#and me realizing that i consider my friend's departure from the country the end of an era

[famewolf]

got back from the lake last night

it was a ton of fun and we spent most of it zooted out of our minds. but it also really hit me how much has changed in the last 8+ years. seeing a bunch of people that I hadnt seen since my teens or early 20s. it strangely put a lot of things into perspective for me, especially considering I feel like I lost time due to the pandemic.

all in all, a lot of relaxing and chatting and eating good food!

[stiltonbasket]

anything to share from flowers in the palace verse? :3

(take a short preview of one of the upcoming oneshots!)

“I want to send Wei Ying to the Cloud Recesses with A-Cheng.”

Jiang Fengmian glances up from the kite he was painting. 

“Why?” he asks, perplexed. “Her education has been more than satisfactory. If she went to the Cloud Recesses, she would find the lessons terribly dull: and you know how A-Ying hates to be bored with her lessons. Lan Qiren would be half out of his wits by the time she left.”

“Of that I have no doubt,” Ziyuan says drily. “But I have more practical intentions for this venture, if you will hear me out.”

He nods and lays down his brush. “What are they?”

“Wei Ying is nearly seventeen, and we have not yet found a bridegroom for her,” his wife explains, seating herself on the chair across from his. “A-Li’s future is assured, and A-Cheng will not take kindly to our meddling in his prospects—and he’ll make a more attractive husband after he passes the imperial exams, so we needn’t think of him now. But finding a suitable groom for A-Ying will be difficult, so why not send her to Lan Qiren’s academy and let her look for a bridegroom there?”

“It is a good idea,” muses Jiang Fengmian. “But A-Ying is still young. If the choice were left to me, I would not have her wed within these next five years at least; and I do not think she would agree to look for a bridegroom so soon, even if we asked her to.”

“I’m not going to ask her,” Ziyuan scoffs. “I already have a family in mind, and Wei Ying already has friends among the clan. She need not do anything more than secure one or two banquet invitations before the end of the lecture course, or drag a few of the boys into whatever mishap she will surely have planned for Lan Qiren.”

“Which family do you mean, my lady?”

“The Nie family. You know A-Ying cannot live in just any household, Fengmian: and now that I think on it, she will fare best in a military clan like the Nie. She has studied military history, and she can manage an estate upon a fraction of the budget it ought to have—and most importantly, no relation of Nie Huangyin’s would dare interfere with her schooling if she chose to stay on at Pan Gaolin’s academy after her wedding.”

“Neither would a Lan,” Jiang Fengmian points out. “Why not ask A-Ying to consider one of them?”

His wife scowls at him. “I want to inconvenience Lan Qiren, not kill him.”

“Very well,” he says, laughing. “Let it be as you say, then.”

“Good. Now, write to Qiren and tell him to prepare an extra place in the girls’ dormitory. Most likely, he will ask one of his nieces to look after her until she settles in; and if we're lucky, it will be the one betrothed to Nie Mingjue.”

So A-Ying goes off to the Cloud Recesses two weeks later, taking a box of A-Li’s baked sweets and a very apprehensive A-Cheng with her. To Ziyuan’s disappointment, Lan Xichen is too busy with her own duties to spend much time with Wei Ying; but three days after A-Ying’s departure, she sends Jiang Fengmian an exhilarated letter that appears to be almost entirely about Qiren’s younger niece, Lan Wangji. 

“Well, that’s something,” Yu Ziyuan says slowly, when Jiang Fengmian reports to her office with the letter. “If Wei Ying has made friends with Lan Wangji, then she is sure to be welcome at the Unclean Realm after Lan-guniang and Nie Mingjue are married.”

Jiang Fengmian nods. The words of A-Ying’s letter are already fading from his mind, for he had received so many over the course of his travels throughout the country, but in later years—after his first daughter lost her betrothed, and after both she and her sister were shut away behind the high walls of the palace hougong where one of his mother’s distant cousins had taken her own life to escape her emperor husband—he would return to his study and open the old desk drawer devoted to his children’s keepsakes, and realize that the seeds of A-Ying’s true marriage had been planted beneath his very nose. 

He and Ziyuan sent her off to find a husband, and in her dear, wild-hearted way—she found a wife instead.

[yanderememes]

Solitary Love Chapter 8 (Yandere Giorno x Reader)

It's here! I was determined to post it this week so I really pushed myself to meet my deadline. I hope to post chapter 9 soon considering it's about 80% done. And I know I keep saying this, but for those who have been following this series and have made it this far... THANK YOU. Your support really does mean a lot to me.

It's thanks to your guys' support that I've been thinking about writing fics more and not just headcanons or make memes. But don't worry, that doesn't mean I'm abandoning them, just expanding my horizons! I would like to eventually write for other JJBA characters too like Dio and Jotaro. But I don't want to start several series and not keep up with any of them. I'm going to focus solely on this series so I can really give it my all.

The past few chapters were Giorno's POV so now we return to reader!

2 days left before departure

The sound of applause echoed throughout the room as the presenter finished his presentation. You were at a conference with the rest of your class and professor about the latest findings and research in the psychology world. Renowned Italian psychologists who revolutionized modern psychology were on the list of presenters tonight and you couldn’t be more thrilled and honored to be here.

Professor Hollman wanted to take this time for the class to really take something away from this whole trip across the globe. After all, he couldn’t bring his class to one of the world’s most beautiful countries under the pretense of “education” and not having them learn anything remotely related to their field of study.

With the conference coming adieu, many of the guests and presenters took this time to socialize and grab refreshments. These psychology conferences often lasted hours not only due to the presentations but also the criticism and bickering the older gentlemen and ladies had with each other over conflicting theories and beliefs.

Sighing, you took a sip of your water, praying you wouldn’t end up like them one day in the future.

“Signora l/n, was it? Dr. Hollman’s student.” you hear a voice say. Putting your cup down, you lock eyes with the man standing before you and realize the voice belonged to him. He was a fairly dark-skinned man with slick back hair of average height.

“Si (yes). I am y/n.”

“Fascinating thesis you presented. What inspired you to research it?”

You paused. How did he know about your thesis? You didn’t present it at this conference so where did he hear about it? Before you could ask, he seemed to have caught on to your confusion.

“I was an attendee when you and your class presented your theses. You probably didn’t see me but I do remember you and your work. Amazing job, by the way.”

“Grazie (thank you),” you flashed him a smile. “I was inspired to do my research on childhood trauma because it seems to be a common occurrence around the world, unfortunately. Freud was a lot of things, but he snapped when he said one’s childhood experiences can heavily impact your life into adulthood.”

The man laughed. “Infatti (indeed). Men marry their mothers and women marry their fathers which may perpetuate the vicious cycle. Perhaps may even be a factor to consider when examining Stockholm syndrome.”

That piqued your interest, “That would be an interesting study. What area of psych do you specialize in?”

“Criminal psychology. Stockholm syndrome, psychopaths, serial killers, kidnappings, you know, all the fun stuff.”

“Very fun,” you sarcastically said.

You both burst out laughing at the ridiculousness of your conversation. You never hit it off with someone as quickly as you did with this man. Giorno and Aurelio were a close second but you could tell Giorno had his walls up and was somewhat intimidating, to be honest. Aurelio was just fun to be around until his unfortunate accident. But this man was different. You both conversed as if you were long-time friends just catching up. You then realized you didn’t even grab this man’s name yet. So you asked.

“Loris Peralta, at your service, signora.” he smiled and bowed. “Seeing as I already know your name, y/n. I’d love to take you to dinner. How about it?”

Your eyes sparkled. A chance to go out with this charming fella? How could you refuse? “Alright. It’s a date,” you smiled.

He returned your smile with one of his own, “Excellent. I’ll come pick you up at around 7?”

You nodded excitedly, “I’ll see you at 7!”

***

“Ooh~ y/n’s going on a date!” your friend teased.

You couldn’t help but smile at your friend’s teasing. You were super excited for tonight to the point where you couldn’t stop giggling like a teen schoolgirl thinking about their crush. Although you’ve had your fair share of dates in the past, you weren’t quite as excited for previous dates as you were for tonight.

You decided to wear a long tight-fitted red spaghetti-strapped dress to accentuate your figure and show off your curves. While you were making some finishing touches with your makeup in the bathroom, you heard your notifications from your phone ring.

Hey y/n, my car broke down so I won’t be able to pick you up. Is it okay if we meet at the restaurant?

Putting down your makeup brush to reply to Loris, you felt a bit of disappointment. But it wasn’t his fault his car broke down. Things happen.

Okay. I’ll see u then.

“He’s here?” your friend walked in to check in on you.

“He said his car broke down and we’ll have to meet at the restaurant”

“Damn, that sucks. Want me to call a taxi for you?”

Nodding your head, you thank your friend and finish up with your makeup.

Sliding on your matching red heels and grabbing your clutch purse, you head out of your hotel room but not before saying goodbye to your friends.

“Bye guys!” you waved at them before turning the doorknob to exit.

“Bye! Don’t get pregnant!” your friends laugh.

Rolling your eyes and shaking your head, you leave close the door behind you and make your way down to get into your taxi.

***

It didn’t take long for your taxi to reach your destination. Glancing at your phone, the time read 6:50pm, so you were a bit early. Paying your taxi driver, you step out of the vehicle and wait by the sidewalk for your date just outside the restaurant.

It looked like he still wasn’t here yet. Maybe you were just too early. You stood there waiting for Loris and decided to message him to let him know you arrived.

Hey! I’m here a bit early lol. Lmk when u get here

You don’t expect him to reply right away so you just scrolled through your social media to kill some time before Loris got here.

7:00pm. Still no sign of Loris and no text messages from him. Okay, no big deal. You continue scrolling through social media.

7:10pm. Nothing from your date. You decide to message him again.

Are you here yet?

No response.

7:20pm. No text back and not a man resembling Loris in sight. This time you’ll try calling him. Pressing your phone up to your ear, you stood there listening to the ringing of the tone, waiting for this man to pick up his phone.

Your call cannot be connected to the person you are trying to call. Please leave a message after the tone.

Deeply sighing you hang up, not bothering to leave a voice message. Is he going to be a no-show? You couldn’t help but wonder that. Looking at the time again for what felt like the hundredth time, it had already been 25 minutes past your agreed time to meet. You haven’t heard anything from Loris since he told you his car broke down. You debate whether you should leave or wait for a few more minutes. If lady luck is on your side then he may turn up any minute now.

For better or for worse, you tell yourself you will wait for another 10 minutes. But when the clock strikes 7:30 and he still doesn’t show up or contact you, you’re leaving.

Time passed as you continued to try and kill time by playing on your phone. Refreshing your social media feed, watching Youtube videos, heck, even reading the news was appealing!

Finally, the time changed to 7:30 and there were no notifications from Loris. No calls either. Looking left and right and across the sidewalk, you did not see him for as far as the human eye can see. Keeping true to your word, you called for a taxi and made your way back to your hotel.

***

Practically stomping to the lobby of your hotel, you fumed as you were beyond pissed off and upset.

He stood you up.

You couldn’t believe it. This was the first time any date had stood you up. But oh no, you weren’t just going to ignore this. He’s gonna get a piece of your mind, the bastard!

You stood firm on the lobby’s floor and began typing furiously. You were too angry to let this simmer down and go back to your room right now.

At first, you were going to cuss him out and tell him how pathetic he was but after some consideration, you rationalized it probably wasn’t the best idea. What if that’s what he wants? What if he was some troll who enjoyed getting a rise out of people? Then you’d be playing in the palm of his hand. If you could take away anything that you learned in your psychology program, it’s that trolls like Loris do these kinds of things to get a reaction. Giving them a reaction only enables their behaviour to do it again.

So you erase the message you had written out for him and decide to be the bigger person.

Hi Loris,

I was really looking forward to our date tonight and after waiting for half an hour outside, I’m quite disappointed that you didn’t even bother to respond to any of my messages, let alone not show up. It was nice meeting you earlier today at the conference hall but I don’t think this relationship will work out. I wish you all the best.

Regards,

Y/N

Tapping the send button, a wave of exasperation washed away. Exhaling, you felt like you can finally breathe again after that stressful event you just experienced. You’d be lying if you said apart of you wished you had sent your original message, filled with cuss words and other vulgar things. But you figured this was for the best. You won’t stoop to his level. However, that didn’t mean your feeling weren’t hurt though.

“Rough night, huh?” you hear a familiar voice speak behind you. Turning around to see the owner, you found the face of a man you’ve been seeing a lot as of late.

“Giorno!” you gasp.

“Piacere di vederla (it’s nice to see you), y/n.” he flashed you his dashing boyish smile.

“What brings you here?”

“I was around the neighbourhood and thought I’d stop by to say hello to Signor Tocci. He’s a friend of mine and the owner of this hotel.”

You stared at him before quietly mumbling an “oh”. You couldn’t help but wonder how many connections Giorno must have. If anything you were astonished but he could have just known the owner from childhood or something.

Getting you out of your head, Giorno asked, “you look distressed. Did something happen?”

How did he know? Well, yes, you are a bit distressed after your experience with Loris but you always had a habit of concealing your true feelings, especially if they were negative. In your opinion, you don’t want to burden others with your negative emotions so you put on a mask and learn to deal with it yourself. You’ve been practising this for years and not even your closest friends would notice. So how did he? Did you make it so noticeable? You didn’t think so.

Regardless, it wouldn’t hurt to tell him, “My date stood me up.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Probably worked out for the best. He was an asshole. Acting all friendly when we met and then making excuses on our night out. He could have just told me he wasn’t interested instead of wasting my time like this.” you couldn’t help but sigh.

“You deserve better.”

You blush at his words, “u-uh. Thank you…” you turned your head to avoid eye contact. Damnit, you stuttered.

Compliments always did make you feel awkward. Giorno noticed this and you could see from the corner of your eye, he was amused judging by the look on his face.

You’ve encountered Giorno several times at this point during your trip here in Italy. You aren’t one to brag but you often did have gut feelings about certain people that were always on the nose. When you first met Giorno, he seemed like a well-mannered gentleman. Aside from the way he looked and dressed, the way he carried himself gave you the impression he was a man with power. That much was evident that night when you went clubbing. Still, he was surely an enigma with a strong charismatic aura around him. But this time you weren’t quite sure if it was merely his charisma and flowery language that made you blush or is he naturally suave with everyone?

“Don Giovanna? Were you waiting here all this time for me? Per favore, mi dispiace molto (please, I’m so sorry). Come into my office, we can talk inside.” an older man emerged from what looked like his office and interrupted your little conversation with Giorno. He wore a neat black suit and judging by his name tag, you can fairly make out he seemed to be the owner. Was this the man Giorno spoke of meeting with, signor Tocci? But why does he look so scared? The poor man was sweating like a sinner in church with beady eyes that didn’t dare to even blink, fearing if he blinked, it would mean the end of his life.

You were confused. Aren’t they friends?

“Tu sei perdonato (you are forgiven). I’ll be there shortly.” Giorno’s demeanour changed when he spoke to the signor. He’s always so light-hearted with you but ice-cold to others.

“I’ll go make you some tea!” signor Tocci frantically shouted and dashed out of the lobby.

Who on Earth was Giorno Giovanna? You asked this question to yourself before and were promptly reminded of the last time you were here in the lobby. You owed him an apology for mistaking and doubting his character! What better time than now? You’d be leaving the country in about a day anyways and would most likely never see him again.

“Giorno, I actually have an apology to make.”

The blonde was confused and waited for you to continue.

With a strong voice and straight posture, you spoke earnestly, “Actually, I thought poorly of you and was skeptical of your intentions. I guess I’m just a skeptical person in general, but after we went out for dinner together, I realized I was wrong and too quick to judge. Mi dispiace (I’m sorry). You’re a good man, Giorno.”

It was hard to tell what Giorno was thinking or feeling at this moment. His face remained blank and unreadable. But you got the sense he didn’t hate your little speech. You did speak from the heart, after all. His emerald eyes locked with yours before he began reaching his hand up to your face, softly brushing some loose strands of your hair and tucking it behind your ear. In a low but solemn voice, he spoke, “I hope you’ll continue to see me that way, y/n.”

Retracting his hand and placing it back to his side, he bid you farewell and motioned towards signor Tocci’s office, leaving you to question what his words meant.

[5-falsehoods-phonated]

You Don’t Own Me (You Don’t Even Know Me)

Chapter 1

Summary:  As the son of a Baron, Roman Sanders always knew that when he married, it would be due to a political arrangement rather than true love. Still, when he is sent away to marry an older, more powerful Earl, he is determined to make the best of his situation. Despite the Earl's indifference towards him, Roman forges ahead and prepares to become the best husband he can possibly be, making new friends along the way. But when his fiancé's demeanor turns from cold to cruel, Roman must shift all of his focus to survival, and find a way out of his marriage before it's too late.

Ships: Logince (Logan x Roman)  Moxiety (Virgil x Patton)

Content Warnings: arranged marriage, abuse, attempted sexual assault, murder, poisoning, character death, hurt/comfort, angst

Word Count: 2604

Read on AO3: here!

Cowritten with @ironwoman359 masterlist

False masterlist

As the son of the Baron of Falkirk, Roman Sanders always knew that when he married, it would be due to a political arrangement. There was a small part of him that mourned the loss of the chance to meet a beautiful stranger and fall hopelessly in love, like the characters in the fairytales that his nanny read to him as a child. But those fantasies were just that, fairytales. The fanciful whims of a child had no place in Roman’s life now that he had come of age. His marriage was to serve one purpose: to elevate his family. 

And Roman had been training for that purpose his entire life. 

Barely a month had passed since Roman’s twentieth birthday when he was called into his father’s study. He knew that whatever the reason for his summons, it must be important, as his father hated more than anything to be interrupted in his work. Roman knocked twice on the familiar, thick oak doors, and held his breath until he heard his father’s muffled answer from within. 

“Come in.” 

Roman stepped inside, and was surprised to see his mother and older brother already in the room, seated opposite his father’s old mahogany desk. As he entered, his father stood, gesturing to an empty chair that sat beside his mother. 

“Have a seat, son.” 

Roman sat. 

“I have good news,” his father continued. “As you have now reached the proper age, one of my primary interests has been to find an appropriate arrangement for your marriage.” 

Roman’s heartbeat quickened, and he forced himself to remain calm, folding his hands in his lap. This was it. This was the moment that he’d been preparing for nearly all of his life; the moment that would shape his entire future. 

“There were many factors to consider,” his father said, stepping around the desk to stand beside his wife. “It was not an easy decision. However, your mother and I have entered an agreement that we believe will be very profitable, for you and for the family.” 

Roman nodded. His father was a shrewd negotiator; he was sure that, whatever the terms of the engagement were, the Sanders family would not lose more than what it stood to gain. 

“So, you’ve reached a decision then, Father?” he asked, taking a deep breath and willing his expression to remain neutral.

“I have,” his father agreed. “You are to be wed to the Earl of Asberg, Lord Garret Howard. I have just received a message from his footman: they arrived at the Fireside Inn late this afternoon. Tomorrow, they will come to the manor to bring you to Lord Howard’s estate to begin the engagement period.” 

Roman bit back a gasp, his eyes growing wide. 

“Lord Howard?” he repeated. “I was not even aware the earl was looking for a suitor.” 

“For many years, he was not,” Roman’s mother spoke up. “His youth was spent primarily securing the political and financial status of his late father’s estate. Only recently has he turned his attention to more social matters.” 

“Your dowry aside, the connections we will gain through this marriage will be of an immense benefit to us,” said Roman’s father. “I know you know your duty son; I trust you will make us proud.” 

“I will, Father,” Roman said, getting to his feet. His father held out a hand, and Roman shook it firmly, doing his best to ignore the butterflies in his stomach. “Thank you.” 

His mother and brother stood as well, and Roman let his mother pull him into a quick hug and plant a kiss on his cheek. 

“Congratulations dear,” she said as she pulled away, a proud smile on her face. “I know you’ll do just wonderfully.” 

“Thank you, Mother,” he said, squeezing her hand, and then his brother was in front of him. 

“Congrats, Ro,” he said quietly. 

“Thanks, Remy,” Roman whispered, and when they shook hands, Roman hoped Remy didn’t notice the slight tremble in his grip. 

“The carriage will arrive at eight o’clock tomorrow morning,” Roman’s father declared. “I’ve already instructed the maids to pack your clothing. Whatever other preparations you need, I suggest you make them now.” 

“I will. Thank you, Father,” Roman said again, bowing his head slightly to his family.

He left the study, walking through the halls of the manor as though walking through a dream. He reached his quarters, and it was only after he shut the door behind him that he realized he very well might never walk the path from the study to his room again. He sat on the edge of his bed, his formal posture falling from his shoulders like a forgotten shawl now that he was alone. 

True to his father’s words, a trunk lay open at the foot of his bed, his shirts and trousers and suits all carefully folded and placed inside by the maid. Another, smaller trunk had been placed beside it, no doubt for Roman to fill with whatever else he wished to bring with him to his fiance’s estate. 

His fiance…

Sun, moon, and stars, he was engaged. It wasn’t as though he didn’t know it was coming; he was the youngest of his parents’ three children, after all. As the oldest son, Remington would inherit the title Baron of Falkirk and all the duties that came with it, while Roman and Remus would be married into other families to increase the Sanders’ political influence. So Roman had always known that he was destined to leave the family manor. 

That didn’t necessarily mean he was ready to. 

He sighed, sweeping his eyes around his room. What would he even take with him? A single evening was hardly enough time for him to consider all that he owned and decide what to bring on a permanent move halfway across the country. Should he bring his books, his star charts, his journals and quills? Or would he be able to find suitable replacements for them all at Lord Howard’s estate? Would he even have time to indulge in his hobbies as the husband of an earl? If only he’d had more than a day’s notice of his departure, then he’d have time to think!

A light knock on the door pulled Roman from his thoughts, and he straightened instantly. 

“Who is it?” he called. 

“It’s me, Roman,” came the answer, and Roman relaxed at the sound of his brother’s voice. 

“Come on in, Rem.” 

Remy stepped into the room, closing the door behind him and giving Roman what was probably meant to be a smile, but came out more like a grimace. 

“So, it’s finally time,” he said, and Roman rolled his eyes. 

“No need to sound like I’m on my deathbed, Remy. It’s just an engagement, we all knew this was coming.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Remy sighed, plopping down on the bed next to Roman and leaning back against the headboard. “Still...I had sort of hoped you’d end up somewhere decently close by. Gremont, for instance, I know Lady Lishan has a daughter who’s eligible. Or maybe Ravenhold. Then you could at least visit. Asberg is…” 

“Far,” Roman agreed. 

He’d been trying not to think about it. Asberg was at least four days away by carriage, maybe longer depending on the weather, and Roman had never been so far away from home unaccompanied in his life. 

“Hey though, the wedding’s only six months away. I’ll get to see you then! And who knows, maybe I’ll be able to come visit for the harvest festival next year...or you could come visit me!” 

“Only if you serve coffee,” Remy joked, and Roman laughed, the tension in the room easing just a bit. 

“Help me pack?” Roman asked. “I can’t figure out if I should bring everything or nothing.”

“Hmm…” Remy sat up and scanned the room. “My advice? Bring only what you think you can’t live without.”

Roman hesitated, then looked up at his brother. 

“You?” he suggested. He tried to shoot Remy a playful smirk, but he could feel the corners of his mouth wobbling, and he knew from the sad smile on his brother’s face that Remy didn’t buy it. 

“I wish, Ro-bro,” Remy said, nudging their shoulders together. “But I think one son running away from home is enough of a scandal for Father to deal with.”

“That’s fair, I suppose,” Roman said, looking down and fiddling with his fingers in his lap. “What...what do you think Remus would say? If he were here to see me off?”

“Honestly?” Remy looked up at the ceiling for a moment, then snorted. “He wouldn’t say anything, he’d just lock you in the bedroom and throw away the key to make you stay. Or kidnap you and hide you somewhere so that the wedding had to be cancelled altogether.” 

“You’re probably right,” Roman said. He chuckled, but the laugh felt hollow, like a piece of it was missing...gone forever and irreplaceable, just like his brother. “Did...did I ever tell you that he came to see me, the night he left?” he asked quietly. 

“No,” Remy answered. “But I had a feeling that he did.” 

“He asked me to go with him,” Roman said. “To leave you and Mother and Father and everything we’d ever known, to go chasing ‘freedom’ and ‘adventure,’ like we were children again.” He shook his head, closing his fingers into fists. “I told him I couldn’t.”

“I think he knew that,” Remy said. “But I...I also think he felt he had to at least ask you for himself. I don’t think he’d really believe that you wanted to stay unless he heard you say it.” 

“And I did want to stay,” Roman insisted. “I begged him to stay. But he wouldn’t listen, and he left, and now it’s been three years and I have to leave you and Mother and Father and everything I’ve ever known anyway, except now I’ll be alone.” Roman looked up at Remy, his eyes shining with un-shed tears. “What if...what if I made the wrong choice?” 

Remy pulled him closer, hooking his chin over Roman’s head like he did when they were small and Roman would trip in the garden and scrape his knee. 

“I can’t answer that for you, Ro-bro,” he murmured. “That’s something you have to figure out. But for what it’s worth...I’m glad you stayed. It- it would have been even harder, I think, to lose both of you.” 

“You’re losing me now,” Roman whispered, but Remy shook his head. 

“No,” he said vehemently. “I’m not. You said it yourself, Roman, the wedding’s only in six months. And Asberg may be far, but it’s not like it's across the ocean or anything. We’ll still be able to see each other once in a while. Remus…” Remy sighed, and tightened his grip around Roman’s shoulders. “Remus left us for himself. You’re leaving us for the family. That’s the difference.” 

“Yeah...I know,” Roman said, sniffling a little and nestling deeper into his brother’s hold. “I’m still gonna miss you though.” 

“I’ll miss you too, Ro-bro,” Remy said, dropping a kiss into Roman’s hair. “I’ll miss you too.”

Remy eventually left Roman to pack, and the rest of the night passed in a blur. Roman finally decided what to bring with him (his used notebooks and journals, his collection of star charts, and an old cloak that the maid hadn’t packed because it was torn, but that Roman couldn’t bear to part with) and what to leave behind (unused sketchbooks, his set of inks and quills, and the ancient paint set that he hadn’t touched in almost a year), but when he lay down to try and get some rest, sleep evaded him. He tossed and turned for what felt like hours, unable to stop his thoughts from racing. Morning arrived far too soon for his liking, and before he’d really processed what was happening, he was standing at the bottom of the front steps of the manor with his family, waiting for the carriage to arrive. 

"Now Roman, remember," his father said, and Roman looked up at him. "Lord Howard oversees an estate far larger than our own. Whatever duties you are expected to perform, they will be on a scale far greater than what you are accustomed to here."

"He may look to you to aid him in business, but he may also expect you to oversee more of the social obligations. He has dealings with many different families, after all," Roman's mother added, and Roman nodded.

"Politics is never just about numbers," he recited, and his father's lips twitched in a small smile.

"That's right, son. Remember all that we've taught you, and you'll do fine."

A carriage pulled in at the end of the manor's drive, and Roman took a deep breath.

"Remember to write!" his mother said, pressing a kiss to his cheek and giving his shoulder a squeeze. 

Roman placed a hand over hers, then shot Remy a lopsided smile.

"Any last words for me, Rem?"

Remy smirked, and ruffled Roman's hair.

"If you let Earlship go to your head, I’ll cut you out of the estate when I take over."

"Honestly, Remington," their mother said, rolling her eyes, and Remy winked at Roman.

The carriage reached them then, and Roman quickly moved to fix his hair. A footman hopped down from a seat on the rear, and bowed to Roman's father.

"Good morning," he said as he straightened. "I come on behalf of my Lord Garret Howard, Earl of Asberg, to deliver a dowry payment to Lord Phillip Sanders, Baron of Falkirk, and to collect his lordship's fiance, Lord Roman Sanders."

"Thank you, sir," said Roman's father, nodding to the footman. "Our family is honored by this union. May I present my son, Roman."

Roman inclined his head to the servant, who bowed again, quick and low.

"A pleasure, my lord. Allow me to gather your things."

Roman's luggage was loaded onto the back of the carriage, and Roman tried not to think about the large trunk that was unloaded and left at his father's feet. He hadn't been told the amount of his dowry, and he didn't want to know. For some reason, it made him feel strange to think about money being given to his family in return for his hand; it made it seem more like he'd been bought, when that wasn't the case! 

“Well,” he said when everything was ready to go. “I guess this is it.” 

“Safe journey, son,” his father said, laying a hand on his shoulder. “Make us proud.”

