#and that plays into red and blue’s romance cause the two of them yearn for hunger and taste and knowledge and find that in each other

[yuridovewing]

Just finished “This is How You Lose the Time War”… holy shit dude yall should go read it right now. If only so the tumblr tag isnt just the guy from trigun

[rpd-rookie]

The One Who Runs Away, The One Who Runs Back (Leon S. Kennedy x Reader)

Author’s note: This is a sequel to “A PAST WITH HER, A FUTURE WITH YOU” and the end of my three-parts fan fiction "I TRUSTED YOU WITH MY HEART" I decided to write after so many of you asked for it. Sorry it took so long but I was navigating from one fandom to another. (BTW, if there are any Devil May Cry fans up here, you can read my DMC fan fictions here) PS: Even if I said it before, I have no hate whatsoever towards Ada or Aeon.

Tagged: Angst, Fluff, Romance, Post-Break up, Sexual Content 

Part 1 / Part 2

***

Do you remember? We started this story by quoting some sitcom character that was clueless about love. Well, here’s a suggestion. Why not ending it by quoting someone who knew a little more on such matter.

William Shakespeare - you know that English dude expert on tragic ‘drink this poison, stab yourself’ kind of love - apparently once said ‘Love runs away from those chasing her, and those who run away, she throws herself on his neck’. I say ‘apparently’ cause, even though I have a master in English lit, this quote is from the internet, and also … who knows what the guy truly said?

But it’s the quote that’s important. Not the author. The quote it’s important because it sums up perfectly how this story is gonna end. However, before starting, let me tell you this quote is going to be the only Shakespeare-worthy sentence in this final chapter. You’ve been warned.

Love runs away from those chasing her.          Well, this part was definitely written for someone like Ada Wong. Owner of countless gold medals and possibly a world record at this point, that woman is basically the Usain Bolt of the ‘Running from Leon S. Kennedy’ competition. Unchallenged winner since the creation of this sultry version of cat and mouse game, it’s better not to think about the number of times she successfully ran away from her favourite agent.  But this year, this formidable titleholder in a gorgeous red dress will have to face her Nemesis in the championship. You. Though the comparison to the hideous bio-organic killing machine might not be very complimentary to you but you get the idea.  This year you enter the Kennedy Olympics. And this year you run like Sonic the Hedgehog and you win the damn competition (screw you Usain Bold!). And you do this with your head high and without an ounce of regret. Ignore all the texts and flowers Leon might send on your track Mario Kart style. His gifts are not as slippery as banana peels and they can easily be dodged, I promise. Well, most of the time, when you’re not lying on your bed in the middle of the night crying and sobbing while reading his messages or playing his voice in your voicemail again and again until you’re nothing more but a giant mess with puffy red eyes drowning in a puddle of your own tears.        Screw those messages too! And screw his broken yet terribly sexy voice as well!

Being a man of word, Leon kept his promise. And for months you kept on running peacefully, marathoning away from this past relationship that had destroyed you like no other before while tranquilly fixing your broken heart on the way. That run was a good cardio.

But sometimes, cardio is not enough, and even just the small sight of an overpriced whisky bottle or the smell of Leon’s perfume on some guy’s clothes is enough to reopen your wounds.           And when it happens, you always do the same thing, you break the damn bottle - and run cause damn! it’s expensive! -  or you tell the guy his perfume smells like cheap cologne and that he should definitely change it, which is an improvement on your past destructive behaviour, since there was a time shortly after the break up when you would have simply dragged the guy to your place to let him fuck you senseless while imagining he was Leon. All that just for the illusion to feel him again and for the sake to kick him out the next morning, screaming like a hysterical psycho.

So imagine, for a small second, the wave of intense feelings surging out of your healing heart when, in the middle of a cafe, you hear some dude sitting behind you ordering Leon’s favourite whisky while wearing the same bloody perfume. “It’s got to be relentless persecution at that point!” You sigh, already annoyed, closing your book more violently than intended. Hope you’re ready, stranger! Because you’re not in the mood to deal with this right now.            You turn around with a fake smile that reflects perfectly your irritation, ready to give him hell, your sharpest riposte already burning your tongue. After all, he deserves it and you can’t help it.         But when you meet familiar – and freaking gorgeous - baby blue eyes you freeze and stare, suddenly confused and lost and refusing to believe that in spite of the intense running, love just jumped at your neck after all and it was sitting there, taking the shape of Leon S(tupid) Kennedy.

