to break a leg. You see the read receipt pop up next to your text, and although he doesn’t text anything back, the anxious feeling in your chest subsides and you smile to yourself.

“Those are pretty flowers.” Turning your head to the lady on your right, you glance down at the bouquet of black-eyed susans on your lap.

“Oh, thank you.” You put your phone on silent and slip it into your pocket.

“They’re my mom’s favorite.” Your attention turns to a kid who sits on the other side of the woman. He can’t be any older than ten, and his feet don’t touch the ground as he swings them back and forth and looks up at his mother.

“Oh?” You ask, turning back to the older woman, “Would you like some?”

The woman seems to be stunned by your question, obviously not expecting you to hand over flowers at such a comment from her son. She looks almost flustered as she shakes her head at you.

“No, it’s okay. I bet those are for someone special?” She asks while nodding towards the stage.

“They’re for my… boyfriend.” You mumble, still not used to the words leaving your tongue, even though it has been more than a few weeks now.

“Then you should save them for him.” She nods and you smile back.

“But I want one.” The woman’s son pouts, and the mother nudges her foot against his leg. You laugh a bit, using your right hand to hold down the bouquet and your left to pull out a flower. Carefully, you hand it over to the little boy and he grasps it, his pout turning into a smile while he sings a ‘thank you’ and counts the petals on the flower.

The woman gives you a nod, and you all turn to face forward where the students are beginning to walk onto the stage.

The concert went well; you weren’t familiar with any of the pieces of music the choir performed, and many of them were in different languages, but you still enjoyed the performance by the many music students from your university. You managed to catch sight of Donghyuck fairly quickly, and Mark was just a few rows behind him.

Donghyuck’s solo fit his voice perfectly. Maybe you’re biased, but you think no one would be able to match his tone and technique to fit the song as perfectly as he did. Since it was the first time you heard him sing, you were a bit taken back by how amazing his voice sounds and how much control he has of it. It didn’t look like he struggled to hit the notes, and he looked like he was in his element on stage.

After the concert, you wait on the staircase outside of the auditorium building where you agreed to meet up with Donghyuck. You roll on your feet, jumping up and down slightly to keep warm. You clutch the flowers to you, scared that the cold weather might cause them to bend and begin to wilt quicker.

“Oh, it’s the flower lady!” You hear a familiar voice call out, and you turn your head to see the little boy and his mom from earlier… walking with Donghyuck? He has his choir robe hanging from one arm and his other hand intertwined with the little kid.

“Do you guys know each other?” Donghyuck asks, looking between the three of you with confusion.

“We happened to sit next to each other during the concert.” The woman explains, a grin growing on her face as she looks between you two. “This is your soulmate.” She doesn’t say it like a question, she says it plainly and nods her head in content.

“I’m sorry, did you already know who I was when we met?” You ask her.

“No, until I saw the mark on your left hand. I would recognize my own son’s mark anywhere.” Son? This is Donghyuck’s mother?! Your eyebrows must be up to your hairline and you think your mouth might be open, but you can only focus on remembering every little thing you said to her before the concert started to recall if you said anything dumb.

“Let me introduce you properly. This is ___, my soulmate and my girlfriend. ___, this is my mom, Sara, and my half-brother, Hyunjin.” Donghyuck gently takes your elbow and pulls you closer to him.

“It’s nice to meet you.” You politely greet them as if it’s the first time ever.

“Well, I like her. She gave me a flower.” Hyunjin exclaims.

“Back off, she’s mine.” Donghyuck jokes with the kid. “Thank you guys for coming today, by the way.” He continues, “I appreciate my favorite people being here for my first college performance.”

Donghyuck goes to hug his mom as she sets a kiss to his cheek that makes him cringe away slightly. However, you’re still struck to your spot from being included into Donghyuck’s group of favorite people. There’s a warm feeling in your chest at being included into something so special so early on in your relationship. There’s also some anxiety that comes with it, since promises that are made too early hurt the most, but you push the feeling away and soak in Donghyuck’s unconditional love.

After you all bid farewell to each other, and Sara and Hyunjin leave, you turn to Donghyuck with a deadpan expression, “You didn’t tell me I’d be meeting your family today.”

“Would you believe me when I say that I forgot they were coming?” He asks and you roll your eyes, not believing his words at all.

“These are for you.” You push the flowers into his chest and dig your hands into your pockets so that they can finally get warm, “Your solo was… interesting to listen to.” You say with annoyance dripping from every word.

“Thank you,” He replies cutely, not affected by your irritation. You roll your eyes again, but a smile tugs at your lips as well. “What kind of flowers are these? I don’t think I’ve ever seen them?” He asks while digging his nose into the bouquet.

“Black-eyed susans.” You reply, and Donghyuck gives you a weird look.

“That’s such a random flower.”

“They attract dragonflies.” You explain, nudging his side with your elbow. When you glance over to him, he has a smile playing on his lips.

“Should I be giving these to you, then?” He hands them over, but you push them back at him.

“No way. I’m already attracted to you.” You state, turning around to walk back down the staircase. When you don’t hear any footsteps following you, you turn around to find Donghyuck kneeling over with the flowers clutched close to him.

“Are you okay?” Alarm rises in your chest, especially when he shakes his head at your question.

“No, you just made my heart beat really fast and I’m afraid I’m gonna have a heart attack.” You would roll your eyes again, but you’re afraid they might roll out of your head at this point. You climb back up the stairs and yank on his sleeve jacket to make him walk alongside you.

“___, feel my heart. I swear it’s going to beat out of my chest.”

“Shut up, Donghyuck.”

“No, seriously, I think we should go to the hospital.”

“Shut up.”

In the morning, Donghyuck loves to wake up next to you. He has always been a spread-out type of sleeper; arms to the side, legs open, laying diagonally across the bed. Once you two moved out of your dorms and moved into an apartment together during your second year of college, Donghyuck’s way of sleeping changed dramatically.

Now, he can’t help but snuggle in, wrap his arms around you, tangle his legs in with yours, and do everything he can to sleep as close as he can to you. Maybe that’s why he suddenly woke up. The absence of you next to him made him shuffle awake, missing the frame of your body next to his like how it usually fits.

He groggily opens his eyes and immediately shivers, catching the open windows in the bedroom letting in fresh, cool, morning air. Donghyuck shivers once again, blindly reaching for the blanket and wrapping it around his head and shoulders, then making his way out of the bedroom in search of you.

He checks the kitchen, but you’re not there. Then he goes to the living room, and he sees your figure outside on the balcony, the curtains that are supposed to be hanging up in your bedroom moving with the wind as they hang next to you. He tightens the blanket around him and opens the glass door. Even though you definitely heard him come outside, you don’t turn around. You have a cup of something warm next to you and you’re leaning against the balcony while staring out into the city skyline, watching the sun rise into the sky to welcome the new day.

“Good morning.” Donghyuck mumbles as softly as he can. When you mumble back a reply, he opens the front of the blanket so he can swallow you into his embrace. His chin rests on your shoulder and tries to guess exactly what you’re looking at, but when he lifts his head to look at your face, your eyes are closed.

“So, do you want to tell me why our curtains are out here and not on our windows like they should be?” He rests his head against yours, also closing his eyes.

“I woke up and suddenly felt the urge to clean them, I don’t know.” You laugh a bit, making both of you move with the movement of your chest. Donghyuck smiles at your reason; one of the things he learned about you when you moved in together is that your work ethic comes in random bursts of energy, rather than carefully planned out schedules to follow. You always have a small goal for every day, and sometimes you don’t even know what it is until it randomly pops into your head. Although he doesn’t really understand how you’re able to work like that, he loves this little quirk anyway.

“Did I wake you up?” You whisper and nudge your head into Donghyuck’s, nuzzling back into him when a particularly strong gust of wind blows over the balcony.

“Not technically, no. You not being next to me woke me up.” He replies.

“Well, I’m here now. How about we sleep some more?” You ask, leaning back against him and looking at his face.

“Best thing I’ve heard today.” He sighs. Without letting you out of his blanket trap, he walks you both back into the apartment and into your bedroom, both of you beginning to giggle at one point when you almost trip over the blanket and crash into the ground.

Thankfully, you both made it back safely to the bed, falling into the soft mattress. Immediately, Donghyuck gathers you in his arms and cuddles you to him, almost like he’s latching onto you. You wrap your arms around him slowly and lean into his shoulder, placing a kiss against his collarbone. You were going to stop there, but when he lets out a whimper at the small press of your lips to his skin, you continue moving up his neck.

When you reach the space underneath his ear, he twitches at how you suck on the sensitive skin, not expecting you to pay closer attention there. His hand slides over your back, between your shoulder blades, and back down, pressing you to him as he caresses you and silently hopes you don’t stop what you’ve started.

You don’t seem to have any intention to do that when you lean back, looking up at Donghyuck’s big, round eyes as they stare down hazily at you and quickly connecting your lips. He kisses back slowly, as if taking his sweet, sweet time in loving you.

“I thought we were supposed to sleep?” You ask between kisses.

“We can sleep later…” He trails off, grabbing your hand and pulling you on top of him so that you’re straddling his hips. “... If you’re really tired we don’t have to.” He suddenly pulls away, his hand comfortably resting over your waist.

“No way. It’s too late for that.” You answer, pulling your shirt over your head and tossing it to the other side of the bed. A chill runs through you at the cold temperature in the room, goosebumps forming over your arms and your nipples hardening. Donghyuck wraps his arms around your middle and presses a kiss in the valley of your chest, moving over until he reaches your left nipple and taking it into his mouth.

Biting your lip, your hands find his hair and tug on the long strands. Donghyuck’s hands squeeze your sides and his fingers draw random, little lines over your bare skin as he sucks and plays with your nipples, switching between each one.

“Hyuck…” You whine, giving a particularly sharp tug to his hair when he bites down onto your right nipple. “Please…” You trail off.

“Hmm? Please what? What do you want.” He leans back and looks up at you. You comb your fingers through his hair, pushing it back away from his face and behind his ears. His eyes are clouded and hooded over by the thoughts of you that are speeding through his mind.

“Please, make love to me.” You say it shyly, your eyes looking over his face but not meeting his own. He can’t help but smile at your timidness. You act like it’s the first time those words came out of your mouth. He can’t help but find it endearing how you ask him to make love to you every single time you find yourselves in this position.

“Of course, anything for you.” He connects your lips again, keeping the slow and steady pace from before. He shifts around as he moves his boxers away. Breaking the kiss, you move his hands away and pump his shaft, glancing up at him as he leans back with his weight on his hands and his head leaning back.

He lets out whines every time you twist your wrist, and you almost want to take a moment and stay this way, loving the sounds coming from Donghyuck’s mouth and how he looks as he pants beneath you. However, the tension growing between your legs makes you stop and sit up, pulling off your own pajama bottoms and underwear, throwing them somewhere along with your shirt.

Donghyuck grips your hips with one hand, the other pressing his middle finger to your slick folds, watching you squirm from above as he slides his finger through slowly.

“Just— Can you just do something already?” You almost whine out, grabbing onto his arm hard enough that you leave crescent moons in his skin.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, yes, I’m sure.” With your permission, Donghyuck positions himself at your entrance and slowly brings your hips down, watching your reaction throughout it all. The way your jaw slacks and drops open to the way you swallow when your hips meet with his, closing your eyes in pleasure at how he manages to fit inside you so perfectly. When everyone says your soulmate is made specifically for you, they really do mean in every way possible.

You sit like that for a moment, before opening your eyes and looking at your lover. He helps you move your hips up and back down, you let out a gsap at the sparks that fly up your spine. Your hips start to move in unison, yours grinding down and his moving up to meet yours in a steady rhythm, like a dance to music only you two can hear.

Your nails hurt when they move over his shoulders and chest, leaving temporary marks, but Donghyuck doesn’t mind. Actually, he loves it when you tug on his hair and scratch up his back, his whines turning into full out groans when you lean in and attach your lips to the side of his neck, pressing hot kisses down to his collarbone and biting down gently in the same place this whole situation started.

“H-Hyuck, I—” Before you know it, you’re so close to your orgasm, it’s basically right in front of you to reach out and accept.

“I know, baby, I know. You can come, I got you.” He answers back messily, using the last of his energy to keep your hips in place and drive himself into you. You let out a shriek at the sudden pleasure, only a few more deep thrusts into your hole and you’re falling over him as your orgasm spreads to every crevice of your body.

Donghyuck loves the way your muscles seize and flutter around him, making him pant and his thrusts become sloppy as he comes as well, his warm seed filling you up as he rides through his high. You both fall into the mattress below, you on top of Donghyuck, too tired to roll over and opting to just rest on his sweaty chest.

“I think that was way better than sleeping.” He says, his chest rumbling underneath you as he speaks.

“What a good way to tire ourselves out.” You yawn.

In the last few moments before your tired bodies fall asleep, you find Donghyuck’s hand and intertwine your fingers together, happily and contently falling asleep with the fresh air coming through the window and the sunlight now fully streaming into the room.

In the late summer before your and Donghyuck’s last year of university, you attend a wedding. Not just any wedding: Yuqi and Lucas’ wedding.

Although the ceremony is held outside, there’s a nice breeze that keeps the guests from getting too hot and sweaty in the summer sun. The whole wedding is held in a botanical garden and the place is decorated in white and purple, lilacs and daisies filling vases everywhere you go and freshening the air with their scent.

You and Donghyuck walk into the room inside the administrative building that’s designated for the bride. Yuqi is there, her face shining brightly with happiness and a glow that can’t be stolen from her today.

When you walk in, you let out a sound of delight at how pretty your college friend looks in her wedding dress, taking note of the chamomile flowers that adorn her hairpiece.

“Ah, I can’t believe you’re here.” She all but shrieks, embracing you tightly with her small bouquet still in her hands. After she gives Donghyuck a small, welcoming hug, she backs away to look at both of you.

“You look amazing today, I can’t believe you’re actually getting married. Congratulations.” You say sincerely.

“I can’t believe it either, actually. I feel like we’ve been planning this for forever, and now the day is finally here.” She recalls, a blissful look in her eyes even though you’re aware of how much stress she has had during the past few months over this one day.

“Are you nervous?” Donghyuck asks and you nudge his side and send him a look for asking a question like that.

“No, I’m not,” Yuqi laughs, “I feel one hundred percent happy. Like I’m starting the next part of my life with the one I love.”

“I’m glad you can spend the rest of your life with your soulmate, you’re definitely luckier than most.” You muse, and she suddenly softens her expression and takes your hand in hers, gently holding onto you.

“I’m not marrying my soulmate. I’m marrying the one I love. It just happens to be the same person.”

After bidding your farewells and good lucks, you and Donghyuck walk out of the room and head to where the ceremony will be held. He pulls out of sunglasses, propping them on the edge of his nose, and then grabbing your hand and strolling through the exhibits on the way to the ceremony grounds.

Yuqi’s words ring in your head throughout the peaceful walk, specifically how happy she looked to be marrying the one she loves. Somehow, you never thought about separating soulmate from lover; those two people have always been one in your head. You always thought that there can’t be a soulmate without a lover, and there can’t be a lover without a soulmate.

But the moment with Yuqi reminded you of the first time Donghyuck properly confessed to you, the words you can still hear floating through your head whenever your mind wanders off and thinks about him.

“I think I would’ve fallen in love with you even if we weren’t destined to be together.”

Maybe Donghyuck has been wiser than you this whole time. Not that you’d ever admit that to his face, unless you’d like to hear about it at least three times a week for the rest of your life.

Every memory— every year that has passed by with Donghyuck has only grown the idea of soulmate and lover further apart in your mind, and it took the matrimony of your close friends to realize it. You don’t think it’s a bad thing; in fact, you’re lucky that you can call your lover and your soulmate the same person.

You feel something tugging at your hand, and when you look over at your lover, he looks at you expectedly.

“Huh?” You say, dumbfounded since you’ve been in your own little world for who knows how long. Donghyuck laughs, bending over a bit at the funny, bewildered look on your face before straightening up and looking over to you again.

“I said, what colors should we do for our wedding? I personally think I look good in red, but I’m sure we can figure out something less contrasting.” He explains nonchalantly, you realize he’s kicking a random pebble around as you walk. Looking around, confused out of your mind, you turn back to him.

“Are we getting married?”

“Well, yeah,” He does something between a laugh and a scoff before leaning next to you, a serious look that permeates through the shade of his sunglasses, “You do want to marry me, right?”

Your brain is in a complete fritz. If you had a whole day to think about this you could maybe make up a sentence that resembles a sophisticated answer, but you can only shrug.

“Uh, yeah, I guess.”

“You guess?” Donghyuck stops walking, “I just asked you if you want to get married, and you reply with ‘uh, yeah, I guess.’” He mocks your tone and it makes you roll your eyes at him.

“This is the first time we’ve ever talked about this and I got nervous.” You explain, making him relax and stand in front of you with his hands leisurely resting in his pockets. “Of course, someday I would like to marry you. I guess you’re… tolerable.” Donghyuck pushes you away from him and quickly walks down the path, twice as fast as he was walking before. You laugh and follow him, running slightly to catch up.

“Excuse me, Miss, would you like to leave a wish for the happy couple?” A sudden voice stops you, making you turn back around. A man stands with a camera, looking at you expectedly.

“Uh, how?” You look from the camera and back up to him.

“I’ll take your picture. You can write a wish on it and hang it up over there.” He points to the dozens of polaroids already hung up a few feet away, random people posing in the photographs with different color writing on every picture.

“Let’s do it.” Donghyuck comes up behind you, no doubt catching the last part of what the photographer said and pushing you lightly over to where there’s better lighting while taking off his sunglasses and tucking them into his shirt. The photographer asks you to pose, and you and Donghyuck smile for the camera, your eyes slightly shut due to the sun beating down on top of you.

“Great, how about one more for yourselves?” The photographer asks as he waits for the photograph to develop and you agree. This time, Donghyuck wraps an arm around you and pulls you closer so that your back is against his chest. You feel him rest his cheek on your head and drape his other arm around your front. You grab onto his forearm, not knowing what to do with your hands, and then suddenly the picture is taken and the photographer hands over both of the developed photos.

You take the second picture out of Donghyuck’s hands, not being able to look away. The sun seems to hit both of you just right, and the slight candidness of the photo adds another layer of reality to the picture. Donghyuck has a small smile while his cheek is slightly squished against your head, but he still looks as handsome as ever.

“What wish should we leave them?” He asks, picking up a golden sharpie from the table nearby, somehow already having his sunglasses back on.

“Maybe just… Congratulations on getting married?” You suggest.

“And a million other people will have the same thing. We need to be memorable.” He stresses and taps the end of the sharpie against his head. “What do you wish for Lucas and Yuqi?”

“I wish…” You think about it for a moment, “For them to have a lifetime of memories that they can share until the very end.” You nod.

“Oh?” Donghyuck looks at you, “When did you become a poet?” He asks as he writes that down at the bottom of the first picture.

“I’ve always been like this. I’m glad you just now figured it out.” You reply sarcastically, to which Donghyuck replies back with his own sarcastic laugh. He hangs up your picture close to where Mark and Xiaojun hung up their’s, and then turns back around.

“Alright, let’s get this show on the road.” He pushes up his sunglasses with his ring finger and thumb, walking with swagger towards the ceremony and grabbing your hand while he’s passing by.

“If you’re going to be like this at our wedding, maybe I’ll have to change my mind…”

For one today being one of the most awaited days of your life, it started out pretty regularly.

You wake up from the ringing of your alarm, get ready, and go to your classes for the day. You had breakfast before you left, and lunch right before your last class of the day. Even work was boring as usual, but nothing beat going to the store afterwards.

When you got to the aisle filled with shoes, you were first puzzled by how many options there are. So many colors and styles, you didn’t expect to be so overwhelmed and accidentally spent almost an hour just looking at every individual pair. This had to be perfect. This was going to be a memory that you thought about for the rest of your life.

You call Donghyuck when you approach your front door, he answers almost immediately.

“Hey, love, what’s up?” He yawns through the words, and you can’t help but smile as you look down at the bag in your hands.

“Oh, I was just wondering when you’ll be home.” You open the front door and shut it behind you, taking off your shoes.

“I’m right outside of our building. Did you just get home?” He asks, no doubt hearing the front door from your side of the line.

“I’ll talk to you when you get up here then, see you.” You send a kiss through the phone and abruptly end the call. If Donghyuck is right outside of the building he’ll be up to your apartment in just a few minutes.

You drop the rest of your things down at the front door and hurry into the kitchen, setting down the small white bag with a lace bow on top in the middle of the kitchen table, clearing the table of anything else. You slide into a seat at the table, fixing your clothes nervously as you hear the front door open. Not even a few seconds later, Donghyuck walks into the kitchen, his eyes moving from you to the white bag and back to you.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, dead serious. Your nerves and anxiety, and maybe even some fear, must be strong enough for him to feel. You shake your head and pat the chair next to you. Donghyuck takes a seat, he came through the door so quickly that he didn’t even take his shoes or his jacket off yet.

“Open the bag.” You can’t help the excited smile and small clap of your hands as he reaches out and holds the bag. He gives you a quizzical look, but you only nod to encourage him.

Donghyuck unties the lace ribbon, looking down into the bag for a few moments. You can’t read his face and you can’t feel any emotions from him, and your anxiety grows tenfold. He reaches in and pulls out the little shoes, a light blue color with white stitching. They’re so small, they can sit in Donghuck’s hand perfectly.

“What are these?” He asks, still looking at the shoes in his hand.

“Well, they’re shoes… For babies. For our baby.”

At your reply, he does nothing. He doesn’t react at all, which only worsens your nerves and makes your leg twitch up and down as you wait for him to say something. He swallows and sets the shoes on the table, still looking at then with a blank expression.

“You’re pregnant?”

“Yeah…” You reply, reaching out to put a hand over Donghyuck’s, “Say something.”

“I’m not sure what to say, this is very… sudden.” He tilts his head. Your stomach drops at the lack of emotion in his voice. You aren’t sure what you were expecting, but it was not this stoic expression in his face. Whatever traces of a smile that you had on your lips vanishes and you grip his hand tighter.

“I know this is not what we had planned. I know this is kind of… not good timing, since we’re still in school and not married, yet. But this is what fate had planned for us, I guess?” You’re not sure if you’re trying to console him or convince him, but the icky feeling in your stomach tells you Donghyuck’s reaction to the situation is not good.