Roman swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded. He gave his family as strong a smile as he could muster, then he stepped into the carriage and the footman closed the door behind him. Roman drew the curtains back from the window and peered behind them as the carriage pulled away from his home. Remy and his mother were both waving, and even his father raised his hand briefly in farewell. Roman watched them grow smaller and smaller, and then the carriage turned out of the grounds and he couldn’t see them anymore. The manor that had been his entire world for the past twenty years shrank into the distance, until it was nothing but a speck on the horizon. 

Roman finally turned around so he was facing the direction the carriage was traveling. His father’s words echoed in his mind, and he took a deep breath. 

Don’t worry, father, he thought. I’ll make you proud. I’ll make our whole family proud.

First Previous Next

[adsdragonlover]

You Matter To Me

Coda to 15x19

Wc: 2k, Tags: fluff, pie, happy ending, first kiss

Also on ao3

It’s been three weeks since they won, but Dean still isn’t happy.

He’s been driving around the country, searching for something he knows he won’t find. The thing he wants that he knows he can’t have. He lost his chance.

Eventually, he ends up at a diner.

Lulu’s Pies, it says in softly glowing neon cursive above the building.

The bell above the door chimes as Dean pushes it open and steps inside. It’s pleasantly warm compared to the cold night outside, but Dean still feels cold. At least on the inside.

He heads to the bar and sits down on one of the stools.

With a cursory and habitual glance around the diner, he realizes he’s the only one here. At least the only customer.

That makes sense, he supposes. It’s barely 3 AM and the diner is plopped in the middle of bumfuck nowhere. The only other signs of life in the area are the long winding road outside and the shitty old gas station a few miles back.

To be honest, Dean doesn’t quite know why he came here. Maybe he needed a break from the drive.

He wanted to get some pie - the place was literally named for its pies - but that was mainly out of habit rather than actual desire. It’s been hard to want any of the things he used to enjoy, not since…

He cuts off that train of thought with a scowl to himself.

The waitress, a sweet looking woman with long, wavy, dark blonde hair and deep blue eyes approaches Dean from the other side of the bar. “What can I get for you, sugar?” she asks with a warm voice, rich with a soft southern accent. It reminds him, inexplicably, of his mother.

“I-“ Dean stops. “I don’t know,” he admits quietly.

The waitress, Jenna, according to her name tag, smiles sympathetically. “That’s alright,” she says sweetly. “It can be hard to know what you want, especially when you lose someone dear to you.”

Dean frowns. “How did you-” He begins.

Jenna smiles sadly at Dean. “There are some things a mother just knows, and heartbreak is one of them.” Her eyes are understanding, and painfully blue - too close to Castiel’s eyes for comfort. Dean looks away. “You look like you could use a slice of pie,” she says, handing him a paper dessert menu, specifically made for this week. “They’re all made from scratch, and made from the heart. Take all the time you need, honey. I’ll be back with a cup of coffee for you, it’s on the house.”

Jenna’s words soothe something raw and stinging inside Dean, and he offers her a small smile as she heads back into the kitchen.

He looks over the menu with a tired sigh. Not too long ago, Dean would’ve killed to eat here. All the pies sound awesome, and something about the waitress makes it very clear she puts effort into her pies.

Still, his heart isn’t really in it.

When Jenna comes back with a mug of coffee and a smile, Dean nods thankfully, but shakes his head when she asks if he’s ready to order. “I just- I need more time,” he says.

He isn’t just talking about the food. Not anymore.

Jenna nods. “Just give me a call when you’re ready, hun,” and then she’s gone.

Dean isn’t really sure how long he sits there, staring blankly at the dessert menu, coffee warming up one of his hands, his soul feeling achingly empty.

He's snapped out of his stupor by the sound of the bell above the door chiming to indicate someone else entering.

Dean’s eyes are glued to the menu still, reading the blurb under Heartbreak Pie. It's a black bottomed cherry pie, and the picture stops him.

He hears footsteps walk over, but he ignores them. They come closer until the stranger sits down on the stool to the right of Dean.

Dean feels irritation flash through him briefly, the diner is completely empty, and Dean’s positive he’s radiating “leave me alone” vibes, but for some reason the stranger decides to sit next to him anyway.

The irritation is gone as fast as it appeared however, Dean just doesn’t have the energy. Not anymore.

A couple days after they’d won, after Jack had left and Sam had reunited with a newly brought back Eileen, Dean had broken down in the bunker.

He’d lost it a little, had cried and cried and cried for days. Begging and pleading and praying. But Cas hadn’t come back.

Not long after, the sadness had turned to anger. Anger at Cas, for making the deal in the first place. For loving Dean so much it killed him. For telling him and then leaving before Dean could say it back. Anger at Jack, for dying and causing the deal, for becoming God and not bringing Cas back, for leaving Dean just like Cas had, just like Sam.

But mostly, Dean had been angry with himself. For not saying it back when Cas told him, for just standing there, for being the reason Cas died, for being too stubborn and too scared to say anything sooner, back when he’d had the chance. He was angry at himself for not being everything that Cas apparently thought he was.

Those few days were fueled entirely by anger in Dean’s opinion. He knew, deep down, that the anger was caused by love, but he didn’t want to think about that. Because if Cas was right, if he was right about Dean then there really wasn’t any good reason why Dean had never said anything.

Those few days were fueled entirely by anger. He knew, deep down, that the anger was caused by love, but he didn’t want to think about that. Because if Cas was right, if he was right about Dean then there really wasn’t any good reason why Dean had never said anything.

Nowadays though, Dean just felt numb. He drives around in Baby with the hopes of bringing something back into his life, but nothing helps.

He almost missed it, he was so lost in thought, and he barely caught the tail end of Jenna asking the stranger what she could “-get for you, dear?”

“I’ll have a slice of cherry pie,” came the low and gravelly voice, and Dean’s heart stopped, “and a slice of apple pie for my friend here,” Castiel finished.

Dean could barely hear Jenna’s acknowledgement and departure over the sudden ringing in his ears and the unavoidable bloom of hope in his chest.

He wants to look over, he does. He wants to see for himself if it really is Cas. Or if he's finally going crazy. But he can't move. He's frozen in his spot.

And then Cas’ hand comes to rest on Dean’s shoulder, right where his handprint had been, both as a scar that was no longer there, and as a bloody stain on a jacket Dean kept in the trunk of the impala for safekeeping. That movement, that touch, it was undeniably Castiel, and it forced Dean into action.

He turns his head, and looks his best friend in the eyes for the first time in what feels like forever.

And it's Castiel. Undoubtedly. He has the same messy hair, the same stubble, the same beautiful blue eyes, same dirty trench coat, the same stubbornly crooked blue tie.

“Cas?” Dean croaks, voice wobbling, painfully close to cracking.

Castiel smiles softly and the sight of it brings endless relief to Dean. And when Cas responds with, “Yes. Hello, Dean.” The relief doubles until it floods over Dean so completely his hands begin to shake.

“Cas,” he starts, voice trembling almost as much as his hands. “I- you- how-?”

“Oh look, our pie,” Cas says, cutting Dean off as their slices of pie are placed down in front of them.

“Cas, listen-” Dean begins quietly.

“Dean,” Cas interrupts. “We’ll have plenty of time to talk, I promise. Just eat your pie.”

And maybe, some other time, Dean would’ve been worried, would’ve been suspicious over Cas’ clear redirection. But he isn't. Because Castiel’s eyes are earnest and honest.

And Dean suddenly understands. Cas doesn't want to talk about it yet. He doesn't know how Dean is going to respond. He wants to have this first, just a quiet, peaceful moment.

So Dean nods, and begins to eat his pie.

It is really good pie, especially a regular apple pie, and it's probably the best apple pie he’d had in years. Mentally, Dean decides to give Jenna a large tip.

He’s halfway through eating his pie when he can’t do it anymore. Not with the way he could feel Cas watching him contentedly, fondly.

“Cas, listen, I-”

“It’s alright, Dean,” Cas says, cutting him off again, but Dean can’t be mad at it. He just needs to keep going.

“No,” he says sternly, looking stubbornly down at his half-eaten slice of pie. “No, it’s not Cas. It’s not alright, and I need to say this.”

He looks back up at Cas and waits for his response. When Cas nods in understanding, Dean takes a deep breath. He closes his eyes to steady himself briefly before opening them back up and looking Cas in the eyes. “Cas, I love you,” Dean says quietly. “You gotta know I love you too.”

Cas’ eyes widen slightly before his expression softens to something so fond it would probably make Dean uncomfortable had it been coming from anyone else. “I know,” he says with a smile that’s almost a grin.

“You kno-?” Then Dean gets it. “Oh you little shit,” he laughs. “You did not know, you don’t get to Han Solo me, you asshat,” Dean says with a wide grin.

Cas chuckles and the sound warms Dean up from the inside out. “My apologies, Dean. It seemed fitting and I figured you’d appreciate it.” Cas ducks his head slightly, avoiding eye contact, though he’s still smiling.

“Hey,” Dean says, and he reaches out and grabs Cas’ hand. “There’s no need to apologize, man.” Dean’s grinning too, and, distantly, he figures he should probably make an effort to stop calling Cas “man” and “buddy”, considering the fact that he’s in love with the stupid angel.

Cas’ smile widens and he looks back up, meeting Dean’s gaze as he turns his hand over and laces their fingers together almost hesitantly.

The flood of warmth the action brings Dean, as well as the hesitation in Cas’ eyes, brings Dean to squeeze their hands automatically, reassuringly.

All the hesitance in Cas’ expression melts away, and he practically beams at Dean. “You should finish your pie, Dean,” he suggests softly.

“So should you,” Dean points out.

Cas chuckles again and shakes his head. “It only tastes like molecules to me. I’ll get a to-go box for it and you can finish it for me later,” he says, and the ‘later’ in that sentence fills Dean with joy.

They aren’t over. There’s going to be a “later” for the two of them.

He grins at Cas and squeezes his hand before turning back to his delicious pie.

It’s after he finishes it that he gets an idea, and he grins. “Hey Cas, you wanna taste it? It’s pretty good.”

Castiel frowns and does his confused little head tilt that Dean has always secretly found unbearably cute. He realizes, suddenly, that he doesn’t have to keep that a secret anymore, and the thought makes him smile.

“Dean, I don’t understand,” Cas says slowly, “there isn’t any pie le-” and then the look on Dean’s face must sink in, because he cuts off with a slowly growing and a little shy smile. “...yes,” he says finally. “I would like a taste.”

“Good,” Dean says, and then he reaches over with both hands, wrapping one around Cas’ arm and cupping the back of his neck with the other as he pulls his angel into a kiss.

Castiel melts into it, and Dean feels a little like he’s glowing from the inside out, he’s so happy.

When they pull away, Dean is still grinning. “Well?” he says. “Did you like the taste?”

Cas is wearing a matching grin. “Hmmm,” he says with mock thoughtfulness. “I’m not sure, I think we should do it again, so I can have another taste.”

God, Dean is in love.

They meet again in the middle for another kiss.

Dean’s face almost hurts from smiling so much after such a long time of not smiling at all. And he knows, as they hold each other close in the pie diner, that they have the rest of their lives to spend together.

And Dean is happy.

Tag list! Ask to be added or removed!

@dreamnovak @tearsofgrace @bluebell-24 @rambleoncas

[mae-gi-writes]

Plus One | Kevin Moon (Around The World Collab)

When your boyfriend of eight years suddenly decides to break up with you right before your destined trip for your cousin’s wedding, nothing can cure your broken heart. In a desperate attempt to make you feel better, Kevin states that he will be your plus one.

Genre: little angst, fluff, friends to lovers. 

This fic is part of a collab “Around The World”, featuring different countries x the boyz members. I had the utmost pleasure of working with such an amazing group of talented writers for this project, so please don’t forget to check out their works too! ^^ <3 

This fic is takes place on Mauritius Island. 

Word count: 9k IZ A LONG ONE SO BUCKLE UP BUTTERCUPS

Tagging: @aniyawoos​ @chaoticdeobi​ @moondustaeil​ @juyeonzz​ @atbzkingdom​ @2hyunjae​ @jopping-to-my-kpop @jeongsinkookie @ihearttbz​ @heartyyjeno​ @bahnmi07 @sadlandia​ @itsquxxn​

-----------

Eight years, gone just like that. 

I stare at a spot on my navy blue suitcase, not really focused on what’s before me and more concerned about the memories flickering past  my lids. I can’t help it. Everytime I see luggage, it makes me think of the way I kicked him out of my life. Everytime, a slab of pain will grab my heart between its icy fingers and squeeze it so that I can barely breathe. Everytime, until I feel like I’m drowning inside dark waters without the real desire to swim to the surface. 

My psychiatrist told me that it had been for the better. That it had been an obsessive, unhealthy kind of love in the first place. But was it better now that I couldn’t even feel my heart in the hollow space where it’s supposed to be? 

“Y/N.” 

Still, I remember the messages on his phone, the way his touch would feel strange, eerily hollow for some reason, the way he’d avoid my eyes whenever he’d tell me that he was going out with the guys. I remember smelling his coat and recoiling at the cheap scent of perfume clinging to it like second skin, how he’d constantly tell me how wonderful I was-- too wonderful for him -- and that I should find better, that I didn’t deserve someone like him.

And then, when I’d stumbled into our flat a little earlier than I was meant to -- since my gym class had been cancelled -- and took note of the trail of shoes, followed by a coat, a shirt, a thong, before my ears picked up on the noises echoing from the bedroom doors…

“Y/N?” 

His face when he spotted me, the astounded expression like a dog that had just been caught sneaking into the pantry. And the girl, a prettier woman, a curvy woman, with red lips and with those beautifully deep red wine locks tumbling down her back with the perfect physique that could make any man drool. That girl, who was none other than one of my good friends at work and who had spent most part of the year listening to my rants about him. 

“Y/N!”

“Huh?” My head whips up when I register my name being called out, looking up to see a raven-haired, petite-faced man leaning against the bedroom doorway with raised brows and a concerned expression on his face. 

“Oh, you’re here,” I say, as he crosses the doorway and sits beside me. The bed dips down under his weight as he tilts his head in that knowing manner of his, “daydreaming again?” 

“No,” I mumble, but he sees right through my facade and with a sigh, his arms wrap around my shoulder before pillowing his head against my shoulder. 

“It’s going to be okay,” he murmurs as I allow myself to lean back against him, against his comfort. His lavender scent wraps around me, a little bed of comfort amidst all the pain. 

“I can’t stop thinking about him,” I murmur, tears stinging the corner of my eyes, “it hurts, Kev.” 

He only holds me a little closer, a little tighter.

If there is one person that I can trust more than myself, it’s Kevin Moon. I’ve known Kevin ever since high school, having hung out in the same friend group until we had become partners for an art project. It was only then that we’d become closer, and had been close ever since. With his angular features and almond mono lidded eyes and thin lips that were constantly shaped in a pout, the Korean-born man had moved to Canada when he was young, just like I had a few years ago. He had kept me afloat during my university days, I had comforted him through his first break up. He had been present during my final Fine Arts Photography Exhibition, I was up all night coming up with re-branding concepts for his design project. Overall, Kevin had pretty much been a constant in my life, you get the gist of it.

When he found out that my boyfriend had cheated just a few days before our destined trip to attend my cousin’s wedding -- mind you, I had been sobbing waterfalls and it was a miracle he even understood me through my blubbering mess -- he had half a mind to storm up to the guy and rip his throat out. But he did the most surprising thing; booked a ticket for himself and turned up at my flat on the eve of the departure, stating that he was going to accompany me to that wedding, whether I liked it or not.

My cousin, Emma, was getting married right where home was: Mauritius. The memories I once had of the small island nestled right in the Indian Ocean on the right of Madagascar, was of my grandma’s comforting food, the sea scented air that washed along with the too-white sandy beaches, the multitudes of merchants selling all kinds of fresh fruits and vegetables on the side of the road, and small corner stores that looked like they had come out of a 1960’s movie. People liked to claim that Mauritius was paradise on earth, and in a way, it is.

“Come on,” Kevin had nagged when I shook my head adamantly. He’d wriggled his plane ticket before my nose, “you’re not going to let that loser spoil such a happy event are you? Emma’s waiting for you!” 

In the end, he’d won. Which is why we are here, staying at my cousin, Emma’s, apartment in a village called Moka, located at the foot of a mountain and has an abundance of forestry adorning the sides of the road. It's chilly here, in comparison to the harbourfront, and constantly smells like fresh rain and has a gentle fresh breeze blowing through.

“You know, assholes like him are not worth thinking about,” Kevin says now, his arm a gentle soothing caress up and down my back, “your brain might rot.” 

I can’t help but let out a soft, choked up laugh.

“It’s our first day here, let’s not ruin it by thinking about him, hm?” Kevin continues soothingly and I nod in agreement. He’s right. I’m just wasting time by reliving memories that I should be banishing from my mind. 

“Okay!” he brightens up then, “where shall we go? The sea? The market? Or do you want to go eat?!” 

--------------

The first few days are about meeting up with family and rediscovering Mauritius for what it is. Emma gives me a full-fledged hug the moment I open the door to her house, pressing me close to her with such motherly warmth that it takes everything in me not to break down right then and there. I greet my uncles and engage in small-talk with my aunts, help my grandma out in the kitchen as she continuously asks me why I’ve gotten so thin. While I know the main reason, I decide to smile and spare her the details, as embarrassing as it is. 

No one mentions him, until one of my uncles slips during a conversation with Kevin, “so you’re Y/N’s boyfriend. Such a pleasure to meet you! We’ve heard so much about you that we started thinking she was just making things up.” 

“Er--” Kevin reddens, “I--” 

“So how did you two meet?”

It is at this very instant that my mouth decides to move on its own and I blurt out, “we’re high school friends.” 

“Oh highschool sweethearts! How cute!” 

Kevin doesn’t fail to mention what a mistake I’ve made to lie to my entire family to save face.

“I feel guilty,” he says as we walk out to the car, keys dangling from my wrist. 

I unlock the car, “it’s fine. We’ll be in and out before they know it. They don’t have to know anything.” 

“Hm, sure.” 

After some well-deserved family time, Kevin and I decide to head to the west of the island to catch the sunset, my camera stuffed neatly in the backseat, where Kevin has tossed a few spare towels just in case. We each have donned our swimsuits for the occasion and it doesn’t take an expert to see the excitement thrumming through Kevin’s veins as he sits beside me like an excited child in the passenger seat. 

“I never realized that you guys drive on the left side of the road,” he comments, head whipping back and forth in-between the passage of cars. 

“Yeah, it takes some getting used to, especially if you’re crossing,” it is then that I notice that there is a newly built mall as we turn left at the green light, “hey, that’s new. I’ve never seen this before.” 

“Cas-ca-velle,” he mumbles out with that strong accent of his. He is definitely not one to know French and I’ve been acting as his translator all along, considering that my family speaks French at home, “what does that mean?” 

“Beats me. It’s just a fancy name for a new shopping mall,” I peer into its parking lot, “wanna visit?” 

“Whatever floats your boat, honey. I’m all in.”

The mall is longer than it is wide, with white archways decked with wooden-style roofs that give way to an open-plan exterior. A wide beige cemented pathway occupies the space, with shops lined on either side. 

“I never realized, but you guys are very multicultural,” comments Kevin as we pass by another family of four chattering quickly in a mixture of French and Creole. 

“We’re similar to Canada that way.” 

“Do you miss it here?” 

My eyes glance over at him, notice the soft empathy in his expression.

“I guess I do sometimes,” I say while I kick at a stray pebble, “It’s like homesickness. But in a way I can’t quite explain,” after a moment, I ask, “do you miss Korea?”

“The food, mostly,” he grins bashfully, “my halmeoni makes a killer gamja tang.” 

“Let’s go visit her one day.”

“Is that a promise?” he asks as I shrug, “if you want it to be.” 

It’s a little past six when we drive up to the Flic En Flac beach and as we gather our things, my eyes light up upon falling on a nearby roti stand. I quickly slap Kevin’s arm in my bout of excitement. 

“Ouch! What? What is it?” 

“Kevin, you’re not going to believe this,” I point at the stand in question, “this roti stand? It’s the best roti in Mauritius. Here, take this,” I don’t wait before shoving my bag and camera in his arms, “I’m gonna buy us some. You go and find us a spot on the beach.” 

“But--” 

I don’t wait for him to finish his sentence before taking off, greeting the merchant who is just about to be wrapping up to ask whether I can get two rotis with ‘cari saumon’ (roughly translated into salmon curry mixed with indian spices), local and freshly made. The smell wafts through the folded paper wrappers as I grab them. They smell just like my childhood, where everything had just been as easy as having rotis by the beach without a care about the future that is to come. It’s nostalgic and I can’t help the smile tugging up my mouth at the thought. 

Kevin is already settled atop a pair of spare towels and looks up at the sound of my footsteps approaching. I pass him one of the paper wrappers and he takes a peek, confusion flitting across his face. 

“This smells spicy,” he mutters loudly enough for me to hear, “it looks like naan bread.” 

“It is,” I agree, “except it’s flatter and more like a crepe.” 

Throwing me a hesitant glance, he takes a small bite. I watch his face go from confused to impressed in a few seconds, before his eyes whip up to mine, “woah, this is good.” 

“Told you so.” 

“But this is really, really good,” he can’t help but marvel at it and laughing, I proceed to dig into my own roti, allowing my mouth to be filled with that salty fish taste melting along my tastebuds, the curry spices giving it the nice tangy kick you wouldn’t find anywhere else. The roti is soft and practically melts on my tongue and I can’t help but moan at how good it is. 

“God, this is everything I’ve been looking for my whole life,” I find myself telling him, wrapped up in momentary bliss, “this, this is everything.” 

I can feel his eyes on me, so intense that my own flicker up in question. He drops his gaze the moment I do and I frown, confused. 

“What?” I can’t help but ask, wondering why he suddenly seems so meek, so shy and awkward, “what is it?” 

“Nothing,” he replies like he’s trying to be casual, except that it’s anything but. When he gazes back at me, I notice the warmth in his maroon eyes, more the color of caramel in the dim light from the sunset basking his profile in a golden glow, “I think--I think that’s the first time I’ve seen you so happy, since...” 

He doesn’t need to continue, for I know where this is going. Indeed, this is the first time in many months that I haven’t paid any attention to the hole inside my heart. 

And it feels good.

“Yeah,” I murmur as I watch the sun settle on the ocean’s horizon, fire kissing water, “I don’t know, I just feel like this is nice. Like it’s right.” 

I spare him a glance from the corner of my peripheral and watch him shift. His sleeveless shirt slips, allowing me a glimpse of the naked skin underneath. I quickly look away, slightly embarrassed at the notion of even thinking of him in such a way. 

“That’s how you should be, Y/N,” Kevin murmurs back just as softly. It’s almost like talking too loudly will break the sudden spell that has settled over our shoulders. He takes a sip of his beer before continuing, “you’ve suffered enough for someone who deserves nothing but shit for what he’s done.” 

There’s a small pause as I digest his words. Then, I manage to murmur out, “thanks, Kevin.” 

“No problem.” 

Another small bout of silence ensues, covered up by the sound of the ocean roaring up the sand, distant birds chirping in the fading light of the sunset drowning into the now orange-flecked waters. 

“Hey Y/N.” 

I glance at him. He’s gorgeous, even more so somehow. Maybe it’s the time of the day, maybe it’s the mood, or maybe it’s the way my heart can’t help but be swallowed in gratefulness whenever I look at him.

“What?” I ask.

“Do you know water has memory?” 

I choke on my beer, “do not-- and I mean this-- do not quote Frozen with me.” 

“Huh, I tried.” 

---------------------------

“So, Kevin huh?” 

My eyes shoot up to meet Emma’s in her crusty-dust-filled mirror, presently lounging on her bed and flipping through a book as I had been trying on my bridesmaid gown. Kevin is downstairs, helping out with the barbeque grill with the rest of the family, and it is only now that I get to have some alone time with the woman I consider my sister. 

She’s the only one that knew the exact details of my breakup, and that Kevin is only a mere replacement to cover my humiliated ass. I remember her trying to calm me down when I had called in a frenzy, practically hyperventilating because of the amount of pain that gripped at my heart and was choking me of all air. 

I revert my eyes back to the dress, a baby blue as bright as a summer sky, and smooth my hands down my sides, “he’s been so good to me, ever since…” I can’t finish the sentence, voice already wobbling at the thought that comes with it.

“Hey,” Emma’s murmur causes me to look up, and in her eyes I see a flicker of understanding, “he’s not worth it.” 

“I know,” I swallow back the tears crawling up my throat, “I know, it’s just--a hard pill to swallow.”

A hand comes to a rest at my elbow, before my cousin tucks her chin atop my shoulder, “it’ll be alright, Y/N. He doesn’t deserve you." 

I nod. Then, just to change the subject so that I don’t break down in her arms, I gesture towards the dress, “so? How does it look?” 

Emma tugs at some pieces here and there, rearranging the fabric as she sees fit, “I think it looks good. You look gorgeous. Kevin will swoon, for sure.” 

“It’s not like that,” I hurriedly say as I strip out of the dress and put it back on its hanger, “we’re just friends.” 

“Mhm,” she throws me a pointed look, a mischievous smile tugging at the corner of her lips, “'just friends' doesn't feel right..” 

“Emma, really? Right after my breakup?” 

“He came to Mauritius just for you Y/N,” she squeezes my shoulders comfortingly, “doesn’t that count for something?” 

“Well, we’ve been friends since high school so…”

“I don’t think just any friend in high school would do such a thing if I asked,” Emma catches my eye in the mirror, her gaze deep and meaningful, “just think about that.” 

I just nod in hopes that she’ll stop yapping away at my nonexistent relationship with Kevin, whatever that means. The hole in my heart is still so raw and filled with pain that I can’t even start thinking about another relationship. The thought alone is enough to drain me of all energy and I decide to brush it off for now as I follow Emma out in the backyard now filled with familiar chatter and the smell of cooked meat wafting through the air, with the sky bruising a soft purple to signal the end of a long summer day. 

Catching sight of Kevin as I bring out one of the many salad bowls that my family has prepared, my lips can’t help but twitch into a slow smile when I see him by the grill, whipping away the multitudes of flies zipping back and forth as my other cousin deftly flips the sausages upside down with a trained rhythm that only years of experience can bring. 

“Kevin! You’re not doing your job right!” my cousin cries playfully. Kevin attempts to flap the newspaper around while screeching, “oh god, my eyes are burning!"

“Someone bring more meat!” My cousin hollers. 

“There’s more?!” 

“He’s doing a great job,” my grandmother’s voice brings my attention back to the salad bowl in my hands, and I quickly bend to kiss her cheek as she continues, “better than any of your other cousins. They never help out.” 

“That’s because you pamper them too much, grandma,” I grin at her and follow her to the dining table where my aunts are already settling down amongst themselves. 

The evening passes by with good food and good company, the sky darkening and dotting with a veil of stars that has Kevin gawking in awe. I'm not surprised, you don't see skies like that anywhere, a sky that isn't so intoxicated with modern chemicals. My uncles take it upon themselves to introduce Kevin to all the types of Mauritian delicacies, such as chickpea fritters we call 'gato pima', small balls of graped choko vegetable and minced pork 'niouk yen', and to top it all off, a plate of cornmeal pudding also known as 'pudine mai' that makes Kevin's eyes go wide with surprise.

"This is dessert?" He holds it up in his hand, "with ...cornmeal?"

"Sure is," one of my aunts chime in with a smile, "made it just this morning."

It's past midnight when we get back to our little apartment with Emma's dress hanging off my arms, which Kevin doesn't hesitate to grab from my hold despite my protests. 

"It's fine dude," he flashes me a quick smile, albeit tired, and my heart does this weird little squeeze in my chest at his thoughtfulness. 

He's kind. Too kind. I really don't deserve someone like him. 

"I'm sorry," I say as we settle onto the small couch, shoulders fitted snugly against each other, "my family is kinda overwhelming."

"No no," Kevin looks over, edges of his lips curled up, "I actually love your family, you know."

My chest warms, "thanks."

There is a moment of silence that we enjoy, the day's events sinking into my bones. 

"Hey," he murmurs.

"Hm?"

My eyes slide over to catch his, dark pools glimmering with a certain softness that catches my attention. 

I bite my lip. It suddenly feels a little warm.

"What is it?" I ask, voice hoarse.

"Is oreo a sandwich?" 

I sit up so suddenly that I jostle him, "wait--what?"

He grins up at me with that little nose scrunch that I can't help but find endearing, "is oreo a sandwich?" I open my mouth to answer but he beats me to it, "is cereal a soup?"

"Stop."

Reclining back to lace his hands at the back of his head, he says, "is ketchup a smoothie?" 

"Stop it."