You should have stood up and left, run for your life, run for your heart. And yet, you didn’t.    You stayed there staring at him looking at you, allowing all your memories, the good ones and the bad ones, all your buried feelings to come back from the dead, embracing them as if you had missed them, which, let’s be honest, you probably had.            You tried to scream to yourself “Come on, Y/N! Shake a leg!” but it seemed that what you brain understood was something like “Cum on him! Open your legs!” as a couple of blurry hours later, you were on Leon’s bed, legs wide open, screaming his name and begging him not to stop his amazing thrusts.

Six months, you ran for six months … Well, looks like the run ends here and now. After a minute-long deep stare, an afternoon of amazing sex and two hours long of something blurry in between.

“I missed you.” And there you were! The moment all couples that broke up have after one of them (in this case Leon with the infamous ‘I missed you line’) starts to believe they miraculously rekindled their love. The fatal post-coital cuddling session that you don’t know how to react to, as you think of all the possibilities before you.      Possibility Number 1) You tell Leon you missed him too and cuddle, enjoying that embrace you secretly yearned for months. But that includes forgetting what he has done or pretending that nothing happened.     Possibility Number 2) You push him away, get dressed, leave again and act as if this afternoon never happened. But if Leon doesn’t remind you of it, the ache between your legs will, that’s for sure!   Possibility Number 3) You jump him again until you sore even more and hope that you’ll be able to leave afterwards.         Frankly, all possibilities suck because, in all cases, it seems like you lose. Since,       with Possibility Number 1) you lose the run forever, with Possibility Number 2) you lose him again and with Possibility Number 3) well it’s result 1 or 2 + your body aching like crazy for days. I suck at math but no need to be Einstein to know the result of this calculation looks unpleasant.    So what do you choose?

You see a triangular dice rolling in your head, showing a never-ending succession of 1, 2 and 3 that doesn’t make any sense and that confuse you even more than you already are. 1, 2, 3, 2, 1, 3, 2 ! Oh for fuck’s sake!

You grimace, angry and pissed at Leon and probably even more at yourself, and finally leaves his bed and his strong warm arms, feeling the tears furiously forming in your eyes. “I can’t” You can’t look at him in the eyes. You don’t want to see his confusion, don’t want to see his pain as he witnesses all his hopes shatter to pieces.         “ What do you mean?” You can hear the sheets crease behind you, alerting you of Leon’s agitation, so you hurry and pick up all your clothes scattered in his room. You must leave, now. 2! 2 it is!  “This! All This! This afternoon never happened.” You tell him, putting on your clothes with sudden clumsy and trembling hands, not caring if your bra is correctly hooked or if you put your shirt on back to front. Your heart. You have to think of your poor heart first.          “Hey, hey, hey.” You feel Leon’s hand softly grabbing your arms and you let go of whatever you were holding right now. His voice is sweet and trying to be comforting. Don’t look at him Y/N! Don’t look at him! “Look at me.” You do. Damn it! And you see his gorgeous blue eyes staring at you, studying your flustered face and the tears slowly drowning your (colour) look. You missed those eyes. You missed them so.damn.much ! As much as you missed his hands cupping your face and his thumbs wiping up your tears. God! How many tears those thumbs have missed recently. “It’s alright.”

You want to believe him. You really do. But there is this voice screaming in your head and very clearly this time. A voice shouting, forcing you to remember that night, that awful nightmarish night, the one when you felt your heart break and your dreams turn to ashes. All that because of him and his obsession for her.

“No, it’s not alright, Leon.” You shake your head and miraculously manage to take a small step back. You never thought you could. But you had to. You can’t stay close to him. You can’t let him touch you, feel you. Not if you want to run away. And you have to run away. Like her! Like Ada. Ada! “I told you. For as long as you have feelings for Ada, I can’t … we can’t…”     “Please don’t talk about her.” He begs and rubs his hand over his face. Is he trying to chase her away from his mind? Is she still in here? Please, let her not be in here.    “But she’s the reason we’re in this situation now. She’s the reason why we’re in this mess.” You insist only for the sake to see his reaction when you mention Ada, to see if she’s still under his skin, somewhere. “Ada is not the reason. I am!” Leon corrects you, a finger directed at his heavy chest as he is putting the full blame on himself for the first time since that night. “I am the one who went after Ada when I shouldn’t have! I am the reason why we broke up! I am the reason why we are so miserable!”         “But I was fine!” You shouted back in an attempt to show him he was wrong refusing to listen to that part of you who knew he was completely right. You were miserable without him. “I was doing fine until you came back and fucked everything up! I was healing goddamnit!”             You felt new tears rolling along your red cheeks and quickly wipe them off with the back of your hand that felt so callous and rough in comparison to Leon’s gentle touch. “You can’t just jump back into my life like this and expect me to forget!”