“Yeah, fate did us real good.” Donghyuck replies sarcastically and you drop your hands from his, resting them in your lap. You can see the tears forming in his eyes even when he tries to look away from you, and you can feel the fear that’s boiling and overflowing inside him.

“I know you’re scared, I’m scared too. But we can get through this to—” You’re suddenly cut off by Donghyuck standing up abruptly.

“I’m not scared. I’m worried.” He rubs his face with his hands. “I’m worried that I won’t be able to support this kid. I’m worried I won’t be able to be here for you through it all. I’m so worried I’m going to end up like my father that I feel like it’s going to eat me alive.” He runs his hands through his hair, pulling his head back as he looks at the ceiling and paces around the kitchen.

“I never knew your father, but from what you told me, you’re nothing like him.” You stand up too, your legs feeling like jello.

“No, you don’t understand. What if I say something wrong and ruin this kid’s life like my father did to me? What if I can’t find a job after we graduate? Are you going to support all three of us? I can’t let you live like my mom did, it was too hard to watch back then and it’ll be even harder to watch now.” He suddenly stops, not giving you a chance to speak as he looks from you, to the little shoes, and back to you. “I can’t.”

“You… can’t what?” There’s panic rising in your voice as he shakes his head and backs away.

“I can’t be here, not around you or this baby. I won’t be a good father.” He turns and walks out of the kitchen, leaving you standing dumbfounded with tears brimming in your eyes. You move to the front door, watching at Donghyuck’s shaking hands pick up his keys and wallet.

“Are you leaving me? Right now?” He doesn’t look at you and he doesn’t answer, opening the door, “Wait!” You cry out. He stops, his shoulders tense and his hand clenching the doorknob.

“What about that promise you made me? Huh? You said that it’s not just a ‘you’ or a ‘me’ now. It’s an ‘us.’ You said you’ll do everything you can to not hurt us.” You ask, recalling the promise Donghyuck made back when you two were young college students, and a promise he has repeated and vowed to you over and over again every time your relationship got into a rough patch.

“I think… that what I’m doing is what’s best for us. It’ll be better if I wasn’t here. ___...” He looks back at your teary eyed figure with one last look of regret, “I love you. I’m so sorry.” And with that, he closes the door, leaving you all alone in your cold and dark apartment.

You jumped off of the bridge. You jumped off a while ago, actually, but the fall took longer than you expected. You thought Donghyuck would be there to catch you at the bottom, but he’s nowhere to be seen now. The fall was peaceful and enjoyable, a soft limbo between making the hardest decision in your life and the ultimate consequence of that decision. The fall was long and made you feel faux comfort, so when you reached the very end, it ended up hurting a lot worse. You knew jumping off of a bridge would kill you, so why did you jump?

You’re not sure how long you stand by the front door, but it’s long enough that the sun sets outside and the room turns dark. You stare at the door, waiting for Donghyuck to come back. You wait for the door to open and for him to run through, hugging you and whispering that he’ll be here for you. You can only walk up to the door and slide down onto your knees, your forehead pressed against the cool wood as you wait.

Tears run down your cheeks silently, your eyes red and your head hurts. You keep your forehead pressed against the door for the whole night, waiting for him to come back. You wait, and wait, and wait. Donghyuck never comes back.

Your heart rips open from pain, it feels like it’s bleeding onto the floor in front of you. Your mind is numb from any other emotion, your body is cold from sitting on the floor, but you can’t get yourself to stand up. That’s when you realize, this is it. This is how Donghyuck hurts you.

What a sick and twisted way for fate to finally serve up her plan. You almost forgot who Donghyuck is supposed to be; the one who loves you, and the one who hurts you the most.

— read epilogue here

[nirikeehan]

Happy Friday! You have a bad things happen bingo and I am here for it! How about "Faux-Affectionate Villain" for Dorian? (Yes I am predictable, gotta pick on my favorite mages)

wkfjnkjgrn this was incredible, thank you. I am combining this with your previous prompt from a non-bingo list: "Black and Blue: Write about a time you’ve been physically hurt." This was my first time writing for Dorian and I had a blast. Enjoy this as of yet untitled whumpfest!

For @dadrunkwriting and @badthingshappenbingo

Series: Dragon Age: Inquisition

Characters: Dorian Pavus, Raleigh Samson, aaaand... Corypheus. Yeah, I really wanted to write Dorian snarking at Corypheus for 2000 words. 🤷‍♀️

Also, sorry in advance to any Samson stans – he is Not Nice in this one.

---

By all accounts, the dungeon was dreadful.

Dorian had never been one for dungeons, especially not the sort people built in the south. Too drafty, too dim, too… stoney and full of chains. On the whole. He was certainly not biased on the subject, being manacled to the wall at present.

“And not even in the fun way,” he lamented, with a tragic sigh.

The sigh proved to be too much: it turned into a cough, which blossomed into a spasm of pain that left him gasping. Well, that wouldn’t do at all. It was a shame Corypheus’s forces hadn’t seen fit to send him a healer, because the torso of his hand-crafted mage robes were stained with a worrying bit of blood. And now breathing was becoming a chore.

This might be the end, you know, said an annoying voice inside his head. It bothered him from time to time, and Dorian hated it because it sounded an awful lot like him. When he wasn’t tempering it with wine, acerbic wit, or outright lies, sometimes it scared him. To his bones.

“Nonsense,” he muttered through gritted teeth. “It’s only a matter of time before the heroic rescue arrives.”

The voice ran through a vast number of practical reasons why a heroic rescue was unlikely: he had been grabbed alone; the enemy had surprised the Inquisition and vastly outnumbered them in this region; the shattering blow from the Red Templar had been the last he saw of his colleagues before he blacked out. It was entirely possible the Inquisition already believed him to be dead. And even if they didn’t, what was the loss of one Tevinter? Wasn’t he barely an improvement over Corypheus and his Venatori to the likes of them?

“Oh, do shut up,” Dorian said cheerfully; it was the only way to deal with self-doubt, he’d learned.

It might be true that the majority of the Inquisition thought him an arrogant worm, representative of the Imperium and all of its slovenly decadence, but he was confident he had the Inquisitor in his corner. He and Thalia often wiled away long nights huddled over thick tomes in Skyhold’s library whilst discussing Tevinter culture, ancient magics, and what a society ruled by mages might look like in the south. Unfortunately, although she was the Inquisitor, Dorian couldn’t be sure whether her insistence alone would cause a rescue to materialize. That much he conceded to the fretting voice in his head.

The door to his cell swung open on creaking hinges. In stepped two guards — the frightful red lyrium sort, with crimson eyes and large crystals sticking out of their shoulders — and between them, a man with dark hair, fancy armor, and a swagger meant to broadcast that he was in charge.

“Ah,” Dorian said brightly, “so nice to finally be greeted by an envoy befitting my importance.” He grinned at the guards and the man they flanked. “It’s you, isn’t it? The other one — the Cullen, but for Corypheus. Stanley, or some such?”

Something dangerous flashed in the man’s eyes; evidently, he took offense to being compared to the Inquisition’s commander. “That’ll be General Samson to you.”

Dorian had heard about Samson — mostly from Cullen over chess games. Cullen’s disdain for his former colleague betrayed some serious bad blood, the cause of which Dorian had not yet been able to wheedle out of the Commander. Although he was certain the tale was a juicy one, he had difficulty squaring the version Cullen vowed to obliterate with the one standing before him.

“I have to say, I’m not impressed.” Dorian cocked his head. “As army generals go, the Inquisition’s is much better looking. The receding hairline does you no favors, Stanley. Might I suggest a full shave of the skull? And perhaps some facial hair? I hear a bald head plus goatee is all the rage amongst nefarious villains this season.”

Samson stepped forward and gave him a swift kick in the ribs, which provided Dorian all the information he needed, and perhaps some internal bleeding as well. Capricious and arbitrarily cruel, this Samson. Perhaps Cullen was right after all.

“Heard he had a mouth on him,” Samson said. “That ought to shut him up for awhile. Let’s go, boys.”

Much to Dorian’s surprise, interrogation and torture were not on the roster. Instead, while he struggled to see past the writhing pain, Samson’s men hauled him up, unchained him from the wall, and shackled his wrists together behind his back. Then they marched him from the cell — well, they marched. Dorian stumbled along, every step agony.

By the time they got him up the steep tower steps, Dorian was certain that if his ribs hadn’t been broken before, they were now. After he had fallen the second time, one of Samson’s thugs had to hold his elbow to keep him upright. Which was probably for the best, because afterward they took him right into Corypheus’s throne room.

It was, in a word, hideous. More damp stonework, laden with blood red tapestries, lyrium deposits jutting out hither and thither. Dorian wanted to blame the terrible decor on primitive southron sensibilities, but Corypheus was Tevinter, for Maker’s sake! Were tastes truly that abysmal a thousand years ago, whenever Corypheus had been mortal?

The throne itself was gold, which clashed with its surroundings, but Dorian was forced to respect the symbolism of it. The golden city, killing gods, golden thrones — he understood the motif. That didn’t mean he had to like it.

He wondered, briefly, if he had gone delirious from the wound. He must have, surely? Because there was Corypheus himself, lounging on the high seat, looking less like a man and more like a thing — a mummified corpse with stunted wings, perpetual scowl, and glowing rocks fused to his face. Yet Dorian’s fear felt quite far away, as if it were happening to someone down the hall. Not him, not as he staggered toward this monstrous creature, bound and helpless.

Corypheus met his gaze, and did something truly horrifying.

He smiled.

“Dorian Pavus,” he said, with a voice like shifting tectonic plates. “We finally meet. Alexius told me so much about you.”

Oh, Dorian thought. This is where I either vomit or faint. How unbecoming. Horror shot through his entire body, down to his toes. Corypheus spoke with the approving tone of a Circle professor — not that Dorian had heard it directed at him overmuch. The thought that Corypheus had spoken to anyone about him personally, let alone Gereon Alexius, was enough to make him wish he’d never been born.

He burst out laughing. Immediately, he was hit with pain so intense he doubled over. The Red Templars kept him aloft with firm grips. Samson stood between him and Corypheus, growing markedly less patient the longer Dorian giggled, which was, to be fair, quite a few minutes.

“He’s gone mad, Your Grace,” Samson growled. He reached for the sword at his side. “Let me put him out of his misery.”

“Stay your hand,” Corypheus commanded, and the room went deathly still. Corypheus’s voice had a sort of booming quality to it that reverberated off the walls and into one’s very soul. “General, take your men and leave us.”

Samson sneered. “But — Your Worship, he could—”

“And remove his shackles before you go,” Corypheus added.

Samson stood for a long moment, clenching his jaw. Dorian thought that perhaps he was regretting his choice of employers. Finally, he nodded to his soldiers. They grabbed Dorian roughly by the arms. After some jostling and twisting, his hands fell free. Dorian braced himself against a stone pillar, rubbing his wrists were the metal had bitten them, and watched the Red Templars file from the throne room.

As the door slammed, he turned back to the man who would be God. “So. This is — shall I say? Unexpected.”

“Is it?” Corypheus held up one skeletal claw-like hand, as if in a gesture of helplessness. “What is so unexpected about one Tevinter wishing to speak to another?”

“As if you were any normal Tevinter,” Dorian spat. “Not the one who destroyed the very heavens.”

“You sound bitter. How narrow-minded, when you could be the one sitting beside me once I usher in a new world order.”

Dorian wanted to blame the pain that pulsed through him with every ragged breath — this must be a hallucination — but Corypheus sat placidly, his tumescent face awaiting a response.

Dorian cleared his throat. “Pretty sure Stanley thinks he’s got that seat reserved.”

“Samson shall fulfill his purpose in due time, as will all my minions. But no, he shall not be entering the Black City at my side.”

“Too bad for him,” Dorian mumbled. Staying upright was becoming difficult. Soon he would slide right down this pillar, and wouldn’t that look pathetic. He shifted his weight, breath catching from a sharp stab somewhere near his kidney. “And why exactly would you want me instead?”

“I spoke at length with Alexius about you, as I mentioned.” Did Dorian detect a fondness in his voice? It was difficult to tell, as it sounded distorted, artificially low — as if he were using some sort of spell to make it more formidable. Wouldn’t that be a scandal? But no, it was probably just the result of being killed and reborn that many times. “From the sound of it, you are every inch the ideal Tevinter man. Pure of blood, sound of mind, fit of body.”

Dorian nearly choked to prevent another laughing fit. Apparently Alexius had never mentioned certain details if Corypheus thought Dorian to be the ideal Tevinter man — but the last thing he wanted to consider right now was how socially progressive this deranged half-zombie might be. “Oh, Corypheus, I am terribly afraid that Alexius did oversell me.”

“Not from what I have observed.” Corypheus paused. “Are you in pain?”

“However did you deduce that?” Dorian asked, who had slipped into more of a crouch than a stand.

Corypheus stood, which was a terrifying experience in itself, as he was at least eight feet tall. He sauntered closer, until Dorian was entirely enveloped in his shadow. Against his will, he shivered.

The towering monster reached out and waved a hand in front of Dorian’s body. The pain melted away, like frost in the morning sun. Dorian inhaled sharply — nothing seemed wrong, no pesky cracked ribs or seeping wounds. He had never seen such powerful healing magic before, not in all his years of study.

He straightened, craning his neck to see up into Corypheus’s atrocious face. “I suppose you’re expecting me to thank you.”

“It would be polite.”

“Well,” Dorian huffed, “you’re about to learn that I am, in fact, an insufferable cad.”

Corypheus’s eyes bore into him. Dorian’s hands flexed at his sides. He estimated he could throw a fire spell or two before he was disintegrated on the spot. “All that nonsense the Venatori believe, about Tevinter supremacy. That comes from you then, does it?”

“Of course not. They simply share my beliefs. They so happen to be the correct ones.”

“Beliefs that declare Tevinter bloodlines superior to all else,” Dorian said breezily.

Corypheus nodded. “Indeed.”

“And you want me for my ‘supreme Tevinter blood.’” Dorian felt a little ill just saying it.

“Of a sort. It is a necessary requirement, but your accomplishments speak for themselves. You are wasted in the pathetic rebellion that calls itself the Inquisition. If you were to cast aside that weak little girl you consider your savior—”

“Oh, I wouldn’t underestimate that ‘weak little girl’ if I were you.” Dorian looked away. These words might be his last, and he didn’t want to squander his final moments looking at the abomination that was the once-Magister’s visage. “This is the part where you try to get me to betray the Inquisition, isn’t it? Well, you can save your breath. If you do still breathe and are not powered entirely by dread necromancy.”

It seemed Corypheus would have cocked an eyebrow, had he possessed one. “You do not even want to banter back and forth about it?”

“Why bother? The answer is ‘no.’ No a hundred thousand times over. I would die before serving you tea, you withered old husk, never mind turning my cloak for you. Not a chance.” Dorian grinned. “So you might as well kill me now and get it over with.”

Corypheus stood silently. Dorian looked beyond him, at the gaudy throne, and waited. He hoped Varric would write an epic chapter about his noble sacrifice and tragic, untimely demise. He damn well better convey how handsome I was, Dorian thought, annoyed that he had never sat the wordsmith down and hammered out the specifics. I want boys and girls swooning over me from the Kocari Wilds to the bloody Anderfels…

The death stroke never arrived. At last Dorian looked up, against his better judgment, because it meant taking in Corypheus’s ruined face again. The undead Magister was staring at him with either a scowl or a neutral expression — it was difficult to tell.

“Very well,” Corypheus said, and sounded almost tired — but surely that was Dorian’s imagination. “It was worth the attempt. Back to the dungeons, then. You are too valuable to kill, my dear Dorian.”

As he was being dragged back downstairs in chains, he smiled. Alive was far preferable to dead. Now he just had to hold out for that rescue, the one that had to be in the works. Positive thinking was half the battle — and at that, Dorian Pavus was a master.

[quazartranslates]

Welcome to the Nightmare Game II - CH45

**This is an edited machine translation. For more information, please [click here]**

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Chapter 45: Star Death Reality Show (XXVIII)

His right hand slammed against the emergency close button, and his body rushed out with the instant acceleration from pushing off it. As if Qi Leren had thought about the plan in his mind for a long time, he opened a hand and threw a grenade behind him without looking, sprinted out like an arrow leaving the string, and repeated this old trick when he rounded the corner, throwing down another hand grenade!

Two consecutive explosions shook the corridor like a tottering boat. Qi Leren threw himself to the ground, feeling the turbulent heat flow from the corner and blow his hair into a mess.

He coughed twice on the ground, got up, and ran away again.

Leviathan didn't catch up, and Qi Leren who had already run to the floor where the arsenal was located finally breathed a sigh of relief.

The research institute was huge, and it would take "extraordinary luck" to run into that monster again. However, he didn’t know whether Leviathan had a sensitive sense of smell... Qi Leren looked back, and the world was immersed in a bright silence. This kind of terror hidden under the light was frightening.

He Yi had been parasitized by Leviathan, who was obviously Su He’s doing. He himself had said that he’d released the dangerous creature in the underground glacier. The octopus was similar to the alien queen in Aliens, much more difficult to deal with than the ordinary octopuses. What's more, it also had human intelligence... Hey, why did you listen attentively to He Yi just now and forget to smash his head?

Qi Leren walked on, and when he came to the corridor where the arsenal was located, he saw at a glance that Dr. Lu was poking around.

"Ah! Qi Leren! You’re still alive!" Dr. Lu excitedly ran out, "How is it on your side? Have you seen Su He?"

"Have you met Du Yue?" Qi Leren asked.

Du Yue also ran out of the arsenal and took Qi Leren's arm: "Qianbei! I thought you were going to die! Thank god! You can't die!"

Hey, what did this kid say? Qi Leren lamented Du Yue, who was too agitated and incoherent, and patted him on the shoulder in comfort.

"Why is that guy so stalker-ish?" Dr. Lu muttered with a bitter expression.

Qi Leren said with a straight face: "He can hear you."

Dr. Lu's face went white with fear, staring at him, looking overwhelmed.

"I’m just scaring you, he should be gone." Qi Leren pondered that Su He seemed to have too much free time. He was acting as both a prison guard and a Devil, and he also had a lot of beautiful subordinates. No matter how much he divided his time, he couldn’t do everything. He shouldn’t be idle enough to come here to peep at how a group of wannabes did in their task.

Dr. Lu was relieved and complained, "Don't scare me all the time."

Only Du Yue, who had never seen Su He, wondered: "Who is Su He?"

Dr. Lu quickly waved his hand: "A super terrible Devil, who is cruel, cunning, and ruthless, the worst in the universe! Your qianbei was killed by him before, and his death was miserable. You could say he’s a freak!"

Du Yue was taken aback: "So bad…"

Qi Leren, who had died miserably: "........"

"Yes, your qianbei's boyfriend is grief-stricken, and he’s still wandering the world, unaware that he’s still alive."

Du Yue was dumbfounded again: "Ah, my qianbei has a boyfriend? Isn't it a beautiful woman? Qianbei said that she was particularly beautiful!"

Dr. Lu looked at Qi Leren silently. Qi Leren, who had once talked with this youth about first loves while they were watching Annie, coughed twice: "Don't talk about this now, I have something very important to say: in the glancer beneath the institute..."

Forcibly changing the subject was successful. Qi Leren locked the door of the arsenal, briefly explained the previous events, and skipped a lot of things. He only told the two people about Su He's saying that he had released Leviathan from the underground glacier, and told them about his previous fight with the monster.

"We need a temperature below minus forty degrees? Awesome, our temperature regulating clothes only guarantee that we won't lose heat in environments above minus 30 degrees. Once the temperature drops below minus 30, we won't last long, and even worse when it reaches minus 40. If you cool down that much, you may as well sign your will. To tell the truth, it's quite amazing that you can still insist on not wearing gloves..." Dr. Lu looked at Qi Leren's bare hands and then at his own hands in thick gloves and couldn't help showing envious eyes.

Qi Leren moved his fingers. Although he was cold, he wasn’t frozen. He had good resistance to cold now, otherwise he probably wouldn’t have escaped just now.

"I can't think of a way to deal with it now." Qi Leren walked around the arsenal to find the weapons he needed. "Shall we set a trap and blow it up here?"

"You can try, but if there’s an explosion in the arsenal...……S/L Data can't save you from the fire after the explosion," Dr. Lu worried.

There were indeed difficulties. There were too many explosives in the arsenal. If the explosion lasted for several seconds, even if he saved here, the resurrected Qi Leren would still be blown to pieces.

"What should we do then?" Du Yue looked sad.

Qi Leren was also depressed, and he had to worry about another question: "How much private time do you have left?"

"This is reset at 8:00 every morning...I only have half an hour left." Dr. Lu was even more sad.

"Me too." Du Yue was also worried.

Qi Leren looked at his privacy time that was less than half an hour, which was also a headache.

After the privacy time ran out, the invisible camera that followed him would ignore his instructions and shoot him from 360 degrees without any privacy. In this way, he could neither use unscientific skill cards indiscriminately nor discuss things with Dr. Lu.

If only this thing had been blown up when Mark blasted it with a rocket launcher... Unfortunately, he had used the "Prophet's Heart" at that time and he was unscathed. Sadly, even the camera was preserved.

"Where are the others?" Qi Leren asked Du Yue.

"They ran away, and then I only met Dr. Lu," Du Yue said sullenly.

"Don't worry about them, you can't stop them from dying." Dr. Lu squatted on the ground heartlessly. "Think about how to get home alive first. By now, this task is definitely not C-level. We might say there is also an A. This Leviathan looks much more difficult than the crazy lady of B-level. "

Of course, Qi Leren thought. This Leviathan was released by Su He in order to force him to level up. However, now he didn't even know what the principle of a half-field was, because his teacher Chen Baiqi hadn't expected him, a loser student, to break his shell. In her prediction, this wouldn't happen for a long time.

The plan couldn’t keep up with the changes

"Let’s think about it again... This amphioctopus is intelligent, strong defensively, fast, and aggressive... I’m afraid it’s also very strong, and ordinary weapons can't handle it. I’ll try the rocket launcher next time." Qi Leren was also very worried about this weapon that he had never used before. There was no instruction manual for weapons here, and Chen Baiqi had never taught him how to use it.

Dr. Lu and Du Yue looked at him with eyes full of doubts.