"What about hotdogs? Are they sandwiches?" He continues in a singsong voice and rolling my eyes, I make a move to punch him once more. But he's faster, hand shooting out to hold my wrists. He pulls me over and I stumble, knee pressing against the side of his leg. 

"Come on. Answer it," he wriggles his eyebrows.

"Nope."

“Don’t be a party pooper.” 

“You’re so annoying.” 

"Are you sick of me yet?" His face is so close that I notice the creases at the corner of his eyes when he smiles.

"That's an understatement."

"But really, do you think oreo is a sandwich?"

"No! Oreos are just oreos!"

“You’re no fun,” He pouts before finally releasing his hold. I draw back with a roll of my eyes, settling beside him once more and pillowing my head onto his shoulder.

Emma’s right. Kevin had sacrificed so much to be here with me, and he doesn’t even know Emma. Yet, he immediately dropped everything so that he could be my plus one, so that I wouldn’t have to face the music alone. The thought makes my heart swell with emotion and suddenly I’m all too aware of his presence beside me. 

I shift to gaze at him, eyes tracing the curve of his nose, the indent above his lips before I whisper, “hey Kevin.” 

“Hm?” 

“Why’d you come?” 

His eyes flicker over to mine then. A heartbeat passes. For a moment, I wonder if he can hear my heartbeat suddenly throbbing a little too loudly in my chest. 

“Good question.” 

Another pause. 

“That’s not an answer,” I laugh slightly, to show that it’s all just fun and games.

But when I catch his eyes next, there’s something else brimming in them. They’re tender with emotion and it catches me so off guard that I almost don’t catch his next set of words:

“Because I care about you.” 

My heart gives a quick lurch but I somehow can’t tear my gaze away. I want to say something. Anything. 

But all I can muster is a soft, “oh.” 

“Why do you ask?” he asks, voice hoarse.

I hesitate, “Emma asked why. And...I guess I wanted to know too.” 

“Oh.” 

The air feels heavy, heightened with the things that are threatening to slip off the edge of my tongue. A mixed series of ‘but why’s and ‘can’t you tell me more’ jumbling up my thoughts with so many possibilities that I decide to stay quiet for the sake of not ruining the moment. Because there’s this lingering fear that once I do say something, then it’ll just pull me down a rabbit hole that I can’t crawl out of, that the only escape lies on the other side.

And I don’t know if I want to take that leap yet. My heart is already so fragile with the aftermath of a love that went wrong. I don’t know how much more I can take. 

So I just stay quiet and let out a soft sigh, and though Kevin shifts as if he wants to say something, he doesn’t. The question just hangs there between us, in-between the slithers of moonlight and in the cold Moka air, like a perpetual ghost we ignore as we drift off to sleep.

----------

Something shifts between us after that. It’s unspoken of, but suddenly, I am all too aware of Kevin as a whole. Things that I hadn’t noticed before surface as we spend most of our free time visiting the rest of the island; like how he loves ruffling his hair whenever he feels uncomfortable, or the way his bicep curls as his arm drapes over the wheel with the barest hint of muscle that is enough to be attractive yet subtle, or how he smirks in that attractive way of his whenever he thinks something is undeniably adorable. 

The good thing about having Kevin is that I don’t get to think of him all too much, which is a blessing in itself. It’s been days since I’ve shed another tear and for that, I have to say I’m glad that I’m making progress.

We spent the last few days before the wedding traveling around the island to visit all the touristy spots that I know Kevin will enjoy, like a hike all the way to the top of Le Morne mountain, where I explain that’s where slaves would throw themselves off when their masters would find them. We visited Bois Cheri, a tea-making factory where Kevin had the pleasure of tasting all different kinds of teas cultivated in the fields below, and ate lunch on the Caudan Waterfront as we gazed at the boats lulling along the harbour. 

“Woah, this place makes me feel like I’m in Aladdin somehow,” Kevin’s mouth is wide agape as his eyes try to take in the endless racks of stands selling fresh fruits and vegetables of the day. The Port-Louis Bazaar has always been one of my favourite places to visit, but it’s also one of the busiest. Even now as we attempt to squeeze our way through, people are jostling us here and there, causing me to press my bag to my chest in case any pickpockets are nearby. I prompt Kevin to do the same. 

“Hey Y/N, I wanna check out the bags over there,” Kevin motions towards the hand-woven baskets situated at the far end of the market and I nod as we keep moving forward with the crowd like a pair of salmons trying to swim upstream. But there’s so many people, it’s so suffocating that it gets hard to keep up with Kevin’s figure. Someone elbows my shoulder and I groan, stumbling to the side in irritation, only to get pushed forward by another. 

“Seriously--” I curse under my breath, when a hand suddenly appears before my eyes.

Looking up to see Kevin’s outstretched arm, I am only greeted with his bashful smile and averted eyes. 

“Come on,” he doesn’t even wait for my consent before slipping his palm over my own and tugging me along, his hold firm and strong despite his skinny frame and the action is enough to render a flurry of butterflies soaring over my stomach. 

Stop, I try telling my subconscious. That does nothing, however, to stop my neck from tingling with unfamiliar heat. 

Kevin’s hand feels so warm. It’s comfortable, safe. 

And I’m liking it a little too much.

He doesn’t let go when we reach the desired stand and talk over which bag looks the best and keeps his hand in mine for the entirety of our journey back to the car. Only when I unlock the doors that his palm finally drops from my hold and air rushes over my palm that is now a little too cold without his warmth. But while a multitude of questions are burning the back of my throat, they fall apart halfway through at the thought of his answer, before I decide to drop it altogether. 

Kevin, on the other hand, doesn’t seem the least bit affected. 

When the day of the wedding finally rolls around, I drive my car to Emma’s after a quick breakfast that Kevin surprised me with -- to my surprise, he’d managed to make a decent eggs and toast without burning the place down -- so that I can help her get into her gown and more importantly so that she doesn’t run away, lest her mind goes in a frenzy at the thought of tying the knot. 

“You’ll be fine,” I reassure her, teasing a few of her curls so that they slip down to her chest in a perfect wave. She looks stunningly beautiful, with her strapless white dress that shimmers with diamonds in the light with every movement she makes. 

I reach out to smooth over her veil so that it falls on either side of her face, frames her perfectly, and notice her big brown eyes staring back at me through her vanity mirror. 

“You look beautiful,” I can’t keep the awe from my voice. 

Her face blossoms into a smile, “you too.” 

“Ah come on, you can’t say that to me on your wedding day,” I shove her playfully on the shoulder, “you’re the star of the show. Don’t let anyone take that away from you.” 

“Okay mom,” she rolls her eyes before changing the subject, “So, how have things been? With Kevin?” My hands freeze in mid-action, “It’s good.” 

I don’t have to look at her to know that she’s giving me a pointed look.

I sigh, “well, okay. Maybe you’re right. About the whole…’just friends’ thing not being true.” 

“Why?” she straightens up, turns to me, “what happened? Did you kiss? Did he make a move--” 

“No we didn’t kiss,” I’m quick to answer as my cheeks heat up. And after a few beats of hesitation, I give her a summary; the way he’d looked at me that night with eyes that held so much in them that it had made my chest swell, the way that he’d snitch glances at me whenever he thought I wasn’t paying attention, and the fact that he’d grabbed my hand and didn’t let go even long after the crowd wasn’t an issue anymore. 

Emma’s eyes are wide and sparkling with a feeling that I know all too well, I can practically see the cogs turning in her head and quickly shook mine in rapid retaliation, “Emma, no.” 

“But--But he’s perfect for you!” she bellows in protest, “What do you mean ‘no’?!” 

“I can’t go there. Not after,...not now, it’s too soon…” 

She rolls her eyes, “it’s not like he’s asking you to marry him, christ’s sake. He likes you, and I feel like you’re only trying to deprive yourself because you feel like it’s not right.” 

“It’s not right--”

“Who says so?” she cuts me off then, her gaze hardening on mine with such intensity it takes everything in me not to flinch back, “who says it’s not right? It doesn’t matter if it’s after two days, two weeks, two months. You think I don’t know how it feels to be heartbroken? You can’t just keep thinking about the past. You’re going to hurt yourself that way.” 

My teeth sink down onto my lower lip, her words like ice-cold knives aimed straight at my chest. 

“What you can control, right now, is the present, Y/N.” 

“I know,” I mumble out half-heartedly.

“I can see it, you know, the way he looks at you,” she shakes her head, “even if you don’t like him back, you gotta be aware of all that he’s done for you.” 

Her hands find their way to mine, enclosing them in her grasp before squeezing them with such care that I can’t stop the tears crawling up the back of my throat. 

“I’m sorry,” she murmurs next, “I don’t want to pressure you if that’s not how you feel. That--That was not my intention,” her eyes latch onto mine, filled with understanding, “I just want you to be happy.” 

Happy. 

That’s a word I haven’t heard in a long time. 

“Don’t you dare cry now,” Emma says while waving her hands around in warning, “you’re going to ruin your makeup and we definitely don’t want that.” 

I sniffle, trying my best to hold in the tears now brimming through my eyes, “you’re right,” I attempt to smile, albeit it’s wobbly, “we don’t.” 

“Come here,” she tugs my arm so that I fall into her embrace. Her head finds her way to my shoulder and she hugs me tight, not caring that her veil is getting all bunched up and wrinkled, “you’ll be okay,” she whispers, one hand stroking my back, “you’ll be just fine, little one.” 

Then, pulling back and pushing a few strands away from my face, she flashes a bright smile, “we should probably head to the church soon.” 

----------

“We now declare you, Vincent and Emma, as husband and wife.” 

The church explodes in a round of applause and I join in the clapping, furiously trying to keep the tears of joy at bay. Vincent has been there for Emma ever since they met at work and it has been the most beautiful love story ever since; filled with the purest kind of love no one can imagine. Beside me, I feel Kevin’s hand coming to squeeze my shoulder in a reassuring manner and I feel warm all over despite the rush of emotion in my heart. 

The wedding reception is to take place at a fancy restaurant overlooking the harbourfront. Our family has booked the venue for the evening, and as I enter, I take in the baby blue veils that come down each corner of the restaurant, sprinkles of glitter here and there as we make our way to our assigned tables that each have a baby blue napkin shaped in swans. 

I don’t even have time to place my butt down when I hear a voice call out, “Y/N! Look how big you’ve gotten!” 

Of course, big wedding ceremonies only mean that we get to meet all of our extended family that we haven’t seen since forever, and they’re all too happy to chat with me about living overseas. Soon enough, I’m bustled off to a table and look back over my shoulder to mouth a quick “I’m sorry” to Kevin. Bless his soul, for he only smiles and shakes his head, his hand motioning for me to go on.

I manage to catch up with cousins I haven’t seen since I was a little girl, talk over appetizers with excited aunts who want to know all about how it feels like to live away from family for such a long time, and nod along to the old uncles trying to get me to give a concrete answer about when and where will my wedding take place. 

“Come on Y/N! You’re the next one after Emma for sure,” one of my uncles bellow, face flushed red as a result of the glasses of wine he has downed like water. He is Emma’s father, no surprise that he’ll want to get drunk from happiness and pride. It is his daughter’s wedding after all. 

He leans close with a conspiratorial look in his eyes, “so tell me,” his eyes glance over to Kevin, currently deep in conversation with another one of my distant aunts. I watch as he says something to make her laugh, and something inside my chest warms at the action, “is he the lucky guy that’s going to ask for your hand?” 

“Do you think he’s the one?” another uncle pipes up. 

I purse my lips and attempt to shrug, “it’s early days,” I try laughing it off although it sounds forced, “who knows what can happen.” 

“He’s a good kid,” an aunt says, “you know how we all have this sixth sense? Well Y/N, I have a good feeling about this young man. Don’t let him go. Something tells me he’s a keeper.” 

A wild imaginative speculation, considering that we’re not even dating. But I nod along and say that yes, I’ll tell them whenever I decide to tie the knot.

It’s only when the dance floor opens and people start pooling onto the dance floor after the first dance -- led by no other than the bride and groom themselves -- that I finally allow myself to breathe. I find my way back to my chair, back to Kevin’s warm smile flashing in my direction as his eyes take in the fatigue lining my face. 

“You look like you could use a drink,” is the first thing he tells me the moment I plop my butt onto my designed seat, the one that’s been kept cold ever since I stepped foot into the dining hall. 

I gratefully accept the glass of wine he offers me, swallowing it down in a few gulps, “thanks,” I sigh with relief, “I needed that.” 

“How was catching up with family?” 

“It couldn’t be as bad as being left behind,” I peer over at him, guilt flooding me at the prospect of having left him all alone, “sorry. It’s just that everyone--” 

“Oh stop that,” Kevin nudges my shoulder with his, “don’t be sorry. It’s totally normal. I’m happy for you. And I wasn’t left behind. I had a wonderful time talking to your aunt. She seemed so happy to tell me what your childhood was like.”

“Bet you liked that, didn’t you?” 

“Hey, it works as blackmail. Why wouldn’t I like that?” 

“Dork.” 

“You’re friends with this dork.” 

“Oh piss off,” I slap his shoulder playfully in retaliation, causing him to laugh softly as we watch couples glide across the dance floor like swans over water. The lights have dimmed, the yellow hues now replaced by soft cool blues and purples that cause Emma’s dress to shimmer every time she turns. She’s absolutely stunningly beautiful, and the way she and Vincent are gazing at each other just scream of pure love that wraps around them in a golden mist so enchantingly beautiful that I find myself catching my breath in the back of my throat. 

“She’s so beautiful,” the words fall from my mouth without meaning to, and I feel Kevin’s eyes on my face from the corner of my peripheral.

“You are too.” 

I bite my lip and narrow my eyes at him playfully, “thanks, but why do I have a feeling that this isn’t a compliment?” 

“It isn’t,” he holds my gaze, “it’s just the truth.” 

Emotion lodges at the back of my throat. I stare at him. He stares back, a glimmer of tenderness echoing through the dark pools of black, his whole expression relaxed into a face that appears flooded with affection for--

Me. 

For some reason, no words seem to come to me as I open my mouth and close it. Embarrassment slowly bubbles through my stomach. I look away, unable to contain the goosebumps suddenly exploding across the back of my neck with that same familiar uncomfortable sensation I keep getting around him these days. Like I’m standing atop a cliff and preparing myself to jump.

“Wanna dance?” 

I blink in surprise, before turning to the said young man beside me who has his head cocked to the side with that same expression. My heart can’t help but squeeze inside my chest before I push down the rising protest searing through my brain. 

I nod. And off we go onto the dance floor. His hands settle on my waist, mine atop his shoulders in a casual sling. There’s enough distance between our bodies to show that we’re not together and yet, I can’t deny that electrical tension that keeps on pulling me towards Kevin like a magnet. I wonder if he feels it too, that searing heat that is so palpable I can feel sweat break out from the back of my neck. Asking, though, would mean that I’m aware of what’s happening, asking would imply that I want something to happen.

Maybe I do. 

Maybe I do want to grab life by the reins myself and steer it wherever I want it to go. 

“What are you thinking about?” 

I blink. Right up into Kevin’s brown orbs, his hair catching the shades of blue from the disco balls. My throat runs dry. 

“Uh--” my mind tries to scramble for a response, any response, “just--uhm, it’s kind of like our last day here.” 

He cocks his head, “sad?” 

“Kinda. I like it here,” my eyes brush over Emma and Vincent’s forms in the vicinity, catch my grandma sitting at one of the tables, little cousins running all over the place. Then, I look back at the said young man gazing at me with that undecipherable look in his eyes that makes my heart sing, and try not to squirm as I continue softly, “it feels like home.” 

“We can always come back,” he uses ‘we’ as though it’s now an adventure kept between the two of us, a secret to our own little neverland that nobody knows about. I can’t help but smile at the thought. 

“Do you want to come back?” I ask.

“Are you kidding? Hell yeah I want to come back. The views are amazing, the food is out of this world, and your family has been really kind to me.” 

“I’m sorry, they are kind of overbearing when you first get to know them.” 

“I love it,” Kevin says seriously, “I love that they’re overbearing. Couldn’t have asked for anything more.” 

If I had any doubts, the sincerity dripping from his eyes is enough to wipe out any suspicions left from his compliment. The sudden urge to hug him rocks through me and my hands fist on the back of his shirt in response. 

We keep on dancing silently, bobbing from one foot to another for a few minutes more before he speaks up softly. 

“Y/N?” 

“Hm?” 

“I wouldn't mind getting married here.” 

My eyebrows shoot up in surprise, “really now?” 

“Yup,” he grins, “really.” 

“Your future wife will have me to thank for that.” 

“Maybe my future wife won’t have to thank you.” 

There it is. That same borderline flirting that’s been happening for days on end. 

“And why is that?” I probe, partly just to tease him, and partly because I just want to know.

“Maybe she might be right here, in this room.” 

“Didn’t know you were into one of my cousins,” I start looking around the room, only for one of his hands to cup my cheek to turn my face back to his. 

There is none of that teasing glimmer now. His eyes are darker, gazing down at me with such emotion that the breath catches in the back of my throat and the air halts in my lungs. We gaze at each other for a few beats longer, before I feel his thumb graze my cheek. Gently, so gently like he’d stroke a flower petal. 

Swallowing at the heat of his hand cupping the side of my face, my hands unconsciously tighten on the back of his neck. He senses my nervousness, but only pulls me slightly closer so that we are mere millimeters from each other, noses hovering over each other in a space that causes my heart to stutter inside my chest. 

When he opens his mouth next, his alto is hoarse, pent-up with emotion. 

“I wasn’t talking about your cousins.” 

My heart practically jumps to my throat, teeth biting onto my lip. 

I can’t hear the music, nor the people. I can’t hear anything except for my pounding heart and Kevin’s soft breaths washing over my face. 

His eyes search mine and we hold gazes for a moment too long.

“Y/N?” 

I press my lips together, “Y-Yes?” 

He moves even closer then so that his nose brushes mine in the most intimate of ways. 

“I--” 

“Y/N! I was looking all over for you!” 

We spring apart like we just got burnt just in time for one of my cousins to grab onto my arm. He sends an apologetic smile at Kevin, before explaining, “we just need to sort out the takeaways. She’ll be back in a second!” 

And without listening to my protests, he proceeds to drag me away from the said young man on the dancefloor. I look back, mouthing an ‘I’m sorry” once more -- it’s the second time that night!-- and see the raven-haired man laugh good-naturedly before shaking his head and waving me away. That does nothing to keep my heart from cartwheeling out of my chest, swelling up with such affection that I grin back despite the earlier predicament. 

One thing’s for sure: I’m not done talking with Kevin Moon yet. 

----------

I find him sitting alone in the tiny garden that overlooks the decorated pavillon a few hours later. His figure, illuminated by the soft yellow hues of interior light, seems to glow in the dark, the moon bouncing off his hair and catching the strength of his cheekbone when he turns and catches me staring. He only smiles though -- that beautiful tender smile that I keep seeing more and more these days -- before waving me over. 

“What are you doing out here all alone?” I ask as I reach his figure. A soft breeze dances along the back of my spine, cool in contrast to the warm stickiness of the air. 

“Your smaller cousin was showing me what she’d learnt in astronomy at her school,” he tilts his head up at the sky, “she’s quite the prodigy at that.” 

“The next woman to land on the moon,” I joke.

“Jeez, I should get her autograph.” 

“Wise idea,” that’s when I feel his hand slip into mine and I look down at him, blinking. He grins a little shyly, before tugging me forward so that I all but stumble right into him, halfway sprawled across his lap. 

Heat explodes through my chest at the proximity of our bodies and I can’t help but avert my gaze from his, partly embarrassed that maybe there might be someone around to see, and partly because it’s only recently that I’ve started seeing Kevin in a new light that being so close makes my heart choke up and my mind to run blank. 

We’re close. So close I feel his breath mingle with mine. My hands settle atop his chest lightly, “Kev,” I breathe out but nothing follows, too scared to verbally voice out what is going on for fear that it might all crumble into nothing. 

I don’t want false hope. I also don’t want his heart -- or mine -- to break. 

This friendship is too precious to let go. I can’t imagine a life without Kevin in it.

“Listen Y/N,” Kevin’s voice is soft, a hushed murmur resonating through his chest as his eyes search mine, “I think we both know what’s happening here.” 

I nod mutely. 

Taking a shaky breath, he continues, “I don’t want to do anything that will hurt you. I know it’s been tough and that you’re still healing. I just--I just want to know.” 

As his words wash over me as gently as the forest leaves rustling around us, I feel the warmth of his hand cupping my cheek, holding me like I am fine china and stroking my skin with his thumb so that butterflies suddenly rush along my middle.

I bite my lip so hard I can taste blood, " I-- well, I think you already know how I feel."

"I know," he breathes, "but I need to hear it from you."

As if it isn't hard enough to come face to face with my own feelings, having Kevin stare me down as though I put the moon in his sky makes me want to squirm with a mixture of embarrassment and excitement. 

“I like you,” I blurt out then, “a lot.” 

There is a few seconds delay, before a shit-- eating grin --the biggest I’ve ever seen -- spreads across Kevin’s face like sunshine peeking through the clouds.

“Enough for us to go on a date?”

I nod mutely. I don’t trust my voice, not right now when I already feel so pathetic. Kevin’s grin softens into a tender smile, one that I can’t help but return when our eyes meet in the most intimate of ways. Suddenly, the air feels charged and alive with electricity, the heat between our bodies palpable as his hand moves to the back of my neck. 

He tugs. I follow. 

His lips find mine mid-way in a delicate kiss. 

It’s soft. Softer than any kiss I’ve ever had. Kevin’s mouth parts over my own in a gentle caress, before he tilts his head to the side and captures my lower lip between his. 

I gasp slightly at the contact, hands unconsciously tightening around his neck. 

Slowly leaning away, I notice the film of lust like a dull glow at the back of his maroon orbs, just the slightest hint that he wants me as a woman. And that makes my lungs constrict, air suddenly halting in the back of my throat.

My skin is prickling with the aftermath of his touch. I let out a soft breath before he covers my mouth with his once more and all thoughts fly out of my brain the moment he does. 

I don’t really know how long we spend outside, exchanging the softest of kisses underneath the moonlight, until I hear the soft exclamations of my family’s voices suggesting that it is time to head home. So I part from the said man and can’t help but blush at the lack of space between our bodies.

“We should probably head back,” I hate how wanton I sound, like I’ve just sprinted a mile when in truth I’ve been sitting in this very spot for the last hour.

He agrees and I descend from his lap, his hand subtly finding mine as we walk back to the wedding hall. 

Emma is still saying her goodbyes, her hair now dotted with glitter, probably from the decorations that my younger cousins took pleasure in bathing her in. Her face lights up as soon as she spots our entwined hands and I try not to meet her eyes for I know exactly the kind of smug look she'll be giving me. 

"Enjoyed the wedding?" She says as soon as we're within earshot.

"That must've been the best cake I've had in my life," Kevin lets out a dramatic sigh, "and that says something."

"Do I trust your taste buds though?" She teases.

"I'd be offended if you didn't," he gasped in mock offense, before they both break into playful chuckles.

As we exchange our goodbyes and Vincent engages Kevin in a conversation, Emma takes this chance to drag me to her side as she whispers, "so you gonna tell me the tea or am I going to have to extract it from you?"

I press my lips together as I try to control the heat searing through the back of my neck, "...we kissed."

She gasps, "No way! OH MY GOD! Are you guys a thing then?!" The answer is as clear as water on my face and she clamps a hand over her mouth, would've jumped up and down if she could've, "OH MY, OH MY GOD. I knew it! I just knew this was going to happen--"

"Shut up!" I hiss, scared that Kevin might overhear and think I'm a big fat tattle tale. My eyes quickly swivel over to his and I'm glad to find his head bent towards Vincent in concentration. 

"You need to tell me everything," Emma's eyes are sparkling, "like--as soon as you have some free time."

"You--" I send her a pointed look, then jerk my head at Vincent, "--need to tell me everything."

"Oh I will, don't worry."

"Anyway, I'll talk to you after your honeymoon."

"Okay," I turn around to find Kevin, not failing to notice the smirk playing on Emma's lips. I slap her arm in response, causing her to laugh before she calls out: 

"Don't forget to use protection!"

-----------

"We'll come back right?"

That's the first thing that Kevin states as soon as we step inside security, away from the tears of my family that I just left behind a few seconds ago. My heart still aches when I think of their faces, all crumpled and blinking at me with tissues in hand and noses as red as traffic lights. But I seek comfort upon feeling Kevin's hand slip through mine as we walk towards our destined gate. 

"Sure," I look at him; at his red-tinted cheeks (probably the aftermath of a sunburn), his newly tanned skin a fresh contrast against his white shirt, and the permanent grin that seems impossible to wipe off his face. My heart instantly flutters.

It's only been a few days since we've confessed our growing romantic interest in each other, but I can already feel the weight of his love pouring out of his heart and into mine the moment he realized that my arms would be there to catch him when he fell.

"I'm not going to wake up to an empty bed tomorrow morning, am I?" He’d joked when we stumbled, half-asleep, into Emma's flat after the wedding. 

I frowned at him, "Why would you think that?"

"Just in case you think that kissing me was a mistake."

A small pause ensued, in which I realized that despite all my fears and all the pain I had been carrying in my heart ever since we landed on my motherland, I had not once considered how Kevin might be feeling at this very moment. 

My eyes quickly took note of his countenance, sweeping right up to his face only to notice the flash of vulnerability in his eyes, the way the corners of his mouth were tense, cheekbones taught against his skin as he awaited for my answer with baited breath. 

Clearing my throat, I whispered, "it wasn't."

A soft smile tugged at his lips, "good to know."

His answer seemed so genuine, so wholehearted that my chest tightened in a mixture of gratefulness and affection, so much so that my arms automatically reached for him to tug him close. My nose found its rightful place at his neck and I breathed in his comforting  lilac smell that I enjoyed so much.

I felt him take a breath. Then, softly, a hand caressed the back of my head. I buried even closer if that was possible.

"I really want this to work," my words were a muffled mess and I was surprised that he understood.

"Me too," he murmured into my hair, "and it will work. I promise I won't break your heart Y/N."

Looking back now at this tender moment in which we both weren't certain of where we were stepping, I can't help but laugh at the thought, for now the love and attraction is so natural I'm amazed it has taken this long to flourish. 

Maybe I hadn't been looking the right way. Maybe I had been searching so far out and wide that I hadn't noticed that my safe harbour is the one standing right beside me.

"Hey Kevin," I call out.

Kevin turns towards me, where he'd been watching planes take off from the ground into the gorgeously blue sunny sky.

"Yeah?" 

“I’m really glad you came.” 

There's a few beats of silence although his mouth immediately cracks into that gorgeous, crooked grin of his that I adore so much. 

“Me too.” 

----

[127-mile]

Now that we found love.

Pairing : ceo!Suh Johnny x black widow!Reader.

Genre : Rich!au, friends to lovers / Fluff, angst, smut.

Warnings : non-explicit mention of death, mature content (semi-public sex, fingering, slight dirty talk, spit as lube, slight choking, unprotected sex (use protections kids), come eating), alcohol.

Word count : +10k.

Plot : Yn travels a lot, and in each new city, each new country, she is known for being irresistible and for always getting what she wants. She also lures wealthy people into marriage, just before they meet an untimely death. Johnny is a young and wealthy CEO who decided to enjoy a well deserved summer of freedom. Yn knows him, knows his fortune. She wants him. Terribly.

You can't escape my affection, wrap you up in my daisy chains.

A/N : Hello, and welcome to another collab organized by the wonderful @neo-cult-ure​ for summer. We had to choose a song with the word summer, and I picked Summer Bummer by Lana Del Rey. Please, go read the others writers works, and give us feedback, it’ll be much appreciated. + prompt from idea-garden.

"Johnny, let me introduce you to Yn, she's going to do her internship here with you." Mr. Suh says with a thin smile to the boy who nods his head. He's tall, and handsome although a little uncomfortable in his tailored suit. You know Johnny, you were in high school together and from what you've heard from your friends he's still the same. A very nice boy, with a full wallet. Which is of course a plus.

"I hope you take good care of her, and show her everything she needs to know over the next months or so." once more Johnny nods without opening his mouth, lips pursed. "Perfect! Welcome miss." you smile at the man who takes his leave. Then finally you turn to Johnny once more, your smile is more mischevious now. "Daddy's business eh?" He rolls his eyes, of course he remembers you, too. You didn't have the best relationship back then, maybe because you always had fun annoying him.

He never deserved this kind of treatment, but maybe your problem with dealing with your emotions and feelings was the reason, or maybe because you just liked to draw attention on yourself in the worst ways. "I'm kidding Johnny, I'm here to learn, not to annoy you." He sighs, and you don't know if it's a good thing or not, but eventually he opens his mouth. "Don't worry, everyone has the same reaction when they hear that I work here. Come on, I'll show you your office."