Leon nods, agreeing with you in a certain way. But the truth is, he doesn’t want you to forget. He doesn’t expect you to erase his mistake. He just wants you to forgive him … No, he just wants you to come back to him. Period. And that’s got to be what you want to. It has to!   “So why did you have sex with me, huh?” He finally asks even though he already knows your answer. “Tell me!” You’re not the kind of person who has meaningless sex, not the kind of person who worships one’s body with divine kisses and devoted caresses if they mean nothing. “Why did you have sex with me?” And yet the answer he wishes to hear doesn’t come out. “For fuck’s sake Y/N! Answer me! Why?” He shouts making you shiver and cry even more.    “Because I LOVE YOU!” You finally scream. And it hurts. It hurts but it feels good too. Like a weight lifted off your chest. “Because I missed you too! Because those months without you have been terrible! Because I don’t know how to handle even just the thought of you or the sound of your voice in my voicemail. Because each time I see something that makes me think of you, I’m a mess and I do things that normal me would never do! You fucked me up, Leon! You fucked me up but I love you! And I hate to love you!” You grunt in pain and relief, enraged but happy that you finally let everything out. And Leon listens in silence, frozen by your powerful honest confession. But he doesn’t know how to react. He doesn’t know what to say. Part of him is overjoyed, ecstatic that you still love him but there is another part that just feels terrible, sorry for the pain your love for him caused you even in his absence.   “But you see—“ You continue “That’s the problem in our relationship, Leon! I love you in ways that are so intense, that go beyond sanity. And you love me by half.”    You see him crumple, his horrified face looking suddenly very pale as if he had just heard some dreadful news. Is that really how you feel? Is that how you see his love for you? Is that what he has made you believe?         “Goodbye Leon.”

With the full intention to leave Leon’s place for good and never come back, you grab you bag on your way out of the bedroom while carelessly shoving your underwear inside of it since you forgot to put them on in the midst of panic and precipitation. Get out of here, Y/N! Now! A reasonable voice encourages you. Listen to me!    But this not what Leon wants.

“I never loved you by half.” He declares and you abruptly stop, asking God if he’s some kind of sadist that loves seeing you in pain from the comfort of his divine sofa somewhere in heaven. “Never.” But it’s not God and his sadism that makes you turn around. It’s you, and your masochist love for that blue-eyed man before you.     “I don’t believe you” Your voice almost doesn’t leave your throat as you try not to sob.           “But it’s the truth.” He says with a calm soothing voice as he slowly approaches you. “I never imagined my future with Ada. I never wished to grow old with her or build a home with her.” You want to tell Leon to stop talking, to stay where he is but your body doesn’t seem to respond. And when you feel him grabbing your hands in his and the comforting warmth that goes with that simple touch, you know that leaving is now an almost impossible task. “Yes. I admit it. My feelings for her were real.” Even when his honesty hurts you, you don’t know how to leave anymore. “But they were nothing in comparison to what I feel for you.”     You try to let go, pulling your hands away from his loving grip but he holds you back. And you’re not strong enough. Or maybe, you just don’t want to be strong. Everything is so confusing. Everything is tearing you apart.     “But they’re still here, aren’t they?” You question, hoping his answer might give you a clue, might give you the strength to make the correct decision. Do you leave? Or do you stay? “And they’ll keep coming back each she goes back into your life. You can’t let go of her.”    “You’re maybe right.” His words hurt you more than you thought they would. They hurt like hell because you realise there are not the ones you wanted to hear. You wanted to hear him say that he would let go of Ada, for good, for you. You wanted to hear that because deep down … YOU WANTED TO FUCKING STAY! “But can you let go of your past?” He continues and you shake your head refusing to hear any other word coming out of Leon’s mouth.       “Don’t!” You beg, weary.           “No! Listen to me this time. Ada is my past, Y/N. She’s my past. And you … you’re my future. You’re my life, damn it!” He doesn’t cry but you don’t need his tears to sense how emotional and how honest he is. And suddenly, you just want to listen to him. “And I was a fool not to see it sooner. When you left me, I felt a void I had never felt in my entire life. I felt like a part of me was missing. And then, the bombing in Washington happened, and it was like I had nothing left. I needed you. I wanted you. You. Not Ada.”      “Leon” You whisper and he cups your face again, blue eyes staring deep into yours, allowing you to see everything in him, his strong love for you and all the weaknesses he hated to admit. “It was you in my mind. Only you. And it will always be you. Because I love you. Now. Today. And I will always love you.”