Qi Leren coughed: "Let’s think of another plan, I don't think this is foolproof."

Qi Leren’s biggest reliance was the Prophet's Heart given to him by the Prophet, but the cooldown time of this item was as long as 24 hours. To try to wait for this to finish its cooldown, Qi Leren didn't think they could spend 20 hours safely.

Then what else can I do...

Glacier.

Underground glacier.

This word jumped into Qi Leren's mind without warning, and he suddenly remembered what He Yi had said before he died: "...Even if it’s frozen in the extremely cold environment of minus 40 degrees, it will not die, but will only go to sleep. It’s like the amphioctopuses’ soldier ant, and its fighting capacity far exceeds that of the workers. Leviathan is different from the ordinary octopuses. As long as it senses the approach of living creatures, it will be forcibly thawed..."

He Yi wanted to express the danger of Leviathan, but if you thought about it carefully, wasn't this its weakness?

40 degrees below zero wouldn’t kill it, but it would go to sleep. If he could lead it back to the underground glacier and then escape quickly, so that Leviathan, that couldn't sense the biological atmosphere around it, went to sleep, then he could wait for the Prophet's Heart to cool down before going back and killing it.

The more he thought about it, the more he felt that this may be the only way.

"I have an idea," Qi Leren said into the silence. "The danger of confronting it is too great. My idea is that I’ll lure it into the underground glacier and let it return to its dormant state again."

Then Qi Leren explained his reasons, and discussed specific measures with Dr. Lu and Du Yue. The biggest problem was that Leviathan has intelligence, and it was difficult to set traps for it.

"We haven't been to the underground glacier. I don't know what the terrain is like. If it’s an underground crevasse or a huge underground lake, even you will be in danger. Why don't we try the laser corridor, surely it isn’t stronger than steel plates?" Dr. Lu also had an idea.

Du Yue nodded at the side: "Yes qianbei, it’s too dangerous for you to lure it to the underground glacier."

"He Yi knew about the laser corridor, and that I can pass through it. It would be difficult to lead it into that trap... But it reminds me that we need to find the others. After making sure that they haven’t been infected by the octopuses, I want to send them out of the research institute first, and then re-seal the basement of Annie's house. If they’re running around here, they could easily be killed by Leviathan," Qi Leren said.

The corner of Dr. Lu’s mouth twitched: "I think they aren’t already done for."

It was hard for Qi Leren to refute.

"But if you want to lure it to the underground glacier, will it be fooled?" Du Yue asked.

Qi Leren tried to maintain a strong smile: "Yes."

Only on this point, Qi Leren had full confidence. He would be able to taunt the monster’s ire towards him. As long as the laser corridor trap wasn’t in front of it, this monster would be like the most loyal boyfriend, only watching him in a crowd, abandoning all temptations and running towards him.

The two EX lucks, Dr. Lu and Du Yue, were just like wild flowers and weeds on the roadside, which were ignored by this single-minded monster.

This kind of thing had happened so many times that Qi Leren was used to it.

Time passed by, and there was only ten minutes left in Qi Leren's privacy time. The three people discussed how to explain it to the audience later, and unanimously recommended that Dr. Lu pretend to be the anchor, so that he could think of his lines quickly.

Dr. Lu wore a tearful expression as he auditioned:

Ladies and gentlemen of the audience, I have bad news. Just now, XXX went crazy, together with XXXX. Then they were all killed by Qi Leren and God. This god-like Qi Leren is neither a special soldier of the military nor an interstellar mercenary. Please believe that he is just an actor... Oh no, a lead singer of a tone-deaf band. Next, the lead singer of the strongest band in history is going to fight the boss. Please look forward to it.

"You really seem like a default actor. Come on, is this filming?" Anchor Lu said with disgust.

The heavy-hearted Qi Leren was not in the mood to make jokes and rolled his eyes.

He didn't want to waste any more time, so he could quickly took care of Leviathan and then set off for Ning Zhou in Purgatory.

Qi Leren pondered it. He could only use Save/Load now. Secretly Observing and Rain Day Laundry were cooling down alongside Prophet’s Heart. There were still Pleasing Rations left, but according to his experience, this monster was not in the range of creatures that could be bought off.

Then there were these weapons. Qi Leren picked up a rocket launcher and weighed it on his shoulder. Dr. Lu opened his mouth and said, "Wow, have you used that?"

"No, but I was shot at with one and hit straight on," Qi Leren said.

Dr. Lu looked at him with an expression of "I know you’re acting, but for the sake of friendship, I will barely cooperate with you." Only Du Yue, who was stupid, sincerely praised: "Qianbei is so powerful!"

Qi Leren glanced at the time. It was the early morning of the fifth day. Let's make it quick.

Dr. Lu considered his physical condition and suggested that Qi Leren rest for a few hours to refresh himself. Anyway, the door to the weapons room had been locked by him, so there was no need to worry about Leviathan breaking in.

In the past, Qi Leren might have thought about it, but now he was full of thoughts about Ning Zhou and refused this proposal.

Dr. Lu sighed: "Well, suit yourself. In fact, I’ve thought about waiting in this arsenal until the army arrives and rescues me. Either way, it can't get in."

Qi Leren was not so optimistic. The monster would come up with a way to break into the room sooner or later. Here, he could only wait to die, and...

Suddenly there was a slight noise above his head, as if something was crawling in a pipe. The three men looked up and looked at the metal ceiling above their heads, and fell into a strange silence.

Qi Leren suddenly thought of a problem.

The air of this large underground research institute was unexpectedly clean, and there was no staleness of air being trapped. Its exhaust facilities were obviously operational.

Qi Leren's eyes turned to the vents in the corner of the ceiling. There was a metal shutter one meter square. It seemed that the sound of something crawling had come from there!

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[sakurology]

Brainrot Kinktober 10/29

treat like gold

Lingerie: Alisa Haiba x Fem!Reader

Warnings: not a lot ??? I don’t think? Light voyeurism, light exhibitionism, Dom!Alisa a little bit, never thought I’d write scissoring but that’s in there, fingering, some bad words, ummmmmm yeah I think that’s it? Just wanna be topped by the woman of my dreams

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: lmfao I found out Alisa is an Aries and chaos ensued I’m so sorry 👀 also ty @whet-ones-write for being my lovely beta reader bc sometimes we can’t all die like men also kiska is just a Russian pet name, it’s the equivalent to “kitten” in English!

Brainrot Kinktober Mlist

Red has always been her color. No matter what she wore, no matter how many runways she walked, no matter how many campaigns she had booked- she always stood out the most in red. It was her lucky color, and her lucky red pumps that got her the deal with the biggest up and coming intimates brand, TLG Lingerie.

Red was her lucky color, and the bane of your existence.

Being friends and living with a model obviously had its perks- her agency pays your rent; and you live in a fucking penthouse for starters. You get to go to a ton of industry parties, and of course, getting to see your amazing best friend live her dreams and cheer her on felt good. But you’d be a liar if you didn’t admit that it was also self-indulgent of you to be her assistant- you were the one that told her agency to send her on the TLG go-see… you’re the one who suggested the stylist change her from the white piece to the red one… you are the reason that those test shots of her in a fiery red bra, stocking, and garter set are sitting on your kitchen table right now- and let’s not even get started on the red marabou babydoll that you insisted she wear. You did this to yourself.

Fucking masochist. Now look at you. You’re a mess.

Your fingers were knuckle deep in your own wetness, your free hand aggressively kneading your breast as you rutted your hips against your hand, softly reciting her name as your face twisted in a torturous buildup. There was no way to prepare for the way the door flung open…. you hadn’t even heard her come into the penthouse.

“Hey, Y/N I was going to order Thai for din- OH!”

Your motions ceased, the feeling of your orgasm was instead replaced by a burning heat and anxious nausea as your eyes met Alisa’s in the doorway. Neither of you could move or speak- it felt like life was moving in slow motion.

“I didn’t know you were busy, I'm sorry,” Alisa spoke.

Her eyes were unmoving, not only looking at you but through you. Her breathing wavered as she bent over to pick up the discarded takeout menu. You finally regained enough composure to cover yourself- still dazed and utterly mortified.

“I didn’t know I had that effect on you.”

You wanted to feign ignorance, hell, you wanted to die- but in this moment playing dumb was the only thing you could do- until she picked up the still you had casually slipped into your pocket when she originally had the TLG shoot.

“You know, you could’ve just asked for a still,” she lamented, starting to make her way over to you. While your eyes widened with fear, her’s awakened with intrigue. She sat at the corner of the living room sectional tracing the corners of the photograph with her fingertips, eyes fluttering back and forth between it and you.

Finally settling her gaze, Alisa laid back, settling into your mattress with a sigh. Your body tensed as she stared- her eyes have always been her sharpest feature against her delicate appearance.

“Go ahead,” she goaded. “Finish what you started.”

It was a pointed command. Biting her lip, she pulled away the throw blankets that you had been so desperately clutching, cool air hitting your skin as you let out a shaky exhale. You stomach twisted ín self- consciousness, but you couldn’t stop either- an unexplainable tether pulled you. Readjusting yourself on the couch, you rested your back flush against the supportive cushion, spreading more to give her a full show of your puffy, slick-coated lips and inner thighs. She flopped onto her stomach, peering up at you from the foot of the couch intently.

“I- I-...” Finally, you were able to utter a syllable. It wasn’t of much use.

“You what?” She teased tilting her head curiously and almost in an innocent fashion. “You weren’t this stiff a minute ago~”

Your cheeks were hot, but your core was even hotter. Slowly, you slid a finger across your clit, jerking at the contact while she watched. As you rubbed some more tiny circles, one by one the soft whimpers from before started to fill the room yet again. You and Alisa kept eyes locked on each other as you curled in one of your fingers, then another, the open mouthed ‘o’ spreading across your face as her eyes darkened even more. She was beautiful- but sinister in her line of questioning.

“Does it feel good?”

You nodded.

“Do you do this often? Do you play with yourself and wish it were me?”

You fixed your lips to say no but nothing came out as you saw her begin to unbutton her blouse. It would’ve been a lie anyway. You’ve wanted her for as long as you’ve been friends. You’ve wanted her ever since you met.

“You shouldn’t be using photos of me if you have the real thing,” the fabric flowed off of her body to reveal the bra from the photographs- the fiery red lace and golden ‘TLG’ hook in the middle. Alisa began to crawl toward you, stopping just short of your feet to shimmy her way out of the pencil skirt she had been wearing for all of her go-sees that day. The matching red thong came into view, the full effect of the photos paling in comparison to the actual sight in front of you.

“Especially not when you can have the real thing anytime you want.”

By now her face was so close to yours that her breath tickled you. You had unconsciously sped up the motions of your fingers, a third falling in line with the others and pistoning itself in and out of your pussy. Alisa cooed and mewled, nodding at you with sweet praises falling from her lips. Taking your free hand, she guided you to her own chest, hands just grazing her barely covered tits- then to her lips, pulling two of your fingers into her mouth. As your jaw was hanging open, all you could do was manage a half sob from the back of your throat. The dizzying feeling of what was happening combining with the lightheadedness you were already feeling begin to well up inside of you.

There was a moment of stillness from you as Alisa leaned down to eye your glistening heat. Your breath hitched in the back of your throat as her fingertips found a way up your chin, brushing past your lips as you began to suckle almost instinctively. Pleased with your eagerness, she looked up at you through her thick lashes, batting her eyes.

“How about we just… touch each other hm?” The suggestion hung in the air, only punctuated by your ragged breathing and a desperate “please” that squeaked from your throat, raw from straining and holding in the moans of your impending high.

“I’ve barely touched you, y/n.” she hummed. “You’re so desperate. It’s cute.” Her little giggle made your walls clench haphazardly at her teasing. Slowly, she slipped herself out of the red fabric at her hips, neatly placing the bundled thong in your mouth as a makeshift gag.

“I can’t let you have all the fun…”

Alisa’s finger trailed up your slit, collecting the pooling wetness that coated your lower half. She smiled, taking it into her mouth, humming at the taste of your essence. Her weight shifted as she moved herself to dangle over you, repositioning one of your legs and interlocking your fingers with hers to hold a semblance of balance as she lowered her own hips to meet yours. Slowly, she ran herself against you, making sure to guide your hips to match her own ministrations. You strained against each other, juices mixing as you began to work up an even pace.

“How long have you wanted this?” Her flowery moans filled the room with an unexpected rasp, one contrasting that of her normally demure voice. She was a completely new person- a sapphic vixen driven by nothing more than the feeling the sins of your flesh.

“I - fuck,” you panted, taking a sharp inhale as you felt two of her fingers suddenly begin to slowly stretch you. “Fuck, I’ve wanted this so bad.”

Her other free hand began to pinch and tweak at your hardened nipples, wanton cries spilling out of your lips and into hers, muffled under her kiss.

“Mhmmm, I know you have, kiska,” Alisa moaned, craning her neck down to your earlobe, gently blowing on it as she continued to grind down into you. Your walls flushed with heat at the roughness of her mother tongue combining with her soft voice.

“Everyone wants to fuck me. I’m Alisa fucking Haiba.”

Your walls clamping onto her fingers was confirmation enough that she was right, a smug chuckle and click of her tongue resounding in your ear as she locked her gaze with that of your own.

Her clit slid against yours with each buck of your hips, the sudden motions combined with her fingers curling against your soft walls again sparking the painstaking buildup of a knot in your stomach. Alisa’s eyes never left yours as one of her delicate, expertly manicured hands found its way to each side of your neck, gently squeezing. No sound escaped your lips, but your jaw was stuck open as she started to speed up her movement, rutting her cunt against yours even more aggressively than before.

The pleasurable friction between you two had your eyes screw shut before you could even get one last look at her face. You came undone with a shrill cry, hips bucking almost manically as you rode it out. The self satisfying smirk on Alisa’s face said it all.

Wiping the hairs from your sweaty forehead she kissed you again, hopping up and darting toward the stairs, leaving you panting breathlessly.

“What about the food?” Your voice was barely above a hoarse croak. It was scratchy and raw, even though you had barely made any sounds. Too much straining had taken its toll, and that was evident.

“That can wait,” she called. She was halfway up the stairs, looking down at you from the landing’s balcony.

“I’m gonna go put on the babydoll…. and get my toy box.”

Brainrot Kinktober Taglist (if your url is bolded, check ur privacy settings!): @ukaic @definitelythotful @shrimpypenis @nonexistent-social-life @crushingonsuga @revolutionary-chocolate-cake @right-shoe-jpg @sugawara-sweetheart @nxynxy @aoba-baby @arianna20 @scorpiosanssexy @ceo-of-daichi @dinosaurtsukki @turquoiselace @nonamemaximum @omibaby @chokemelevi @bokuakadaily @haikyuuangst @cutie-aesthetic-palace @whet-ones-write @superdepressedhoe @iwachanswh0re @crushzone @kiseox @mysticalroadnightempath @toobsessedsstuff @trouvelle @kodzu-ken @elianetsantana @sonyaroses-blog @tsukkisbitch @mrs-kuroojinguji @tendousfingers

[steepgan]

someone dear (i) — d. ragnvindr x f!reader

PART I - PART II - PART III

bye i created this on a whim ive always wanted to write an mc who just likes money yet still carries the “happiness/freedom” ideals of mondstadt.. essentially its an mc whos like hell yeah i love money <3 and fun..!!! okay also i did not edit this at all i was just like <3 writing time baby..

Of course, working for the wealthiest gentleman in Mondstadt was no easy task. There were two places you could work: Dawn Winery or Angel’s Share. The winery, settled in the countryside, was a cozy job with friendly workers who saw rolling hills of green every day; however, the only available occupation within your skillset was being a maid. So you worked at Angel’s Share which was planted in the city, and there you were greeted with weary workers and angry people. It was plenty more fun, anyway.

Your boss was as impassive as a tree, giving you your pay and leaving you be. He kept a strange emotional distance. Which was fine. Totally fine. But whenever you wanted a raise, his aloof attitude warded you off and you’d tell yourself you’d try next time.

Growing up in a household where money was a prominent figure in your life, you had materialistic values and a great love for money. So during your employment at the tavern, you picked up more shifts than anyone else and seldom splurged. You were stuck giving your laments to your friends and returning customers who were kind enough to humor wails.

“One of these days, Lisa, I’m actually going to lose it,” you said to the librarian of the knights. You slumped your body on the bar, clearly in a professional fashion. “What do you want to drink?”

Lisa gave you a pitying look. “You could always become a knight or an adventurer. They receive plenty of pay through commissions.”

“No, thank you! I kind of want to live.”

“I don’t think I’ll have anything to drink,” Lisa said. She laughed at your sullen expression. “Today, at least. I have to explore these ruins later today. I really, really don’t want to, but Jean is making me.”

You slid a tin can labelled TIPS to Lisa. “Every time you don’t want to do something it’s five mora.”

“Since when did this become a thing?”

“It’s always been a thing. I was just giving you a family-friend discount up until now.”

Lisa dropped the coins into the can. You smiled at the sound of click-clank. Lisa rested her cheek on the palm of her hand and said, “have you ever thought about… not working for the tavern? I’m sure there are other places in the world that’ll appreciate your pleasant company.”

“Yeah, but Master Diluc pays the best in Mondstadt if you don’t have a decent education under your belt,” you said dryly. “I’d have to travel out of Mondstadt to find a better opportunity.”

“There’s always the cathedral,” Lisa offered. 

“Do you see me as a devout follower to any god other than money? [Name], Humble Follower of Barbatos Since The Beginning! Engrave that on my tombstone, would you?”

“I don’t really want to do that.”

You pushed the tin can toward the librarian.

Lo and behold, the man of the hour strutted in with his typical apathy. If he carried himself with a more open chest and with his chin up, you’d find him more agreeable, more approachable. He’d be knightly, even. But Diluc hated knights. He hated small talk, too. He hated a lot of things.

He was a man of good looks and good fortune, in addition to being Mondstradt’s most eligible brooding bachelor bastard, donning a nice black coat with golden trimmings and tassels. A coat that’d fetch a nice price if you were to pawn it off. Not that you were thinking about selling your boss’ clothes. He stood at a decent height with his vermillion messy hair tied back and narrow eyes framed with thick lashes. 

When Diluc walked through the doors, he didn’t spare you a glance before climbing up the stairs to deal with some other matters. As long as you did your job, he didn’t bother you.

Lisa whistled. “He’s so cold.”

“Pays well, though,” you murmured absentmindedly. Lisa looked as if she wanted to say something. Maybe it was something about how money didn’t exactly suffice for human relationships. Or something about her future job for the knights. Whatever was on the tip of her tongue, she chose not to say it, and dropped a few more mora coins into your little tin can.

Your relationship with Diluc was strange. You took enough shifts to be one of the most well-compensated workers under him, but you didn’t exactly know Diluc outside of his cool exterior. You didn’t know if you’d wanted to, either. Some nights, he’d come home right before the tavern’s opening, his clothes tattered and dirty and a grim feature coating his pretty features.

Typically you’d be working and cleaning, and you’d nod to him. Diluc would then take off to the second floor of the tavern. You never questioned it. You never would, either, unless you were paid to do so. 

One late night, it was just you cleaning up for the night and Diluc sitting at the bar, going through some papers. Diluc offered to take Charles’ shift for the day, to which the man was grateful for. As you were wiping down the bar, Diluc said, “I never knew we had a tip jar.”

“It’s an ongoing gag with Lisa,” you said. “Please don’t mind it.” It wasn’t a lie, exactly. It was a joke with Lisa! You simply kept it out on the counter for every customer to see all day and all night. If they happen to drop mora in there for your charming smile and excellent service, who were you to stop them?

Diluc said nothing. You hadn’t expected him to. He’d let it slide, you supposed. If the tavern had a best employee of the month award, you would have won it consecutively for the last few years you’d been employed under the pretty man. However, Diluc was no great lover of trivial awards that were actually poorly concealed incentives, and as long as you were paid accordingly, you didn’t care about awards, either.

“If you needed a raise then say it,” he said suddenly. And you were surprised.

“Thank you,” you said.

“No need.”

When you left the tavern you squealed. Patton, the caller, awoke from his nap from a chair supposedly for customers. His legs had been propped on the accompanying table, which you had cleaned earlier so you didn’t have to deal with a certain customer who had too much to drink inside.

Patton rubbed his eyes groggily. “What’s up, [Name]?”

“I got a raise!” you exclaimed. “I’m so happy I could kiss you right now, Patton.”

“Please don’t,” he said. “What’s that in your hand?”

“Oh, leftovers.” You gave the small bag you were holding a good jostle. “It’s for the dog up there. I have a habit of feeding him every once in a while whenever there’s good scraps.”

Patton eyed you. “If you get bit and infected with rabies, maybe I’ll take your raise. Try and pet it for me, would you?”

“In your dreams, Patton.”

After a few taunts and banter, you left Patton alone. In a few hours, you’d come back to the tavern to work more. Before your mom had been hospitalized, you’d maybe put your extra money to treat yourself to Good Hunter or to buy new clothes. 

Of course, while money was one of your many goals, you had other aspirations as well. More than anything, you’d like to resume a humble life in Mondstadt. If you could afford it, then you’d travel to Liyue and sightsee. And then maybe a little further. But you’d always return to Mondstadt. It was just home to you, and you liked home.

You crouched and fed the dog. He pressed his snout into your palm, warm and comforting. You giggled and finished the leftovers from your little sack. As much as Patton wanted you to die of infection, the dog was very tame and kind toward you. He let you brush his fur and scratch behind his ears. If you had enough patience and enough time, you’d teach him to bite Patton.

The next day, you were working with Charles, as per usual. He’d been working here far longer than any of you. You’d been employed here for a while now, and you’d come to know the man quite well after rowdy nights and quiet days in the tavern. He despised a drunk customer as much as you, but whenever you were on shift with him, he always offered to take care of it.

If not you, then Charles would get the nonexistent employee of the year award.

“Just put up a work wanted poster,” Charles said, cleaning a glass. “Judging by our usuals, we won’t get an honest inquiry for it in a while.”

You, who’d been making an apple cider, said, “oh, for the boars?” While you did want to work at the winery for its pleasant view and people, there were boars who’d been uprooting vines and you did not want to tussle with a boar. 

“Say, [Name], you heard of the Darknight Hero?”