Coming from a person like Johnny Suh, it was to be expected that he would work in his father's company. Such a large, wealthy, and influential company is held for generations, and Johnny being an only child belongs in this place. "It's cool I think, working here. No matter what happens during your school years, you know you have a comfortable place waiting for you, with an office overlooking the city, and a good pay in the end of each month."

Johnny stays silent, and he gets on the elevator. The climb to the 20th floor is silent, and tense. Maybe that wasn't the best way to start a conversation, and start a friendship. But no one can resist your charms, so you know that at one point or another, he'll crack and open up more to you. Being so charming is one of the reasons your wallet looks so awesome at your age, especially for a student. But he doesn't need to know that detail.

Finally, he walks to a room which is large and contains several desks. He shows you one of them. "There you go, this is where you will be." You think he's going to leave, but instead he takes his place behind the desk which is in front of you and only separated by a transparent screen. At least if you're bored, you'll have plenty of time to admire Johnny. "So tell me. What are we doing?" you try to look excited to help relax Johnny, and that seems to work for a second since he doesn't frown anymore. "Not much, we take care of the photocopies, the simple contracts, and if you're unlucky enough to run into an idiot, you'll make the coffee."

Well, you couldn't expect to do anything more interesting. "Good thing, I love making coffee." at least that remark has a knack for making Johnny laugh, and it's nice to hear. To be honest, you didn't apply to do your internship at this company because you dream of running a business that is worth millions of dollars. Rather because you dream of emptying the pockets of the people who work there. You see, you had the best example growing up. Your mother had a knack for bringing different men home over the years, and eventually they all disappeared. And when they disappeared, the house got bigger, and the car more luxurious. It didn't take long for you to figure out what was going on. Your mother was a black widow. And you wanted to be one too.

You grew up in luxury, and you plan to grow old in luxury.

One month is enough to change your relationship with Johnny. You even start to regret having bothered him so much in school, because he is adorable, and he thinks of others before thinking of himself. He is intelligent, and well spoken. You enjoy being in his presence, that's a fact.

And to be honest, if bringing so many men to your feet weren't your main mission for the future, you might fall in love with Johnny. And even with said mission, it's hard for you to resist his charm. Yes, you have a natural charm, but so does he. Besides, you are breathless when you see him, in a costume that costs probably three times your rent, talking to his father.

The company decided to throw a party to celebrate the end of your 3 months internship, so Johnny decided to put everything on his physique. With his black hair slicked back, and the thin glasses that are held by a gold chain around his neck. You shake your head, and you walk into the room where several of your future former colleagues greet you. You smile, and you gladly accept the glass of champagne offered to you. While waiting for Johnny to realize your presence, you speak with several people. Little unnecessary conversations, but after a while you feel a hand resting on your shoulder.

"You are radiant tonight! Excited to leave us?" Johnny asks, and you smile as you face him. Yes, even if the internship is over, Johnny will continue to come and work with his father when his schedule allows it. "Not really, I'll miss seeing you bump into desks and knock down coffees."

Johnny, on top of his 6ft pouts, and you bite your lip so as not to laugh. He's adorable, but you're sure it would be frowned upon to approach him to squich his cheeks. "I am not doing it on purpose !" he finally said with an offended expression. You drink the last sip of your champagne, and you put your glass on the nearest table. "Of course not! But really, I will miss you." it's the truth, you got attached to that big idiot.

Johnny's smile is triumphant and you roll your eyes. "I'll miss you too, but we'll meet again." you don't know when, since you're going to go back to university, and you don't know where you will even be in a few months, but you nod your head. "Of course! You owe me seven coffees, and I intend to charge you for them one by one."

The rest of the evening went off without a hitch. You laugh with Johnny as you accumulate glasses of champagne, and when the guests start to leave, you feel good. And tipsy. Johnny isn't in a better shape, he laughs a lot and makes jokes that would be considered inappropriate if they didn't make you laugh so much.

And his hand has found its place in your lower back every time you moved around the room. Eventually it's time for you to leave too so you greet the last guests including Johnny's dad and you leave the building. Yes, you will miss this building with those large windows and the magnificent view they offer over the city. Johnny follows you closely, whispering everything and nothing until he pulls up in front of a car with an engine running.

"You want a ride home ?" He asks, and you nod your head. You've got your car in the parking, but you're not stupid enough to take it with so much alcohol in your body. A chauffeur gets out, and he opens the back door. You wolf-whistle and he laughs. "Well well Johnny Suh has his own chauffeur !"

You sit by the window, and Johnny takes a seat in the middle. His thigh against yours, you let your head fall on his shoulder. It's silent, at least until you open your mouth. "I'm so sorry, you know. For bothering you so much at school." Some people have it nasty, or sad, or even horny because of alcohol, but when it comes to you, alcohol forces you into a guilty mode. And that's not fun. "Eh it's fine, don't feel bad about it. It was years ago." you raise your head, and your eyes meet Johnnys' who is smiling softly. You lean over and place a little kiss on the corner of his lips. "You shouldn't be so nice Johnny."

When the car pulls up in front of your apartment complex, the driver helps you get out without hitting your head or tripping over the sidewalk. You raise your eyebrow, and you watch Johnny for a second. "I will miss you, Suh." you lean over the opened window to kiss his cheek and with those words, you turn on your heels.

The car's door closes, as does this chapter of your life.

Five years have passed since the departure party organized at the Suh company. And boy, things have happened in five years.

First, you graduated. Not that you use those three years of schooling to do something useful, but it is something you can brag about every now and then.

Second, you deepened your work as a black widow. If you initially only used your charms to get money from old people in need of attention, now you get a lot more. You live in constant luxury. You travel the world, you visit wonderful places, and each time, you leave with a little more money in your bank account. A bit more ? Who are you kidding? With a lot more.

Third, you haven't seen Johnny again. Well, you've seen him several times in five years, but not in person. You've seen him on the cover of magazines, in interviews, and on television. Johnny has become one of the youngest, wealthiest, and most beautiful CEOs. Nothing really surprising.

And above all, he has become your next prey.

Normally, you are satisfied with old people who do not necessarily have a family who will worry about seeing him fall in love with a young girl like you. And above all, you don't attack people you already know. But Johnny .. Johnny has something you want. Youth, money. And it's an experience that couldn't hurt you, right ?

If you thought you could have fallen in love with him when you were younger, you have changed now, you have matured and you no longer succumb to the charms of anyone around you. You have nothing to fear.

And summer seems like the perfect time to have him.

Johnny decided it was time for him to take his first vacation since taking over the family business. And fortunately, you had a friend who still worked with the Suh family, ready to give you the information you needed for a small financial compensation. So here you are.

"Keep laughing, and I'm going to hurt you." you mumble while bringing the blanket over your face to prevent the rays of sunshine from dazzling you. You feel movement next to you, and immediately, Ten's laughter echoes right in your ear, which makes you growl. "You little shit!" he laughs harder, encircling your body with his arms and you fidget to withdraw from his embrace, the room is too hot, you don't need that extra warmth.

You stop moving when Ten puts his head on your chest, and you think you can enjoy a few more minutes of sleep, but it is too much for Ten who gets his phone to finish watching the video that clearly woke you up. "Why are you even awake? It's too early." Ten is used to sleeping late, and you don't know why this morning is different. "You were snoring." he deadpanned.

You punch him in the shoulder, and he squeaks before sitting down, rubbing his bare skin. "Why did you do that?" He asks, a pout on his face and you sigh. "I don't snore." you take your phone from the charger and whine at the time on the screen : 7:04am. The jetlag is still rough on you even after two weeks, or is that just you growing older, all you wanted was to spend your day in bed, but obviously, Ten had other ideas.

"What are we doing today ?" Ten asks and you shrug. "You, I don't know, but I have someone to see." Ten frowns, he's annoyed that he's always the last to know about your plans. It must have been 4 years since he joined your little shenanigans after the sudden death of his father, and yet, it's like you don't trust him enough. "I thought we were here to enjoy some time off ? Didn't you say you needed a break ?"

You get up from the bed and laugh softly. Ten is adorable, that's something you know for sure. But he's even more naive, that would make him almost endearing. "Oh, honey. I don't have time for a day off. Maybe in two or three years from now." you never thought about ending your little black widow career. You're having too much fun, and the feeling of having a full bank account is divine. "But you are welcome to leave, if you want."

The subject of his departure is put on the carpet every time you move to a new place, but he never did. He never left. On one hand, he likes the luxury life that you offer him too much, and on the other, he is afraid that you will not let him get away with it so easily because he knows all your secrets. And he's right, you will never let him leave you. Or maybe you will. In a body bag.

"That's what I thought," you say when Ten stays silent, avoiding your gaze. You take your purse, and take out a credit card to throw it on his lap. "Go have fun. Treat yourself, find yourself a cute little thing to bring back home tonight." With these words, you lock yourself in the bathroom for a long shower. The water is hot, and it leaves your skin burning, incredible. When you go out, a towel wrapped around your chest, you hear the water coming from the second bathroom, which means that Ten is getting ready to go out too. It's still early, so you definitely have time to eat breakfast with him before you go looking for your new prey.

"Breakfast ?" you ask when Ten return to the room, with his usual mischievous smile. The conversation already forgotten, and you can thank the credit card for that. Ten likes pretty things, and you like to make him happy, it's a good deal. Together, you leave the house to a small café you discovered the day you moved here. The house offers a magnificent view of the sea. In the height of summer, the heat is overwhelming, so you promise to go for a walk on the beach when the sun goes down. And if you're lucky enough, maybe you won't be alone.

The small town begins to fill with tourists who go to the beach. You stop to admire a few shops, barely listening to Ten, and after a little while, you enter said café. The boy behind the counter smiles at you, offering you a view of beautiful dimples. "Good morning, what can I do for you?" He asks in a soft voice, music to your ears. "Two iced Americano, please." He nods, and he turns to prepare the drinks.

"There you go, enjoy!" He tells you by handing you the plastic cups after you've paid. This is the problem of having a new prey, you have no idea how long it will take before you see them, or before you have the opportunity to speak to them. It's boring to say the least, but it's worth it. Well, you hope that Johnny will be worth it, and if it is not the case, well you'll go to the next one.

You sit by the glass window, Ten facing you. He sighs, and you tilt your head to the side. "A penny for your thoughts?" he shrugs before taking a sip of coffee. "Nothing," Ten begins, "why here? You don't like tourists, and most of all, you don't like the beach." He's not wrong, you have always preferred big cities, the bustle, the constant hum of cars, the smell of pollution and above all, the absence of sand. "Because I had no choice." You shrug and Ten shakes his head. He knows he won't have much more information. He's a good boy.

Once your coffee is done, you get up under Ten's curious gaze. "Okay, I have things to do. See you later? Take care of yourself." You bend down, and kiss his forehead, and like a cat, Ten seeks more warmth from your lips. You go out of the little café smiling at the barista, and you walk to the city center. If the message you received earlier was not wrong, your prey should be around the Royal Albion Hotel. So you go there, your hands in the pockets of your thin jacket, and strangely enough, you see him. That was easy. You could say this is beginner's luck, but Johnny is definitely not the first.

Brown hair covering his eyes, the sun giving his skin a beautiful glow, a camera hanging from his neck. Johnny Suh is standing in all his glory. You approach slowly, admiring the width of his shoulders, and the way the gentle breeze rushes through his white shirt.

You tap your index finger on his shoulder, and you clear your throat to make sure to get Johnny's attention. Immediately, he turns and when his gaze meets yours, a smile lights up his face. His beautiful face. "Oh, thank god! For a second I thought I was wrong, that would have been embarrassing." you say in a soft voice, and Johnny's smile doesn't fade, quite the contrary. The rays of sunshine reflect in his eyes which take on a golden hue. "Yn, what a surprise to see you here, it's been so long!" he hugs you for a few seconds before taking a step back to look you up and down. "What are you doing here ?"

"Oh, I needed a break. A break away from the big city, so what about you? Already tired of being the big boss of the Suh's company ?" you tilt your head, truly interested in what he has to say, well, you already know what he is going to tell you, but it's all in the act. The more genuine you look, the more he will trust you. And trust is what you look for the most when you have a new prey. If it works when you don't know your prey, it should also work when you already know it. And you don't think there's a lot of trust left between you after so many years apart.

Johnny shakes his head, his fingers rubbing his camera. "It is tiring, but I quite like it. I just felt like a break could be good." well, you're glad he decided to do that, it's much easier. Of course you could have waited a few more years, waited for his bank account to be fuller but you were never known for being patient. And you didn't have anything on your to-do list as of right now.

"I understand, you deserve to enjoy a little." he nods, a small laugh leaving his full, rosy lips. "You certainly have things to do, I wouldn't want to bother you." to support your words, you look at his camera, and Johnny follows your gaze, never losing his smile. "I wanted some shots of the beach, and maybe of the old village. But we could meet again later, what do you think?" you see, that's the advantage you don't have with a prey you don't know, it's not as easy to have a date or to strike up a conversation.

"Oh, I'd love to. I've been here for a couple of weeks already, maybe you'd like me to show you around? I know a pretty good restaurant." you tilt your head, your voice is overflowing with sweetness and you are almost sickened by it but it seems to work on Johnny whose gaze never leaves you. "That would be amazing, let's meet here at 6pm?" you nod your head, and a sudden surge of confidence makes you step forward to place a small kiss on his cheek.

You turn to wave at him, and you're pretty sure you see him blush, but it could very well be a trick played by the sun. You keep smiling until you get to the house. You have several hours to kill, you might as well spend them somewhere comfortable. You could have invited Johnny over, but you don't want to risk to get caught by Ten either bringing someone new, or with one too many glasses of alcohol clouding his judgment and stopping his brain to mouth filter to work. Ten has a big mouth, and you really don't want him to spill all of your secrets.

Time flies by, and before you know it, you find yourself waiting for Johnny at the same place you found him this morning. He's right on time, and he's still so handsome. His hair is wavy, maybe from the sea air, adorable. "I hope I didn't keep you waiting too long." is the first thing he says to you when his gaze meets yours and you shake your head. "Not at all, I barely arrived five minutes ago."

The walk to the restaurant is pleasant. Tourists are always on the beach, or already home for a well-deserved shower. Johnny talks about his work, his photographs, the time you were both interns, everything and nothing. It's nice to be in his company, you think, even when the silence sets in, it's not heavy, it's comfortable. Which is rare with you. This is the perks of being old friends.

"Oh my god, I've been talking so much!" Johnny says, sitting across from you in the restaurant. He hides his face with his hands and you laugh softly. He looks like an embarrassed child, not what you would expect from the playboy Johnny Suh. "It's okay, I like hearing you talk!" you smile at him when he finally deigns to show his face, his cheeks a slight reddish tint. "You seem to be really passionate about photography, why didn't you continue in this path ?"

Of course, you know the answer, it's obvious. But you put it down anyway. Johnny sighs, his fingers playing with the hem of his shirt. "Oh you know, I didn't really have a choice. As an only child, it was obvious that I was going to take over my father's company. I tried to talk to him when I was younger, trying to make him understand that maybe selling the company and retiring would be a good thing, I've never taken such a hard slap in my life." he's laughing, but you can see in his eyes that it's not genuine.

"The idea of being like my father scared me when I was younger. Good grades at school, place in society, a wife and children who will take over when I'm too old to work, a reputation that should not be tarnished at the risk of losing everything. But I think that over time, I got used to the idea." Johnny shrugs, and even though you're here to seduce and manipulate him, your heart hurts for him. Because Johnny is a good person, he deserves to be happy the way he wants. "It's not that bad after all."

You shake your head, you can't afford to have sympathy, or worse, empathy for someone you are going to manipulate and kill. Yes, knowing your prey has many advantages but also disadvantages. You can't afford to be sensitive, and be fooled. "It's sad anyway. Having a child, and not allowing him to live the life he wants, not wanting him to be happy and flourish in the life that he built for himself." Johnny sighs, but before he can open his mouth to answer, he's cut off by the waitress. "It is what it is." he says when she is gone.

"Enough about me, what's up? What has happened in the past five years?" he asks, and you shrug. Of course, you have prepared a speech, the same that you give to all your preys. “Oh, well I graduated, and I realized that wasn't what I wanted to do at all. So I gave myself a year to travel, and to think. I started to get a taste for travelling, for discovering new cultures, so much so that I never stay long in one place. I find small jobs, and when I'm bored, I find my next destination." in a way, you're not really lying. You've spent the last few years traveling, but not for the reasons he thinks.

"But it's tiring in the long run, you know. Not having a place to call home. I know I'm still young, that I can land somewhere, and make a living, start a family, but that's the problem, I don't know where I want to make my life."

Johnny nods, he listens intently, it's like he's drinking your words, and it's genuinely adorable. “I understand,” he begins. "I hope you find the place where you feel comfortable and happy." if he knew this place was going to be his apartment, he would certainly be surprised. But one thing at a time.

"Tell me, heartbreaker, do you have someone in your life? I've read every one of your interviews, and you're still very secret about your private life. Tell me everything." he scoffs, and you put your elbows on the table to get closer to him. You're ready to hear it all, and why would he refuse? You were friends once. "I don't have time for a serious love affair. I have one night stands, but that's it."

You sigh dramatically before taking a sip of the wine. "What do you mean you don't have time for a love story? You don't have time because you don't give yourself time. Maybe that would change if you had someone who was waiting for you at home every nights. Don't you think ? " you ask, tilting your head, and he seems to think about it.

"You're absolutely right. But who would want a man like me? My job is my priority, and it will remain my priority until I reach the age to hand over to someone else." Johnny is really not trying to make an effort. "Listen to me, Suh. You are an amazing man, you are kind, smart and selfless. Your job is your priority because you haven't experienced anything else during the past years. You haven't had the chance to experience love. So of course right now you can't imagine your life without your job in mind, but it will happen, believe me."

The way the dinner turned isn't how you thought it would, but that's okay. You have three weeks to make him fall under your spell, and what better than a serious discussion eh? Fortunately after that, the conversation becomes lighter, and you talk about the memories of your internship. Besides, when you leave the restaurant, you are not yet finished. It is true that there are a lot of things to say.

"Do you remember the departure party, when I brought you home? I was planning to kiss you." He says, giggling. He drank too much wine, and so have you, but it's more visible on him. The tips of his ears are red, and so are his cheeks. It's cute, you can't say otherwise. "Oh yeah? And why didn't you do it?" He shrugs and stops near the beach. "It's your fault! You kissed me on the cheek, you broke the mood!"

"Did I break the mood?" You ask by removing your shoes to put your feet on the sand, wincing at the feeling between your toes, Johnny following you without being asked. "I can't believe it! Say you were afraid of being rejected." He rolls his eyes, and you bite your lip to keep from laughing. To be honest, you have missed that kind of pointless little argument that you always had. "Being rejected? Why? You said it yourself, I'm an amazing man."

Using your own words against you is dirty, but you're laughing. You walk towards the water, and even if you can't see him, you can feel Johnny's presence behind you. "You know, if you had kissed me, maybe you wouldn't have to come into an empty house every night."

After that evening, you saw Johnny every day for an entire week. Whether it was to go for a coffee, or to take pictures, you were inseparable. And you found out that he was more than his good physique and his incredible smile. Once again, you found yourself stuck. Because once again, you knew that you could fall in love with him if you were not careful.

When you told Ten about Johnny, he advised you not to do it, not to choose him. He said it might get you in trouble, and maybe even put you in danger and you start to think that for once, maybe he was right. As for the danger, you don't know if you could ever be, but for the problems ... yes. Because it's hard not to get attached to Johnny, not wanting to hear his melodious laughter every day, and to see him smile at every opportunity.

You hate to admit it, but because of Johnny, you were starting to question your black widow status. You are weak. Weak for Johnny. But it's wrong, you can't afford it. You have to continue with your plan. You will seduce him, make him fall in love with you, and you will end up with your name in his will. Too bad if it hurts, you'll get over it eventually.

Ten noticed the change in your behavior. Because normally, in a week, you are already more involved in the life of your prey. But with Johnny, nothing happened. Not even a kiss. So of course, every time you come home from a day with Johnny, he teases you like the little shit he is. You gotta step up your game before you beat Ten's ass.

That's why you decided to invite Johnny over to the house for the first time. The atmosphere will be nice, and relaxed, maybe that will help you to take it up a gear. "I invited Johnny over to the house for dinner tonight, so if you could leave, it would be nice." Ten barely looks up from his bowl of cereal and he sighs. He's spent his week trying not to cross you or Johnny, mostly because he knows you don't trust him. And he is right.

"Okay." He says as he stand up to throw the rest of his milk in the kitchen sink. "I think I can still find myself a cute little thing." at least he's not bored, because he's charming and people have a hard time resisting him. Luckily, he doesn't kill these people, he just spends a nice night with them and lets them go the next day. Unlike you.

You spend the rest of the day preparing for Johnny's coming. You install fairylights in the garden, you put candles on the table and flowers that you bought earlier. It's pretty, and you might throw up. After a long cold shower, you dress simply, it is way too hot to make a fuss.

And at eight o'clock sharp, Johnny knocks on the door. You open, and you are met with a big smile, and a bouquet of red roses in his hands. "It's for me ?" you ask, tilting your head, and he admires the bouquet. "No, for the neighbor, but I haven't had the chance to see her." you roll your eyes and push yourself to let him in the house. Finally, he gives you the flowers, and you thank him with a kiss on the cheek. "I have everything prepared in the garden, so you can go and sit down while I put the flowers in a vase."

He obeys, and finally you find yourself alone in the kitchen. You have to calm your heartbeat, because this boy really knows how to play with your heart strings without even doing anything. You go out, and  sit down across from Johnny who is too engrossed in his phone to notice you. You clear your throat, but it still doesn't help. "Johnny Suh, if you don't put your phone down right now, I'm going to hurt you." he smiles, and he puts his phone on the table, the screen against the wood. "Ah yes, and how are you going to do that?"

You think for a moment, and get up. Luckily Johnny's chair is pushed out, so you sit on his lap without asking his permission. Even though he looks surprised at your bold action, he puts his hands on your waist, probably to keep you from falling. "I do have a few ideas." with your index finger, you trace shapes on Johnny's chest whose breathing quickens slightly.

"Show me ?" if he insists. You bend down, and you grab his lower lip between your teeth to pull on it. He tenses, and when you pull back, you can see him come forward to chase your lips. Adorable. Then you slide your lips down his jawline to bite the skin, and you end up on his throat which you bite down several times, hard enough to leave a mark that will take on a beautiful purple hue tomorrow. Johnny growls, and you smile, proud of yourself. "Like that, I guess."

"Is that the reason you invited me tonight?" He asks in a low voice and you shake your head, both of your hands on his chest. His hands haven't left your waist, and you avoid thinking about the heat they radiate. "Of course not, I intended to wait until dessert to do that."

"You're sweet enough, no need to wait." with those words, he leans in to kiss you, and you sigh against his lips. You underestimated how bad you wanted to kiss him, taste his soft, plush lips. You wrap your arms around his neck and respond to the kiss. It's cute and sweet at first, and when you feel the tip of his tongue on your lower lip, you open your mouth and then a battle for dominance begins.

His hands slip under your t-shirt and you shudder slightly. His hands are cold and yet his fingers leave a scorching mark on your skin. It is extremely pleasant. "You're driving me crazy, you know that?" he mumbles against your lips before sliding them down your neck. He kisses your skin, and he bites repeatedly. You purse your lips, but when he bites particularly hard, a moan escapes you and he smiles.

"This is what I was looking for." you answer, already out of breath. With a quick movement, you open his shirt and hear the sound of buttons falling to the floor. "Hey!" he gently hits your thigh and you laugh. He's beautifully muscular, and your mouth waters. Your fingers draw the contours of his abs and he takes the opportunity to remove your t-shirt.

His lips attack the top of your chest without delay and you roll your hips against the obvious bulge in his pants. "Shouldn't we go to your room?" He asks and you look at him with a smirk. "Oh, is the big Johnny Suh afraid of being caught?" you tilt your head, and his response is immediate. He gets up, and you squeak. He puts you on the table, forcing your legs open to get in between. "I'm not afraid of anything."

He kisses your belly, and of course, he bites the skin and you squirm under him. You need more, so much more. But Johnny seems to like to tease you since he takes a long time to unbutton your pants and take them off. "Please Johnny." you whine, and he looks at you, eyes darkened with lust. "What do you want ?" you're used to being the most dominant in this kind of situation but Johnny is impressive, and for some reason you feel intimidated when he's around you. And even more so when he has his hands on you.

"Touch me, please." Johnny scoffs, and he strokes the side of your thighs. "This is what I am doing." you sigh, if he wants to play, then you have to play back when it is your turn to have your hands on him. Finally, after what seems like an eternity, his fingers slide down your panties and Johnny notices the wet stain and he bites his lip. "Pretty."

He takes your panties off, and he doesn't waste a moment to collect your wetness on his fingers. You buck your hips, but his free hand pins your down on the table. "No moving. You'll take what I give you." You really wonder what happened to the guy who blushes when you kiss his cheek, because right now he is nowhere to be found. "Come on, don't be a bitch John !" you mutter, and he looks up. "You always have to run your mouth, don't you ?" you feel the heat coming to your cheeks, and he opens his mouth again to talk. "Guess I'll have to put it to use."

You frown, and the thumb of the hand who was pining you down minute ago brushes against your lower lip. You open your mouth and two of his fingers slide inside your mouth. His fingers presse on your tongue and you almost gag which seems to be funny to him. "Good girl. Stay quiet now." The pad of his fingers rub against your clit but before you can try to get any pleasure out of it, the fingers are gone. Not for long because one of them ease itself inside of you and you close your eyes.

Drool gathers on the side of your mouth with Johnny's fingers inside, and you probably already look fucked with red bitten lips and messy hair. "More, more." you plead, but the sound coming out of your mouth is incomprehensible. Johnny seems to understand, because another finger joins the first. He moves his hand slowly, and he is not looking for your g-spot, no, he tries to get you to lose your mind. And honestly ? He is going to succeed.

"Oh, are you crying princess ?" he asks, and you finally feel the tears rolling down your cheeks from frustration. He takes his fingers off your mouth, a string of saliva connecting them to your lips. It's absolutely disgusting, but at the same time, it is arousing. "Please, fuck me John." your voice is broken, throat sore, and yet you haven't even put it to good use. "Eager." he whispers.

Yes, you are eager. You need to feel more of him, to feel everything or you'll really go crazy. You sit up on the table, and wince at the wet feeling between your thighs. And was it that hot outside earlier or is it just your inside boiling? Your hands find Johnny's belt, and you drop it to the floor, before unbuttoning the pants. He slides down Johnny's muscular legs, and with a kick he completely take them off.

His cock is straining in his boxer and it makes your mouth waters a little more. God, you can't wait to have it in you. You palm him through it, and he exhales loudly. "You're so big John." of course he smiles, and you take his boxer down. He is thick, and long and you flick your wrist a few time at the head. You spread precum down his lenght, and when it gets too much, Johnny grabs your wrist. "Enough. Lay down."

You lie down on the table, and you try to find a position that won't break your back, but it's difficult. Fortunately, Johnny didn't put you near the candles, or the plates. Johnny spits into his hand to lubricate his cock some more, and you close your eyes when you feel the head against your hole. Slowly, he eases himself inside and you moan lowly. "Oh fuck."

He bottoms out, and he stays still. As eager as he is, he doesn't want to hurt you and you are thankful for that. "Move, please." he doesn't need to be told twice, so he starts to move. It's slow, but soon enough, it's deep and your hands find his arms. Your nails probably leave crescent marks, but you don't care, and he doesn't either because he growls when he feels the sting.

He pulls back until all you have inside is the head, and he slams his hips against yours. The noise you let out is loud, and lewd. Your neighbors probably picked up of what was happening and it makes the all moment way more exciting. His thrusts are more brutal, and you roll your eyes. You can already feel the heat in the pit of your stomach and it is embarassing how quick you could reach your climax but Johnny is good. Yes he is really good. "You're so tight, it's like you were made to take my dick." you moan at that, who thought he would have a dirty mouth.

"Yes yes, just for you." you mumble and his hand finds your throat. He doesn't apply any pressure, but the feeling of his fingers is maddening, like his pace. Your legs are shaking, and Johnny is smiling. He feels how you squeeze around his cock and he knows you're close. He is too, he can almost taste his orgasm on the tip of his tongue. He frowns when your hand lands on the one around your throat, but he quickly understands. "Slut." he presses his fingers to cut your air flow and it seems to do the trick because without any warning, your orgasm washes over you.

You see stars, and you whine because of the oversensitivity but Johnny doesn't really care, right now, he is chasing his own pleasure. When he feels it, he pulls out, which makes you sob. You wanted to feel so full, so so bad. "Later baby." he strokes his cock over your tummy and he cums with a loud moan. Long strikes of white land on your skin.

Johnny stops his movement, and he drops on the chair behind him. He is breathless, his hair stick to his forehead and his chest is glistening with sweat. "Fuck." you sit down, wincing at the pain in your back. You run two fingers through the cum on your stomach, and when you know Johnny is watching you, you slip your fingers in your mouth, licking them clean. He groans, throwing his head back. "You're so fucking dirty, you're going to make me hard again."

"We should shower." you say, and he nods. Before he can run inside the house, you make grabby hands toward him and he rolls his eyes. "You're such a baby !" but he still helps you on your legs and hold you close while you tell him where the bathroom is.

After another round in the shower, you find yourself tucked in bed, your head on Johnny's chest. His breathing is steady, so as yours. You haven't feel so relaxed in a long time, and you know it is the same for Johnny. He kisses the top of your head, a peaceful smile on his face before yawning. "Yes, maybe I should have kissed you that night." is the last thing he says before both of you are too tired to keep your eyes open.

That's what you wanted to hear. You have him wrap in your daisy chains.

When you open your eyes, the first thing you feel is the emptiness next to you, and the coolness of the sheets. For good measure, you roll on the other side of the bed, and you inhale the scent on the pillow. Yes, Johnny did spend the night here, it was not just a mirage. You sit up, a pout on your face. Has he already left? And without a word? Your heart tightens at the idea.

You want nothing but to get some more sleep, to forget Johnny's absence, but voices are suddenly reaching you. You get up, grabbing the first clothes you can find, and walk to the kitchen. It smells like pancakes, and you close your eyes for a second to enjoy it. You have barely entered the kitchen when your gaze falls on Johnny and Ten. They talk while cooking. Ten nudges Johnny with his shoulder to push him off the stove before he burns the pancakes on the pan.

"Good morning ?" you ask, and two pairs of eyes turn to you. Both boys smile, and you bite your lip when you see the marks on Johnny's neck. He is even more attractive in the early morning, which is not fair. "Oh, good morning Yn! Johnny was ready to set the kitchen on fire when I got home, so I'm helping him with breakfast!" Ten says.

Johnny puts the wooden spatula on the counter even though he only used it to hit Ten, and he walks in your direction and you tilt your head. "I thought you were gone." you mumble and he cups your face in his hands. "Why would I have done that?" he leans over and kisses you tenderly. You are not going to lie, you feel your heart racing, but you push this feeling very far. "Can you stop? Not everyone is happy and in love, it's disgusting!"

Johnny laughs against your lips at Ten's words, and he pulls back, taking your hand, and leading you into the kitchen. "Sit down." you take a seat on a stool around the kitchen island, and Johnny puts down some fruit he has sliced, and some orange juice all under Ten's disgusted gaze. "Don't be jealous Ten, you'll find someone as perfect as Yn someday." This hurts more than you would have thought, because you are not perfect, you are not even close. Johnny is just too good.

After that night together, the dynamics of your relationship changed completely. From childhood friends, you became lovers. And everyday you feel horrible. You don't deserve Johnny, he's way too good. And even Ten is catching up on the situation. When Johnny is at home, and he's around, he gives you sideways glances, and when you're alone, he asks you every time if it's a good idea to continue. Yes it is. It's too late to turn back.

Today is Johnny's last day. Tomorrow he will be flying back home, and in a few days he will be back behind his desk running one of the biggest companies. And you see it by the way he talks, the way he's lost in his thoughts, that he's wondering what will happen with you after that. Because he knows what you think about the idea of ​​officially landing somewhere. This is a discussion you must have, and now is the best time.

You walk on the beach with Johnny, your fingers intertwined. And you couldn't ask for better company. "So, did you pack your bags?" you ask, and he remains silent. The beach is almost deserted, except for couples enjoying the last rays of the sun. "John?" you stop, and he follows you, turning to you. "Is everything okay ?"

He remains silent, but he opens his mouth to speak. "Summer relationships often have no future. When summer is over, so does the relationship." his voice is low, and his gaze is on the sand which he finds extremely interesting. "Why do you say that ?" you ask and he shrugs. "That's what it is, isn't it?" you put your hand on his cheek, and he finally lifts his head. You smile softly, his expression is painful, but you intend to make him smile very quickly.

"Maybe it's like that for other people, but that doesn't mean it has to be for us, don't you think?" at your words, his eyes open wide, and you can't help but smile. "You can be the reason I stop running. I can be the person waiting for you at home at night, what do you think?"

Johnny doesn't need to think, that's what he wants. He never wanted something as strong as having you by his side. When he decided to take a vacation away from work, he never thought he would fall in love with someone as surprising and incredible as you. "I think it's a really good idea." he leans over and kisses you. The situation looks really cliché, a passionate kiss on the beach, as the sun sets after making a decision that will change your lives. And yet, you don't mind. And god damn it you wish it was all true.

"Come home with me." he whispers against your lips, and the word "home" is enough to make your heart beat faster. You never thought of having a house, a place where you could be happy, too adamant on working more, but Johnny makes you want that life. It's chaos in your head. On one hand, you feel ready to put an end to your little illegal career, but on the other hand, you don't know if you will end up getting bored of this well-planned little life. You don't want Johnny to suffer when you decide to leave in the middle of the night.

"Okay .." you answer, and Johnny's smile is so beautiful and so bright that you force yourself to put the future in the back of your head. You allow yourself to take advantage of this moment of peace when the world no longer exists. Nothing exists except you and Johnny. Nothing. No one.

You did it.

In the hour following your talk on the beach with Johnny, you told Ten you were going to leave with Johnny. Ten didn't say anything, but you read the many questions he had on his face. Of course, you didn't leave him on the street. You gave him money, enough to live more than comfortably for the next few years, and you said goodbye to each other. Not for long, because Ten decided to rent an apartment near you, at least while he figured out what to do with his life.

As for you, you moved in with Johnny. Of course, he gave you the choice. You could either stay as long as you needed to find an apartment, or you could stay officially. And you chose the latter. Life with Johnny is calm, and passionate at first. Of course, the start of a new love is always amazing, passionate, and raw. This is the time when you get to know each other in every way possible, the time when you see if you are truly meant for each other.

And ... it hurts you to admit it but you and Johnny are meant to be together. A match made in heaven. You have different characters, but you complet each other in a way. Johnny changes. He comes home earlier, and he's a lot less stressed because he has someone waiting for him. And he's never been happier. Everything is perfect.

Except it isn't.

Ten is bored, and so are you. You often find yourself in his small apartment to talk about the years you spent together. And yes, you miss it. Johnny gives you everything you could have dreamed of, but not the adrenaline rush you crave every day. You need this, it's an addiction.

"I can't kill him, Ten. As much as I want to go back to our old life, I refuse to hurt him." you whisper one evening when Johnny had to leave in a two days business trip. "So don't kill him. Spare him." you laugh bitterly. "And what am I supposed to do then?" Sometimes Ten wonders how you managed to last almost two years without him, and when he tells you about his plan, you wonder too. You've wanted to get rid of him so many times, and yet he's the voice of wisdow you need.

Today is the day.

You are in Johnny's arms when you open your eyes. The sun is not up yet, you can see it through the curtains. Johnny's body radiates a pleasant warmth, and it takes a lot to lift yourself off. You watch him sleep peacefully for several minutes, sliding your fingers over his face, as if you want to memorize every detail. You lean over and kiss his lips. Pink and plush like the first time you kissed him.

"I love you."

You get up in silence, and you walk towards the guest room. Johnny never comes into this room, that's why you left your suitcases without being afraid he would find them when he came back the night before. You bring them near the front door, being careful not to knock them, or trip down the stairs. Finally, everything is ready. It is time. But first, you make one last stop by the room. Johnny hasn't moved.

You put a letter on the pillow where you used to sleep. It's the first thing he'll find when he wakes up. You could have texted him before throwing your phone in the trash, but that's more sincere. It is time. You open the door, and you see Ten waiting in a rental car near the house. He goes out, and in silence, he helps you put your suitcases in the trunk.

"Let's go ?" he asks, and you nod. And as the car drives off, Johnny is awakened by the noise. He turns around, ready to hug you back to sleep, but he can't find anyone. His fingers scratch a piece of paper which he grabs. He rubs his eyes with his free hand, and he turns on the bedside light.

"Johnny, I love you. I love you more than I have ever loved anyone, and I know that will never change. We will meet again when the time is right, I promise. I'll always find you." Johnny's voice is low, and suddenly, a sob echoes in the empty room. And in the car. The sound of broken hearts.

Another five years passed since you've last seen Johnny.

He tried to contact you, but each time he encountered a robotic voice telling him the number was not available. He tried to look for you, to look for Ten, but each time he found nothing but emptiness. He hired a private investigator, and he was close to finding you, but you noticed him before he noticed you. And after that long, crazy year, Johnny gave up.

On your side, you continued to travel with Ten. He never left you, and you were delighted about it. And also grateful. You don't know where you would be without him, as annoying as he is. But after five years, you feel it, it's time for you to quit. Ten has found love, and he plans to settle down and have a family. And you know love is waiting for you somewhere in an office, stressed and tired from several sleepless nights.

You don't regret anything. You have been lucky enough to travel the world, and have enough money for three more than comfortable lives and not once have you had problems. Of course, you don't know what the future holds for you on the legal side, but you don't think about it. You never thought about the future too seriously, you don't intend to start, not from that side. You have other things to do.

You have to find Johnny.

Finding Johnny isn't difficult in itself, but approaching him is. You can't afford to enter the Suh building, not without an appointment or for no good reason, so you decide to do what you can do best. Walk into people's lives without them asking for anything, but this time with Johnny's apartment. He hasn't moved, probably too busy for that, and it's not difficult for you to open the door.

Nothing has changed. The same photos are hanging on the wall, and it doesn't seem to have taken more than the last time you saw them, and if the apartment had become more cozy when you were there, it's forgotten. No more soft blankets on the sofas, plants on the furniture, flowers on the table. Just a model apartment. Tonight is like waiting for a new prey, you don't know how long you will have to wait before seeing them, how long they'll take to get home.

First you should stop referring Johnny as a prey. This life is behind you, and even if you can't explain it to him, you intend to make him understand too. You prepare the meal, and you set the table. You put out candles, and you sit down while waiting.

It is almost midnight when the door opens. If the living room lights weren't on, Johnny would probably have gone to bed without even having a bite to eat, but luckily he is caught by the light. He walks into the dining room, careful. He frowns when he sees you, but his expression changes to surprise. You get up to take a step in his direction. He's not moving, he's just watching your every move.

"Good evening, Johnny." you say in a soft voice, and you help him to get rid of his jacket that you put on the back of a chair. He remains silent. "I made dinner, I hope you're hungry." he sits on the chair you occupied a little earlier. "What are you doing here ?" he finally asks, and you breathe. You were starting to fear his reaction.

"I told you I'd find you again when the time is right. And it is."

[onomonopetabread]

Declawing the Cat - Chapter 3

(Sorry it took so long guys, between testing and homework and executive functioning, I could NOT get this done. Anyways,

“Father, do I have to go?” Adrien asked for the hundredth time.

“Of course Adrien. I refuse to go on a business trip as important as this one without you. You’re my son.”

Felix rolled his eyes. He and his mother were visiting the two bachelors (against his actual will, obviously). Everyone in the room knew the real reason why Adrien had to go; he was the face of the brand, and it was common fashion knowledge that to go to such a high-ranking event without your leading model would get you shunned and cancelled. ‘You’re my son’ EVERYONE’S arse.

It was obvious that Adrien was all too aware of this fact, because he couldn’t seem to run out of excuses for why he couldn’t go.

Well, he could also not wish to go because of how brain-numbingly boring the whole affair is, and honestly, who could blame him? This year’s Annual Pre-Junior’s Fashion Competition Assembly was being held in Sydney, and all of the biggest names in the industry were going to attend. The assembly takes place over the course of two. Entire. Months. For what, not even the attendees know. Felix swears, these designers were as mad as a bag of ferrets.

I mean, if you’re into that sort of thing, like Miss I’m-all-that Ginger Breadhouse, you’d probably be in Seventh Heaven there, but if you were, how do you say, normal, you’d sell your soul to be another else. In fact, Felix could almost bet Chat Noir’s Miraculous that Adrien would sign that demonic contract in a heartbeat if that were an option.

“But Father, what about school? I’ll miss so much instruction-”

“Natalie will tutor you, just like she did before you attended that … institution.”

“And my fencing practice? Surely, you wouldn’t want me to miss out on those.”

“Adrien, are you suggesting that they don’t have fencing areas in Sydney?”

“No, I’m just saying that fencing without Kagami wouldn’t be the same…”

“Well, you aren’t going to be fencing with her forever, so think of this as a sample for the future. Now, no more of this arguing, Adrien. You are going to the Assembly and that’s final. Have I made myself clear?”

Adrien’s shoulders slumped in defeat and for a heartbeat, Felix felt sympathetic. “Yes, Father.”

“Good, now go pack some clothes you will need for the weeks. We won’t be at the events the entire time, so I will permit you to bring some of your own wardrobe. Please remember we will be there for a long time, so pack accordingly.”

And with that, they were all dismissed. Adrien trugged upstairs looking particularly peeved. He invited Felix to come with him, and Felix agreed, but only to keep up appearances. If he knew any better, Felix would have sworn that he heard him talking to someone on the way up, but he decided to ignore it; he couldn’t be bothered to guess what weird habits his wanker of a cousin had.

Once they got to Adrien’s room, Felix sat himself down at the piano while Adrien took out a suitcase from his closet and started choosing some informal clothing for when they were just doing day-to-day activities.

“Can you believe that he’s making me go, Felix?”

“Yes, I can believe it.”

“AND we have to leave tomorrow! I won’t even get the chance to say goodbye to our friends.

“Not to worry, cousin dearest. I’ll tell them for you. Anyways, don’t look at this trip as a burden, look at it as a new opportunity. You can gather information and resources for your friend Marinette.”

Adrien’s face brightened at the mention of his friend and Felix rolled his eyes when his back was turned. He swears, all it takes to cheer him up was to be reminded that Pigtails was alive and well somewhere on the planet.

“You’re right, Felix! This way I can help her pursue her dreams! I can’t wait until we get back to tell her everything I’ve learned about the industry.”

“...Can’t you just text or call her?”

“You mean with my phone?”

“No Adrien, I mean with a plastic banana you can buy at the baby store. Yes I mean your phone!”

Adrien paused in the middle of folding a t-shirt and packing it into a suitcase. “I didn’t tell you? Father confiscated it for ‘my own good’. He thinks I spend too much time around my friends and not enough time focusing on my studies, so it’s with him for the time being.”

Well, there goes Felix’s plan to pull a quick cell prank before Adrien leaves. “Adrien Bartholomew Agreste, is that resent I hear in your voice?”

“Yes, it is. I’m tired of responsibilities and having people depend on me every second that I breathe. That’s why I wanted to go to school in the first place; it gives me eight hours of non-Agreste related freedom.”

Felix narrowed his eyes. What did this boy know about responsibilities? All he had to do was play a keyboard, wave a stick around, and look pretty for pictures. Felix couldn’t understand how a job like that could burden someone so badly.

“Goodness, Adrien. You make it sound as though Uncle asks you to carry the weight of the entire ever-loving world on your shoulders.”

Adrien sighed. “That’s just how I feel, sometimes. Anyways, I think these are all of the casual clothing Father will let me take with me. Maybe if I’m lucky, he might not see the video game I hid under them all.”

The next day was a Saturday, so Felix the delivery boy was going to have to give the mega-twits the message at a later time. Today, it was all about acting as emotional as he could for the departure of his Cousin & Co. gabriel thought it would be a good idea for Felix and his mother to stop by the mansion every once in a while to make sure everything was all right, accounted for, and in the case of the house plants, watered. This was news to Felix. He doubted his uncle was even a living being, let alone the type of person to have plants in his home. Right now, they were standing next to the family limo. Natalie and gabriel were talking to Ape Man about transportation in Australia.

“Oh, darling Adrien, I’m so sad to see you go. We only just now got here, and you’re leaving. Why must the fates keep up apart?”

“It’s alright, Aunt Amilie. We’ll be back before you even realize we’re gone.”

“We? Oh, I wasn’t talking about your father, dear. I wouldn’t mind some time away from him. Anyways, I hope you have the best time in Australia. Bring something back for me, will you? I’ve always wanted to get a real boomerang, ever since I was a young girl.”

“I’ll be sure to get you the best boomerang in the country, Aunt A. What about you Felix? Do you want me to get you anything?”

Felix, who was standing some ways behind the others, pretended to ponder it over. “Bring me a friendship bracelet.”

“...A friendship bracelet?”

“If you can’t find one it’s okay I really don’t mind-”

“No, I’ll get you a bracelet. I was only surprised because you aren’t really the type to want one.”

He’s right- there was no way on Good Green Earth would he want some dingly little arts and crafts project. There also wasn’t any way that maybe he wanted his cousin thinking about him during his trip, that he wanted to envision Adrien getting something for him. Don’t even think about considering that Felix felt bad for him, dealing with the devil himself in a new place and wanting to give him something to do. Nope. Not a chance. Felix simply thought that Adrien would look hilarious running around Australia looking for beads and twine.

“...Just make sure you make me a good one, alright?”

Adrien smiled as though he could read right into Felix’s mind, and of course he had to look completely handsome in doing so. Stupid model. They practically had the same face and somehow Felix ended up looking like the off-brand knockoff.

“Adrien, we have to go now. The plane leaves in five hours,” gabriel said, entering the car.

“Why do we need to leave so soon?”

“So that I can buy fabrics with threads, gather all of my designs, double check with Natalie that the suite is still booked for us-”

“Alright, Father. I understand. Well, bye Felix. I’ll miss you.”

With that, he entered the limousine and the four of them drove away.

“Come Felix. Let’s go check the house for anything they might have accidentally left behind. We wouldn’t want them to leave something important,” said Amilie, still a little teary-eyed over the loss of her precious little baby nephew. She couldn’t stand the idea of being away from him for so long, even though his look-alike (her own bloody son) was right in front of her. Of course, Felix wasn’t bitter! Why wouldn’t ever say such a thing?

“Yes, Mother. Would you like me to check Adrien’s room?”

“Please, dear. Oh, look at you, watching over your cousin! And to think you said you wouldn’t like him!”

It was as though his mother never met him. Couldn’t she see that he was just trying to gain some sort of upper hand against Mr. Perfect or to uncover a secret of his? On the sunny side, at least he knows his facade is effective. He was beginning to worry that someone other than Blue-Eyed Phoenix Wright would figure him out.

Felix pushed open the door of Adrien’s room and immediately began to look around and turn things over. He was being extremely careful to make sure that everything he touched was put back in the place he got it from. After looking through his closet and library, however, he was disappointed to find that Adrien was actually as innocent as he seemed (and acted). In fact, the worst thing he could find was a disturbing amount of Ladybug memoria. It was a pity, really. Felix hadn’t blackmailed anyone in a long time, and he was beginning to get antsy. He turned around and headed out.

“Adrien, is that you? I thought you said you weren’t going to come back for another two months.”

Felix did a complete 180 and faced the source of the voice, which seemed to be some sort of floating cat-thing. It looked like a deer in headlights.

“You aren’t Adrien. Wait, are you okay, you seem to be swaying-?”

The thing was right; he was feeling woozy, and it didn’t take him that long to hit the floor, having fainted. The last thing he heard was the talking cat muttering,

“Shit.”

@myazael @2confused-2doanything @thecaptainthunder @thatonecroc @symwinter @mermaidreject @pink-and-bunny @kyrakitesong @your-number-one-second-choice @kayla0binow @hansa-12 @fc-studios @nom-the-king @thetrashypanda423 @chez-pezeater @supertomboyprincess @alyceeve @ceres-zephyr @swiftie-miraculer13 @justafanwarrior @marinettepotterandplagg @starlightshield @sandraf0612

[undercoveravenger]

Stone Guardian

Creature Week 2020: Day Three

Pairing: Gargoyle!Cato x Gender Neutral!Reader

Request: “Hey if I do this wrong please tell me so for creature week Cato x reader where he is a gargoyle (from French myths; they protect innocent and pure hearted people) maybe the reader was in trouble or something”

A/N: I made this one gender neutral, since the prompt didn’t seem to specify. Hope that’s okay!

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When you'd been offered a place on your university's art department's trip to Paris, you had jumped at the opportunity. You had thought that you would’ve had to have been absolutely crazy to have missed the chance to go explore such a fascinating city, but now that you were there? Maybe staying home would have been for the better after all.

Since you had arrived in the City of Lights you’d had nothing but trouble. The airline had misplaced your luggage, though miraculously the rest of your class’ things arrived without issue, the hotel had accidentally overbooked which left you sharing a room with the one person that had been making the class less enjoyable for you, and now this.

Your class had been taking a walking tour of many of Paris’ sights, you stopped for a few seconds to tie your shoelace, and when you looked back up, your classmates and the tour guide had disappeared. 

You scrambled to catch up, but found yourself quickly becoming lost in the busy streets. 

Eventually you wind up facing a large brick wall, the buildings on either side of you caging you in. Great, a dead end. Just what you needed after your already awful day. You turned around to start heading back the way you’d come, but found yourself hesitating when you noticed a pair of guys lingering near the end of the alleyway you had found yourself in.

Both men were clearly in decent shape, though they were arguing loudly, their speech slurred far more than you knew French typically was. A lecherous smile crept across one of the men’s face as he caught sight of you, “Bonjour, mon ami,” he called, stumbling closer to you, his friend trailing behind him. As they approached the smell of alcohol permeated the air, the scent almost as overwhelming as your looming sense of paranoia.

You knew that you could typically hold your own in this sort of situation, but you were on your own in a foreign country. Who knew what the police would do if someone were to report you for getting into a fight.

You backed away, raising your hands in the air placatingly. “Look, I’m not here for any trouble,” you said, hoping that the drunk strangers would listen. “I just got separated from my tour group and I’m trying to find my way back.”

“I’m sure we could keep you company until your group comes back for you,” the second man spoke, a sly grin tugging at his lips.

“That’s really not necessary-” You pulled a face, wincing as your back pressed against the wall behind you; there was nowhere left to go. You closed your eyes as the men continued advancing on you.

You flinched at the sound of a sudden thump in front of you, but you chose to keep your eyes closed, knowing that, with how your day had been going so far, you probably weren’t going to like what you saw.

“I believe they asked you to be on your way.” Your brows furrowed as a third stranger’s voice echoed through the alley; it sounded like he was between you and your would-be assailants, but with you at one end of the alley and the men at the other, your savior would have had to appear out of thin air.

The men muttered their displeasure, but they turned and left with no further issue. At the sound of their departure, you finally forced your eyes open and looked at your savior.

He was tall with ashy blond hair, brows drawn low over eyes that seemed caught halfway between grey and blue. He wore dark grey pants and a lighter grey shirt pulled tight across his broad shoulders. “Are you alright?” He asked softly as he cocked his head to the side, making himself look more like a confused puppy than the statuesque figure from before.

“I-” You cut yourself off, trying in vain to put your thoughts in order. “Yes, I am now. Thank you.”

The blond smiled, revealing a row of almost too-straight teeth with canines that extended just a little past what could feasibly be considered normal. “I’m glad. I try to help out good people when I can.”

You nodded, eyebrows furrowing as you glanced around. You couldn’t make out his footprints in the loose gravel, even though you could see the tracks left by you and both of the men from before. “Where did you come from?”

Your savior winced and your eyes were drawn to the odd shapes protruding up over his shoulders as they shifted. “I was nearby, so I figured I’d, er, drop in.”

“Is that so?” You were trying to keep him talking so you could try to get a better look at the strange things. “What were you up to?”

“I was just-” His eyes narrow as he notices your lack of attention, the appendages pulling tight against his back self-consciously. “Why are you looking at me like that? I’m not some freak show, got it?” His last words came out muffled by a quiet growl, eyes turning steely as he looked at you.

You shook your head quickly, trying to interrupt whatever his train of thought was, “No, no- It’s not that! You’re amazing.”

He looked confused and his wings fluttered unsurely, “You mean that?”

You nodded, slowly stepping closer to him cautiously. “Of course.” Your eyes widened as you got a closer look at him. You’d assumed it was the odd lighting of the alleyway casting strange shadows over him, but once you could see closer you realized that his skin was actually a pale marble. Miniscule cracks riddled the surface, years of wear having worn away bits of the stone near his joints and the edges of his wings. “I’m sorry I made you think I was afraid; I was just curious. I’ve never seen anyone like you before.”

The blond’s wings relaxed a little, unfurling slightly behind him and allowing you to get a better look at them. The membrane was thinner than what seemed possible for something carved from stone, rocky veins scattered along the length of them, and the boning was jagged, worn rough from what you assume had been years of flying. “I guess that’s pretty understandable.” He let out a quiet chuckle, “I’m not used to foreigners; most Parisians know a gargoyle when they see one.”

“Gargoyle, huh?” you mused curiously. “Shouldn’t you be, like, on a church or something?”

He laughed then, a full unrestrained laugh, “Yes, I suppose I should be.” His laughter faded to a soft grin as he looked down at you, “But we’re also meant to protect the good-hearted and I could tell you were in trouble.”

“Well, I appreciate the assistance anyway,” you grinned back up at him. You opened your mouth to say something, but were interrupted by the chiming of your phone. You groaned when you checked the message, and the gargoyle seemed concerned.

“Is everything okay?” he asked, brows furrowed as he looked down at you.

You shook your head, “I got separated from my tour group. They’ve just arrived at Notre Dame for the tour and realized I wasn’t there. By the time I find a taxi to take me there, I won’t even get to join the tour.”

The blond bit his lip as he thought, but he couldn’t hide the mischievous glint in his eyes when an idea struck him, “You said you needed to get to Notre Dame? Well, what if I said I could get you there quickly and even give you the behind the scenes tour?”

“That would be amazing!” You replied instinctively, awed by the kindness he had shown you thus far. “But I don’t understand- You don’t even know my name; why would you do all of this for a total stranger?”

He looked at you for a long moment before he finally spoke, “Because I can tell that I would regret not knowing you, and if I can help you, then I will.” His wings flared out behind him as he approached you and you suddenly had a sinking feeling that you knew what he meant when he told you he could get you to Notre Dame quickly. “My name is Cato, by the way,” he grinned, using your moment of distraction to sweep you off of your feet and launch the both of you up into the air, the lights of Paris sprawling out under you as Cato carried you off toward your destination.

[amyonrails]

Traveling to Sweden by train

Things are slowly calming down again so I decided to spend a one week vacation in the Swedish city of Gothenburg. I want to share this journey with people as I promised friends to take lots of pictures anyway and because it personally means quite a lot to me to finally get out there again. Not only is this finally a proper vacation after a year and a half of sitting at home a lot with the coronavirus pandemic making it unfeasible to travel anywhere farther than where the S-Bahn could carry me. But this is also my first international journey in just over 10 years. Finally I feel comfortable taking on such a trek and because I am apparently a bit silly and like trains I decided to do this journey (nearly) all by train.

Planned route

Now how does one get from Berlin to Gothenburg by train? The route I will be taking starts in Berlin from which I will first board an ICE (InterCity Express; the German high speed train class of DB) to Hamburg to change to an IC (InterCity; a high-ish speed service) which is a joint operation by DB and the Danish national train service taking me all the way to the Danish capital of Copenhagen. From there I can take the Öresundtåg (literally Öresundtrain) over the Öresundbridge across the (can you guess it?) Öresund between Denmark and Sweden. The Öresundtåg stops in the city of Malmö, where I get a high speed train by the Swedish operator SJ that will get me to my destination.

This is quite a trip with a few changes and because I planned this with change times of at least 30 minutes in case there are delays the whole journey will take about 13 hours. The straight distance between the two cities is about 580 kilometres but due to the detour over Jutland the distance actually traveled is closer to 1000 kilometres.

(the route vaguely traced in Google Maps)

I booked the tickets online a few weeks ahead and paid for all second class tickets about 70 € in total (and again about 70 € for the return trip). This was actually quite pleasant. The whole first part of the journey up to Malmö I was able to plan with the website of DB, which cooperates nicely with services of neighboring countries. The booking website of SJ was also easy to use, very user friendly and has a good English translation.

The paperwork

So because this is an international journey we have to consider paperwork of course. You can’t just travel to another country, surely there is a bunch of hoops you have to jump through, right? Well, because of the circumstances, kinda but not really.