“Who hasn’t?” you asked. “My friends talk about him all the time. Everyone likes a good mystery around these parts. Have you seen the library? Oh, and the idea of him being handsome isn’t that bad… Do you think he’s rich, Charles?”

Charles snorted. “If he can afford to leave at night to protect Mondstadt, then he must be rich. He’s no worker like us, but he’s definitely noteworthy. He may as well just be an urban rumor, though, so don’t go around trying to seduce him only to get into his pockets.”

“I would never!”

“I saw you make eyes at a customer who was wearing very fine jewelry that could be pawned off for a high price.”

“I liked her eyes. They were kind. Reminded me of a princess from a fairytale.”

Diluc came from upstairs to the first floor. He was the same as he’d always been—closed off, calm, and collected. Fitting. He cast a quick glance at you and Charles before disappearing outside onto the streets of Mondstadt.

“That’s Master Diluc for you,” Charles said. “So elusive you could call him a ghost. A handsome, ghost, that is.”

“I barely know anything about him,” you said. “Elusive is correct, if not absolutely distant.”

“Really? You should talk to him more often.”

There was already a set difference between you and Charles. Firstly, it would be the years working at Angel’s Share. Charles knew Diluc more than you did. You wanted to point this out, but instead you slumped your shoulders. “He’s just so unapproachable, Charles. You wouldn’t understand. That mustache of yours makes you look amicable and agreeable.”

Charles self-consciously twirled the end of his mustache. He looked as if he wanted to say something. He turned back to his work, setting the clean glass down. “You and Master Diluc seem to complement each other, that’s all.”

You were very friendly and a good person underneath all your materialistic values. Had it not been for Diluc’s offstandish personality, maybe you and Diluc would be a little more than boss and employee. Maybe you and Diluc would be friends.

Of course, your main focus was your happiness and sanity. If you’d interacted with Diluc outside of work, you might’ve gone insane. Oh! And money. It was always money. You watched a customer drop a few mora into the tip jar.

PART I - PART II - PART III

[omgrachwrites]

Tell a Tale of You and Me - Chapter One

Pairing: Sirius Black x Reader

Summary: You knew that making a bet with Sirius Black was like making a deal with the devil but you just couldn’t help yourself. You had never been a heavenly woman.

Warnings: fluffy fluff, the gang being bff’s, Remus being adorable

Words: 1920

A/N: Hope you guys enjoy, please let me know what you think and if you would like to be tagged, I might make a playlist for this series! I love you all very much! xxx

Chapter One

You smiled in slight surprise as you walked into the bright kitchen and you saw your brother, Finn out of bed. He was actually smiling as he poured himself a glass of homemade pumpkin juice, his thick curls bouncing as he moved.

“Good to see that you’re out of bed, kid,” you grinned, ruffling his hair

Finn pouted at you before smiling himself, “I didn’t think that it was such a good idea isolating myself in bed, there’s nothing that I can do about my … problem,” the way he spoke made him sound much older than his eleven years, “and Dumbledore sent an owl to mum, telling her that I’m still allowed to come to Hogwarts.”

You smiled at him proudly as you too poured yourself a glass of iced pumpkin juice, you couldn’t wait to be sitting in the sunshine outside The Leaky Cauldron with your friends, “well, you’re braver than me and of course, Dumbledore would never turn anybody away. You belong at Hogwarts.”

You were pretty surprised that your mum had confided in Dumbledore about your brother’s affliction. She had kept it a well-guarded secret from the rest of the village; she was worried that it would affect her and your dad’s job at the Ministry. They were highly respected Aurors. They were nowhere to be seen at the present moment so you fixed your brother some lunch – a cheese and tomato sandwich with the crusts cut off and you cut the sandwich into triangles, it was the only way that Finn would eat it.

As Finn ate it, he looked at you, “are you going to be on the Quidditch team this year, Y/N?” he asked and you scoffed, sipping your pumpkin juice.

“I don’t think so, I’d love to but my stage fright would never let me, you know that,” you smiled at him cheerfully; you couldn’t feel too down on such a beautiful summer’s day.

Finn pouted at you, his eyes going round, “oh, I thought it would be pretty cool, going to my first Quidditch match and my sister being on the team.”

You grinned at him, he was your biggest supporter and you appreciated that more than anything else. You were saved by replying, for your parents walked out of the living room with a beautiful woman. She was beautiful but she had hard, sharp features, it was her grey eyes that marked her, though they had none of her son’s warmth.

“Ah, Y/N L/N, you definitely grew up in beauty and grace,” she smirked at you; there was no playful glint to it. It was quite menacing to be honest.

“Mrs Black, it’s good to see you,” you lied through gritted teeth; you would never forgive her, not after what she did to Sirius.

It seemed that Mrs Black picked out your lie because her smirk widened, “so, it’s you is it? You were the one who used to pine over my eldest son.”

“A lot has happened since then,” you bit back in a defensive tone, and it was true, a lot had happened since fourth year, that was three long years ago, “I’m going to meet the gang, so I’ll see you later, you little monkey,” you kissed the top of Finn’s head and you bade goodbye to your parents, ignoring Mrs Black.

You walked over to the white marble fireplace and flung your Floo Powder down carelessly, “Diagon Alley!” you shouted clearly and you disappeared in a whirl of green flames.

When you had reached Diagon Alley, you brushed the soot from your summer dress as you carried on towards The Leaky Cauldron. You grinned, shooting a wave at James and Lily who were sitting out in the warm sunshine. Lily’s hair shone like blazing fire in the sun. They had started dating at the end of the previous school year and they were the best couple that you knew.

You walked inside the cool pub – it was alive with many people and there were even creatures such as hags, you also saw some of your Hogwarts schoolmates – and you spotted the tousled hair boy at the bar. You smiled and made your way over to him.

“Hey cutie,” you grinned, standing on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek. Remus flushed a bright red colour across his scarred cheeks, you loved flirting with Remus but the both of you knew that you would only ever be good friends.

“Hey Y/N,” he grinned as he pulled you into a side hug, “how is your brother doing?”

You smiled, it was so sweet of him to ask, “he’s doing great thank you, and he’s taking it all in his stride. Much braver than I could ever be.”

Remus nodded, “he seems braver than all of us but it’s good that he’s doing well. If I can be of any help, you just let me know.”

You beamed, jumping slightly as you felt two strong arms wrap around you from behind, “looking as pretty as ever, Y/N,” Sirius said in your ear.

You giggled and turned around to give him a proper hug, it was so weird to see him not wearing his usual leather jacket, “you’re still a flirt I see,” you had once hated his flirtatious behaviour but you had recently realised that it was no use. He was never going to change.

Sirius smirked at you before his warm grey eyes looked at something in the distance, and he whistled beneath his breath, “I’ll catch up with you guys, yeah?” he flounced off without waiting for a reply. You and Remus rolled your eyes and shook your heads fondly before taking the iced Butterbeers outside. Iced Butterbeers sounded like a weird concept but it was surprisingly delicious!

“Hey lovers,” you grinned at James and Lily as you pulled out a chair and sat down, “where’s Wormtail?” you asked.

“He’s still on holiday, I think,” James started, sipping his Butterbeer, gaining a foamy moustache in the process, “he’s been pretty secretive lately, but I suppose it’s only to be expected now that we’re getting older,” he sighed, “where’s Sirius?”

Remus snickered around his glass, “annoying some girl, knowing him.”

Moments later, Sirius came wandering over to the table, slamming a box of chocolates down in the middle of the table before he slumped into the free seat with a glum look on his face, “Marlene rejected me,” he muttered before anybody could ask.

You and Lily exchanged amused glances; the both of you knew exactly why Marlene had rejected him. Though, you did feel sorry for Sirius, he probably hadn’t been rejected by a girl before, and if he had, you couldn’t remember it. You glanced at the box and saw that it was a box of chocolate cauldrons, the ones with the Firewhisky centre. They were both yours and Remus’ favourites.

“Well, how about we share them? It’s not as bad as it seems Sirius, trust me,” he looked up at you, giving you a grateful smile that only served to enhance his handsome features.

Your idea seemed to be a good one as the five of you filled yourselves up with iced Butterbeer and chocolate cauldrons; you all laughed and joked with one another. You all lamented over the fact that this was your last year at Hogwarts and reminisced about years gone by. That afternoon was one of the best in your life. You wished that you could all stay that way forever, young, and seventeen. Though, you knew that summer couldn’t last forever.

---------------------

Sirius tapped his quill against his forehead, almost in an attempt to knock the answers from his head, he did kind of regret not doing it at James’ – he’d been living with his best mate for the past year and he couldn’t be happier. He had wanted to make the most of his last summer of freedom; he had spent the best part of it playing Quidditch with James. Sirius looked outside the compartment window at the rolling hills to distract himself from writing his essay.

The compartment door slid open and Y/N came walking in with a relieved smile as she sat down next to Remus, “everything alright?” Remus asked, not once looking up from his book.

“Yeah, everything is perfect,” she smiled, gazing out of the window.

Sirius sulked as he felt a twinge of jealousy; Y/N had been talking with his younger brother, Regulus. It had looked like she was really confiding in Regulus about something and Sirius just couldn’t imagine why she hadn’t talked to him. She wasn’t even friends with Regulus.

“What were you and Regulus talking about?” he narrowed his eyes at the pretty girl that was sitting opposite him and he ignored Lily’s smirk.

Y/N looked over at him with a mocking grin, “if you must know, your mum came over to my house over the summer to speak to my parents. I thought that Regulus might know why. I would have asked you but I think it’s plainly obvious that you wouldn’t know. I know how much you hate your mum.”

“Oh,” Sirius said lamely, the jealousy disapparated from his body, leaving him feeling pretty stupid.

“Were you jealous, Black?” Y/N smirked, causing Sirius to scowl at her.

“In your dreams, Y/L/N,” he muttered.

Lily laughed at this interaction as she leaned over James to speak to Y/N, “never mind about him, how is Finn feeling about his first year?”

Y/N sighed happily, “oh, he’s so excited, he’s just worried about getting put in Slytherin, I think he’s more worried about my reaction. So, I told him that no matter what happens, it’ll be okay and he’ll always be my little best mate.

“Well, Slughorn was a Slytherin and he’s a nice enough fellow, he didn’t go bad or anything like that,” Lily commented reasonable, causing Y/N to beam and nod at her.

“Everything really will be alright Y/N,” Peter spoke up, taking the words right out of Sirius’ mouth.

“Yeah I know, thank you Pete,” she gave him a pretty smile.

It seemed like all too soon that the six friends were sitting in the magnificent Great Hall as they waited for the sorting ceremony to start. While they were waiting, Y/N engaged Nearly Headless Nick in conversation about his summer. Nick was complaining that his request to join the headless hunt had once again been rejected. Sirius thought that it was very sweet of Y/N to take the time to speak to him. She tried to speak to all of the ghosts, even The Bloody Baron.

The boy’s marauding plans were interrupted by the start of the sorting ceremony; all six of them seemed to be holding their breath when the Sorting Hat was placed on Finn’s little curly head, “Slytherin!” the hat called out, and little Finn looked so nervous as he wandered over to the cheery Slytherin table.

Fury rose in Sirius as Lucius Malfoy looked through the sea of people to smirk at Y/N as Finn sat down next to him, “I’m sorry Y/N.”

She shrugged, smiling at him as Gryffindor gained their newest student, “well, it was definitely the worst case scenario. In a perfect world he’d be a Gryffindor,” she sighed and Sirius wrapped an arm around her shoulders, “as long as he doesn’t hang around with Malfoy then I’ll be pretty happy, thank you though,” she giggled and grinned as the sorting ceremony ended and the golden plates were filled with mountains of delicious foods.

--------------------- 

Taglist: open

@approved-by-dentists​

[wonho-ssi]

All That Glitters

Pairing: Yuchan x Fem Reader

Type: One shot, Hybrid AU

Warnings: Mentions of violence, prejudice/discrimination towards another race, swearing

Word count: 7.2k

『 She liked to think work was boring and a place for her to quietly lose her mind, but slowly a cute hybrid boy makes her change her mind 』

This was inspired by a prompt by @hybridfanfiction. Check them out!

The day had seemed normal enough when she first woke up. There was birds chirping and there was sunlight pooling in through the cracks in her blinds. Nothing she had done that morning seemed to be out of the ordinary, nor did her commute to work; people had crossed roads as carelessly as normal and they also had the same lack of self awareness as normal.

Really, if you have asked her that morning if anything had seemed odd, she would have responded with a bark of laughter and walked away with a shake of her head and a mutter claiming you were crazy. 

However, as soon as she had stepped into the building, she found feel that something was off - more so than usual with an office building. 

Everyone was quiet, eyeing each other with suspicion and slight judgment, their lips pulled into eerily similar straight lines.  

Sitting down, the office chair squeaking under her weight, she swivelled around to face her desk mate: Changseok.

“Hey,” She whispered, though not really making any special effort to keep quiet, “what’s everyone acting so weird for?“ 

Changseok looked over at her, his brown eyes rolling in his skull to look at her blankly. Lips slowly forming a pout, he chewed on the inside of his cheek, shrugging. "Haven’t you heard?” He spoke cryptically and she had half a mind to give up there and then. The last thing she wanted to be doing so early in the morning was play 21 questions. 

“No,” came her blunt response and he leant in, as though he was going to tell her the secret of the century. His eyebrows furrowed, voice even quieter than before, making her strain to hear it.

“There’s a hybrid here now,” He stressed the noun and she blinked, completely blind sighted. However, it wasn’t because of the revelation of the person’s species, but rather his attitude towards them and the way he was saying ‘hybrid’ like it was something dirty. 

Closing her eyes for a few seconds to make sure she didn’t lose her temper, she exhaled - sound almost dulcet had it not been for the glare that pierced through him straight after. “Okay. Is that it?”

Changseok looked confused by her lack of reaction, repeating the word again, assuming that she hadn’t heard him. 

“I heard you the first time. I was just wondering why it was such a big deal,” he moved back to his own space and she thanked every god she could think of. “They’re a hybrid. So what?”

His frown deepened and she could sense how she was going to have to contain an eye roll. It was always nice to find out someone you worked with was a piece of shit. 

“It’s unnatural. They were made in labs so it’s not like they’re actually human,” she stayed silent, strong at him with an expression so cold that she almost wished he froze in front of her face. Upon her lack of a comment, he hurried to try and explain himself - not that he really cared to hear his opinion. “Don’t you think? They’re literally part animal, they’re freaks.”

With a lift of her eyebrows, she turned back to her work and shook her head. “Damn, I’ve always disliked you, but I guess now I have a concrete reason other than your simple idiocy. Never speak to me again.”

Changseok’s mouth opened (more than likely in a weak attempt to defend himself) however, she promptly ignored him and got up, shooting him one last withering look before walking away and to the ground floor of the building to the café.

While she was there, she decided that it would be nice to get to know this new coworker - there was always room in her life for being polite even if there wasn’t much of a chance for it with the people she was around. The intermingling scents of coffee and baked goods lightened her foul mood considerably, eyes grazing over the pastries before deciding that she didn’t want any today. 

Purchasing a cup of coffee and of sweetened tea, she headed back up and began to ask around for the coworker. Everyone she asked gave her an odd look: some of them because she was asking about someone new when she had never cared before, and others because they were a hybrid. Nonetheless, she found out their location and the fact that they were a male.

Eventually she did manage to find him, situated at the further end of the floor with his head down and a hunched back. It wasn’t hard to deduce why, feeling the lingering stares burning into her own back as she walked towards him. 

“Hi,” she greeted, feeling slightly bad when he jumped in surprise, “I’m (y/n). It’s nice to meet you,” pulling up a chair, his expression morphed almost comically. 

He was good looking, she was willing to admit wholeheartedly, with his wide, rounded eyes and softly pursed lips that was complimented nicely by his sharp nose and silky looking brown hair. She was sure that if he wasn’t a hybrid, most people would have the opposite of an aversion towards him. 

His swallow was thick, adam’s apple bobbing with the force of it, his slight body shaky and hands trembling - he seemed more like a newborn child than a fully grown adult. “I’m Yuchan,” he introduced finally, shocking her with how his voice had remained stable. “It’s nice to meet you too.”

The smile that spread across her lips was serenity in its truest form, a feeling of peace washed over her as she moved one sheathed cup towards him. 

“Do you prefer tea or coffee, Yuchan?” His name tasted foreign on her tongue, yet it was light and airy. She could find comfort in saying his name, it seemed. “I didn’t know which one, so you can pick whichever.”

“You didn’t have to,” he lamented, the slightest shade of pink tinged his cheeks a subtle rose.

“I wanted to,” Yuchan’s eyes flickered between the two cups before slowly reaching out to take the one labelled coffee, “good choice.”

“Thank you,” His smile was beautiful and she thought that the gentle simper was much more fitting for his countenance than timidness. “You really didn’t have to.”

She could have echoed her earlier words, told him that it didn’t matter, however, all she could think to do was watch him. It was entrancing really how graceful he was, every movement of his fluid and poised. If she had been ignorant, she would have asked why he was wasting his time in a shitty office job when he was much more talented in other things. 

Instead, she nodded and sipped her own tea before speaking again. “How are you settling in?” It must not have been easy, especially with the blatantly rude behaviour of the other staff as well as tensions across the country from the new laws. 

He shrugged, licking his slightly chapped lips. “I’m doing okay. It’s nice here.”

‘If it’s nice here, what’s horrible?’ She thought, almost looking at him funny. “Do you need any help with anything? I can help you with whatever.”

Yuchan shook his head, nails tapping against the cardboard sleeve around the coffee cup. “Junhee-hyung helped set me set up and taught me how to use everything.”

“You know the boss?” His expression quickly turned worried, more than likely thinking he overstepped a boundary, nonetheless she was faster to speak, “that’s good. It’s nice to have connections in places like this. Junhee is a nice man, I like him.”

His visage melted into one of a relief, chewing the inside of his cheek slowly. “Yeah, Hyung’s really nice and helpful. I’m happy I got a job with him as my boss.”

There was another silence that fell, this time a lot more comfortable than the first. Soft sounds of the clock ticking made her glance down at her watch, realising with great irritation that she needed to start doing work or face getting scolded by the supervisor. “I have to head back to my own desk now, but if you ever need anything, feel free to shout for me.”

Getting out of the seat and putting it away, he waved her off and she felt immediately more energised; enough so that anyone she caught who dared look at Yuchan with even a glimmer of disgust was shot down with a scowl and a silent dare to carry on further. 

Maybe having a new, less annoying coworker would finally make her feel excited to come to work. 

The next day, she had decided that walking to work would be a lot less stressful and more cleansing to the soul. (It also meant that she wouldn’t have to pay the parking fee but that was only really a bonus.)Walking also meant that she could now head into her favourite bakery - one she hadn’t managed to go into a for a long while due to simply being busy and overrun with work. 

A gentle jingling from above her head signalled her entrance, the pretty cashier behind the till giving her a smile and a nod of acknowledgment. The familiar scent of honey and cinnamon was comforting, enveloping her in warmth and lightening the burden in her chest. Honestly, if she could afford to do something, she would have bought out everything in the quaint and idyllic shop. 

Browsing through the pastries put into baskets and the cakes hidden behind glass, she decided on buying a favourite that always held up to the test of time; chocolate chip cookies. Theirs were always soft and melted in the middle, with chocolate always lingering on the back of your palette for a long while after being consumed. Maybe she was being dramatic, but she considered it a slice of heaven amongst her life of abject sin. 

Thankfully, as they had just opened, there was an abundance of sweet treats and she took great pleasure in filling up a paper bag with 6 of them. However, just as she was about to pay, she remembered Yuchan and figured she may as well get him some too.

Grabbing another bag and three more cookies, she paid swiftly with an expression of gratitude before returning to her trek to the cursed building she was set to be in - which only took her around another 5 minutes.

It was nice to see that even though Changseok was there, he made no move to speak her like normal. 'Good,’ she mused as he avoided eye contact, 'I guess he got the message.’ It was no loss on her end, in fact, she classified it as a win. 

There was a lot less under breath murmurs today, with people only glancing at Yuchan from the corner of their eyes instead of staring at him like a circus attraction. It wasn’t ideal, though it certainly was an improvement.

“Hi again,” she spoke softly, not wanting to scare him like yesterday.

Looking up from the computer screen, wide eyes met hers, softening into crescent moons. “Hi, how are you?”

“I’m good,” she held up the bag of cookies ad shook them with a pleased grin, “the bakery had my favourite cookies. I thought you would like some. They’re really good,” She put the bag beside his hand.

Thumb grazing over the paper bag, his hues roamed over the delicious looking cookies within and his smile widened considerably. “Thank you so much.”

“It’s alright, you don’t have to thank me,” she sat in the empty chair beside him, spinning on it gently by using her feet. “How is it going today? Everything’s okay?”

“Mhm. I haven’t had any issues, I actually just started on a new project,” he found conversation coming easily despite his nervousness. Who wouldn’t be nervous when a pretty girl with a notorious streak for being blunt was speaking to you?

“Really?” She questioned genuinely interested, “what’s it on?” The company they worked for mainly dealt with collaborating with fashion brands and shipping so anything new was always welcomed. 

“Well uh, Hyung asked me if I could help to design a website for one of our new shareholders,” He fiddled with the paper bag, the soft crinkling providing a background noise, “I’m not too sure about where to start if I’m honest.”

“Oh,” She leant closer to look at what he already had, the landing page currently being edited, “do you have a basic template?" 

"Not really, they only gave us a small brief to work from. They said 'make it look like h&m’, which is helpful,” The soft giggle that left her mouth made him pause, fingers stilling in their fidgeting. 

“Clients like that are the worst,” Nodding in agreement, he saw her mouth open to say something more before she also stilled. 

Her eyes closely followed a figure with red hair as she slowly got up, shoving the seat under the chair. “If Kihyun sees me here he’s going to grill me, I’ll see you later, Yuchan,” before he could even say bye, she was already up and running - leaving him alone with his cookies.

His mouth was left wide open, watching her rush away like a thief about to be caught. A few moments later, the head of red hair was in his vision, the man’s smiling face soon following as he greeted Yuchan.

“Morning,” Kihyun spoke, following his gaze and spotting her sitting down in her chair and then looking at his own out of place one. “She was just here, wasn’t she?”

Yuchan pursed his lips, not wanting to speak up in case she got into trouble; she was one of the only ones that made an effort to check up on him after all. Kihyun seemed to notice this and laughed, patting his thigh reassuringly. 