First off: no visa required. I am a German citizen and am thus allowed to travel freely within the Schengen-area and the only required document is my ID card. And that is only in case I actually get carded. On train connections that is only done occasionally, but of course I will have my ID with me, so that will not be an issue.

Due to the ongoing Covid-19 pandemic it is also necessary to bring either a negative test result when crossing borders or a certificate of vaccination against the virus. Which I got. You can have it in paper or digitally and two weeks after your second shot you are free to travel again. No quarantining or anything. I got vaccinated anyway, so this was no issue at all.

Over all this got sorted pretty easily and I quickly had everything I need.

As a slight hint for anyone traveling to Sweden for the first time: paying in cash is incredibly uncommon especially in the cities there so I very much advise getting a credit card. I used a simple card I could charge with a bit of money, which I got from my bank with no additional cost and due to the limited money on it, losing it would not have been that bad as well.

Potential obstacles

But of course, stuff happened. Or rather, would maybe happen. I am writing this portion slightly ahead and at the end of reading this you will know, how it actually played out. As will I know, because by then I hopefully will have arrived.

Over the summer of 2021 the train drivers union GDL started talks with DB about raises and compensation over the additional hours drivers had done during the pandemic. Talks broke down though and thus they started striking.

There are more internal factors at play here as well but I am not in the know enough to properly judge or even explain the whole picture. But in the end it also does not really matter because I can’t really change it that quickly. So I have to live with the potential of the trains in Germany being canceled due to strikes. Only in Germany though. As soon as I reach Denmark I will be fine.

The strikes are not full time. They usually go on for two or three days and then normal service resumes within a few hours. And they tend to stick to work days. Which might mean I get lucky as I will depart on a Saturday. But I will watch the news closely and may have to rapidly come up with a backup plan.

Additionally and a bit hilariously I will have to switch onto a rail replacement bus on my journey to Gothenburg. Just on the weekend where I will travel they are doing some bridgework between Malmö and the town of Lund. This is certainly an inconvenience, but I just hope it will work out okay, as it is not that far to Lund. If this was not the case, I would have been able to make this journey exclusively with electric trains.

The strike

And of course it had to happen. On Monday the 30th of August the union announced a strike that would cover a whole week and with that, cover the weekend I wanted to travel on.

But no reason to panic yet. This gave me a few days to figure out how to navigate around this. By Tuesday afternoon DB had figured out which services would still be running.

I got pretty unlucky though. During this strike no DB service would run from Hamburg to Copenhagen. So it became necessary to find another way.

Thankfully I remembered the provider Snälltåget. They run a night train from Berlin all the way to Stockholm with stops in larger cities. Like for example Malmö.

And so for an additional price of just 10€ in total I got my DB ticket refunded, bought a ticket for the Snälltåget service from Saturday 7 in the evening to arrive on Sunday at around 8 in the morning and shifted the ticket I had bought with SJ to a train on Sunday.

Overall that was not nearly as bad as I initially feared and by Tuesday afternoon I had rescheduled.

The journey

Saturday came and in the evening it got time to head out. Due to the strike the S-Bahn service in Berlin was also pretty dodgy so I opted for a route with U-Bahn and bus. Which worked pretty well. The bus was a bit crowded but the whole trip was only a few minutes slower than any S-Bahn connection available to me.

Berlin central station is a very modern steel and glass construction that is very vertical with platforms going east-west above ground and platforms going north-south below ground. Due to the strike there were only few trains around but there were still some passengers taking the few trains in service.

(a view along the upper platforms at Berlin central station with the low sun shining through the glass roof)

About 20 minutes before departure my train pulled onto the platform. Four carriages pulled by an electric loco. Very quickly I had found my seat and was happy to see us depart perfectly on time at 19:02. But then had to stop for twenty minutes just after leaving the city behind, because unauthorized people were on the track.

For this section with Snälltåget I had booked the most basic seat. Fortunately the person who boarded the train in Hamburg at around 22:00 seated next to me found another free seat, so neither of us had to be crammed in our seats and attempt to sleep.

Ah yes, sleep. As this was a night train a reasonable thing to do is to sleep. Unfortunately a few things got in the way of that. Firstly, the cabin light in the open saloon was never turned off. It was comparatively low, but still bright enough to disrupt sleep.

And then came the stop just behind the Danish border. In the small town Padborg, the loco that had hauled us all the way from Berlin got replaced by a Danish locomotive. This is due to a difference in voltage between the countries’ catenary equipment. That alone would have been fine, but unfortunately the Danish border guards deem it necessary to check every single train. And if that means disrupting 200 peoples sleep each night at 2 in the morning then they will do it. Which is what they did.

(empty platforms at Padborg, only some bright lamps break the darkness in the dead of night while the border guards board the train)

(the sun is just barely rising over the flat and still dark Danish countryside)

During the next few hours I managed to catch a bit of uneasy sleep until the early dawn. Because I realized, that we were nearing Copenhagen I decided to just stay awake and watch the landscape zip by as the sun crept up. And it was worth it.

(banks of mist over fields)

Fields covered in mist like ghostly apparitions. And right as the sun really rose and made it easy to see, we crossed the Öresundbridge. A wonderful view.

(the metal frame of the Öresundbridge with the sea visible in the background, the sun is shining just out of frame to the right)

After the bridge it was not far to the city of Malmö. Unfortunately we were delayed slightly again. Slowly I felt like fate was trying to keep me from reaching my destination.

But because I was cautious this delay was not enough to mess with my plans. The train arrived slightly delayed at around 08:30.

(the loco that had pulled me through the bit of Sweden I had crossed this far sitting at a platform in Malmö)

I did not take time to look at Malmö central station, but from what I saw it is a nice station with the older platforms being complemented by a modern building housing some shops. But I had a bus to catch, so I headed for one of the exits.

Some helpful staff was able to point me to the replacement bus I now had to take to get to Lund. The bus trip, while a bit inconvenient was actually a nice change. And I got dropped off right in front of the train station an hour before my train was due to depart.

And that last leg of the journey was very pleasant. The X55 even in second class was wonderful to ride. Good leg space, large windows, pleasant decor and a comfortable ride paired with sunny views of the Swedish countryside. This train made it immediately clear to me, that Swedish rail has a wider loading gauge than most other countries and the cars are built accordingly with lots of room. Zooming through hills and past fields at not very high speeds was just a delight.

(a bit of Swedish countryside with fields and farm buildings under a blue sky, in the distance one can just about see the coastline)

And after about 2 and a half hours my final train for that day pulled into Gothenburg central station. Which is a wonderful old station that has been maintained very well. The main concourse still has it’s original dark wood framing and large murals show different old railway lines all under an iron and glass ceiling, which makes it feel large but still cozy. Even tired as I was, I was surprised by how nice this station is.

(the main concourse in Gothenburg central station)

(the front of Gothenburg central station in broad daylight)

From the central station one can easily get anywhere in the city with the many trams or a bus which stop just a hundred meters from the station entrance.

In conclusion

This whole trip is now about two weeks in the past and I had some time to think about it. In general I still think this is a good way to get to Sweden, especially if you are on a budget. Next time I want to try out a proper cabin with a berth on the night train, because I am just too tall to sleep in any way comfortably in a seat.

[writings-of-a-daphodil]

Fire Keeper: Chapter 13.5

Douxie x fem reader

Chapter 1

Masterlist in bio!

Series Summary: You are Jim’s older sister who is taking a break from college and has moved back home to Arcadia. You end up joining Jim and his friends on their adventures.

Chapter 13.5 summary: You meet some special siblings who are new to Arcadia.

You hummed as you admired a pretty suitcase. It was just your style and thankfully in your price range. You put it into your cart and continued shopping.

Now that you had decided to go to Europe with Douxie you needed to get some stuff. You were taking a plane in a few days so there was no time to waste.

You enjoyed how normal it felt to go shopping. You quickly checked off each item on your list and a few that weren’t. You weren’t going to risk being unprepared.

After you checked out you made your way to your car, unfortunately you had had to park far away.

The sun was setting and you were surprised by how much time you had spent shopping. Your stomach growled and you remembered that Jim was making your favorite food for dinner. It was supposed to be your going away meal since the both of you would be busy the rest of the day leading up to your departure.

As you loaded your purchases in your car you subconsciously monitored the auras around you and you would have continued to ignore them had two auras not stood out.

They weren’t like the soft and scattered auras of humans, the rough auras of trolls, or the clam aura of a wizard. At first glance their auras were organized and clean. As you studied them for longer you got past the first impression. You were able to sense the girl’s excited and determined energy and the boy’s nervous yet curious energy. The more you studied them the more you were able to glean about their personalities.

You looked for the source of the auras and found two kids around your brother's age walking towards you. You had never seen them before and while that didn’t inspire a need for investigating them, their odd auras did.

“Hi,” you greeted as they got near you.

The boy considered you for a moment while the girl shook your hand. “Hi, I’m Aja. This is my little brother, Krel.”

“I’m Y/n, nice to meet you.”

“Lively!” the girl exclaimed.

“I haven’t seen you in Arcadia before,” you stated, trying to keep the conversation going so you could continue to read their auras.

“We just moved here from Cantaloupia,” Krel said and that was when you became certain that there was something going on.

“Oh? I’ve never heard of Cantaloupia.”

Krel opened his mouth to say something, but he was cut off by a car alarm. You looked towards the noise and saw what you believed to be a robot. It gave off no aura so that was the most logical thing it could be.

You scoffed, first trolls and wizards now robots, what more did Arcadia have to offer?

Even if you didn’t exactly know what the thing was you knew what would happen when it raised its weapon.

You pulled Aja and Krel to the ground as blasts soared over your head. You were still struggling to use magic, but you did your best to summon a shield. Your orange magic lit up around you, keeping you safe from the robot for the time being.

You looked over at Aja and Krel, “So, I know what this looks like. I’m a sorceress and that means I can do magic. Um, please don’t tell anyone.”

“Lively!” Aja exclaimed. “Don’t worry your secret is safe with us.”

“Yes,” Krel added, “we know what it’s like to keep a secret.”

“Ah, so the robot is after you then?”

“He’s probably a bounty hunter,” Krel admitted as he fumbled with what looked like a protractor.

Aja grabbed her own protractor looking device and when she pressed a button it expanded to shield the three of you. “Cantaloupia must be quite the advanced country,” you mumbled.

“Oh you have no idea,” Aja replied.

“You can drop your shield, Y/n,” Krel said, eyeing the flickering dome.

You let out a breath as you dropped it, but there was no time to rest. You summoned your sword, though it took you awhile, and pounced on the robot.

It wasn’t focused on you at all which made it easy to fight. With that statement though it grabbed your arm tightly and threw you away from it. You tumbled through the parking lot and you were glad there were no humans around to witness the battle or to run you over.

You used your sword, which had landed near you, to help you up. You looked over to where Aja was attacking the robot, but instead of seeing Aja you saw a bright blue girl with four arms. You looked for Krel, and saw a bright blue boy lying on the ground. Things clicked as you ran over to him.

“You know, this makes so much sense,” you said, helping Krel up.

“What do you mean?”

“I was reading your auras earlier and I noticed that they weren’t human,” you explained.

“Watch out!” Krel cried pushing you to the ground as the robot shot at you.

“Thanks,” you said, Turing to face the robot. You ran at it, zigzagging to avoid its blasts. Now it seemed very focused on you, giving Aja the perfect chance to destroy it.

You walked over to the robot and kicked it to see if it was dead. Satisfied you walked back over to Aja and Krel.

“So where are you two really from?” You asked.

“A place very far away from here called Acaridian-five. We’re the king and queen in waiting. We had to flee after a coup,” Krel explained and you realized that Arcadia did have more to offer.

Your eyes widened in shock. You couldn’t imagine being forced to leave Arcadia. “Oh! I’m so sorry. Is there anything I can do to help? I’m really good at making up excuses if you need any.”

Aja smiled. “Thank you, we will remember that for later.”

You opened your mouth to say something else when a car drove into the parking lot. You quickly hid behind your car.

“Aja, we should get going. Varvatos will be worried,” Krel said, then he turned to you. “Thank you for your help.”

“Of course and if you need any help at all adjusting I’m here to help.”

“Thank you!” Aja exclaimed, giving you a hug.

She and Krel ran off, darting into alleys and hiding from humans. You smiled at the two of them, your older sibling instincts had definitely kicked in. You would do your best to help out those two. 

****

Tada! I hope you enjoyed this even though there wasn't any Douxie, this was for setting up a later chapter. A later chapter that I am very excited to write. Anyways have a fantasticly wonderful day/night and stay safe!!💖💖💖

P.S. if you want to be on the taglist feel free to ask. I hope it works and please message me if it doesn’t.

P.P.S. I'm totally open for requests on fluffy half chapters! If you have any ideas for the half chapters send them in and I'll do my best to include them.

[ateezmakemeweep]

richboy!seonghwa (part 28)

word count: 6k

angst

(part 27) (series masterlist)

you took the news of seonghwa's abroad opportunity as one would expect. with a sense of blame and guilt and overwhelming accountability. because you can't help but think that if you had never moved here in the first place, seonghwa wouldn't have considered it. he would've laughed in his dad's face at the prospect of going all the way to paris to end his senior year of high school.

yeosang informed you of the news the day after he found out, making you promise you wouldn't approach the boy or let him know that you knew. "he's telling the guys this weekend," he told you in the car, your hands intertwined as you stare at them sadly. "and he just told me to tell you, privately."

your eyes widen when you hear that, feeling a pang of hurt you know you don't deserve to feel in your chest. does that mean he doesn't even wanna say goodbye to you?

"w-when is he leaving?" you asked quietly, trying to contain the emotion in your voice. yeosang watches your lips tremble when he tells you next week, biting at your soft skin and squeaking out an "oh," that has his stomach sinking. because it's just a shitty situation all together, the both of you knowing you two have played a role in the boy moving away.

he told you how seonghwa had said his parents and family life had a big part to do with it, that he missed their company and wanted them to see him graduate high school. but the underlying sadness and tension that came from that dreadful night everything was revealed just gives everyone the sense that there's a little bit more to it.

"what?! is this because of yeosang and y/n?!" wooyoung boldly asked seonghwa over the weekend. he had gathered the loud mouth himself along with hongjoong and san to break the news, telling the three boys he wanted to talk to them about something.

"that's really the first thing you wanna ask, you idiot?" san whisper-yelled, smacking the boy upside the head.

"it's awfully suspicious timing, okay, he breaks down to y/n in a drunken stupor and-"

"wooyoung," seonghwa's deep voice says, his tone tight and serious but eyes dancing with the slightest bit of amusement; he could never genuinely be upset with the boy but fuck, does he never know when to shut his mouth. "thank you but shut the fuck up."

hongjoong snorts before he looks over the boy, asking him if that wasn't it, what were the other reasons? because leaving at this time seems like it had to have been something big. and seonghwa eventually told them the same thing he said to yeosang, about being lonely in his house and wanting to see his parents and thinking that a change in environment might be good for him overall.

"so it does have something to do with....everything that happened?" hongjoong asks lowly, not wanting to upset the boy but feeling something tight pulling in his gut; he hates to think that something as juvenile as that could've pushed the boy away. but he insists that there's more to it, that you, him and yeosang are on good terms and that he doesn't want any shit being talked to them when he leaves.

"we wouldn't do that," san assures quietly, liking you from the start but even more when you asked him to stay with seonghwa that night. it showed that you cared and were really looking out for him.

"yeah, no way," wooyoung agrees, doubtful looks from everyone being thrown his way. "what?!"

"anyway," hongjoong says with a smirk. "you'll need a going away party then, yeah?"

"this is it," seonghwa hums, gesturing to their four bodies in the living room. and after asking him one hundred times if he didn't wanna do anything more grand, before becoming a fancy european boy, they settled for pizza and video games and staying up until four o'clock in the morning the way they always did.

that next week of school, even given everything you'd been through, had been one of the hardest. because now, in a shocking turn of events, you were the one avoiding seonghwa. you kept your head down going to and from 4th period, kept your eyes trained on the board or notebook despite feeling his gaze on you at times; the one time he almost got you, you saved yourself with a tight-lipped smile and nod before awkwardly scurrying away.

"you're being a coward," mingi tells you at lunch that wednesday, watching your head snap back again at the sound of the library door opening.

you had told the boys of the newest seonghwa updates shortly after yeosang told you, both of them sad to hear seonghwa would be leaving; and bless their hearts, they hadn't even accused the reasons behind it on you. they wondered what could make seonghwa leave in the middle of his senior year, assuming his parents had something to do with it.

"according to yeosang, seonghwa said...we're a small part of the reason. but that he mostly wants to be with his parents and stuff." and whether the boys believed that or not, they'd never tell. but they would tell you that now, avoiding seonghwa before he leaves in three days, is-

"absolutely ridiculous, y/n, i have to agree," yunho says with a soft smile, blowing you a kiss when you pout at him.

"what am i even supposed to say?" you squeak, "happy travels, seonghwa! sorry my whoreish ways had to contribute to you moving all the way to france. but au revoir! enjoy the macaroons!" the blonde boy narrows his eyes at your self-deprecation, kicking you under the table harshly while the redhead shrugs his shoulder, lips quirked to the side almost like he's agreeing with everything you've just said.

"or maybe just like...thanks for being my first friend. hope to see you soon. good luck in a new country. if i don't talk to you, happy graduation. or maybe-"

"okay, i get it," you whine at yunho, knowing in your gut you're being stupid and annoying and very much like a coward, as mingi pointed out. but you know saying goodbye to him will absolutely end in tears and sorrow and you don't think he deserves to deal with anymore of that.

but he also doesn't deserve to start his new life with unresolved business. and maybe talking to him and saying a final goodbye could give you both the closure that you need. because through this all, you've realized just how much you pushed down your feelings for seonghwa. it doesn't take away or negate what you feel for yeosang, either, it's just something that you feel.

it's in the pit of your stomach and the center of your chest, how when you look at seonghwa you're reminded of how much he helped you. how he guided you and protected you and would've made you feel like you needed him to survive if you didn't have yeosang and the others to completely ground you.

these thoughts swirl through your mind for the rest of the week, friday night being one the worst. yeosang can tell you're distracted all night, eyes trained on the tv and food in front of you but just blankly staring. you smiled and laughed and kissed him but there wasn't your usual spark behind it.

your smile was dim and your laugh was forced and it was in the kiss he knew you weren't feeling right.

"baby, it's not your fault," he finally mumbled against your head, your cheek on his chest as you lay in between his legs. and stupidly enough, like this boy hasn't learned everything about you in these past seven months, you try to play dumb.

"what?" you mumble, not being able to see the way he rolls his eyes.

"you've been quiet tonight," he says, trying a different approach. but you only shrug your shoulders, nuzzling your face further into him as you inhale his scent. he places his lips on your head, humming against them and knowing exactly why you've been so out of it tonight.

because if seonghwa leaving wasn't enough, you refusing to talk to him was only making it worse. your boyfriend knows you want to, knows you're gonna need it to feel better about his departure and that you want to wish him well. he watched all week you become more and more tense and sad, the light in your eyes dimming every day.

"you didn't get a chance to talk to him, i'm assuming."

you only hum against his chest and it's taking everything in him not to be his harsh self and call you out on your shit. but he's allowing you to wallow tonight, for the next two minutes at least, because the news is hard for everyone. no one wants seonghwa to leave and live out the rest of his senior year with a group of strangers.

"did you plan too?"

you bite your lip so you don't snap at him to stop asking you so many questions, simply mumbling "i don't know," as you turn your head back to the tv.  and with a hidden smirk, yeosang nods his head.

"hmmm. well he's leaving tonight."

"what?!" you squeak immediately, flying up from his chest to look at him with wide eyes. the amount of panic and regret that floods into your veins is almost all consuming. "i-i thought he was leaving tomorrow."

"parents changed his flight last minute," he tells you, "should've left an hour ago."

and then without much of a thought, tears start burning at the back of your eyes and you open your mouth but can't seem to find the words to come out. because you fucked up. you fucked everything up in the beginning and you fucked the ending up as well. you didn't get to thank him or see him or talk to him one last time.

"why didn't you tell me?" you ask him weakly, hoping the crack in your voice isn't as obvious to him as it is to your own ears.

"would it have mattered?" yeosang asks, "would you have gone and actually talked to him?" and with the sad look in your glossy eyes, teeth in your lip as regret and shame crosses your face, it appears you both know the answer.

you fall against his chest so he doesn't see your tear fall, his stomach knotting and heart sinking when he feels a wet spot on his shirt; now he feels bad.

"then how 'bout you go over to his house tomorrow, baby?" you hear him say, eyebrows narrowing at his suggestion; what use would that do? saying goodbye to an empty house would hardly help the pit in your stomach.

"why would i do that?" you sniffle against him.

he presses his lips into a firm line, bringing his hand up to run it through your hand gently like he's trying to lessen the blow of his next words. "because he'll be there. the flight wasn't changed."

you pull back to look at him again, the angry face you're wearing with tears in your eyes making him wanna laugh. because you look pissed but still so, so sad and he thinks maybe you'll find the humor in this one day.

"what is wrong with you!" you squeal, hitting him roughly in the chest before scooting over on the couch. "you're such an asshole sometimes!"

and because those are words that leave your mouth once a day, he scoots over and throws his arm around you. "but you felt pretty shitty thinking you didn't say goodbye to him, right?"

you shake your head as your eyes stay narrowed at your boyfriend, his eyebrow raised curiously only making your brows furrow more; because how is he always right? how does he always get you to crack?

(and once you're in the right frame of mind, you'll look back and be able to see how much your boyfriend had grown in only a few weeks. a blow out fight happening that almost had you breaking up, to him convincing you to go say goodbye to the boy he once felt so threatened by).

"you're mean," you eventually mumble, letting out an annoyed huff but leaning your head against him; it really did feel shitty thinking that. "you could've just told me to go see him tomorrow."

a tiny snort leaves his mouth as his lips quirk into a smirk, knowing yeah, he probably could've, but that making you see it yourself probably would've been more effective. "well yeah but when i told you not to see him, you went and did it anyway," he teases, pecking a kiss to the side of your head. "so you had to see for yourself anyway. cry baby."

you pinch at his sides roughly and mock his "cry baby," when he yelps out, pushing you on your back to tickle and really get you back. it's the first time your laugh tonight sounds genuine and for that he's grateful. because he really doesn't know how tomorrow's gonna go.

luna's tail smacking you in the face wakes you bright and early the next morning, a delicate meow followed by her purr successfully rousing you from sleep. you pad downstairs with her trailing behind, giving her food before stretching out your body as you watch her eat.

"did you really have to embarrass me like that!?" you exclaim to her, throwing her down the second you get in the house. "you know today is a big day for me, luna, i'm starting a new school with snobby rich kids and what do you do! you run out of the house and into the yard of the most beautiful man i've ever seen!"

and if cats could talk and make human like gestures, the look in her eyes just tells you she'd stick her tongue out at you and say "too bad!" she even looked proud of herself back there, wrapping her trail around the boy's pajama clad leg like he'd done something so special and unique to get her over to him.

"you're lucky i'll probably never see him again," you say, walking over and bending down to the cat's eye level. "because i don't know if my heart could handle it. did you see him!"

she meows at you in a way that makes you think she's actually responding, rendering you an official crazy cat lady who's first interaction with a person here was nothing short of a disaster. but then you realize her food bowl is empty and it's almost an hour past her normal breakfast time.

"oh, you're hungry?" you sarcastically whine to her. "maybe you should've asked that hot pajama model for some food." but then you realize the way you're babbling to your cat is gonna make you even more late for your first day of school, running around the kitchen before up the stairs to get ready. you slip your feet into your black flats, not realizing at the time just how much grief they'd give you throughout your high school career.

you shake your head from the memory, watching luna eat as you lean your head against the wall. your feelings that day were so strong and new, that sweet excited but nervous twinge in your chest that flutters around a boy you're convinced you love at first sight.

because when you see someone and they're so unbearably attractive, you think it's only natural to feel like that. but then once you learn how nice and caring and good they are, if they are, that feeling only gets stronger.

and that's exactly what happened to you.

so what happened then? when did everything change and when did you start straying away from seonghwa? because on paper, thinking back and laying everything out in the open, you really can't help but feel like it should've been him.

you push that feeling in the very back of your mind, knowing in your heart that you made the right choice. that you can't go say goodbye to seonghwa with these frazzled, rambled thoughts in your mind and risk blurting out something you know isn't fair.

his flight isn't until later tonight but your fingers start to itch to text him around 11, distracting yourself by doing homework and cleaning your room until all of the anxious energy is about to make you explode.

he answers your text after ten minutes with an apology, saying that he was in the shower and of course you could come see him. you borrow your moms car again and take the longest route possible to his house without getting lost. but it's not long enough because then you're sitting in front of his house and your heart is nearly about to burst out of your chest.

what are you gonna say? what are the odds you don't cry the second you see him? very low, you think, given your track record. but you're gonna try your hardest, nonetheless. goodbyes are hard though and you've always sucked at them.

so after a few deep breaths, you turn off your car and put on a brave face. you stand up on shaky legs and make your way up the stairs, looking up at the chandelier and smirking when you remember how confused you were to see one outside.

you knock on the door lightly and find yourself counting in your head, getting to 12 before you see him standing there; and just like always, he makes your heart stop. because he's just that handsome all the time, something as simple as his natural dark hair and a black sweatshirt looking exquisite on him.

"hi," you both say at the same time. awkward, choked out giggles follow and immediately the air is charged with an awkwardness. it's not tense or overwhelming but the hint of it is there. buzzing between the both of you with the knowing fact that there's a lot of things you have to say to each other.

but even with that fact, when you're sitting in his kitchen and he's over by the sink with his toiletries laid out, you find that words are caught in your throat.

"sorry about the mess, i still needed this shit so i'm rushing to pack it now."

"oh no," you giggle, looking at the expensive face washes and lotions and not all that surprised he has a skin care routine; you suppose you have to in order to look like these absurdly beautiful people. "it's okay."

he smiles softly at you, organizing them on the side when he asks if you wanna drink. you decline with a shake of the head, your quiet "no thank you," the only sound in the mansion.

neither of you know where to start or how to begin. he doesn't know exactly why you asked to come here, just that he was really happy and surprised to see your name on his phone screen. you don't know how to approach the topic, wondering if you should beat around the bush or just come right out and say it.

and after a few moments, you decide that you've wasted enough of this boy's time.

"so..." you hear your voice squeak, shaky and scratchy but at least you got the word out. "paris?" you look up when you hear seonghwa chuckle, smiling to himself as he continues to arrange his toiletries.

you and yeosang are similar in many ways. vulnerable and guarded but also extremely strong and blunt. it's what he admires in both of you, even though it's made him feel more inclined to protect and shield both of you. yeosang from his parents and you from...everyone, really.

"paris," he confirms before casually stating, "five thousand miles away, didn't know it was that far."

and for whatever reason, hearing it in those numbers makes your heart pang with hurt. how is it fair that he has to go thousands of miles away? away from his friends and classmates he's known his whole life while you get to stay here? you can't help the tears you knew would surface from stinging your eyes, the whole morning not being able to put off the sadness and anxiousness within you.

"but it'll be good. my dad's friend has a son named yeonjun and he seems pretty cool."

"oh..." you finally push out, wincing when you hear your voice starting to break already. "t-that's nice."

but it's not nice, it's so not nice. this is all so fucking weird and this is all your fault. he took you in, welcomed you into his life and friend group with open arms, defended you and helped you and proved time and time again he would've probably done anything for you.

but you did nothing for him, nothing but almost destroy a friendship and break him down to the point that he now has to go thousands of miles away. five thousand miles away with this yeonjun boy who's supposed to fill in for san and hongjoong and wooyoung and yeosang.

he looks up upon hearing your voice and his whole face drops when he sees you. because he's all too familiar with the look you get before you're about to cry, glossy eyes and trembling lips, and he hates that it's what he's seeing ten minutes into this conversation.

"why do you look like you're about to cry?" seonghwa asks, immediately moving his products aside. "i...hate seeing you cry, y/n." because he's lost count of how many times he's had to watch it happen.

"i'm sorry, seonghwa," you respond immediately, overwhelmed by how fast and hard the emotions are hitting you. but the talk of the distance and the new friends, it's quickly bringing all the reasons why this is fucking horrible to the surface. how thinking about all of this makes you want to ask him to stay. because you know things aren't gonna be the same for anyone. not for you or yeosang or the group as a whole.

"what are you sorry for?" seonghwa asks softly, eyes narrowed in confusion but also desperate to figure out what's gotten you so upset so quickly. and maybe it's because you knew from the second you walked in, the horribly selfish question was gonna leave your mouth and briefly make you hate yourself.