“It’s okay, she won’t get into trouble. I like her so I wouldn’t say anything, we just like to bicker,” Yuchan’s ears perked. He had noticed how people seemed to shrink away whenever she walked by, almost as if they were avoiding her gaze and he never quite understood why. She was always kind to him.

“Who is she?” He couldn’t help but ask, clamping his mouth shut a second later as he realised he might have overstepped a boundary. “Um I- i mean, I know her name but-”

“She’s one of the best IT techs we have. She likes to keep to herself and she’s got an attitude if you piss her off, and considering the assholes we work with, I don’t blame her. If you’re nice to her or joke with her, she’ll return it. You don’t have to worry about it, Yuchan, she seems fond of you,” He flushed upon hearing the pride, cheeks dusting the faintest shade of pink as he nodded and put up head down. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he could make out Kihyun shaking his head and grinning to himself at his bashfulness. Nonetheless, he didn’t notice it too much, lost in his own thoughts. She was fond of him? He mused, absentmindedly click on the screen. 

A small smile made its home on his face, plush lips stretching into a subtle upwards curve. 

Yuchan found he rather liked the idea of her liking him. 

With every day that passed, he found himself looking forward to her daily check ins. Her smile was pretty and her aura was comforting, like a cup of warm coffee that warmed you from the inside out on cold, frigid days. 

He had been looking around the shops one day, spending his free time poking around instead of being cooped up in his room (and being scolded by his roommate as well as his mother likewise for being antisocial and a neet). The days were turning colder, frostier. With every breath he took he could see his own contribution to the looming clouds above. 

As he walked around, eagle eyed for anything that might have caught his interest (i.e anything shiny) he weaved through the aisles of the old antique shop he had wandered into. The store had the smell of old wood and of slight citrus, a scent that shouldn’t have gone together but it did so beautifully. 

Yuchan hadn’t really been looking to buy anything however, as soon as he has spotted something glinting dutifully under the golden lighting, he had to have a look. Pushing aside the objects in front of it, he grinned broadly to see a beautiful bejewelled keychain. 

It was in the shape of a bird: a peacock if he was recalling correctly. Azure and emerald gems decorated the body of the beard, the eyes of its feathers painstakingly done with brown and yellow. 

Of course he was a sucker for anything cute and sparkly, hence his lack of self restraint as he picked up the keychain, cradling it gently in his hands. It shone with every turn of the head, the black stones used for the bird’s eyes almost lifelike. Though at least he had on justification for this purchase; he was going to give it away. 

Which is where he was currently, sitting in his office chair with a bouncing leg as he bit his lip nervously. She hadn’t come to him all day and he was growing worried that she was getting bored of it - he really hoped that it wasn’t the case. 

Taking another glance over, he swallowed thickly and relaxed as he saw her hunched over her desk, typing furiously on her keyboard before pressing the enter button and glancing at her watch. The time seemed to make her happy as she immediately smiled to herself and shut off her computer, kicking up her bag and throwing it around her shoulders.

For a second he thought she was going to leave there and then, but they were soon proven wrong as she walked towards his direction, a bounce in her step. 

“Hi Yuchan,” she greeted and he returned her jovial simper with a small wave. “What are you doing now?" 

"I’m just finishing up the website. I just need to edit some banners and code and I’ve finished,” Her lips formed a soft 'o’ shape as she sat down beside him, stealing Kihyun’s chair once again. “What are you doing?" 

Her fingers picked at her shirt sleeve as she rocked from side to side on the office chair. "I finished all my work for today. I’m thinking of leaving early, I just need to go to Junhee-ssi and tell him.”

Yuchan’s nervousness immediately skyrocketed and fingers tapped on the table, drumming on it lightly but still loud enough so that it drew her attention. “You okay? You seem anxious, your website is amazing, I promise.”

Finding her reassurance cute, he forced himself to stop messing around with any of his body parts and smiled at her instead. “Thank you. I’m just thinking about something. I appreciate it, I appreciate you,” he added the last part only in his head as he was too much of a coward to actually say them outloud - though judging by her broad and bright smile, she seemed to understand the worldless implications just fine.

A comfortable silence fell over them both, his shoulders slumping as he finally felt comfortable to relax. She slipped her bag off her shoulders and placed it in front of her, rummaging through it before producing a brown paper bag. “I went to the bakery this morning. I saw they had some brownies today and I thought you would like them.”

“You don’t have to always get me something,” She waved off his concerns and he felt his heart flutter in his chest - his cheeks immediately tinging a subtle shade of rose despite himself. “I’m okay with just you." 

"Oh, you’re so adorable, Channie,” She spoke smoothly, like she hadn’t noticed that cute nickname leave her mouth and fluster him beyond belief, “I want to get them for you. Nothing more, nothing less.”

Glancing again at her watch, her lips pursed and she stood up. “I should get going now. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

His mouth opened, hand lifting up to stop her before he let it fall back down to his desk, internally groaning at his cowardice. Instead of getting up and giving the gift to her, he watched her disappear down the stairs, not to be seen until tomorrow.

'Damn it,’ he looked at his bag, deciding to do the next best thing - leave it on her desk. Opening up his bag, he took out the small wrapped box that he had painstakingly covered with sparkly gift wrap. A red glitter box was on top, his reflection staring back at him hundreds of times as he stared hard at it. 

Getting up, he clutched the box tightly in his hands and walked towards her desk, thankful that people had (mostly) given up on staring at him whenever he passed by. As he approached her workspace, Yuchan fell a glare burning into his skin, his saliva thick as he swallowed. He knew quite clearly that it was coming from her seatmate. 

Ignoring it to the best of his abilities, he opened the first drawer to her desk and placed it gently within, giving it a soft pat of reassurance before closing the drawer again. Hopefully she would see it when she came back. 

He straightened up, eyes meeting blank brown hues that seemed to see right into his soul, sending shivers down his spine. Barely managing a smile, he rushed away when he saw Changseok’s scowl deepen. He wasn’t going to stay where he wasn’t wanted. 

Despite this, his cheery mood couldn’t be dampened. He had accomplished his mission even with the few hiccups during the way and that was good enough for him. 

Work tomorrow suddenly didn’t seem so bad. 

His leg was bouncing again today, though this time for a completely different reason than previously. Yuchan’s gaze was constantly on the door when it wasn’t focused on the screen in front of him. Right now, he couldn’t have cared less about working on a banner for another makeup company, his sole focus being on seeing her reaction to his gift. 

After what felt like an eternity, she finally appeared through the door and his heart felt like it was going to beat straight out of his sternum. Chewing nervously on his bottom lip, he was growing incredibly impatient - Yuchan had half a mind to go over there and open the drawer for her. 

However, his waiting finally paid off when she did open the door, the soft furrow of her brows and pursing of her lips making him bite back a hearty grin. The red bow was removed, placed delicately on the desk as she slid her finger under the folds, pulling the wrapping paper away without ripping it. Then finally, she opened the lid and looked in, pulling out the glittering keychain with the biggest smile he had ever seen on her face.

To a couple of minutes she did nothing more than sit there and admire the gift, her finger tips smoothing over the gems and across the beautiful design of it. That was all he could ask for - to see her smile because of him. Though, it did present another problem for him; he could already feel his crush on her growing tenfold. 

Turning back to his screen, he felt content. As long as she was happy, he was too. His pulse continued to race and thrum, his aura giddy and joy clear enough that even Kihyun gave him a sideways glance from his side. 

“Yuchan!” His heart lurched again in his throat and he sat up straight, watching her come over with her hands covering something in her hand. “You won’t believe what someone gave me, it’s so beautiful.”

She pulled up a chair, stealing it from the row in front without a care and sat down, moving her hand to show him the peacock he had grown very familiar to.

“That is pretty,” he commented, trying to keep his cheeks from turning red and exposing him, “it would look nice on your bag.”

“You think so?” She asked, inspecting it, “I think it’s too nice for that. I might put it with my keys instead.” Pulling her keys from her pocket, he watched her clip it to them, the gems continuing in their glittering. He swore they were shining more in her presence. “I wonder who it was. They didn’t leave a name and I highly doubt it was Changseok.”

'Not with the dirty look he gave me,’ Yuchan thought though did not verbalise, instead only smiling and nodding. “They must like you. It suits you a lot.”

“Oh hush,” she placed a light finger against his lips, “I got you coffee, but I left it at my desk. One second,” she rushed away and he covered his face with his hands, running a hand through his hair. 

The steaming drink was placed at his side, the chair squeaking as she sat back down. He could feel Kihyun’s amusement at his obvious predicament. 'Whatever,’ he huffed, 'let hyung laugh,’ and then he looked up at her again. 

Her features were bright and they were beautiful, accentuated even more by the elation of the gift. Yuchan took one more look at her visage and knew he was smitten: or in other words, he had completely fucked himself over.

It became almost a tradition, every Thursday he would leave a gift in her top drawer that she would come to find on Friday and guess about. It was the highlight of his entire week and Yuchan couldn’t have cared less about the looks Changseok gave him every time he came to drop one off. 

She pushed open the door again, already excited for what she was going to get. The only thing she wasn’t fond of was the fact that she didn’t know who they were coming from and she couldn’t pay them back. 

Sitting down in her desk, she started up her computer and opened the drawer, overjoyed to see a small rectangular box covered in the same sparkly wrapping paper the others had come in. 

Pulling it out and closing the drawer with her knee, she was just about to unwrap it when she heard a voice speak beside her - one that she hadn’t heard for a while. 

“You know it’s him, right?” She blinked, not expecting to hear Changseok speaking to her after weeks of God given silence. 

“Pardon?”

“It’s him, that hybrid, he’s the only leaving you all this shit in your drawer,” He spat like he was disgusted to even think of it. Her blood boiled, anger swallowed down as she held the gift in her hands.

“What? Are you talking about Yuchan?" 

"Yes, that disgusting hybrid. He’s been leaving shit for you every thursday,” Her eyes narrowed, beyond giving a fuck about his opinion and of the proper professional conduct. 

“He’s better than you’ll ever be, you piece of shit. What are you doing mad about? The fact that people like Yuchan and not you? Maybe if you weren’t so unlikable, you would have friends too,” About to turn around, she felt her body jerk as he pulled her chair and scowled, obviously offended that she hadn’t given the time of the day. 

“What? You’re defending him? I always knew you were someone who fucked inbred shit like him,” Astounded by the words coming from his mouth, she fell silent for a moment before poison dropped from her words. 

“You’re the worst goddamn kind of person, the type who can’t face the fact that they’re a piece of shit. Yuchan is 1000 times more humane than you’ll ever be,” she stood up, glowering at him with danger setting fires in her eyes. “I told you never to speak to me and you open your mouth to talk shit? I shouldn’t have expected anything else.”

He stood up also, the entire office falling silence as they watched them both. Kihyun got up immediately, knowing it wasn’t going to end well - there had always been tension between them and it all seemed to be bubbling over in one terrible mess.

“Fuck you,” he hissed, “I bet you’ve sucked his dick and that’s why you’re so far up his ass,” she scoffed at his childish response, rolling her eyes.

Changseok seemed to not like that, his hand reaching towards her shoulder to try and coax a reaction from her, however she was faster. 

Within a second, he was clutching his nose, shock clear in his eyes as she clenched her fist, his head snapped back for a moment as the sin of wrath coloured her features. 

Kihyun rushed over, as Changseok moved forward, grabbing his hands as she grit her jaw, teeth grinding against each other with the force she was using to not punch him again.

“Changseok, you pathetic fuck,” she hissed and Kihyun held out his hand, trying to keep the damage at bay. She paid no attention to him, her stare enough to burn through his skin. “It’s so sad watching you show your true colours. Maybe one day someone other than your mother who will love you, though I highly doubt she does either.” She turned on her heel, grabbing her bag and slinging it over her shoulder, her actions reverberating off the walls in the near silent office. “I’m not coming back until he’s out of my fucking face.”

Those were the words that echoed loudly within the four walls, glances exchanged as people looked at each other in disbelief, the door shaking behind her as she slammed it shut.

Changseok shoved away Kihyun, storming towards the bathroom with both a bruised ego and face. 

And it was then that Yuchan finally felt his face burning, his eyes watery as he tried to wipe at his face as inconspicuously as he could. He wasn’t stupid, he had always noticed how Changseok didn’t like him, but he never would have thought he hated him to such an extent over something he had no control over. 

The screen in front of him blurred, the glances and whispers of everyone else making him feel like he was back at his first day, being judged and scrutinised for everything he did. 

Wanting nothing more than to curl up into a ball, he was thankful for Kihyun as he barked at everyone else to carry on working and to stop looking at him. A gentle hand found it’s way on his shoulder, squeezing it comfortingly. 

“I’m sorry, Yuchan. You don’t deserve that.”

He shook his head, blinking away the tears that threatened to fall. “I don’t want her to get into trouble. Especially not over me.”

Kihyun’s eyes were warm, filled with sympathy ss he shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. Changseok started it so he’ll get the most of the punishment. She’ll be okay,” he sniffled, comforted at the thought, “if you want to go home, that’s completely okay. I’ll tell Junhee for you.”

Thanking him quietly, he got up from his seat, swallowing down the bile that threatened to make it way up his throat, his mind weighed down by the thoughts racing through his head. Barely looking anyway apart from straight ahead, he raced out of the building and kept his head down, finally able to wipe his face in peace. At least in the streets of Seoul no one acknowledged each other, too busy caring about themselves to care about him.

The last thing he wanted to do was be the reason that she was fired, though he couldn’t say that the fact she defended him hadn’t left his chest feeling warm and fuzzy. It was just that his feeling of guilt was overpowering it.

He couldn’t imagine coming into work and not seeing her pretty face coming up to him with happiness and a genuine excitement for meeting him. Yuchan didn’t want to imagine it either; she hadn’t even opened the gift he had gotten her this time.

Then, as he was walking, he heard his name being called. First it was very failure, almost a figment of his imagination, before he heard it louder and clearer. 

“Yuchan, wait!” He looked over his shoulder to see one of his seniors running towards him; Yoongi, one of the quieter but well respected higher ups. Yuchan hadn’t really interacted with him before save for the occasional smiles as Kihyun bothered him. 

He paused in his walking, desperately hoping he didn’t look like shit. 

Yoongi rushed up to him, looking slightly out of breath but still coherent enough to talk. “I’m sorry for what happened Yuchan. You shouldn’t have had to hear all that shit coming out of his mouth ”

“It’s o-”

“It’s not,” Yoongi shook his head, “He’s going to get fired and even though (y/n) will get a strike for punching him, she won’t be let go. We should have sacked him a long time ago,” his heart felt a million times lighter hearing that, a smile breaking out on his face and stretching across his cheeks.

Yoongi patted his shoulder. “Keep up the good work. We understand if you want to take a couple of days off. Stay healthy, Yuchan.” Yoongi. walked away again with a dip of his head. 

Even though the feeling of guilt still lingered, he was so much more jovial, now walking home with a skip in his step rather than pulling his feet along behind him. 

Her empty desk was slowly getting on his nerves. He knew in his heart of hearts that she would be coming back soon and that it just took a while for them to properly clean up all of Changseok’s belongings; he was still impatient. 

Yoongi had said she would be back and he had to believe that it would be soon. 

His headphones were over his ears, a half eaten sandwich in its wrapper on his desk. He didn’t have much of an appetite while at work anymore - subconsciously associating it with her and her presence. It didn’t feel right to eat if she wasn’t at least there or had said hi that day. 

Music played loudly in his ears, focused on completing the banner so he could go home and bury himself under the covers for a weekend. 

As he changed the colour of it, his attention was diverted by a box being set down between his arms. Wrapped in silvery paper and a glittering gold ribbon, it was incredibly reminiscent of his own packaging methods. 

Pulling the headphones around his neck, his breath hitched in his throat as the smile he had come to adore beamed down at him and bathed him in sunshine. He swallowed, words suddenly glued to the tip of his tongue. 

“Hi,” She spoke first, sitting down beside him, “how are you, Chan? Everything’s going good?”

He nodded, wishing he could have said something instead of becoming silent. 

“That’s good,” she mused, “He’s been fired so I’m back. I got a warning though, but that’s whatever." 

"I’m glad you’re back,” he finally vocalised and she grinned, “I missed you.”

A silence followed and he was worried he had overstepped a boundary, rushing to try and rectify it - only to be stopped by her soft giggle.

“You did? That’s cute,” she replied, her finger tapping on the box lightly, “thank you for the gifts by the way. They’re always so beautiful and I really enjoyed getting them.” Even though she only knew it was him because of Changseok opening his mouth, he couldn’t help but still be delighted and slightly embarrassed that he had been found out. 

Slowly, he reached out to slide his finger under the seals, copying her care and delicacy, before pulling the ribbon away and opening it up. Inside was a small rose charm, the rose tinted metal glittering brightly and with the sole purpose of catching his attention.  

“I know it’s not as pretty as everything you got me, but I hope you’ll like it more when you find out the second thing I got you,” he looked back inside the box, visibly confused when there was nothing there. “It’s a date. I was wondering if you would like to go on a date with me, Channie.”

He froze up immediately, eyes wide and turning into the size of golf balls as his mind screeched to a hold. Did she seriously just ask him out? The girl he had a crush on for months, asked him out?

If he wasn’t so gobsmacked he would have been mortified at his lack of response, her face dropping almost unnoticeably at his lack of reply. God, could he be anymore of a moron?

“Yes!” The exclamation came way too loudly and he cleared his throat, unable to meet her gaze ad he fiddled with the charm. “Um, yeah. I would really like that.”

“That’s great,” her hand was warm, resting on top of his as she squeezed his gently, “could I have your number then?" 

Fumbling with his phone, it almost slipped through his fingers as he handed it to her and he cursed himself for being such a mess. Thankfully, she seemed to find it endearing, sparkles lighting up her eyes as she saved his number in her phone and sent him a text. "Thank you, baby,” his cheeks flushed an even more vibrant crimson and he was sure he matched Kihyun’s hair by now. 

Even so, the last nail in his coffin had to be the gentle way her hands cupped his face, leaning closer so that her gentle and comforting scent invaded his senses. Her lips were soft against his cheek, the skin tingling even as she moved away - fingers brushing across the side of his face. 

He could only stare owlishly at her retreating figure, all thoughts disappearing. Yuchan could not believe that any of that had happened.

Then, like a bucket of cold water being thrown onto him, he heard Kihyun laughing from beside him, his foot landing on the side of his chair to spin him around. “I can’t believe you got her to ask you out. I never thought I’d see the day, you really are special if she likes you, Yuchan." 

Attempting to cover his face with his hands, Kihyun only continued to find amusement in his shyness, poking his side lightly before turning back to his work - still laughing. Nonetheless, Yuchan couldn’t have cared less. He had a date to worry about now.

The flavour of coffee and sugar coated his tongue, sweetness spreading across his mouth as he took another sip of his drink in an to attempt to pass the time which seemed to be passing by both incredibly quick and irritatingly slow. 

15 minutes had gone by and he was beginning to think that she had stood him up. That thought alone hurt to have and he could feel his stomach twist the more he lingered on that idea. That was the last thing he wanted to believe - to even consider. She wasn’t the type of person to do that, was she?

Consumed by his own thoughts, he didn’t hear the bell to the shop open and a hurried figure walk in. Only when the chair beside him scraped against the floor and and apologetic face was in front of his visage, did he realise who he was staring at. 

"I’m so sorry, Channie. I got caught up with my roommate, she couldn’t figure out what to get her girlfriend and dragged me into helping her,``she huffed and he found the puff of her cheeks to be adorable, his eyes turning into gentle crescent moons ad he forgot about all the negative emotions had felt just moments ago. 

"It’s okay, it was only 15 minutes, I don’t mind,” He really didn’t mind, not even she was looking so pretty just for him, her countenance as beautiful as ever - if not slightly more so today. “You look really nice today.”

Her eyes roamed over his body, looking over the maroon jacket that he had coupled with a black turtleneck and then back up to his face. “You look extra cute today as well.”

Yuchan swore he was going to become permanently pink faced around her.

Now that she was here, time seemed to fly by, speeding past until she placed her hand over his and suggested they leave the café in favour of walking around the nearby botanical garden. And how could he disagree to walking with pretty flowers and a stunning woman beside him?

Her arm looped around his, content written across her features as she spoke about whatever. Then, she paused for a moment and looked up at him. “Yuchan, can I ask you a personal question?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Are you a crow hybrid?” He was a little bewildered that she had figured it out; he was sure he had never given any indication towards his species. 

“Mhm. How did you find that out?”

“Well, for one you’re really intelligent and can pick out problems and solutions really quickly. And two, I noticed you really seem to like shiny things and collect them.- all the jewellery you wear is really bright, I think it’s cute,” His smile was broad, hiding his face in her shoulder as she ruffled his hair, smooth in the strands gently between her fingers. 

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course.”

“Why did you defend me and risk your job like that?” She stilled for a moment, but she carried on brushing her fingers through the silly black strands. 

“Because I don’t like him and his views. He’s a piece of shit that thinks he can say things like that and get away with it. I would have done it for anyone, but it annoyed me especially because he was saying it about you. You’re so sweet, Yuchannie and he refuses to acknowledge that,” Her voice was soothing and he found himself relaxing against her touch, “and besides. I got to punch him and keep my job, I think it’s a win win situation.”

He laughed, the sound full of mirth and of gratitude. “That’s nice to know,” He remarked teasingly and she pulled him down onto the bench with a finger against her smiling lips. 

Her fingers slipped into her coat pocket, rummaging around for something before she pulled out a small velvet box. The small thing was opened up and within there was a dainty half heart necklace, encrusted with red gems and a single pink one in the middle. 

Without giving him a chance to speak, she unclasped the necklace and gestured for him to lean down, placing it gently around his neck and patting the spot above his heart. She reached under her shirt and pulled out her own identical necklace, the other half of the heart.

“There,” she spoke as she tucked it back under her shirt, “now I can add you to my collection of pretty things." 

Oh god, he thought as he pressed a kiss to her cheek in an attempt to do something with himself, she’s going to make me fall so hard. 

[gingerbreton]

Professional (Adam x f!detective)

Summary:

As they continue to work on the Murphy case, Adam takes his turn 'babysitting' the detective.

Since she uncovered the truth, Adam has seen a different side to Neve Langford.  And it is becoming increasingly difficult to maintain professional boundaries.