"i just-i shouldn't even ask this but-" your shaky breaths cut you off and you can tell even through your teary eyes that he's, both, genuinely confused and concerned.

"what?" he asks softly, moving around the sink and about to make his way over to you.

"i...do you have to go?" you squeak out quietly. and the second you say it, just like you knew you would, you know it's wrong.

his feet immediately stop, his sharp inhale going completely unheard due to the voice in your head screaming at you. he adverts his gaze to the floor, swallowing the lump in his throat. because of all the things he thought you were gonna say, it wasn't that. he was hoping that was the one thing you wouldn't say to him or ask.

"i..can't help but feel like.....this is all my fault. you helped me so much when i first started and were always there for me but...i don't want you to go." tears prick his eyes at seeing you so raw and honest, seeing you cry and ask him to stay but then not be with you. "you should still be here with everyone. with san and yeosang and hongjoong and wooyoung. you should be able to graduate with them and walk with them and have a big, expensive, stupid rich person party."

he's surprised to find himself letting out a short laugh, always impressed by your way to make him find something funny even when his heart is hurting. because that's always what he thought was gonna happen. he thought he was gonna have that very big, expensive, stupid rich person graduation party.

"it's so selfish, seonghwa," you say and he can hear the frustration and regret in your voice. "i really shouldn't even be saying this to you."

he allows the silence to linger before saying, the way he's clarified ten times this week, "that's not the only reason i'm going, y/n." because even though it's one of the reasons, yes, a slightly bigger reason than he's letting on to everyone, it's genuinely not the only one. "i could've been going regardless of any...circumstance."

you sniffle, wiping the tip of your nose with your sleeve and you hate that all of those words just poured out of you immediately. but it's like seeing him, talking to him so openly about it is bringing back every and any emotion you had during these past months. that you were both avoiding in the form of tight smiles and polite nods.

"i'm still sorry," you mumble out and he shakes his head at your apology

"it's okay," he says, a humorless laugh leaving his mouth because he can't believe you guys are really here, having this conversation. a silence stretches between you both for the next few moments, your sniffling and his fingers tapping on the counter anxiously as his body rocks slightly.

but then your next words, or the words you attempt, have him complete stiffening. because you knew the stupid, reckless thoughts you had when feeding your damn cat were gonna come back to haunt you. because on paper, thinking back and laying everything out in the open like how you are now, you really can't help but feel like it was gonna be-

"i-i just... i really thought...it seems like it should've been-"

you can't even get the last word out, lips trembling and voice breaking because everything about saying that is wrong. but the environment and feeling between you two is too much, knowing there's been so much left unsaid and that there's only a few hours left to get it all out.

it's why he doesn't think twice about walking over and wrapping his arms around you. and it's then that you lose your composure completely, slumping against him as tears leak from your eyes. your face is pressed into his shirt with a scent that seems so foreign invading your nose, something like a distant memory. something that brought you such comfort and warmth at one point, remembering the way you used to bask in this. but now it just feels like it's breaking your heart, reminding you of what you once could've had and wanted.

"it's okay," he mumbles against your head, his hand rubbing your back gently.

but it's not. he's not okay. he can tell in the way holding you like this is making him revert back to how things were before that movie night. how if you finished that sentence, he really wouldn't have been okay and all the progress he made in accepting your decision would be erased.

and that's why he has to go.

he's still not okay being around you, not okay seeing you with yeosang. not because it's his friend, it makes him happy he knows the man you're with and that you're in good hands; it's simply due to the fact it's not him. because he had pined and pictured it and also really thought it was gonna him, too, at one point.

"it's not, seonghwa," you cry against him, "this wasn't fair to you. we weren't fair to you and-"

"stop," he says softly against your head, letting his lips linger on you, his nose softly inhaling the scent of your hair, before he finally pulls back. he places his hands on your cheeks, wiping at your tears with the pads of his thumbs and you sharply inhale at the gentleness and familiarity; he's still so gentle and soft after all of this. "it's not about what's fair or unfair. stuff just...happened. and it all worked out the way it should."

"but you got hurt because of it," you whimper, "i hate that i hurt you, seonghwa."

"someone was gonna get hurt eventually, y/n," he says to you calmly, surely, because he's gone over this reasoning again and again these past few weeks as he contemplated everything. "and i'm glad it was me."

when you look up at him with a broken expression, like you think he's just saying this to make you feel better, he continues. "yeosang...needs someone like you. someone to tell him when he's being an asshole, which is more often than not."

he's happy to hear a short laugh leave your mouth, watching as you wipe at your wet face and he thinks, hopes, that the worst of this breakdown might be over.

"and he's good for you also," he adds quietly. "he always told me you were able to take care of yourself, that i never gave you the chance to."

you lick over your dry lips, tasting the salt from your tears and looking up at him. you can't remember the last time you guys were this close, just looking right into each other's eyes and seeing a flicker of every emotion in them. because it's so obvious right now that this is hard for both of you. but that it's also a necessary evil.

"and we probably wouldn't have worked anyway," he hums lowly, his eyes roaming your wet face.

that was the fact that probably took him the longest to deal with. because he thought his love for you was enough, the love that had such an unnatural abrupt start and only continued to escalate. "he brings out something different in you. i was always so desperate to help and protect you. but you're obviously more than capable of doing it for yourself."

you think over his words and find that perhaps he has a point. he did always save you and help you before you were able to build up the courage to snap and do it yourself. but of course you were gonna accept his help - who wouldn't? it made you feel cared for and doted on and loved.

"so you're saying you made me a damsel in distress?" you ask, humor managing to lace in your shaky tone.

he smirks at words, remembering all the times you two used that term. whether it was you knocking stuff down or getting stupidly bullied or getting lost in his backyard, it really had seemed as if that were the case.

"nah," he mumbles and his smile makes your pained heart lift. "but i liked saving you and you gave me a lot of opportunity."

another wet giggle leaves your mouth as you nod, wiping at your face before gathering the strength to look at him. your glossy eyes roam his face and his eyes could make you burst into tears again, soft and caring and maybe even a little sad himself. with a frown on his face, he lifts his hand to your cheek and rubs over the red skin softly.

"so we're okay, yeah?" seonghwa asks gently, an eyebrow quirked up. "no more ignoring each other? or...?" he mimics the tight, fake smile you guys have been throwing each other for month, a laugh bubbling out of your mouth that causes a real smile to spread on his face.

"please no," you say with a giggle, watching as his head falls from your face. "it's been so awful."

"yeosang kept calling me a pussy and i guess he's right," seonghwa says, narrowing his eyes when you bite your bottom lip to not laugh. "'cause moving my seat was a bit of bitch move."

"especially after you forced me to sit there!" you squeak, poking his chest lightly as you remember the way his deep voice demanded for you to sit in the back left corner. "and were soooo cryptic about your name."

a chuckle leaves his mouth as he shrugs, his soft eyes lit up with amusement before he makes his way over to the sink again. he insists that he had to keep up a cool image in front of the new girl, knowing full well his true self would show in a matter of days. you giggle as you watch him fumble with his toiletries, asking if he needs your help packing.

and thank god he accepted because what a mess his suitcase was. clothes thrown in and folded messily, soaps thrown in with his chargers as that thought of them exploding put you into a frenzy. he tells you the boys are coming over in an hour and asks you to stay, nodding at him with a smile before you two completely rearrange his suitcase.

the way you're talking and laughing now is how you wish you guys would've been these past few months. it's all so natural and easy, no hints of awkwardness or discomfort making you both weird around one another. maybe it's easier knowing you won't have to see each other again or knowing that you'll have some months to recover from everything.

but you hope that good things wait for him and that when he does come back, you'll be able to continue your friendship.

the boys come barreling through the door as you're sitting atop the suitcase, seonghwa pulling at the zipper and visibly stressed that you might fall over. "it's literally fine, just zip it!" you squeal, throwing your head back in laughter watching him tug with all his strength.

"i'm trying! it's harder than it looks!"

"oh my gosh, they're actually talking," wooyoung whispers to san.

"i know," san whispers back, feeling his heart lift at seeing you guys interacting so easily again.

"i think they would've been cute if it wasn't for-"

a smack on the back of his head causes a yelp to leave his mouth instead. "wasn't for who?" he hears yeosang ask, voice deep but filled with amusement. wooyoung turns to look at the boy, a guilty expression on his face the second he sees yeosang eye's narrowed sarcastically.

"well don't not finish the sentence on my account," he says when wooyoung just continues to stare guiltily.

"yay! we got it!" you squeal, clapping your hands before your head snaps toward the boys. you smile upon seeing them, waving happily and making sure seonghwa does in fact have it zipped before going over to say hi.

the six of you move into the living room, plopping down on the couch as you all enjoy the last few moments with seonghwa. they tell you about their first day of high school, what a complete and utter disaster it was because san and wooyoung had almost gotten kicked out before fourth period.

you text mingi and yunho to come over and say their goodbyes before he has to leave, the two boys barreling in twenty minutes later. you smirk at close their arms are pressed together, yeosang craning his neck so his mouth is right by your ear.

"they tell you they're together yet?"

"not yet," you say, watching mingi's tall frame wrap his arms around seonghwa; he had been his biggest supporter.

"wonder when they will," yeosang mumbles, pulling his head back to yelp "hi pretty boy!" across the room. yunho smirks seeing mingi's head snap up and turn into a sneer, throwing up a middle finger that the boy throws right back. "because it's so obvious they are."

the group gathered in the living room eventually travels out to the front, the feeling that everyone knew was coming hitting them the second they see the car pull up for seonghwa. you lean into yunho watching the boy's saying goodbye, san and wooyoung clinging to him tightly and whining. seonghwa looks like he's in pain as he stares at hongjoong and yeosang, the boy's shrugging and just telling the boy to endure it.

but when they don't let go, the two boys pry them off and give him a much less dramatic, parting hug. because while it fucking sucks, they're not overly concerned. they know they're still gonna talk to him everyday and that soon enough, they'll see him again.

yeosang turns to see your teary self leaning into yunho, walking over and placing his hand on your shoulder. "are you okay?" you ask him quietly, knowing that when he nods and looks at you, that he's not. but that's something for you to deal with when you get back to his house, for now taking a deep breath and walking over to seonghwa.

you can only look at him as more tears burn behind your eyes and he immediately shakes his head. "no more crying," he says, a frown on his face despite the amusement in his eyes. you let out a chuckle, nodding your head as you two share a gaze that says it all. that maybe under different circumstances, you would've loved each other the same way and the time after the ski trip could've gone completely different. that you're sorry for everything that happened but know it'll all be in the past soon, because you know the boy behind you is watching somehow came to be the one for you.

even with park seonghwa being a person who is as close to perfect as someone could be.

"make sure you keep yeosang in line, yeah?" he mumbles, looking at his friend who only rolls his eyes. and when you nod, he pulls you into one last hug that you immediately reciprocate. you rest your head on his chest as his arms wrap around your body, his lips pressing a chaste kiss to your head before they brush your ear.

"he's gonna miss me, he told me himself. so if he cries, you gotta let me know, okay? i need something against him."

you giggle again at his teasing, smacking him on the back lightly before pulling back. "have a good trip," you tell him softly "and don't end up in anyone's backyard!"

a chuckle leaves his mouth as he shakes his head. "think that's only your thing."

you smile again, your eyes no longer teary as you look into his and it's something strange that calms him. that you guys have said goodbye and you're on good terms and that you walk back to yeosang who's still gonna have someone while he's gone.

and then with one last round of goodbyes, san and wooyoung being held back from attacking the boy again, seonghwa gets in the car and waves goodbye. tears pricks your eyes watching his friends look at the departing car, your stomach twisting in pain for them.

you smile sadly when hongjoong, san and wooyoung finally turn around, half expecting them to start reaming into you and blaming you. but they only walk toward you, yeosang and the two giant boys, all eight of you now standing outside of seonghwa's empty house. a house that holds a lot of memories for everyone that they hope, soon enough, they'll be back to.

"so..." san says, rocking back and forth on his feet at the sad, empty silence stretching between everyone. "now what?"

(part 29)

[namjhyun]

Hospital Playlist | Winter Garden

*SEASON 01 SPOILERS ALERT*

Remember you can find all the Hospital Playlist reviews/analysis filed in “hospital playlist reviews” tag at the end of the post.

It would be very difficult to talk about Jung-won without mentioning Gyeo-wool and vice versa. Their respective journeys have been intertwined from the very beginning and in ways we didn’t even know until the end of the first season of Hospital Playlist. Theirs turned out to be a symbiotic relationship. So, I decided to dedicate a full review to them.

Jung-won’s life was one of the first mysteries in Hospital Playlist. The drama introduced his character little by little and almost always thorough other characters to give us an idea of the kind of person he is. So, when it was revealed that he is the youngest son of the CEO of Yulje Foundation and Hospital, we already got the general idea that he was a dedicated and hardworking doctor, with a very particular (and hilarious) family situation that put him in the spot to take over his father’s place. And that he didn’t want that position at all.

Still, it’s pretty obvious Jung-won has a head for business. You can tell by the proposal he presented to Chairman Ju in the first episode when he transferred his family’s hospital stocks to him. In exchange he got lofty jobs for his friends and himself, and even complete control over the money coming from the VIP ward in the hospital. This is a man that clearly thinks several steps ahead. A man that goes the distance. A marathoner.

Right after his father’s funeral (in March) and finally free of the pressure of having to run his family’s foundation, Jung-won put that determination into achieving his childhood dream of becoming a priest.

Enter Jang Gyeo-wool.

When we were first introduced to Gyeo-wool, I remember thinking she was the opposite of Jung-won. While she was presented as blunt and aloof, he was tactful and a bleeding heart. Because of this I always believed the two actually made a good team and that they could learn from each other.

Now that the first season is over, I think that was Writer Lee and PD Shin’s purpose all along: to make the viewers connect the two, at least in a professional light at first, so that we would eventually start picking up subtle hints that something else might be going on between them.

Of course, Hospital Playlist exceeded my expectations because things started to be not so subtle pretty fast. For me it really was when Jung-won said that Gyeo-wool wasn’t his “cup of tea” that I started to think about them in terms of a possible loveline. But it was the scene of the maggots that really solidify it and I told everyone “He likes her”. Not for one minute I thought Jung-won was going to go through with his priesthood plans after that.

Soon, Jung-won’s good deed of helping his friends get better jobs backfired on him spectacularly: Lee Ik-jun, MD and Certified Cupid, was trying to find ways to win Jang Gyeo-wool’s favor in order to get her assistance in the OR. And since Hospital Playlist spent the entire first season letting us know that Ik-jun always knows what’s up, naturally he realized Gyeo-wool had feelings for Jung-won. And that they might not be unrequited.

The journey was slow paced and frustrating at times. With each episode it was more and more clear that Jung-won was going out of his way to keep Gyeo-wool at arm’s length. He was resolute to keep on track with his decision to become a priest and I commend him for it... but this is when his smoking became a sign that things wouldn’t be going his way. For someone who wants to be pure and closer to the Lord, that’s a pretty nasty habit. One that to me was always a sign of doubt. Bottomline, it’s a sign of his humanity. Another sign? His headaches. He was suddenly overthinking things and questioning himself.

I’m not saying Jung-won wasn’t sincere about becoming a priest but if he had wanted to do it, a man with his kind of determination, would have got up and leave. Instead, when he talked with the priest helping him with his journey to Italy, Jung-won kept pushing the date of his departure over and over again. Always prioritizing his patients. This is when I knew that priesthood was a dream idealized from childhood and I believe that in some place of his subconscious he was choosing this path in order to runaway from the pain of not being able to help all the people he wants to help. Fact is that at some point in his life he had fallen in love with his profession as pediatrics surgeon but his soft personality put him through much pain, specially with the most difficult cases. He had given up on hobbies like photography because he couldn’t stand to see the photos of patients he lost, and almost never took time off to do any of the sports he loves so much. When he did it was to support a cause like breast cancer.

My point is that I understand why Jung-won wanted to quit: he is overworked, stressed and tired of having to carry on his shoulders an understaffed pediatrics department. Add to all that he was also running the Daddy Long Legs program by himself, getting calls from hospitals all over the country, and that he was in a passive aggressive fight with his Mother that didn’t want him to become a priest. The only down time he was getting was when he played the drums with the band and went out with his friends. But even then we saw him get up and help the people running the restaurant. Yeah, he clearly couldn’t go on like that. Something needed to change.

His first move was to delegate the Daddy Long Legs program to Song-hwa. A wonderful idea and the first hint that he was up to something. Like I mentioned before: Jung-won thinks several steps ahead. And this was also around the time he had his heart to heart talk with Ik-jun. At this point of the story, it was clear to Jung-won that his feelings for Gyeo-wool were not going dispel and that spending time with her, watching her work through her hardships and getting to understand her, were only making him fall deeper in love with her.

In return, Gyeo-wool spent that time growing as a doctor, learning from Ik-jun and Jung-won on how to talk to patients and their guardians. Something none of the other doctors bother to teach her before because they all considered her competent enough due to her OR technique. She shed off some of her shyness and started to show her warmth, became bolder and more proactive to try to find ways to connect with people around her. She went from eating alone to always share a meal with other residents and/or Dr. Bong. She sassed Min-ha on her make up, kinda told off Jun-wan and behaved like a cutie pie around her honorary big brother Ik-jun. Gyeo-wool remained steadfast and composed through every professional and personal hardship, and her bluntness was no longer a weakness but a strength. I honestly believe that by watching Gyeo-wool in action, Jung-won learned a thing or two about perseverance and not running away but facing your troubles.

I also think Ik-jun didn’t tell Gyeo-wool about Jung-won’s feelings for her because he didn’t believe it was his place. Sure, he had his fun trying to get reactions out Jung-won and giving his support to Gyeo-wool but, at the end of the day, he knew it was Jung-won and Gyeo-wool the ones that needed to take matters into their hands and have a proper talk about their feelings.

When Mama Rosa witnessed that sweet, sweet, moment all the shippers were waiting for between Jung-won and Gyeo-wool, she saw her last hope. A last-minute Hail Mary. And while I think Mama Rosa put Gyeo-wool in a terrible position by asking her to stop Jung-won from becoming a priest, this was the first time Gyeo-wool got any indication that maybe her love could be successful. That her heart and instincts were in the right place. And despite the uncertainty that followed her through the entire first season, she went for it. Like the complementary sprinter she is to Jung-won’s marathoner. Watch out Usain Bolt.

What none of us knew by the time episode 12 started is that Jung-won had already made the decision to stay after the family of a patient thanked him for going the extra mile for their daughter. The past months of being able to have the 99ers as a support system at Yulje and having Gyeo-wool around to help him with his work, made him felt happiness and a new sense of fulfillment. For the first time in years, he was feeling the weight on his shoulders was lighter and his good friend Song-hwa could see it in his face. She knew all along he was in a crossroads about his profession. That scene in Song-hwa’s office was significant because it was the first time he voiced out his feelings and to his surprise, just like Ik-jun, Song-hwa knew all about his Lady Winter.

So, when Christmas arrived and Gyeo-wool finally musters up the strength to go to his office, everything comes together. Even though she thinks Mama Rosa is wrong about him having feelings for her or that she knows it’s not her place to interfere with his decision of becoming a priest, she still can’t let go of him. Meanwhile, he had decided weeks ago to stay at Yulje, in no small part because of her, and remained silent. He held back. Again! And fret over how, when or what to say - just like he did in front of the ER’s door- because he didn’t know how to start the conversation. Why? Because the fool himself put them in a strictly professional relationship by refusing to have any kind of interaction outside the cases they shared or the hospital.

But in that final scene at his office, Jung-won sees a vulnerable Gyeo-wool. Suddenly her emotional resilience is nowhere to be found and she is wide open for him to witness how much he has put her through over the past nine months. Even worse he realizes that she knew all along about his plans and said nothing. Gyeo-wool’s bravery makes him see himself for the coward he has been for the past three weeks. For the first time in the whole season, he stops overthinking, FINALLY does as his heart is telling him and jumps into action. Jung-won answers Gyeo-wool’s confession and request with tender affection, longing looks -that communicate he too has been struggling-, kisses and a hug. He didn’t need to say anything. Like Gyeo-wool taught him: actions speak louder than words.

[theladyofdeath]

Rags & Riches {18}

Summary: An A Court of Thorns and Roses Fanfiction. 19th century AU. Based on the prompt sent in by @cat5313 All characters belong to SJM, I am just a fan with a plot.

Warning: Mature content strung throughout.

A/N: Two more chapters. I’ll post 19 tomorrow night, giving everyone a chance to catch up!

Leave a comment to be tagged & tell me what you think! :)

The battle had gone on for over a week.

They spent their day fighting, taking little breaks, the troops taking the field in intervals, only stopping to sleep or refuel. 

Cassian and Rhysand were sitting on the edge of the camp, utterly exhausted, gunshots ringing in the distance. They each had a bowl of porridge, but neither of them took a bite.

“How much longer do you think it will last?” Rhysand asked, quietly.

“It will be over soon,” Cassian replied, “hopefully.” 

Rhysand nodded.

They still had the upperhand, the battle was in their favor, but Hybern was not surrendering. It could not go on for much longer. It couldn’t. 

“I got a letter from Feyre this morning,” Rhysand said. “Didn’t have time to tell you before we went out.”

“Yeah?” Cassian asked.

“Yeah,” Rhysand whispered. “She lost the baby.”

Cassian moved for the first time in twenty minutes, looking over at his friend. Rhysand’s eyes were hollow, the blood and grime covering the paleness of his skin. 

“Fuck,” Cassian breathed, “I’m sorry, Rhys.”

Rhysand nodded, running his fingers through his hair. “Yeah. I hate...that I’m not there, you know? She has to go through it alone. You should have read the letter...she was apologizing. To me. Like it was her fault.” Rhysand’s eyes lined with tears, he cleared his throat. “I have to get home, to tell her that I love her, and that it is in no way her fault. She thinks it’s her fault. It’s not her fault.”

Cassian sat quietly, watching, and let Rhysand sort out his thoughts.

“I have to make it home, Cass,” Rhysand said, his voice shaking. “I have to make it back to her.”

But he was so tired.

So fucking tired.

“You will,” Cassian promised. “We both will.”

The bell rang, their time for resting had ended. 

They set down their bowls, which had just as much in them as they did when they began. 

“Stay together,” Rhysand said, as he strapped on his helmet and picked up his gun.

“Yeah,” Cassian said, doing the same, rising to his aching feet. “Stay together.”

~~~~~

It had been two days since Azriel arrived at the port. He went past Illyria, knowing Elain was still with her sisters. Word of the war got to him often, news was always spreading like wildfire. The latest battle was continuous with no sign of stopping.

Azriel had constant anxiety, never knowing where Rhysand and Cassian were, never knowing how they were. 

But his heart eased, slightly, once he arrived in the drive of the Archeron Manor. He had only been gone a few months, but he was not the same man he had been under Isaac Archeron’s employment. 

Although he knew one thing did not change - he loved Elain Archeron. 

She was standing on the steps, along with her sisters, waiting for him. The moment she saw the carriage coming close, a huge smile spread across her face. She threw one hand in the air and waved, the other one cradling the little bump beneath her dress. 

Azriel laughed, breathily. She was so beautiful, so radiant. He had been without her for too long.

The carriage stopped and the cab door opened. 

Azriel hauled himself out with a grunt. He knew he was not in his best shape, covered in bruises and scars and stitches, his arm still in a sling.

Elain’s eyes widened at the sight of him, and he knew she was thinking the same thing, but it did not stop her from hurrying to his side.

“Don’t run,” Azriel laughed. “The baby.”

She threw her arms around him, careful not to hit his arm. Azriel tried not to cringe as her body pressed up against the wound at his side.

“I missed you,” she cried into his chest. Azriel pressed his mouth to her forehead, and when she leaned back, brown eyes shining, her lips. His fingers, shaking from the anticipation of this moment, pushed the stray locks of hair from her face.

“I missed you, too,” Azriel promised. “More than you know.”

“You look like shit,” Feyre announced.

But when Azriel looked up at her, she was grinning.

Nesta stood beside her and nodded her head in respect.

“Have you heard anything lately?” Azriel asked. “From Rhys and Cass.”

Feyre and Nesta both nodded.

“The day before last,” Feyre said, Nesta keeping quiet. “They are both well, but the battle had just begun when they wrote. I hear it is still going on.”

Nesta tensed, and Azriel nodded. 

“But, the good news is that you are home,” Feyre said, gently. “Come in. Sit. Rest.”

Azriel nodded, grateful, and trailed up the steps and into the manor, where he was greeted by Alis. 

“Lovely to have you home, my dear,” she smiled, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“Thank you,” Azriel began, looking to Elain. “It is good to be back.”

Even as he said it, that guilt for leaving his brothers on the continent ate at him. 

“I set out some tea and biscuits in the sitting room,” Alis continued, before hurrying away.

The four of them sat in the sitting room and enjoyed their afternoon tea while making small talk. Azriel did not know what anyone was saying, though, because all he could do was look at Elain. 

“Will you tell us of how you got injured?”

Elain flinched, but Azriel looked at Nesta. Where her eyes were usually cold, they were filled with curiosity and pain. She had to be thinking of Cassian, had to be wondering. He knew what it was like over there, but he realized that loving someone who was shipped off to war was not any easier. 

Azriel cleared his throat. “I - yes, if you wish to hear. The short story is...well, there was an explosion. I was not caught in the middle of it, thankfully, but it left me, well…” he gestured to his current state, before huffing a laugh. Elain’s hand tightened in his. “My side was...hurt, badly. I was unconscious. My helmet had fallen off when I flew through the air….” he looked at Elain, who looked as if she was trying not to cry, and failing. “I do not remember too much after that, for a while. I remember hearing gunshots, and Cassian screaming at me not to die. I found out later that Cassian had dressed my wound the best he could with his shirt while we were on the battlefield, then he carried me out, Rhysand guarding us the whole way back, until we had reached the safety zone. Then they both hauled me to the nurses, where they stitched me up. They said I had lost a lot of blood and if Cassian and Rhys had not acted so quickly, I would have died. They were both there, when I woke up, standing over me.”

Azriel looked away from Elain, back to Nesta. The eldest Archeron daughter sat tall, her back straight, her chin lifted high. She did not move. If it were not for the tear rolling steadily down her cheek, Azriel would have thought she looked like a porcelain statue. 

“We are grateful that you are alright,” Feyre said, voice quiet. “Grateful that you are home.”

Azriel smiled, but said no more, because Isaac Archeron cleared his throat from the threshold.

Four sets of eyes jerked his way, but no one moved, no one had spoken. 

Elain’s fingers dug into Azriel’s hand.

As Isaac approached, Azriel stood.

“Last week I was told of your…” Isaac began, his words dropping off. He looked tired, uncertain. He did not look at any of his daughters. “Take care of my daughter. Please.”

Azriel nodded, unsure of what to say, unsure of what had gone on within their family in his absence. “I will protect her with my life, and love her unconditionally.” 

Isaac nodded, looking Azriel up and down. “I heard what happened to you. You have served your country well.” 

“Thank you, sir,” Azriel said, chin raised.

“I hear you are to be a father.”

Azriel looked back at Elain, with her hands protectively atop her abdomen.

“I am,” Azriel assured him.

Isaac nodded, jaw locked. “I do hope you two will visit. With my grandchild.” 

Elain sucked in her breath, as she rose to her feet.

“Do you mean it?” she asked.

Isaac did not look at Elain, but his eyes clouded over with guilt. “I should not have said what I did the other night. I will admit that, no, this was not the life that I saw fit for you. But, after your mother passed...” his breath hitched, his eyebrows furrowed. “Well, after she died, it was up to me alone to provide the best lives for you. I took that role on without considering your wishes, or your happiness. Elain, you are happy.” Isaac looked into the eyes identical to his own. “If you are happy, and this is what you wish to have, then...well, I suppose I shall have to warm up to the idea of it.”

Elain threw her arms around her father’s neck and sobbed. “There is simply too much happening for my pregnancy hormones to handle!”

Feyre laughed from where she sat next to Nesta.

“Although, I assume there will be a wedding, yes?” Isaac asked, shooting daggers at Azriel.

Azriel cleared his throat, suddenly more uncomfortable then he had been before. “Yes, of course.”

“Well, when that time comes, I hope you have it here,” Isaac said, eyes softening. “Among family.”

Elain laughed, and kissed her father’s cheek before turning around to the father of her child. She laid her palm against his cheek. “You need rest, I need a bubble bath.”

Azriel smiled as he nodded. “Very well.”

The two excused themselves, leaving the other three in a long, tense silence.