Notes:

This is set during the 'babysitting' week after the detective leaves the facility, before Murphy's attack.

Rating:  T    Word Count:  1961

[Read on AO3]

The shrill ring of the bell stops the detective in her tracks, and Adam has to catch himself from crashing into the back of her as a pair of fellow early-risers dart from the bakery door and out into the rain-wrapped Square.  He snaps out a hand to stop the door from slamming back into Neve’s face.

A wave of warm air washes over Adam as the door swings open again, carrying on it scents of baking bread and the cloying sweetness of fresh pastries.  He wrinkles his nose at the powerful odours, missing the clean chill of the breeze blowing in from the forests which surround the town.

“I’ll be right with you,” a bright voice calls out from the back at the sound of the bell.

With a brief shiver as the stark temperature change hits her, Neve hurries into the warmth of the bakery.  The swift click of her heels echoing in the quiet space as she makes a beeline for the display of particularly sickly looking breakfast goods.

Adam hangs back by the door, eyes adjusting to the light after the darkness of the early morning.  He passed the bakery on patrol the other night, it’s window display illuminated in keeping with the Square’s aesthetic, though had not set foot inside before.  Nor had he intended to until the detective insisted on breakfast.

This would have been so much simpler if the Agency had insisted the detective remain at the facility.  But here we are...

A large table dominates the seating area.  Adam eyes the way it limits passage through the space to two routes—less than ideal if they have to exit swiftly past an adversary, but he can work with it.  He’s just pondering the strategic pros and cons of the large curved counter when his attention is drawn to the detective.

Neve removes her scarf to shake loose the fine drizzle which clings to the fabric.  She pushes her hair out of the way as she does so.  It’s this motion which catches Adam’s attention, but not what holds it.

Faint bruises paint the detective’s freckled skin, faded to the point of being almost unnoticeable.  At least to human eyes.  To him it’s blatant evidence of where bloated fingers constricted around the detective’s throat.  An injury, Adam is guilty to admit, he did not notice until after the fact—not until Neve had collapsed in his arms.

The detective’s hair falls back into place, hiding the marks that even she seems to have forgotten behind a waterfall of soft strawberry blonde.  

But a thought lingers in Adam’s mind;  humans are fragile.

This isn’t a startling revelation.  He’s known it for over 900 years.  In the past it was little more than an inconvenience—something to take into consideration when dealing with them.

When did it become a concern?

Adam shakes his head to dispel the thought.

“Good morning, Haley.”  

Neve greets the proprietor, a warm smile settling on her lips.  It’s the kind of warmth that draws people to her—that draws him to her.

Before this gentler warmth grew between them, the detective’s temper used to flare like a wildfire—his too, if he’s honest—threatening to set them both alight.  Now the fire that seems to burn at the heart of Neve has settled into a welcoming glow.  It makes her eyes sparkle, and Adam struggles to look away—wishing he could hide behind his aviators without drawing comment.

Whether she knows it or not, the detective is making his task difficult—crouching to peruse the selection of pastries, the edge of her lip, not fully bitten, just caught by a drag of her teeth as she scans her choices.  Decision made, her lip slips free when a smile wins out and she points to a particularly plump croissant.  

Adam snaps his gaze away.

The task of drowning out their conversation is made easier when it descends into inane small talk.  He diverts his attention back to where it should be—watching for threats.  It is his turn to babysit the detective after all.

The large windows of the shopfront are fogged with thick condensation from the chill of the late winter air hitting the warmth of the bakery’s interior.  He frowns at the lack of visibility out into the Square beyond but resists the urge to wipe away a section of the misted glass.

“Adam-”  Neve’s voice stumbles to a stop, correcting herself when Adam’s gaze flashes to her.  “Commanding Agent, did you want anything?”  She pauses, something tentative—hopeful even—in the look she gives him.  “My treat.”

“That isn’t necessary, detective,” Adam replies stiffly.  

His throat dries at the sudden memory of Neve's name escaping his lips in the lab a few days before.  ‘I prefer you call me that.’  More so at the memory of the way she looked at him in response.

“But thank you.”  He adds with a cough as her gaze flicks away, wondering if he imagined her shoulders sag.

‘I think using your title would serve us better since we are working together.’

Adam has been doing this job, or some version of it, for centuries.  Times change, the Agency adapts, people come and go, and never once has he struggled with professionalism.  With boundaries.  

But now his words are getting away from him, he has to check every action to maintain these boundaries, to remain professional.  Because that’s all this is.  Professional.

As soon as Murphy is caught the team will move on.  He will move on.

‘But I’m glad to know we are on good enough terms for first names—Neve’.

The first had been a slip, but the second, in spite of himself he’d allowed her name to linger on his tongue.  Savouring it one last time before he drew a line.  Rebuilt that boundary.  Adam has always considered himself a strong-willed man, and that should’ve been an end to it.

But then Neve smiled.

He’d seen her smile before—obviously—but not like this.  Not for him.  Impossibly soft and sweet and shy.  A blush colouring her cheeks, heart fluttering as she held his gaze.

The sight etched itself onto his memory.

A wave of panic hits Adam as he sees the detective move to sit at the large table, only then realising how long he’d been lost in thought.

“We should be going,” he blurts.  The thought of sitting alone together—Adam scolds himself for his flustered reaction.  “To meet the other at the station.”

“Oh—of course.”  

A confused frown tugging at her brow, Neve turns to Haley who is already transferring her coffee into a takeaway cup.

It’s not until the detective is sweetening the drink that Adam takes in the sheer size of the thing.  Despite the blanket of frothy milk, there’s an almost overpowering scent of espresso.  Neve pours in one sweetener, and then a second.

Adam wrinkles his nose, a judgemental frown creasing his brow.

“You’ll not taste that with your breakfast.”

Neve meets his eye, a familiar stubbornness catching in her eyes.  She picks up a third sweetener, tears the packet open with her teeth and pours it into her drink, all without breaking his gaze.

Adam rolls his eyes, drags the door open and heads out into the cold, but not before catching the smirk pulling at the corners of her mouth.

----

Dawn light is beginning to daub hues of pinks and orange across the undersides of the thinning rainclouds.  The downpour has slowed to a light drizzle which hangs like mist in the air, droplets quickly clinging to the wool of his coat.  

The clocktower declares it’s a little after seven thirty as Adam strides across the pavement, pausing only when he realises that the detective isn’t at his side.  This isn’t unusual in itself—between those ridiculous heels and fitted skirts, it takes Neve two paces to keep up with one of his—but this time there’s no click of heels following him.  

Though there is the increased patter of her heartbeat.

“Detective?”

He turns in time to see her linger in the doorway, deep-green gaze furtively scanning the Square before she steps out.  Adam can feel the nerves radiate from her as she hurries to his side.  

It wasn’t long ago that he lamented the detective’s habit of rushing off into trouble, but now, as she stands glued to his side on the cobbled streets of a town she’s called home her whole life, he finds himself half-grieving the freedom that came with her naivety.

“You are uncertain.”

The statement catches Neve off guard, her heels skittering on the slick cobblestones as she snaps to look at him.  Adam instinctually reaches out to steady her, but swiftly pulls his fingers back before they brush the small of her back—burying the offending hand deep in his coat pockets.

“The fact that Murphy is a vampire still concerns you?”  Adam hushes his tone, despite the empty street.

A slight frown knots Neve’s brow, her lips moving around a thought.

“It’s not that,” she says after a moment, pointedly avoiding Adam’s gaze.  Pulling her collar up high to guard against the rain, she hurries across the street.  He follows, matching her pace with ease.  “What Murphy is on a biological level is irrelevant.”

Adam raises a brow, though he shouldn’t be surprised; she’d looked at the evidence, considered the blood results, and accepted the true nature of Unit Bravo with little more than a dry comment about how they should get a DNA database entry sorted, unless they wished to be named after the station’s pathologist.

“It’s just...the balance of everything shifted overnight,” Neve continues.  “I went from being a professional trying to catch a murderer, to being his next victim.”

Her voice catches, but she coughs it off before Adam has a chance to say anything.  

“You know, they tried to recruit students to take part in medical trials while I was in college.  For cash.”  She takes a long sip of her coffee before trying to smile, as though there’s a joke in there somewhere but she can’t decide if it’s funny.  “I wasn’t interested then either.  And I doubt Murphy offers better pay than the drug companies.”

The laugh that accompanies her slipping smile is breathy and lost in thought.  Without seeming to notice, she fidgets at the cut across her palm.

“I don’t want to be a victim.”

She seems to startle herself with the admission—a rare confession of vulnerability from a woman who insists she can take care of herself.  Adam’s brows furrow deeply under a weight of concern.

“It will be alright.”

You will be alright.

“I know it will.”

The vulnerability is gone.  Neve sets her lips into a tight line.  Stubborn.  Determined.  If it wasn’t for the nervous fluttering of her heart, he might even believe her.

Adam’s lips move for a moment as he tries to conjure an adequate sentiment to put Neve’s mind at rest, but his words fall short.  Instead he sets about watching their surroundings with redoubled diligence—as though the action may at least allay some of her fears.

“Adam…”  Neve almost reaches out to him, he freezes, watching the motion, but she thinks better of it.  “I know it will.”

Her expression softens as her eyes finally meet his—stubbornness waning to give way to something else.  Adam could be mistaken, but buried deep, warming the dark green of her eyes, there’s trust.

Their gazes break apart under the weight of the heavy silence that follows, and they make for the detective’s car without another word.

Adam will not let anything happen to her.

And he tells himself there’s nothing more to it than that.

[aknight]

Vyzerre The Hive Knight

Thanks to a CERTAIN ASSHOLE IN MY DISCORD who got me addicted to Corruption of Champions and CoC2, I’ve been playing it nonstop for like two weeks at this point. So I decided to make a character sheet for my character as if he was an NPC that the Champion could recruit. I can sum up my experience with this one text.

Vyzerre

This Hornetfolk Hive Knight can be found in the Frostwood, occupying one of the tiles on the right side of the split in the path just after Evergreens Cottage. Once a harem breeder of a Vesparan Hive, upon first glance he appears to have suffered the same Corruption as his brothers and sisters but not to the same extent as those encountered in the Old Forest.

Appearance 

A nearly nude Vyzerre stands in front of you, he looks to be nearly six feet, impressive for a male vesparran. With a warm smile he takes his crossed arms away from his body, taking a more relaxed stance making it much easier to take in his toned muscles. His warm smile turns into more of a knowing grin the longer your eyes linger on him, long, cape-like wings protrude from his back seemingly ready to snap out from their stowed position and take flight. 

One of his hands rubs at his chin as a shy blush comes across his face as your eyes travel further down his slender and athletic form. Copper Brown flesh only occasionally interrupted by thick black bands turns to thick, smooth and shiny black chitin at his otherwise humanoid elbows and knees. No doubt at one point it was perfectly smooth but the nicks and breaks in its surface not fully healed shows that the natural armor only proves to further the aura and image of the domineering knight that you know Vyzerre as… at least when you're not gazing at him causing him to fidget.

Normally he’d dress himself in blackened bronze armor, and carry a blackened short lance and an oblong, convex shield that layers itself in a similar pattern to the chitin on his arms. Though currently his lack of armor and arms is making it difficult to look away, for the most part he's lacking any actual clothing aside from a slightly dirtied white breechcloth that runs down to just above his knees keeping him modest for the most part though leaving little to the imagination. 

Dark brown fur wreaths his neck like the trimmings of a coat in stark contrast to the pale yellow hair is kept behind his long elfin ears at the sides of his head, its flowing waves only interrupted by his rather animated and candid antennae feelers. “I know I carry all the grace of my mother-” Ornate solid black orbs look over you with an eager gaze, his painted black lips curve up at the edges, “-but if you're going to stare so intently, I expect something at the end of all this.” His fuzzy insect abdomen sways impatiently, despite his efforts he is still a horny hornet at heart. 

Information

Species: Vesparan

Gender: Male

Occupation: Warrior, Breeder

Family: Unknown

Location: Frostwood, Frost Hound

Stats

Health: 250

Resolve: 120

Description

Interactions

First Encounter

When first encountering the hornet, he takes up an aggressive stance, seeming more frustrated by your encounter than anything. Suspecting you to be a threat, another Katsune in disguise or would-be corrupted invader from elsewhere in the forest. You can Attack him, Speak with him, or Leave the first encounter without having done anything.

If you Attack, then you must follow through and fight the Hornet.

If you Speak, you will ask the Vesparan about himself and he will share his name and speak on how he is aspiring to be a Hive Knight. Afterwards you may subsequently introduce yourself, ask about his Hive, or Flirt with him. Once you have Flirted with him, he will offer to have sex with you.

If you Leave, Vyzerre wishes you well and allows you to go without a fight.

Subsequent Encounter

Subsequent encounters with Vyzerre will depend on how you acted when you first encountered him. 

If you chose Fight and lost to him, or if you chose Leave, then he becomes a random encounter that can be met by exploring the Frostwoods area. In this case, on subsequent encounters, he will give you the options to Fight! or Try to Talk! - the latter option is the same as if you chose the Speak option on your first encounter.

Once you have spoken to him and learned his name, he becomes a permanent resident of the square where you first met him, and can be interacted with. In this case, you have the option to Talk, Challenge, Attack or Leave.

Talk

The Talk interaction allows the player to talk about  Him, His Body, His Hive and Flirt options, as per the first encounter.

Once the player has had sex with Vyzerre at least once, the Talk menu also allows the player to ask him to cuddle, which restores 10 hit points and presents the player with the option to either have Sex or Leave afterwards.

When asking about himself, Vyzerre can give a series of banterous topics referencing the Kitsune in the forest, the Drider Queen and his encounters with Evergreen and her daughters.

When asking about his body, Vyzerre arches an eyebrow confused before the Champion asks if they’ve been in contact with the Hive to the south. He says that he had a run in with a few drones who had tried to assault him when he first arrived in the marches but since then he's avoided them not wanting to quote ‘go through that again’. When pressed by the champion he says that the pheromones were almost enough to kick in his breeder instincts. Returning to the Champion's original question he says he was originally smaller, but made a deal with one of Evergreens daughters to change his build, lamenting how he wished they’d him a bit taller and sturdier built like his sisters, quietly mentioning he wished he had a stinger too.

When asking about his Hive he seems less keen on talking about it compared to his other dialogue options, in the end he relents saying that he is far a Hive far to the south. Originally he was a breeder and a member of his queen's harem and later took it upon himself to become a Hive Knight. 

When flirting, Vyzerre chuckles to himself before his cheeks change a color of red before averting his eyes saying it's been some time since someone has spoken to him in that way and that his race often dies when alone. Scratching at his neck he chuckles again talking about how he had gotten so used to being alone that he’d forgotten how it felt to long for another's company.

Sex

Vyzerren has five sex scenes (Need to think of more innuendos)

Get a Treat - “So maybe it’s not honey, but it's still pretty sweet.”

The Challenge interaction allows the player to fight a practice spar with Vyzerre, suffering no penalties if they lose. During this battle, Vyzerre fights in a defensive stance, and he may take flight, making him harder to hit in melee. Oftentimes letting the player use their abilities before counterattacking. 

Once the player has challenged Vyzerre three times whether or not they have beaten him, Vyzerre comments on how he appreciates the company and the practice the Talk menu will reflect his change in tone and allow the player to ask him about being a male Hive Knight, where he will disclose that he is the only Hive Knight left of his Hive and that he must get better.

Attack

The Attack interaction causes the player to attack Vyzerre unprovoked, causing them to gain 3 Corruption. If they lose, Vyzerre chastises them and steals some of their money. However, he remains in the square for further interactions.

 Queen and Consort

Once the Champion has challenged Vyzerre three times and has listened to the subsequently unlocked Hive Knight? Dialogue option, the next time the Champion encounters male Hive Knight he will be deep in thought as he glances over the scars that chinks in the chitin that covers his hands. His face shifts into a snarl as he hurls his shortlance across the small clearing he’s taken to occupy before freezing up his expression shifting to one of embarrassment as he notices the Champion before slinking over to his shortlance to reclaim it. The Champion can either choose to Leave or to Ask. 

If the Champion chooses to Leave, Vyzerre will shift awkwardly in their presence for a moment as if he has wronged the player in some fashion before bowing apologizing and flying off. (This doesn’t lock or disable the quest, the Ask option will appear the next time they speak with him) If the Champion chooses Ask Vyzerres posture and expression will relax, fluttering over to the Champion thanking them inviting them to sit and stay with him for a while. Where the Champion will be given the option of choosing Yes or No. Refusing the Knights offer, he will smile bitterly clearly disappointed by the players decision, responding with a simple ‘Oh’ before watching them as they leave.

Agreeing causes him to blink at you before turning and collecting a few pieces of fruit jerky and offering it to the party before he settles down across from the Champion and their party. As everyone partakes, he mentions that it was one of his Sisters who got him addicted to fruit jerky, and that he learned how to use the lance and shield thanks to her too. The Champion remarks how they are sure she would be proud of him. Grimacing, he spits a bit of the fruit jerky out onto the ground, the taste seemingly fouling in his mouth; before going on to mention that she's dead and so is his entire Hive. 

It's clear by how his demeanor changes that it makes him uncomfortable to think about it, but he waves off the Champion's attempt at interjecting. He goes on about how he was the Queen’s consort, a member of her harem, and while he was not sent with his sisters on raids and nowhere near as strong as them, he blames himself for being absent the day his Hive was attacked. He opens his mouth a few times but no words come out. Settling on his phrasing, he says he did his best to avenge them, but came up short before coming north hoping to find some kind of conquest that would bring his Hive honor. Pausing, he relents in his domination of the story and looks to the player for their opinion.

The Champion can then make the decision to choose to ask, The Marches, Vengeance, Honor, or choose the option Next to advance.

Choosing The Marches, Vyzerre moves into his small camp retrieving a small book from his bag. Flipping through its contents, he goes over some of the stories he's transcribed onto its pages. Each is a story of his Hives past, though the one he settles more thoroughly upon is one of the Godswar where he talks of how his Hive could not resist the call of battle in the North and mustered against the Wraiths… he mentions in passing that mother always hated that story before gesturing in the direction of the local Vesparan Hive saying that he wondered if they might be distant cousins from a Hive Knight who stayed after the campaign concluded.

Choosing Vengeance, Vyzerre bites at his cheek before looking at you, much like how a child might a parent when they’ve done something wrong. He speaks on how he couldn’t let his family's deaths go unanswered and any death in the name of the Hive is worthy of honor, but he argues that what happened wasn’t just them dying, it was them being murdered. He reveals that his hive was smoked out and that its inhabitants died with very few being able to raise a hand in its defense, that they burned his Hive. He furrows his brow, saying he did his best to make sure that their killers paid.

Choosing Honor, Vyzerre nods affirmatively at the word, repeating it before smiling. He tells the Champion that he swore to his Queen that he would bring enough Honor to their Hive so that even upon his death, the Hive would pass on into legend. Bowing his head he sighs, saying that he wishes he hadn’t made such an impossible promise.

Choosing Next causes Vyzerre’s antennae to vibrate as he jumps to his feet and searches the edges of the small clearing before a party of Imps appear, attacking the party. Once they are defeated the players finds that Vyzerre’s small home has been ruined in the battle and its contents, all but destroyed. Sighing, he looks from the Imps to the Champion openly wondering why there are so many of the Imps running around and where they are coming from.

The Champion recounts their fight with the Alurain, Kasyrra, and the Hornetfolk to the south, to get where they are now. The Knight's black eyes twinkle like stars, muttering to himself about how amazing the Champion is, telling them that they would make their own Queen proud. Though once the magic of the moment passes, he furrows his brows and glances back to his hand before tightening his hand into a fist. There is a tinge of regality in his voice like he was standing in court. He asks if he could come with the Champion on their adventures. 

Should the Champion refuse to bring Vyzerre into their company, he will frown his stance, deflating a moment before he straightens back up and mention that he will salvage what is left of his camp and make his own way back to Hawkthorne and see if he might hunt Kasyrra for what she's done to the local Hive.

(Updates and continuations planned)

Companionship

If the Champion decides to bring in Vyzerre to their company during the introduction of Queen and Consort, they will have the option to immediately add him to their party, or send him to Hawkethorne to be picked up later at the tavern.

At The Frost Hound, Vyzerre can be found under the Guests option where, if the Champion did not bring him into their company, they will have a Recruit option to bring him along. Other than the Recruit option, the Champion may ask Vyzerre about his quest, to which he laments that it is going rather poorly for those who have yet to recruit Berwyn.

Approaching Vyzerre once he has been recruited will bring up the following options:

Appearance

Talk

Him

His Hive

Flirt

Sex

Azyrran?

Royal Treatment

Give Item

 If Vyzerre has been recruited if you haven’t sparred with him yet that day, there is a 20% chance that the Champion will receive a Vyzerre? option the next time they go to look for him at The Frost Hound. They will find Vyzerre missing from his usual spot and go to look for him. The Champion will find him outside the southern gate humming to himself as he taps the tips of his carapaced fingers on the surface of his shield, which he has resting across his lap. When asked what he’s doing, he will reply that he’s looking back towards home before correcting himself, saying where his home once was. Laying his hands flat on the shield's surface and explaining that every Vesparan knows where their Hive is no matter how far away they are, but his case is different, feeling more like a ghost clawing at him than a Mother calling their children home. His body trembles a moment before clearing his throat as he explains how he hates that something he used to take such comfort in now only serves to remind him of his past. His hands tighten into balls as he crushes his eyes closed, continuing on about how there were hundred of others who deserved to be the one to survive the fire. Stopping, he realizes how he is speaking in the Champion's presence and apologizes. Silence falls in the conversation for a few moments before the Champion redirects, and asks him what it was he was humming, prompting the Hornetfolk to smile with a downcast gaze. He explains it is a song from home, but doesn't know who started singing it. It's one of his favorites, going on about how his sisters would sing it when they came home from raids. The Champion will have the options of Sing or Leave.

Choosing Leave, the Champion excuses himself from Vyzerre telling him they will be waiting back at the tavern.

Choosing Sing, the Champion asks Vyzerre to sing the song for them to which he smiles and agrees drumming up a rhythm on his shield with his finger tips before he starts to sing. 

(It's a work in progress)

‘We were born early spring to beat of royal wings and the loving grace of Lumia fell all over us. 