~~~~~

Nesta stared at the floor once Azriel and Elain made their departure. Azriel moved slowly, as if every movement caused him unbearable pain. She could not imagine living through an explosion to tell the tale. Although, she was certain Azriel was not the only one, but also certain that many did not live to tell the tale, either. 

Just as she thought Isaac was about to leave, too, he turned to Nesta and Feyre, sitting on the couch.

“I am sorry for your loss,” he whispered, to Feyre. “I should have comforted you, asked how you were fairing. Emotional connection is not a strong suit of mine.”

Thanks for passing that along, by the way, Nesta thought.

“It is alright,” Feyre said, words clipped. “Nesta and Elain were there for me. So.”

Isaac nodded. “I know. I am grateful for that.”

Nesta cleared her throat. “Well, if we are done here-”

“I cannot say that I approve of your choices of….” Isaac trailed off, looking at Nesta. “Men. But, you are still my heir. You will always be my heir.”

Nesta gave him a curt nod.

When it was clear she was not going to say anything, Isaac bowed his head. “I love you both.” With that, he was gone.

Feyre turned to Nesta. “Are you alright?”

Nesta nodded. She was alright. Her father’s words did not mean much to her. In the back of her mind, all she could think about was Azriel’s story. I remember hearing gunshots, and Cassian screaming at me not to die.

“This battle has lasted longer than the others,”  Nesta said.

Feyre slumped against the couch cushions. “Yes, it has. But, they are saying if we come out on top, the war will be over. They will come home.”

Nesta’s heart ached, her mind was a mess of emotion and she loathed it. In his last letter, he had told her he loved her, had told her he could not wait to come home, to ride Marigold together, to sleep in one another’s arms. He had told her that he loved Wordsworth, and read his work every day. You are the love of my life, Nesta. If I can never say another word to you, know that you are the love of my life. I promise to come back to you. I promise, okay?

His words had haunted her as she sat there, listening to Azriel speak.

“They better come home, soon,” Nesta said. “I need to tell Cassian that I love him.”

Feyre’s eyes softened, and laid her head against Nesta’s shoulder. “He knows, Nesta. I promise you. He knows.” 

~~~~~

Azriel was lying in Elain’s bed while she took her bath. 

“Are you still awake?” she called from the washroom.

Azriel huffed a laugh. “Yes, but hardly.”

His socks and boots had been removed, as had his shirt. His trousers hung loosely around his hips, one knee drawn up as he rested among the pillows. 

He could hear Elain getting out of the water. “How much pain are you in?”

Azriel’s brow rose. “A fair amount.”

She came around the corner, wrapped in a towel. “Is there anything I can do? To lessen the pain?”

Azriel’s eyes followed her as she approached him, grazing her body. “We could think of something, I’m sure.” He pulled at the hem of her towel. 

Elain’s cheeks reddened as she bit her lip to keep from laughing. “You are in no condition to do any such thing.” 

“You would be surprised at what I am capable of after being away from you for months,” he laughed, sleepily.

She shook her head. “You should keep perfectly still. Rest.”

Azriel sighed. “But I promise, El, I can-”

Elain dropped her towel, forcing Azriel to forget every word he was going to say. She climbed over to him atop the blankets, and straddled his waist.

Azriel’s hand, the one that was not in the sling, reached to her abdomen, brushing over the small bump that had formed.

“There’s a baby in there,” he whispered, eyes bright.

Elain smiled. “Yes. Our baby.”

“Hmmm,” Azriel grinned, then whispered. “I cannot wait to meet you, little one.”

Elain picked up Azriel’s hand from her stomach and pressed his palm to her lips. 

“I know you said I was in no condition to fuck, but you are truly not helping the situation, whatsoever,” Azriel mumbled. 

Elain laughed, softly, guiding his hand to her breast. They had become significantly larger, Azriel thought, than they had been when he left. He brushed his thumb over her nipple, leaving her to take in a deep, steady breath. 

“You should keep perfectly still,” Elain repeated, undoing the buttons of his trousers and tugging them down, until they were discarded onto the floor. “Rest.”

Azriel watched her every move, amused, enticed. 

Elain leaned down to kiss him, softly on the mouth, then down his neck, to his shoulder, just below his collarbone, and down his chest. He closed his eyes as she kissed around the stitching that had been holding his side together. 

Her fingers brushed down his abdomen with a teasing gentleness, then she stroked him, softly.

His eyes remained shut as her tongue slid up the length of his cock.

He groaned, having thought of this moment every day, every night, for the past two months. She took him wholly into her mouth, Azriel only opening his eyes to watch her wet, brown-haired head bobbing up and down. 

Azriel muttered a curse as his head fell back down against the pillow. His free hand reached to the back of her head, fingers wrapping into her hair. He whispered her name, moaning softly. When he started to move his hips, her hands pressed down on him. “Perfectly still.” 

She climbed up his body, one hand pressed against his chest, the other guiding his cock to her opening. Elain pushed him into her, her back arching, head falling back. 

In Hybern, Azriel imagined being intimate with Elain more times than he could count. He would lie awake at night, remembering what it was like to explore her body. None of the times he imagined it, though, compared to the real thing.

Azriel sunk into the bed as she moved her hips, thriving on the soft noises coming from her lips.

He found himself in awe, hoping that he would never have to leave her side again.

~~~~~

Nightfall was approaching quickly. 

Cassian could feel every muscle in his body straining to keep up with his surroundings. At least he had Rhysand, the two of them fought alongside one another as if they were one. 

He could feel the end drawing near, he knew it. He saw much more of his men than Hybern’s, not that Hybern’s men were backing down.

“They are trying to finish off as much of us as they can before nightfall!” Rhysand called.

Cassian nodded, looking around.

It was the same thing, constantly on repeat.

Aim. Fire. Aim. Fire. Aim. Fire. 

He prayed it was the last night, hoped they would not have to wake at dawn and start again.

He was ready to go home.

He was ready to fulfill his promise to Nesta. 

They heard an explosion in the distance. “Fuck!” Rhysand yelled, above the chaos of guns going off and men screaming in agony.

Cassian looked around, scanning the men surrounding him. His men, mostly, those who were not came and fell fairly quickly.

Another explosion sounded. Cassian ducked away, as did the men around him, although it was across the battlefield. 

This is how it would end, then. Hybern would surrender, but they would kill as many of them as possible before they did so. 

Another explosion.

The ground beneath Cassian’s feet shook.

“Rhysand!” Cassian called, just as men began to run back toward the valley, toward camp. “Rhys!”

He looked around, frantically.

He couldn’t spot him, anywhere. Not through the chaos of retreat, there were too many men running around him.

Cassian joined the movement, eyes still wandering. “Rhysand!”

Nothing.

Cassian’s heart began pounding.

Another explosion sounded, this one so close Cassian could feel the impact rack through his body.

“Fuck,” he cried, looking around, moving with the crowd of soldiers. “Rhysand!”

Stay together. Stay together. Stay together.

Their mantra echoed through his mind. 

“Cassian!”

Cassian swung himself around and caught Rhysand’s eyes, wide and full of terror as he, too, was pushed back by his own soldiers.

Cassian started to push his way toward his friend, but another soldier grabbed Cassian by his jacket. “The fuck are you doing? Back to camp! Hybern’s men are gone, but they will blow up every inch of this land trying to kill us all before nightfall! We won, now haul ass!”

Cassian jerked out of the soldier’s arms, still trying to dodge around everyone else, covered in dirt and blood. He did not pass one man that was not exhausted, was not ready for it all to be over, was not covered in filth. 

They had won.

He had to make sure he and Rhysand made it back to camp, then they could go home.

He could keep his promise.

He would keep his promise.

Stay together. Stay together. Stay together.

“Rhysand!”

“Cassian!”

Cassian looked around, chest heaving.

Stay together. Stay together.

Rhysand was behind him, just as another explosion sent men and dirt flying nearby. Rhysand ducked, as did the men around him, arms over their heads, protecting themselves from the debris.

Stay together.

It was chaos.

Too many men, too close together, not enough room.

No direction, none but fall back.

Men were tripping over bodies, pushing one another out of the way, trying to drag their fellow man back.

Fall back.

Cassian’s world was moving in slow motion.

Rhysand was running. He saw Cassian. He was moving. Cassian was moving. 

Fall back.

He had made Nesta a promise.

Cassian held Rhysand’s gaze, hazel and violet eyes meeting in silent conversation. 

Stay together.

Another explosion sounded.

The world went dark. 

~~~~~

@throne-of-ashes-and-beauty @mariamuses @a-happybird @amusicalbookworm @manoncrochanblackbeak @alifletcher2012 @candid-confetti @fandoms-everywhere-united @mis-lil-red@littlehoneyybee @abillionlittlepieces @impossiblescissorspeachpaper @awesomelena555 @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @tswaney17 @jemma-nessian-and-elriel @rhysandsrightknee @gendryaforthemasses @dayanna-hatter @thebluemartini @welcometothespeaknowworldtour @julemmaes @christiashadows @sleeping-and-books @itsme-malin @agnez312 @cat5313 @amren-courtofdreams @chemica @empress-ofbloodshed @islamonna @illyrianbeauty  @sleeping-and-books @queenofxhearts @sleeping-and-books @aedionashryver-wolfofthenorth @queenofillea1 @mynewdreamwasyou @levivlio @hellolenas @burritowithfeels @that-other-pineapple @girl-who-reads-the-books @raghad-50725@musicmaam @rowaelinforeverworld @negativenesta  @welcometothespeaknowworldtour @gloriouspaintercreatorbandit@sannelovesreading @nerdperson524 @ireallyshouldsleeprn @nerdperson524 @mariamuses @gorl-power @booklover242 @rowaelinforeverworld @regular-nessian-trash @izou1204 @aelin-rowan-whitehorn @opheliatheemerald @eversincebeirut @musicmaam @ladybookwrm​ @santas-dwynwen​ @starryandbooks​ @candid-confetti​ @avenrebekah​ @awkward-avocado-s​ 

[fe-semi-decent-scenarios]

Hi!! I've just found your blog and really like how you write! If it's no trouble, how would either the blue lions or black eagles react to an s/o that wants to drop out of the academy? Like, would they try to stop them or let them go? (pre-timeskip of course lol)

[Hello and welcome to my blog! Thank you for the compliments, they truly mean the world to me. For this i’ll write for BE considering that I haven’t gotten a request for them in particular recently.You can always tell which characters I write for first because the imagines gradually get longer as I become more invested lol. Hope you like it!] 

WARNING: SPOILERS FOR BLACK EAGLE RUN BELOW

Edelgard: 

Edelgard would approach the situation cautiously. She will not act until she somehow pries every detail out of you.

“I understand my dear...but may I ask why?” - Will lead you through a roundabout interrogation. If there’s any possibility that you’re being cohered to leave by an external source she will find out

Hubert may receive a mission to do some digging

Her course of action also depends greatly on timing. If this issue suddenly appears around when she plans to invade the monastery then she will let you go with a grain of salt. She does not want to fight you in battle if you decide to side with the church 

If she is already certain that you are on her side then she will offer you refuge in Enbarr before the war begins.  

Is also very understanding if one of your reasons for dropping out is not wanting to fight your friends and/or develop emotional attachments 

Whatever you decide will not change anything. One way or another you’d be leaving Garreg Mache, who is she to call the shots on how?

Dorathea:

“I will not stand to let you go without an explanation” - Please do not let her find out through a secondary source 

Seriously. 

Dorathea is not the loose girl that people peg her to be. She is kind, headstrong, and will whip your butt if you plan to just up and leave her 

Depending on your reasoning she will try to stop you. It’s such an effort to earn a place at the academy, and leaving is truly a waste in her opinion 

Might actually drag the professor into the conversation if you don’t convince her fast enough. Yes, she will resort to any tactics necessary

Being away from you might actually break her heart. She knows it’s selfish but if you leave then the chances you’ll ever be together are slim 

In the end she’ll give in, saying that she loves you. If you end up staying she’ll be overjoyed

If you leave...well, she won’t change. To the average eye she’s the same person but to those close the fire behind her actions is gone 

Find her after garreg mache falls. Please, don’t leave her wondering if you lived  

Bernadetta:

She’s at a loss. One of the closest people she has is leaving and she can’t do anything

The only way she finds out is through the professor. There’s a knocking on her door that won’t go away, and on the outside there they stand. They ask her to try and convince you; naturally, she attempts to get out of it

“Me?! Isn’t there someone better you could ask?” Initially she’ll freak out before the realization sets in. 

“I can’t do anything...they won’t listen to someone like me”- and with that she’ll hole herself away from everyone. In her mind there won’t be a need for a goodbye if you two don’t meet 

Even if you come to her door every day she won’t open it. Instead she’ll cling to her bear stuffie with bated breath until you walk away

Until one day you don’t show 

She waits, and waits, and waits, and waits. She waits till the sky is dark yet you still haven’t come

Then she’ll creep out of her room, maybe you fell asleep outside while trying to trick her out? When she sees an empty courtyard her stomach drops

She’ll walk to your room in a haste only to see boxes stacked outside. Her heart shatters

“W-w-wait! P-please, please d-don’t go” - Hear her out and talk. She’s sorry for ignoring you, just don’t leave 

Petra: 

Her position is one that doesn’t offer much freedom.

Not enough to travel Fodlan, not enough to help her country, and not enough to follow you. If you leave then that’s it. You’re gone 

Petra will listen to your argument in full. She knows the feeling of being somewhere you do not feel welcome. She wants you to forge the path you wish to walk

“If this is not the place of being in which you call home, then you must do the leaving. I will not be stopping you” 

Petra will want to know what your plans are after you go. Where can she find you? Would you perhaps like to come visit Bridgid after she graduates? 

Petra does not view it as an end, but as a path to a new beginning. If anyone tries to tell you otherwise then she will honestly fight them. They will not take away your right to be free and make your own choices

On the inside she is hurting, greatly. There are not many people at the academy that made her feel at home, with you gone there will be even less. 

She plans to send you letters often. On pen and paper she conveys her thoughts easily, and it will be good practice for learning the language of fodlan 

If you end up staying she will reveal how you leaving would have hurt her, but if you go the relief is still there. 

Knowing you were far from the monestary during the fighting puts her at ease. 

Caspar: 

“You can’t leave! We’ve worked so hard here, and there’s people that need us! Why give that up?!” 

Caspar is not happy. In fact, his entire day is completely soured. When you tell him he won’t even take it seriously at first. He’ll laugh like it’s some kind of ‘twisted joke’. You know, give you a pat on the back and continue talking about something else. Basically he avoids the conversation lol give dima a run for his money why don’t ya

Then he gets defensive. Why even bother enrolling if you’re just going to give up half-way? He honestly rambles so fast that getting a single word in is harder than convincing linhardt to train 

Just let him get it out.

 When he’s done listing off all the reasons you should stay he’ll be out of breath and leaning against one of the nearby tables. Hopefully you chose to have this conversation in private because he does not control his volume

It’s best to not say anything more. When he sees that you’re not swayed he’ll leave to go be alone. Give him some time and then go talk again 

You’ll most likely find him sitting with his head in his hands by the peer. Very ‘uncaspar’ behavior 

“I know it’s your choice- I do, but...I don’t want you to leave” 

This is when you can explain your reasoning to him. He’ll just sit there and take it in silently. Though at the end he’ll reinstate the points he brought up before, and ask you to rethink the situation again. He knows that he makes rash decisions, but that doesn’t mean you have to 

If you decide to stay he’ll try his best to help remedy any issues you have while at the academy, and beyond that he’ll ask you to stick by him during the war 

If you leave he still won’t accept it, but he knows that it isn’t his choice. Just be safe. 

Hubert: 

Hubert knew of your plans long before you brought it up. The moment you two entered a courtship he did an extensive background check, and now constantly keeps track of anything you’re involved with 

Some call it creepy, he calls it safety 

Just so happens that a little birdie told him about you sending in an inquiry about withdrawal papers. First he notifies Lady Edelgard about the possible prospect of losing an ally, and then he approaches you personally 

“Did you really think you could let this sneak past me?” -He’d ask once sure that you two were alone. While improper, he would sneak into your dorm past curfew. He’d find you sitting at your desk as if you were expecting him 

“No, I only wanted to test how your ‘research’ skills are fairing. This must be a new record,”- You’d reply with just as much attitude. A smirk would crawl up his lips at it. You always have something to say 

Before expressing any personal distaste he has with the decision, Hubert’s first priority is to find where you stand with regard to Empire. He’ll snoop by asking your opinion of the church to deduce if you’ll be a possible enemy. His duty comes before his personal opinions 

Then he will calmly ask for your reasoning, and attempt to come up with a different solution. If there is one he will do all in his power to convince you of it. You are a respected ally and cherished companion of “the empire” (we all know he will not say you’re important to him this early on in the relationship. Give it another six years)

If deemed trustworthy, he will take similar action to Edelgard. He offers you a home in Enbarr located near where he will be stationed. When the time comes you can choose to either fight with the army, or do as you wish. There are many less dangerous positions he knows you are well qualified for

Linhardt: 

When he wants to care he will do so. We’ve seen it with how he treats crest research in comparison to something like daily lessons. Linhardt is extremely intelligent and can even outsmart someone as wise as Hanneman if he wants to

He treats his partner like how he wishes for them to treat him: with trust. If there are rumors of your planned departure floating about the monastery he will ignore them. Gossip has never proved to bare no consequence

To be persistent in such a situation holds no merit in his eyes

That does not mean he is not curious. From what he gathered you seemed to be living a pleasant life here at the monastery. There should be no probable cause for departure unless he’s missing something 

Linhardt is the kind to patiently wait. He will not seek you out or ask any of the professors. Instead he will spend his days with you as usual until you bring up the topic in question

This is where it is a battle of wits. He can be quite persuasive when he wishes to be, and right then he’s extra motivated. Though one look at the stressed crease of your brow dials down his normally paramount nature 

He will suggest that you humor him with a list of pro’s and con’s of leaving. Afterwords he’ll throw in his own two-cents and leave you to think on your own 

“If I were you I would not be so hasty. The human lifespan is brief and to dispose of an opportunity of this caliber could prove detrimental to your future” -way to pile on the stress Linhardt 

Just remember that you love him and that he is only thinking in your best interest from a statistical standpoint. On the inside he really is afraid of what might happen to you when he is not around

The boy already hates bloodshed, but your injuries in particular are ones that make him blanch

Ferdinand:  

Lorenz brings up a rumor of you withdrawing during their annual tea. He doesn’t do so out of spite, but merely out of concern considering that you are a good friend. He assumes that if anyone should know it would be your boyfriend 

He did not

Not even a bit 

“You must be mistaken my friend. If such a thing ere to transpire (Y/N) would have informed me immediately” - He would brush it off, but internally his nerves are fried. He decides to see you out once his evening duties are finished 

The entire day he’s anxious to hear from you. It shows in how he completes his tasks. Oh, the shame. What proper noble cannot properly re-shelve library books? 

When he finds you he cannot hide the anxiety in his voice. You instantly pick up on it and address the topic. Ferdinand does not take it well

“Do you hear yourself? To give up on such an opportunity as this is utter foolishness! I thought the rumors were preposterous, but to hear they were true?” - he would be flabbergasted. Dorothea has made it prominent that he tends to push his ideals onto others, but this was completely different

His words hurt. You were already struggling enough as it was to come to a decision. He of all people should be supporting you 

You just leave midway during the conversation. After a moment of recollection he regrets what he said. That sort of treatment is not befitting of a noble...or anyone really 

He’ll go find you and apologize. It doesn’t matter if you’re alone or beside some of your monastery pals, he will beg for forgiveness and will not leave you alone until you give it 

Then he completely butts out. He makes his side of the coin apparent but leaves the ultimate decision to you 

“I apologize. I unfairly lashed out at you after you spoke to me in confidence. I was hurt that you desired to leave everyone...and me. No matter what you decide I will support you”  

[baddly-well-done-translations]

Who is (and who was) who in Marilyn Manson | by Lala Toutonian (Madhouse magazine N°84, year 1997)

A very normal family

  Stop with the Reverend, for Satan’s sake! It’s the turn of the rest of the band, those relegated who maintain a lower (although not less controversial) profile. It’s difficult growing behind the shadow of such a character as Marilyn Manson, because of that is essential to maintain a spiritual strength and a fire-proof constancy. Here, an article (with the most solicited data) about the members and opus of the group which has most given to talk in this time.

Twiggy Ramirez: androginous (but sexual)

  The second place in the category which refers to a visual phenome, is undoubtedly for the androginous bassist. Twiggy Ramirez is only one step away from taking the name of Antichrist Superstar, as his mentor. 

  “I pretend trying to break that barrier between what’s femminine and masculine” says the one who insists with dresses; “I think I had my first erection the day I put on my mother’s undergarments. It’s a part of me which feels comforted with that, as so many other people. Obviously I’m not a hermaphrodite, although people believe so. There’s a very thin line between hetero, bi, and homosexual”.

  His thing is terminant. “We’re here to change today’s mainstream because it’s very mediocre. There was a time in which music wasn’t exciting anymore, there wasn’t a single one rockstar, it depressed me. I’m proud of being part of the mainstream now, somebody had to change it, turn it more exciting”. 

  He asegurates his thing was there since his mother’s womb. “She danced in a cage for the Kinks and Leslie West’s band”. His father could be the legendary guitarist West or Ray Davies from the Kinks: “I grew up surrounded by music. I lived with an aunt who was a groupie and very friend of the Ramones. I remember she hung up with one from the Bee Gees too”. If he hadn’t got success with music, he assegurates he’d be a prostitute. 

  And he continues with polemic themes: “I was raised without religion, I’ve never been cristian or satanist, I’m nothing”. He’s a rockstar: “Our music is so straight forward… There’s a group of idiots who simulate they don’t want to be rockstars, like if they felt pity for themselves. We’re the exception. The last time I talked with my mother, she told me little boxes with pubic hair were arriving at the house. I thought it was spectacular. Someone has to raise and care for those children. If their parents raise them, they’ll be just like us”. 

  Twiggy’s musical career started in primary school. He started playing violin because of a Star Wars film. In secondary school days, “Shout at the Devil” by Mötley Crüe and “Stay Hungry” by Twisted Sister were the albums which had most amazed him and the ones which ended up being decisive in his career. “Dr. Hook and the Medicine Show” was his first band: “A blend of country-wester disco with rockabilly bits”. 

  Ramirez met Manson in a Shopping Mall. “We had a band called ‘Mrs. Scabtree’ in which I dressed up as a black woman and sang. Then we started ‘Satan on Fire’, christian death metal group. I also sang and played guitar while Manson played the bass there. All these projects were while the creation of Marilyn Manson was taking place. He (Manson) played drums and bass, mostly so I could improve with guitar”. 

  Attracted by most dark metal genres “because of its message and rage”, Twiggy realized there was a lot of limitation, you couldn’t go further and the audience was minimal in this type of events. 

  He was invited to join the band after the recording of “Portrait of an American Family” and after two rehearsal weeks, they went on tour. “First album was recorded as a live band. In ‘Smells Like Children’ most of the material were covers. Scarcely in the song ‘Scabs, Guns and Peanut Butter’ I could give my own musical idea”. 

  Until that moment nothing could prevent the path the “Antichrist Superstar” would take, although the creepy version of “Sweet Dreams” deatheached a rotten smell. Ramirez assegurates that while in the “Smells..” tour, Marilyn and him had the same dreams, so they started composing together because it seemed that inspiration had the same start point in common: “In those days we talked about telepathy. We knew what the other was thinking and what we pretended for every song”. 

  The recording process of “Antichrist Superstar” ended up being pretty stressful for Twiggy since the moment in which Daisy was fired out of the band: “I don’t really know what was up with Daisy, but I was feeling alone, I wasn’t contributing in anything. I was lucky that there was Trent (Reznor)” Twiggy, with Marilyn Manson, plus Madonna Wayne Gacy’s contributions, were some of the pillars that helped “Antichrist Superstar” being the success it is.

God’s chosen one

  The last thing the group’s members needed after the recording of Antichrist Superstar was having to search for a replacement for Berkowitz. But in the face of Daisy’s inability to get into the Manson family, they had to search for a six string player. This was in May 96’, and after a year they crashed into Zim Zum. While dozens of musicians paraded around Treznor’s house, the trio Manson-Ramirez-Gacy was acting as a judge while watching auditioning aspirants. 

  Although his name doesn’t derivate from a sex simbol and a murderer, the nickname has a particularity worthy of emphatize: the idea was taken from Hebrew. Zim Zum was the angel God had chosen to do the dirty work at the start of times; the same function was given to him by Mr. Manson while including him in the band. There are other dark sides in his ambivalent personality too: Tzimtzum refears, in cabbalistic terms, to the place God left for giving place to humanity. Also his name could be attributed to the serial assassin from the 60’s, called Raymond Zum. 

  From Illinois, Chicago, he worked for a long time in a guitar factory (In fact, three guitars of his are self-made). Apart of LSD (Life, Sex and Death), he had never participated in a band before. He debuted recording the live version of “Irresponsible Hate Anthem”.

A simple guy: Olivia Newton Bundy

  Brian Tutunick is an original member of the Spooky Kids, after the initial project of Marilyn Manson, he continued his career in Collapsing Lungs and now he plays in Nation of Fear: “Nation of Fear started in 1995 after the dissolution of Collapsing Lungs. This project really was in my plans before that Marilyn Manson thing, as something more industrial. But some members of the bands preferred hip-hop. Then I met DJ Grinch, who was a Collapsing fan, and we started Nation together”.  He assegures his thing is industrial, goth, alternative and a bit of rap and hardcore, everything blended with computers. 

  How was his history in Marilyn Manson? “Perry (Zsa Zsa Speck) and I were working on the Collapsing thing, and we were very friends. We had never made music before, but we wrote a lot of poetry. He started hanging out with Scott (Daisy Berkowitz) and recorded something like six tracks. That way they started Spooky Kids and I was asked if I wanted to be part of the project.  I joined them, although I always pretended returning to Collapsing. Everyone gave ideas about performance and the visual part, but Manson already knew what direction we had to take. Between 1989 and 1990 we had only five shows. Madonna was bizarre. When we quit off the band because we wanted to keep up with Collapsing, we told him to take charge of the samplers. He was an encyclopedia of bizarre acts”, tells Olivia. 

“I basically left the band because Manson and I have our own messages, someones in common, others not (...) I’m not on the musician's side. I hate musicians. I’m with entertainment, because of that I have more in common with a stripper than with Billy Joel”, concludes Wayne Gacy like if he wanted to make clear his mental lucidity. 

  Olivia practically doesn’t see the members of Marilyn Manson anymore, unless they met in a club or pub in the city. “Marilyn Manson is a shock rock band. They’re what they’re because they’re very controversial. There’s a thing I find particularly funny: religious groups which attentate in it’s shows. I consider that threatening a stadium full of kids with a bomb is a lot worse than a simple guy who’s trying to play his music”.  Simple? Guy?...

Leafing the Daisy

  When Daisy Berkowitz said goodbye to his peers in the middle of Antichrist Superstar’s production, fans were left totally shocked. After desperate searches by the press hand, he finally appeared, only to present Three Ton Gates, his new aggrupation. Now he’s heading towards the trial Manson initiated because of his composition’s rights. 

  “I wasn’t fired. I felt like I didn’t have credit for what I was doing and certainly not the opportunity of doing my music, while that was all I did between the first album and Smells Like Children. Manson didn’t accept any of the compositions I had for Antichrist Superstar. He only wanted ‘Wormboy’ and I felt deceived. He didn’t respect me. He changes opinions every five minutes, I’m not exaggerating. He was always searching for a sonorous personality and I contributed a lot in that field. When you write, you cannot simply transmit what you have in your head. He isn’t a musician, so he doesn’t understand that. He never appreciated my effort in creating a big sound unity”. 

  He assures Manson wanted to work with Twiggy and not with him, because the bassist took charge of the guitars after Daisy’s departure. “When I noticed I had only participated in a third part of the album, I decided to go away. They didn’t even include lots of guitars! They literally didn’t let me enter the studio, I only entered two times per week to do the basics with guitars. I played in five tracks: ‘Warmboy’, ‘Tourniquet’, ‘Mr. Superstar’ and ‘Antichrist Superstar’. Then they told me ‘Now you can leave’ and they hadn’t even ended the album. I realized I had to leave...“ laments Daisy. 

  He criticises the Reverend saying he had never had a band before and he doesn’t know what professionalism is. He doesn’t hang out with any of the band members now: “Nobody has even invited me to a show”. What does not being “Daisy Berkowitz” anymore feel like? “A bit better”, he tries to convince us. 

  The ones who want to contact the ex-Daisy, can do it at http://www.spookykids.com/threetongate (It’s a magazine from the ‘97, I hardly believe the page even exists now)