O’ and every single night when the Knights would end their flight, they’d invite the neighbors out with this fine chorus. 

No sense to run and hide, if you've already caught our eye. Let's tell the world how you won your medals.

Let's tell them how the beat of wings made you want to run and scream, from our Queen and all her lovely dames of Vespa. While we went one to one and never did we run when we sent the Wraiths back into their burrows.’

His voice is warm, like the honey as it often was, but this time it held more pride like a father boasting of their child. The Champion settles next to him as they enjoy his voice and the picture he paints, until his voice wobbles for a moment, but the Champion excuses it, thinking  that it was their imagination, until it happens a second time, his voice wavering on another line. Opening their eyes they find Vyzerre with tears streaming down his face as he fights to keep them from his voice while he sings. As his voice is silent, he simply stares off over the path he had originally taken to come north, much like the Champion not so long ago his lips quivering as tears continue to fall.

The Champion rests a hand on his shoulder and smiles, snapping Vyzerre out of his would-be trance before he apologizes. The Champion tells him there is nothing to apologize for before pulling him to his feet, offering to buy him a drink back at the Frost Hound. Walking with Vyzerre back to the tavern the Champion is given the options of Drink, Sing Together, or Leave.

Choosing Drink,  The Champion chooses to sit and drink with Vyzerre, who after a few drinks turns smiles at the Champion hugging them suddenly telling them that they are the first person outside his Hive who he’s sung that song to and that he appreciates them listening. 

Choosing Sing Together, The Champion picks a pair of drinks from the bar before giving one to Vyzerre, drinking together for a moment before standing and telling him that they are glad this particular Knight found they’re way home starting the same beat they had heard earlier. The Hive Knight takes the hint, raising his pint to his lips and starts to sing with the player following suit.

Choosing Leave, The Champion drops Vyzerre off at the counter letting Garth take care of him before taking leave of the Hornet. 

[satan-chillin]

Hereafter (1/7)

Wei Wuxian is sent off of Cloud Recesses, bade by his fathers to "have fun and make friends" which, now that he thinks about it, sounds like a gross oversimplification of what the next six months away from home will entail.

If he happens to form unlikely connections, start a matchmaking, and gets unwittingly involved in the presently strained political state of the cultivation world, those are just par for the course.

Chasing after one of the famed Twin Jades of Lan, however, is an added bonus.

(Or, WWX was sent to Gusu by his fathers Wen Kexing & Zhou Zishu)

Part 2 of Spirited Away Series. Part 1 here.

Also available in Ao3

❆❆❆

Emperor's Smile was a good wine as advertised, and Wei Wuxian lamented that he was pouring it to accompany his sullen mood.

The departure of his shixiong brought an inexplicable feeling of gloom. He had never been this far from home—oh, there had been trips to Mirror Lake Sect and Longyuan Valley once or twice a year but always with the company of either the senior or junior disciples or sometimes his fathers—and never alone like this, in almost what seemed to be the other end of the map and a place where it might as well be a different world.

He thought of the half-finished letters he would be sending back with his shixiong. The long-overdue one was for his shijie Xiaolian who in their last correspondence told him that she was expecting; it was only natural that he would suggest she took a character from his birth name. The shortest missive was for the juniors left at the Four Seasons Manor who had him promise that he would tell them of the cultivation world; their minder, Shu Feng, would read his letter to the juniors—who were yet to learn how to read on their own—as if their usual bedtime stories.

The longest letters were for a-die and baba, separated only because he doubted he could fit in his sentiments for them in a single letter. He kept their reminders at heart despite his initial complaints of their nagging; from his baba, most of all, who had hardly let him out of his sight and had prepared his favorite meals during supper in the last few weeks leading to his departure. Even his a-die had doubled his training regimen a month prior, a lot stricter and meticulous in gauging his progress, though Wei Wuxian had suspected that it had been his way to ascertain his readiness—and to spend more time with him.

Simply put, he missed his home and family already, right off his first evening in the Cloud Recesses. And to think that he had long been waiting for this moment to come, brimming with excitement for years at the prospect of delving into a world that seemingly came from a myth. He had been a child filled with wonder when told that he was originally a part of it too, that once he was of the right age he would return where his birth parents had lived.

And so far, he was... reserving his judgment in that front, so to speak.

Wei Wuxian let out a sigh. He was aware of being uncharacteristically despondent under such a pleasant evening of bright moon and a delectable wine at hand. The right company wouldn’t be so bad, and if his shixiong was amenable they might as well spend the night before his leave.

“Trespassing is forbidden in Cloud Recesses.”

It was the colors Wei Wuxian first registered: the shade of white that was almost reminiscent of his baba’s snowy hair; the soft hue of blue that was barely distinct in the dark but not so much under the moonlight, the color of his favorite robes as a boy because it was the first that he had worn at home; the long dark hair billowing in the breeze in sharp contrast with the white ribbon; the golden eyes that hinted a brewing righteous anger the longer Wei Wuxian stared without any response.

He blinked slowly, almost afraid of the night carrying away the illusion, and threw caution in the wind as the words tumbled out of his mouth.

“Not even to catch a glimpse of you?”

Not a mirage, he decided, not with the deepening frown he got in response. Wei Wuxian smiled invitingly, raising a toast to the direction of the Lan Disciple.

“Alcohol is prohibited.”

He savored the lingering tang, not moving from his spot at the roof as the disciple approached in warning. Wei Wuxian took out an empty cup and poured one for this chosen company. He received a reproachful stare for his trouble, and he gambled with a pout that he knew only his fathers could resist. “Not even to share it with me?” He was, quite expectedly, met with silence that had him shaking his head ruefully. “I toast to the moon on high. That’s two of us; my shadow makes it three.”

Wei Wuxian was of the belief that it must be the first time that someone had an objection to the emphasis of their ethereal grandeur, though it could be because he fell short on words to properly describe this young master’s beauty. Not that he was given the chance to convey his intentions.

He sidestepped from the obvious assault to his precious alcohol, deftly keeping it away from the flash of silver. Wei Wuxian clicked his tongue reprovingly. “Young master, if the selection is not to your liking, this one will get another and share it with you.” Unable to resist, he asked, "Will you await my swift return?"

“Leave and do not come back,” came the clipped reply that betrayed none of his growing irritation.

“Aiya, there appears to be a misunderstanding.” Wei Wuxian showed the jade token and mustered a bow as formal as his occupied hands allowed. “This one is called Wei Ying, courtesy name Wei Wuxian, who came to Cloud Recesses to study under the Lan Sect’s prodigious tutelage.”

Prodigious was in the vein of how his parents had described the Lan Sect in general. His fathers had been the one to personally explain his situation to the Lan Masters, after all, something which Wei Wuxian had sulked and grumbled over during last year’s spring when he had not been allowed to come with them. A respectable sect rooted in tradition, a-die had said; ascetic and a stickler for discipline, had come from baba, if that isn’t obvious yet with their 3,000 rules.

A bunch of hard-asses, they meant to say. It was as if they had known Wei Wuxian would have gripes with the somewhat stifling ways of the Lan Sect and had softened the blow and at the same time had given him a warning. It helped, he supposed, and while he was usually called tactless, let it not be said that he did not have his moments. He wasn’t a child and student of Wen Kexing for nothing.

At the display of abrupt politeness, the Lan Disciple seemed to ease a little, keeping a respectful distance and returning the gesture with an acknowledging nod—still miffed, however—before stating, “Venturing out at night and bribing an officer are prohibited.”

Wei Wuxian sighed. Calling this disciple a hard-ass would sound unseemly, especially when he deemed his comeliness warranted poetics. He took it back; it was all an illusion, and this display of ridiculous uptightness was the disappointing reality.

“This one asks to be forgiven for not knowing the rules. He is but an outsider who is unlearned of the ways of the Lan.” Wei Wuxian inclined his head, cognizant of how it highlighted his profile and the imploring gaze under thick lashes. “Perhaps if the young master is willing to teach this one...”

Later, he would vehemently claim that he meant no offense (truly!) with his words, but he couldn’t determine whether something slipped in his tone or it was a complete misinterpretation on the Lan Disciple’s end that earned him, and his jar, another strike which was honestly uncalled for.

Wei Wuxian dodged a well-aimed swipe at the wine as if it personally offended the Lan Disciple (it probably did) and kept to his own left side once he figured out the disciple’s dominant hand. He was light on his feet, his footwork firm and steady on top of uneven ground, and it was a mark of a good foundation that he supposed he should have expected from a disciple of a major sect.

The fluidity of his steps and the grace of his swings were an admittedly admirable display of internal balance, and Wei Wuxian had to discern any chink he could press. He twisted, chest against the elbow of the disciple’s right arm that held his sword, a masterful creation that suited its owner. Wei Wuxian leaned, his finger following the curve of the clothed forearm and to the peek of a wrist where a single touch told him of harmonious meridians that resonated with a powerful golden core. Impressive.

He drifted to the hilt of the blade. “Nice sword.” He winked.

“You—”

The Lan disciple pivoted, and Wei Wuxian crouched low from the hit that definitely wasn’t just to incapacitate. He leapt backward, a little captivated at the positively incensed look present that replaced the previously stoic expression. He had a suspicion that this one wasn’t often riled up, and wasn’t that such a regret when he looked nice when impassioned?

Still, Wei Wuxian had to pull back almost reluctantly. It wouldn’t do to antagonize someone way before he could even establish acquaintance with his peers. The last thing he wanted to reach his fathers’ and shixiong’s ears was him causing trouble less than a day since he stepped on the grounds of Cloud Recesses.

“I propose a deal with the young master,” he said, “A duel. If you win, then this one will submit to his punishment.” He smirked. “Any kind of punishment that the young master thinks befit this transgressor.

“And if I win, then the young master will consider the matter settled and this one will leave for the night… with the promise from the young master to share a jar of good wine with me next time, of course.”

Golden eyes narrowed. “Fighting without permission is prohibited.”

“What exactly is not prohibited here?” he asked dryly. “Alright, no duel. Hmm.” His eyes landed at the silk band tied at the young master’s forehead. “Keep me from taking that, then.”

Whatever protest or recitation of another rule broken that was about to escape the Lan Disciple was promptly cut off the second Wei Wuxian darted forward, as quick as a snap of fingers. To the disciple’s credit, his stance barely faltered, already on the defense.

Unfortunately for him, Wei Wuxian grew up playing this game with his senior brothers and sisters, and his favorite distraction for his junior siblings. He could picture himself in the Lan Disciple’s perspective, watching him in slow motion as he snatched the silk ribbon with a wicked, triumphant smile.

A top quality of silk with a pattern of clouds, and it glided against his palm like a touch of feather and carried a faint scent of sandalwood and incense. Wei Wuxian glanced at the frozen young master whose face remained blank as if still processing the quick succession of events, and, in a stroke of inspiration, brought the forehead ribbon to his lips.

“Wei Wuxian will treasure his reward,” he announced earnestly—and immediately retreated in a manner that he hoped was graceful enough for a hasty exit before the young master could recover from his state. “Until next time!”

❆❆❆

Come midnight, his letters were finished, and the ones addressed to his fathers were marked with the recollection of the night’s encounter. A part of him dearly wished he could hear his baba’s chuckle and his a-die’s snort of amusement. No matter. He had half a year to gather anecdotes for them, and as far as he was concerned, it wouldn’t be the last time he would see of... of…

Huh.

Wei Wuxian frowned, thought hard, and scratched the back of his head.

Wait. What was his name again?

❆❆❆

“Four Seasons Sect, take your bow.”

There were not so subtle whispers and murmurs that ensued the declaration, though most that Wei Wuxian could hear was confusion as to who and which sect it was. He stood straighter, making sure his posture exuded his pride for representing the name of his sect, his home. He fell into step next to his shixiong who spoke in a clear and equable voice.

“On behalf of Four Seasons Sect, Zhang Chengling pays respect to Master Lan. I present our disciple who is sent to learn under your guidance, and may he serve as a bridge between the jianghu and the cultivation world.”

“Wei Ying, courtesy name Wei Wuxian of Four Seasons Sect greets Teacher,” Wei Wuxian said, raising his voice amidst the growing incertitude that followed his and his senior’s words as they bowed in perfect synchrony.

“Your mother Cangse Sanren and father Wei Changze are lauded rogue cultivators,” Lan Qiren said, effectively silencing the incredulous mutterings at the distance and doubts at jianghu producing cultivators. “It is good to find their son hale after several years.”

“This one is fortunate to be taken under the care of Four Seasons Sect, to grow and be a part of them. At their behest, we present gifts to symbolize our aspirations for a fortuitous relationship between Gusu Lan Sect and the Four Seasons Sect.

“A sapling of rowan as a symbol of connection, to provide protection against malevolent beings, and to guide home those who are lost. Blackthorn for discipline and control that are the known cores of Lan Sect’s teaching, and also to symbolize overcoming obstacles and hope in the middle of devastation. The last sapling is from a tree that bears a multitude of blooms in varying colors and is native to the Four Seasons Sect where flowers bloom all year round, hence the name after our sect. These are dear treasures from the home I know, hoping for them to grow on the soil that my birth parents lived on.”

The tall man standing beside Lan Qiren, Lan Xichen—the Lan Sect heir, if Wei Wuxian was correct—smiled serenely. “The Lan Sect is grateful for the gifts, and we look forward to them growing in a year’s time. We’ve had the pleasure to meet Master Zhou and Zhen, and it shows in their disciples their virtue and great esteem as sect leaders.”

The mention of his baba’s birth name of Zhen Yan instead of Wen Kexing startled him, though he was certain that there was a valid reason for it. Chengling sent him a small smile that told him he did well, and a knowing look that promised an explanation later.

The welcoming atmosphere was suddenly heckled by a commotion from men in red and black barging in unannounced, the man in the lead sneering how easy it was to get into Cloud Recesses. Lan Xichen addressed him as a Wen, and from what Wei Wuxian gathered, the presence of the Wen Sect was uncommon, not to mention unwanted.

Coming from a sect that outright insulted Cloud Recesses’ lectures, the Wens were keen to send two of their disciples, related to the main branch, no less. Wei Wuxian was unable to contain his snort at the dramatics of it all.

“And who’s this scoundrel?”

Wei Wuxian turned to him with a raised eyebrow. “Scoundrel is too big a title for me,” he quipped, a rakish grin forming when he crossed his arms. “Four Seasons Sect, Wei Wuxian.”

“This boy dares to interrupt me.” The Wen gave him a scrutinizing glare before letting out a sharp bark of a derisive laugh. “I wasn’t aware that Gusu Lan accepts runts from no-name sects.”

“After all that boast of Wen education, I wasn’t aware that disrespect is what they teach you, but here we are.”

“Fine. I’ll teach you how Qishan Wen deals with those who don’t listen well.”

“Master Wen,” called Chengling placatingly. “This is a simple disagreement. There’s no need to be aggressive.”

The attempt to pacify the situation merely grated at the idiot. “And why should I listen to vermins who don’t know their place?!” Seething, the witless Wen jerked and his armed retinue immediately surrounded them, blades drawn and pointing not only at Chengling and Wei Wuxian but also towards others who had been watching the exchange warily. Chengling moved in front of Wei Wuxian, his hand on the hilt of his own sword and keeping him partly hidden for his hand to clutch his fan on the ready.

After a tense minute that felt as if it lasted an hour, soothing notes that he recognized from a xiao resounded, deceptively lulling if not for its effect of disarming the parties involved, the Wen Sect’s weapons clattering down in warning.

“Today is Cloud Recesses’ ceremonial day for taking new students,” Lan Xichen said, his volume never rising but firm. “We ask that Second Young Master Wen conduct himself.”

A woman who called herself Wen Qing stepped in a flourish, ultimately keeping the brittle moment of stillness with her tact. “This is my and my brother Wen Ning’s first time in the Cloud Recesses, and we know not of some of the rules. We hope Teacher Lan and Young Master Lan are forgiving.”

She bowed apologetically to Lan Qiren, Lan Xichen, and even at Chengling. Wei Wuxian, begrudgingly impressed, was under the impression that within the Wen Sect it was either you had modesty in spades or did not understand it at all.

The rest of the Wen retreated, though not without the Wen moron committing Wei Wuxian’s face to memory. Not that he cared a lick after that outright disrespect to his senior—he was willing to give that sneering face a healthy dose of beating next time if necessary.

He was struck with an insight related earlier when his father’s name was brought up. The name of Wen Kexing was never given, and after the distasteful encounter with the Wen Sect, he had a suspicion as to why.

Gripping his shixiong’s arm reassuringly when asked if he was alright, Wei Wuxian cast an assessing sweep across the room, restlessness blanketing pretty much everyone else from the sects present. These were inner disciples of their respective sects, so it was safe to assume that they were no stranger to this kind of behavior from the Wens.

Lan, Nie, Jiang, Jin, and Wen were prominent names in cultivation, and out of all the five, the last was the most dominant in terms of manpower and territory. Knowing how terrifyingly efficient his a-die was when it came to gathering information, Wei Wuxian had an adequate background when it came to the major sects, though he wished he had listened more if only to come up with a better approach from here on out.

He was starting to think that the advice of ‘have fun and make friends’ from his parents was a jest in poor taste. Sighing, his eyes landed on the familiar-looking disciple quietly observing him before his attention snapped elsewhere.

Lips unconsciously twitching into a smile, Wei Wuxian wondered if he was imagining the light pink dusting those pale ears.

[stevenbasic]

“Wait tell me again we lost how many people?!?” I asked, still unable to believe it. Too much was happening, too much too quickly. Here I was, sitting in this monstrosity of an office Melissa has somehow arranged to be built for herself while we were away, in front of her gigantic new desk, still dealing with what happened with Sheryl at home (more on that later), and now this?!? More quittings?!?

“Shhh we’ll be fine…” Melissa soothed, trying to placate me as she poured a coffee for me at her new, elegant coffee station in the corner, “it was just the girls from accounting, Sharon from the front desk, a few part-time medical assistants…” I watched her add sugar and milk, and more milk. “Kathy was having trouble with Doris and Marjorie in accounting, anyway.”

I put my head in my hands. I can’t say I didn’t know this day was coming. So many of my old employees hated Melissa. Or, rather, they hated me for being such a weak turd, so easily enchanted by a big pair of tits that I’d hire an under-qualified, under-experienced girl like “Melissssy” to be their boss and basically run the finances of the practice into the ground, which was exactly what was happening. We’d been bleeding money and now we were bleeding people. Out of a total of seventeen or so original employees at the start, now only a handful were left. The rest, all the new hires were...hers: friends, ex-coworkers, people from this drug company to which she has some connection, a friend in sales. And if she made more hires to replace those that just left, the overwhelming majority at this point would have more loyalty to her than to me. I groaned, lamenting how far I’d let this get....

It was as if she was reading my mind when she consoled me. “Aw, shhhh...You still have CiCi, in scheduling, Aubrey and Brittni at the desk, nurse Vida, a couple medical assistants,” she said, listing the remaining original employees as I took my face from my hands to see her standing over me with my coffee, “And, plus...you have me.”  Her smile was ebullient, and she offered me the warm cup. 

“y-yeah,” I agreed half-heartedly, taking the coffee from her hands, taking my first sip, and immediately noticing she’d put in even more milk than the last time. If I didn’t know any better I’d think she was trying to slowly wean me off coffee, turn me into a milk-drinker. 

She sat back on the desk in front of me, looked down at me with sympathy. It had been a little bit of a shock, after a week of seeing Melissa in the most casual of clothes, in the most revealing of swimwear, to see her in a power suit again. She looked so...put-together, but still dramatically sexy. Her legs, even in her fashionable black pants, were strong and shapely, and even a buttoned-up white blouse and jacket had no chance in hiding the curves of her torso. “Anyway it’s done, they’re gone, they all left last week,” she said, reaching out a hand to cup my face, caress it tenderly, “you don’t have to worry. We took care of it, we have it covered.”

“A-and you knew about th-this, last week? Wh-while we were away?” I asked, voice cracking in my dismay. Though she had told me before, I needed her to repeat it, to explain. 

“Yes, I did,” she clarified, smiling beatifically, “I didn’t want to worry you. I didn’t want to ruin the nice time we were having, spoil your vacation.” She ran her hand through my hair, brushing it off my forehead. “So I didn’t tell you about all the girls that left. Randi took care of a lot of it, and Amelia. And Marisela, she’s been a great help, too.”

I found myself looking at Melissa's wide, soft lap, and sipped again at my milky coffee. Part of me, I have to admit, was relieved that it happened, finally, that the old veterans were more or less all gone, gone with their perspicacity and judgmental glares. Gone and that I didn't have to face them, that I didn’t need to be there for the unpleasantness. Part of me was glad there was someone else that handled things, that did the work. The way Melissa described it earlier, it sounded like there was a shouting match, a throwdown between Randi - who Melissa had left, probably foolishly, “in charge” while we were away - and the remaining old guard.

I could imagine it, Randi locking horns and talking some real shit - the kind Melissa herself would never be capable of - to the old timers, the ones admittedly most essential to the practice. They probably left in disgust, with only a few of the younger women - who had already found themselves gravitating to Melissa’s orbit - staying on. But - Sharon? My Front Desk Supervisor...she’d been with us from the start! Just like Doris and Marjorie from accounting: they’d all be a huge loss. 

“This is all good news, sweetie, a fresh start,” Melissa purred, continuing to assure me that everything was well in hand, “the only people here now are the ones totally committed to helping us grow and change and get better. And don’t worry, we’ll get in some new girls that love the practice, love you as much as we do. We want to keep you safe, secure...” She watched as I nervously finished the last of my coffee. “Do you want another cup?”

“uuuhhhh...sure…” I replied, as already she’d stood, had taken my cup from my hands. I watched her full hips and big rear, blessed with what looked like an extra sway in her tight black pants, as they rolled voluptuously back to her coffee station.

Safety. Security. ”Hey, uh...what’s up with the new security, on the computers?” I asked, as she fixed me another cup, “How much did that cos-”

“Oh, it didn’t cost us anything,” she replied, as once again she poured a more-than-healthy amount of milk into my coffee, “it was all paid for by Lean In…along with the additions, the improvements, the renovations, too.”

She meant her office, of course. This office. 

I was shocked when I had first came around the corner, directed by Marisela back to where we used to have two old storage rooms, only to find an entire new wing, a bright, contemporary hallway where once there was none. Had we taken space from the suite of offices next door?! Who’d okayed this?? How’d it get done so quickly?? We were away for only a week and I come home to...this?!? The hallway led, it seemed, to several new rooms: the first, on my right, looking to be the most impressive of them, behind an elegant set of double doors, a transom window above. On the door, a sophisticated placard: “Melissa Monroe - Office Manager”.

This was Melissa’s new office?!? Flabbergasted even before I first walked in, my jaw totally hit the floor when I opened the door and - I couldn’t believe my eyes. It was beautiful, and it was big. Modern, lots of whites, grays, natural driftwood tones brightened by tons of natural light. There was a sitting area with a voluptuous white couch, a big, comfortable chair and a plush white area rug underneath it all. Huge windows with a seductive view of the city skyline loomed behind an impressive desk at which sat a queen ready to receive her subjects: Melissa, my twenty-something new Office Manager. The whole place looked - and, I realized, as I stepped in - smelled just like her. Immediately - crap, whyyyyy…?? Is this some sort of weird instinct, now? - I felt myself thickening across my hip.

She stood, spreading her arms wide, and with a great swell of her chest in pride asked me: “Don’t you love it???” 

“I-it’s...b-beautiful…” was all I could manage as I walked in, unable to shake the feeling that I was entering dangerous territory, soil that was not my own. A new domain that was undeniably...hers.

She had giggled, and had asked me to sit.

So as I sat here now and drank my second cup of milk-thick coffee I looked around, again. I was beside myself. So, it was all paid for by “Lean In”?? Great, but I never intended for her to have an office!  Previously, she was just stationed in her own area in the main central space, in a semi-private corner but among the other staff. She had had a desk but now - an office?!? And - it’s so much bigger than mine!! By...a lot! It makes mine look like a walk-in closet! Did she realize it?? Was she that oblivious to how emasculating it is seeing a young, attractive employee get a bigger office than you? Or - the more scary thought - was that the point?

“The people at Lean In were so cool, more than happy to pay for it all,” Melissa explained, “as long as it was supporting growth in a company like ours.”

I knew I shouldn’t even ask it...but then I did. “L-like ours?”

She smiled benevolently down at me. “Woman-owned, woman-managed,” she said, as gently as she could, barely containing the giddy, feminist pride that was so obviously bubbling inside her. “Sheryl was the one that okayed the construction,” she added, as if unable to help herself. 

In the subtext, I felt like an afterthought, and was acutely aware of the fragile bones of my pride snapping, just like kindling, inside me. 

“We all thought the changes, the new rooms, the extra money for staff, would be great,” she continued, taking a moment to look around, admire her handiwork, “perfect first steps in our expansion.”

“E-expansion?” 

”Well, of course we need to replace the girls that we lost,” Melissa said, her eyes rolling but then falling back down to me again, “but we should add even more people, make ourselves bigger. It’s part of Lean In...growth, development, success, for women.” She was watching me closely. “Don’t you want to see that?”

”w-well, yes, of course,” I stammered, reflexively, “b-but...wait, what? more people?” Didn’t we have trouble meeting payroll just last week?

”To help revenue, since you’re not bringing in as much anymore - oh, shh don’t feel bad!” she continued, seeing my startled reaction. 

I was doing fine! Seeing patients, billing. It’s the financial mismanagement, the crummy scheduling and day-to-days of you and your...your...people that are-

“It’s okay, it’s okay, we’ll fix it. Lean In gave me some ideas, and I got some more ideas at the conference on how to make it work,” she went on, obviously excited for her new plans, “We should hire more providers - they’ll all have to be women, of course, for Lean In - but Nurse Practitioners, maybe a Nurse Asstha...Attess…”

“Aesthetician?” I helped, even through my disarray.

“Yes, that..! <giggle!> They can all make us a lot of money,” she said, “And they’ll all need support staff, so that’s more people…”

Of course I’d considered all this, adding secondary providers like PAs, APRNs, employees that can bill aside from myself so the practice has more income. We already had one part-time APRN, Vida...when I’d done the numbers before it just never made sense to bring on more. Why would it now? And...an Aesthetician - what did they do? Botox, Laser hair removal, chemical peels? At a Geriatrics practice?

“It sounds...expensive,” I said, knowing I was being too meek but god help me unable to disappoint her, not wanting to upset her by really putting my foot down with a ‘no’. “Expensive” was all I could manage. .

“It’s okay,” she quickly replied, ready with her response, “we have the Lean In money to start...and they'll bring in more than you, pretty quickly.“

Oh my god. It was like I could hear the overwrought strands of my stretched-thin ego actually snapping.

“okay okay okay...we can talk about it,” I said, disbelieving how far this conversation had gotten already. I was such a mess, after the travel and the fight with Sheryl and the bad night of sleep, the return to work and the thing with the computer, her office and now this. But I knew I had to step up, be proactive. Remember the last round of quittings, and the new hires after that? That’s how we got Amelia, and Josie, and that stern lady in accounting. “But first we have to replace the people we lost, just so we can operate,” I said, with as much authority as I could muster, adding, “a-and I want to be more involved this time.”

“Oh, of course, sugar, sure, if you insist,” Melissa replied, sweetly, indulgently, “I’ve already asked Randi to start looking for some girls. Here, why don’t we bring her in...” At that, she turned to her right and pressed the button on an intercom. “You two can come in now,” she announced. 

In less than a moment the door behind me had opened, and I craned my neck to see both Randi and Marisela stepping in. “Hiiiiii….” Randi keened, while Marisela just smiled.  Both were dark of complexion, dark of hair. Both were wearing black, both were in similar outfits. Randi’s pants, though, had flared cuffs while Marisela’s outfit was more figure-hugging head-to-toe. Randi was also wearing higher heels and a clingy silk blouse. Despite myself, I felt my loins respond...I was suddenly in a room with three very attractive women.

Politely, I started to stand, to offer one of them my chair. Melissa, though, immediately stopped me, sticking out her foot onto my seat, between my legs. “No, you sit,” she commanded.

I froze, sat back down, and in the next moment they were behind me, flanking me, one on either side. For some reason, my heart had quickened, and I felt surrounded. “H-hi ladies…” I stuttered, hearing the wimpish uncertainty in my voice, and then the contented purring of Marisela and Randi as they settled warmly behind me, close and confident.

”So... Dr. J agrees,” Melissa began, addressing her attendants, “we need to hire some more girls, and he wants to make sure he’s more involved in the process this time. Think we can do that?”

“Oh, for sure,” Randi answered, her voice entirely too sultry for a Monday morning, “I think we can do that.” She placed her hand on my left shoulder. “Can’t we, Marisela?” 

“Mmhm yeah sure...we can do that,” Marisela agreed, her hand now on my other shoulder. I caught myself swallowing dryly, confused. Marisela, in the past, had never seemed to warm to the new girls, to Randi, to Melissa. In fact, I thought she kinda hated them, in her own dark, quiet, passive aggressive way.

When Randi spoke up, it was again as if my mind was being read. ”With you gone last week, Dr J, with less patients, we girls had a lot of time to get to know one another,” she said, hovering close behind me on my left, “I think we all really started to come together as a team-.” . 

”...and realize how much we missed you,” Marisela chimed in, on my right, coming closer. I could feel the warmth of both of their bodies behind me, and it was doing nothing for my efforts to keep myself from - ugh - slowly hardening in my slacks.

“We had an early meeting this morning, at seven, all the girls,” Melissa said, her eyes on me, “so now we’re all on the same page, the new and old staff.” She cocked her head. “Randi? Would you fix his hair for me?”

“Haha yeah…” Randi replied, running a hand through my hair, arranging stray locks over my left ear.

“I told them all about some of the stuff we talked about on vacation,” Melissa continued, smiling as her friend tended to me, idly.

”L-like...what stuff?” I stammered, recoiling already at the memories, but allowing Randi’s ministrations. The thought of them all know-

”Ohh you remember…‘It can be more like this when we get home, y’know, with all the girls,’” Marisela said, as if repeating word-for-word what Melissa had said to me, that morning out by the pool as she loomed over me with her huge breasts in that white bikini, “It doesn’t have to be just Melissa. You can take care of patients-”

“...and we’ll take care of you,” Randi said, picking up where Marisela left off, in perfect harmony, repeating verbatim what Melissa had promised me, “Let us do all the hard work, make sure everything is easy for you, make sure that you’re comfortable, happy…”

“...that you get everything you need,” Marisela continued, moving her left arm around my neck, tighter. I felt the subtle press of her d-cup against the back of my head. What the fuck was happening?!?

“You remember…” Melisssa purred, leaning in towards me from where she sat, over me, on her huge new desk.

looked after, protected... 

I thought back, in that instant, to the starkly contrasting moment of last night, of my fight with Sheryl.

...supported...nurtured, fed…

Where she, Sheryl...she did what she did. While these girls, this group of women, seemed ready for me, ready for me to land in, ready to catch my fall.

...burped...changed…

“All you have to do is sit back and...let us. Let me,” Melissa said. As my cock pressed uncomfortably into my leg, straining my pants under the hapless cover of my folded arms, I could feel it, imagining it again….a finger trace across my bare belly, like that morning, as I lay on the lounger by the pool, “Let me expand what we can do, let us grow...”

The girls grew closer, like a coven coalescing around me.

But...but...I knew...I knew what I’d said I’d do. That I’d...be better. That I’d...be strong. That I’d...

”I-I th-think-“

”Shhhh...that’s your problem,” Melissa stopped me, before I even began, leaning even closer towards me on the desk, bringing her face nearer to my own, “stop thinking, sweetie, stop worrying…” 

”Yeah, Dr, J, that’s right...” Randi breathed.

:”...that’s for us to do now….” Marisela concluded, “...boss.”

================================

Thanks to user at GTSCity Rivense1 a way's back for the idea on the new office, and of course SaulJinzer for the Melissssy render. Check out his DeviantArt: lots of great Denise Milani giantess stuff and his 3D model for her is top-notch.

[adelindschade]

Karma is a female-dog

Moroha found the dance between Setsuna and Hisui hilarious. Never one for romance, she enjoyed the awkwardness that surrounded the pair. The boy was much more in love in the half-demon than she was him. Inevitable heartbreak, Moroha predicted. She also relished in the red that overcame his face whenever she pointed it out. In front of her father, his father – anyone, really! And he’d lash out with his weapon of choice – just too slow to make a contact; she was too swift.

So, karma had to repay the favor.

One errand. That’s all. A trip from one village to the other for mere supplies. Of course, her mother insisted she wear something less conspicuous. A frivolous kimono borrowed from Sango. And no teeth. Be polite – don’t say anything smart. That part was uttered by her hypocritical father – though his intentions meant well, too concerned his daughter would be harmed by people propelled by prejudice. Not that she couldn’t hold her own…

Which is why she didn’t mind picking a fight with a demon that she came across attacking a procession of men. They were no match for the gigantic beast but she came prepared with her sword, hidden well. Not even her father spied the piece as she slipped off. Nor would he have said something because better safe than sorry. Her mother would have opted for a bow. Thankfully, she gathered that, too, having tucked it away out of her father’s sight and grabbed it as she rounded the hut.

A rebel through and through. Seventeen going onto forever. She was invincible.

Her hair was done in a much more mature fashion – much to her chagrin as she had to set aside precious seconds to tie it back. Another man had fallen from his horse; another slain. She raised her bow and shot it straight – piercing armor made of bone. The beast howled and glared down at the surprisingly small woman.

“You!” It thrashed, attempting to grab her. Her reflexes were keener than its own, evading capture with a simple jump back. She wielded her preferred weapon, a sword of strength and stealth that matched her own.

It screamed as its wrist was sliced clean up. Screw her kimono – she doubted it was the first time the fabric had been spoiled with blood. Sango would know how to clean it out. She made another slice, aiming at its neck. Blood was rampant in the air but she did her best to ignore the stench.

For a demon so large, it offered little fight. She was disappointed to see it cut down so fast. She wanted something more. With a heavy sigh, she yielded her sword and secured her bow back in place.

“Not even a bounty,” she lamented as she walked pass. A corpse or two lay in her wake; nothing could be done for them. Her father would’ve pitied them but moved on. The living would attend to the carnage. She had another mission. Her mother would have a fit if she did not come by sundown with the desired herbs.

“Miss! Miss!”

She paused mid-step, glancing back with curiosity. A man of noble tier scrambled her way, traumatized by the slaughter yet having not a scratch on his body. He must’ve been important to be protected.

“Yeah?”

“Miss! I must know your name to express my deepest gratitude!”

“Uh…” she mustered. If she said her name, it could come back to bite her. Yet, what harm could it do?

“Moroha,” she decided to oblige him.

“Lady Moroha? I am indebted to you. You have demonstrated great skill and bravery in face of true terror. As a reward for saving my life from certain death, I’d be honored if you would accept my proposal of marriage.”

“What…?” she stammered.

“I am Nobleman Akio Inoue, the youngest child and only son of Chieftain-”

“Sorry, but no,” she rudely interrupted. So much for avoiding harm. She just insulted some high-and-might-nobleman. Would her father care? No. Would he hate the idea of having to deal with the aftermath of a man’s wounded pride? Of course. But he’d rather deal with that than send his daughter off to a stranger. “My father would not accept,” she attempted to ease the brunt of the blow.

“Whom is your father?” he inquired.

“Uh…”

Myoga had called him a Lord. And her mother a Lady. But she had always known them to be called nothing more than a half-demon and a priestess. Informally, Inuyasha and Kagome. She always called them Mom and Dad. Yet, her heritage may claim more rank above the nobleman’s if she took into consideration the demon hierarchy. She wouldn’t explain such to him since she scarcely understood it herself.

“None of your concern,” she eased. “Your expression of gratitude will suffice. Carry on,” she dismissed hastily. Her steps fastened and she swiftly escaped out of ear shot, though she heard him call her out plenty in her retreat.

She nearly forgot the experience altogether, grumbling to her father about the scolding she received from her mother upon returning home later than usual and bearing blood all over the borrowed clothes. He laughed, patted her hair, granted her his usual line of “could be worse” before walking off into the village where she was certain he sought to converse with Miroku over their latest job.

Or tease Hisui over his crush on Setsuna. Inuyasha found it humorous a slayer was enamored with Sesshomaru’s offspring. ‘Kid is suicidal,’ her father would tease. Setsuna wasn’t as warm to Inuyasha as she was to Moroha – distrusting of the adult half-demon more so for his connection with her estranged father than anything else.

Talks of proposals were long forgotten until one unexpected visit from a nearby nobleman had Moroha hiding behind Kaede’s hut. Her mother was alarmed.

“I’ll be off!” she squeaked but her mother kept her cornered.

“Why are you so scared of being seen?” her mother questioned with crossed arms. “Shy is not a word I’d describe you as.”

“Uh…”

“Spit it out, Moroha!”

“I SAVED HIM FROM A DEMON AND HE PROPOSED TO ME AND I SAID NO!” Moroha breathed all at once. She was wide eyed and panicked, much like her mother who exhibited the same nervous expression.

“What?!”

“I DIDN’T TELL DAD BECAUSE DAD WOULD – WELL, YOU KNOW HIM! SO, I DIDN’T SAY ANYTHING AND I THOUGHT IT WOULDN’T BE A PROBLEM BECAUSE I’D NEVER SEE HIM AGAIN BUT THAT’S NOT THE CASE!”

“Moroha, one trip by yourself and we’ve slighted a noble family! I don’t know if your father would be proud of you or furious!”

“Just hide me! I was never here!!”

“Uh, oh,” Kagome winced.

“What?” Moroha whispered.

“He’s caught the village’s attention.”

“No, no, no, no,” Moroha pleaded helplessly. She hid into her mother’s shoulder.

“I seek a fair maiden by the name of Moroha!” the man announced. “I was told she resides here!”

The demon’s ears twitched.

“Did he just…?” Setsuna asked, eyeing the stranger whose caravan arrived in their measly village.

“Fair? Is he talking about our Moroha?” Hisui chuckled. That earned a small grin from Setsuna.

“She must have hit him too hard on the head,” she replied. He laughed at her jab.

“She is cute… when she wants to be,” Shippo jabbed. “She’s a bit of a tomboy.” He spied an emerging figure from the nearby tree stepping onto the road. “Uh-oh…”

“What about her?” Inuyasha stepped forward. His voice was harsh and cautious.

“I desire to seek out her father,” he replied sternly. “I have business with him that requires immediate attention.”

“How so…” Inuyasha insisted, arms crossed and eyes set in a beady glare.

“It does not concern you, half-demon! Step aside!” the man cast with a strong arm to the left.

“It sure as hell does when it’s my daughter you’re talking about,” Inuyasha spat. His hand wavered over the sheath of his trusted sword.

“We don’t know a Moroha! He is confused!” Kagome intervened with lightning speed. She bowed incessantly. Inuyasha looked down with utter confusion.

“Priestess, you know this half-demon?”

Before Inuyasha could say anything, Kagome snuck a small glare his way. “Don’t say anything!” she hissed.

“Okay…” he grumbled.

“We know a Moroha!” Hisui spoke out. He was the recipient of icy glares from both parents and child alike. Setsuna was unmoved.

“What business do you have with her?” her cousin pitched.

“I desire to speak with her father at once!”

“He’s right here – what do you have to say? Get on with it,” Inuyasha spat, baring his teeth.

“Inuyasha…” Kagome whispered, tugging him back by his arm to no avail.

“In no way could a half-demon like you reproduce such a fine creature as she,” the nobleman sneered.

“Thanks for the compliment but get on with it before I part you head from your body, idiot,” Inuyasha snarled.

Kagome paled. Moroha shrunk in the shadows.

“Perhaps I can intermediate,” Miroku intervened. He stepped between the two. “I can attest my friend, though foul tempered, is indeed the father of the woman you inquire about.”

“I agree with Inuyasha – what business do you have with her?” Sango joined. Her hand was purposely placed on her weapon, ready to draw.

“She is my betrothed!”

“No, I’m not!” Moroha shrieked as she emerged from her hiding place. “I said no!”

“You said your father would not approve,” Akio mused.

“I said no and that he wouldn’t approve!” she raised her voice as an angry red overcame her features.

“Which I don’t!” Inuyasha joined.

“Get that through your thick skull! Move on!!” Moroha seconded.

“You are… partially demon,” Akio nodded. “That explains your strength and bravery. Nonetheless, I am indebted to you, and your heritage does not dissuade me from fulfilling my promise.”

“The hell you will! Hands off my daughter, you freak,” Inuyasha snarled, drawing his sword.

Setsuna chuckled. Hisui sputtered, doing his best to hide his amusement after a reprimanding look from his uncle, followed by his own parents who were worried by Inuyasha retaliating.

“This is one big misunderstanding,” Kagome waved off before retracting her daughter behind her.

“A priestess and a half-demon… such a peculiar union…”

“If you got something to say, pal, say it!”

“Inuyasha! Sit, boy!”

A thunderous thud followed, with her father planted on the road.

“Ow!!”

Moroha stiffened, never so happy in her life to be free of such damning beads.

“Sorry, Dad!” She squeaked.

“Why do you approve of such a match? Surely, I’d elevate her station, and bestow our children with a better quality of life,” he made the mistake of justifying. “They would exhibit a lesser degree of demonic energy as she or yourself. We could disguise that properly.”

“CHILDREN?!” Both daughter-and-father cried incredulously.

Kagome sputtered. “Excuse me, she’s seventeen!”

“He’s surely digging his own grave,” Sango sighed.

“Perhaps it’s best we let her father do the honors,” Miroku agreed. He wasn’t naïve enough to think he’d react any differently where his twins were concerned. They stepped out of the way in tandem.

“This will be a slaughter,” Setsuna theorized.

“I am not a cow to be bred!” Moroha squawked. “I’ll kill you myself!”

“No one is killing anyone!” Kagome disagreed. She breathed nervously. “I’m sorry you came all this way… but marriage is not in the future for you two,” she attempted to mediate.

“Is she already spoken for?”

“No! She’s seventeen and under my care!” Inuyasha growled with a raised fist.

“Oh, so you already prepared a match with someone of your likeness,” Akio accused with narrowed us. “I disagree – it’d be a disservice for your daughter.”

“That’s not your call to make and she isn’t marrying anyone anytime soon! Not if I have any say in it!”

“Yeah! Marriage ain’t for me, buddy!” Moroha copied.

“I wouldn’t turn it down so soon if I were you,” Hisui humored. “This could be your one and only chance.”

Moroha steered towards him with raging eyes.

“No one asked you, Hisui!”

“Butt out, you! Miroku! Manage your son!”

“Now is not the time, son,” Miroku meekly said as he approached his offspring.

“I’m inclined to agree,” Setsuna joined.

“With me…?” Hisui prompted, hopeful she was aligning herself with him.

“This one or perhaps, if he’s still enamored, the wolf boy, too,” Setsuna added.

“Enough!” Inuyasha bellowed. He nearly drew out his sword had it not been for Kagome who stepped in front of him, guarding him.

“Would you decline nobility and comfortability?” Akio asked Moroha.

“I do! I’m staying right here! Time to go! Good-bye! See you never!”

“Manners,” Kagome warned.

“Screw manners,” Inuyasha cursed.

“So be it,” Akio dejected. He pulled the reigns of the steed, prompting the horse forward. He passed by the family of three as he did.

“No offense has been taken, I assure you,” he calmly said as his eyes set upon Moroha. “I bid you good fortune, Lady Moroha, and you, too… half-demon, priestess…”

Inuyasha was tense, hands fisted, alongside his daughter who bore teeth as he passed. A real feral child – however cute she may be in her mother’s eyes. Kagome waved awkwardly.

“You missed your chance to marry rich,” Hisui teased as he joined the threesome alongside his parents.

“You handled yourself pretty well given the circumstances,” Miroku chuckled.

“Moroha…” Inuyasha warned. She felt his eyes burn into her skull. She trembled.

“Mom can explain!!” She squealed, running away.

“Not a chance! Get back here!” Inuyasha gave chase.

“I wonder what your dad would do if someone tried to ask for your hand,” Hisui joked to Setsuna.

“Kill him, no doubt,” Setsuna answered promptly.

The color on his face drained.

“Maybe we should pick our battles,” Sango warned – enjoying the terror on her boy’s face as she, too, foresaw his crush teetering on delusional.