You cry even more, uncertain if those tears are tears of sorrow, tears of joy or a mix of both. God, how can your emotions be such a mess right now? How can you be wishing to shout at him with all the anger you’ve accumulated and, at the same time, willing to kiss him with all love you’ve got?

“If you got to believe something. Believe that. And if that’s not enough and you think you can be happy with someone else. Then go. I won’t hold you back.” You frown. He is fucking lying. You’re sure of it. “You can’t stop running after me and you know it.” He smiles and scoffs, sensing that hint of sudden defiance in your tone he enjoys a lot.  “True. I can’t sop running after you. But I’ll do my best not to catch you if that’s what you want. But you got to tell me. Is that what you truly want?” You don’t reply. Truth is, you’re not sure what to say not because you’re not sure that’s what you want but because you’re not sure you can trust him if you let him in again.                        “No.” You whisper. “No, that’s not what I want. I want you. All of you.” You can see Leon struggle to contain his growing joy as it starts to glimmer brighter and brighter in his irises. He doesn’t want to cry victory just yet. He is cautious and rightfully so. “But can I?”        “Want me?” He smiles. “ Have you completely?” You correct, searching for a promise in his eyes, one you hope, you wish he would not break this time.     “Trust me with your heart again and find out.”

This better not hurt this time…

[sparklingchan]

Ruby Eyes|| Seo Changbin (Stray Kids)

Pairing : Reader(fem.) X Changbin

Word count : 7.3k+ 

Warnings : Mention of an accident, cuss words, divorce, a single kiss.

Genre : Romance, Soulmate AU, fluff, angst, best friends to lovers.

Description: Seo Changbin has done everything in his capacity to remove and replace you, yet fate seems to have different plans for the both of you.

A/N : Hello everyone ahhh I know it’s been so long y’all. So many things have been going on including exams and internships and I just didn’t have the patience to write :(( This one shot was written as a part of a collab event by wonderful, dear Ro! 

I hope y’all like it!

"So, how's it being back, y/n?"

Your dad looks older now than he did the last time you saw him - probably two years ago, when you were leaving the country.

You missed him, really. You missed his warmth and his wisdom and how he was a sharp contrast to your mother, more calm and composed. Sometimes you wonder how your mother had even managed to get your custody after their divorce.

"Okay, I guess." You lie.

You didn't want your father to know how your feelings are all over the place, ranging from sadness to anger and longingness.

It's a weird thing to be experiencing such a cocktail of emotions when you'd convinced yourself these feelings had disappeared the day you left the old neighborhood, seven years ago. You had not felt any attachment towards the new neighborhood that you and your mother then went on to live for the next two years before you moved abroad for your studies. Yet you feel nostalgic now, as your father drives you through your old old neighborhood.

"How's mom?" He asks, taking a left to a road all too familiar to you, "Is she still going to therapy?"

You nod, "She's getting better, I think. The new country seems to have changed her. The therapy is helping too. She has many friends there now. "

At first when you were offered a job at one of the biggest publishing companies in the world, you were ecstatic. But everything soon died down when you found out you were posted at a branch in the country you'd left behind. It was your mother who'd convinced you to take it.

"I know you don't like being back, y/n." Your dad smiles sadly when he pulls over infront of your old house.The house that contains years of secrets, tears, lies and whispered confessions in front of the mirror stands in front of you, as grand and pretty as ever. It looks different but similar enough to make you tear up a tad bit.

"But I'm glad you're here. I really am." He says, "I renovated the house a little when you told me you were moving back. I hope it's okay."

You smile at the old man, wrapping your arms around him, "Thanks, dad. I missed you. I'm glad you're here, too."

He pecks your forehead, "I missed you, too, love."

Moving in doesn't take a lot of time since your dad had already set up everything. You just had to get some of your stuff and you were ready to kick start your stay.

That evening, your father leaves after making you promise to call him if anything happens at all and when the front door closes, you find yourself in the company of your old room.

You lie on your bed, eyes fixed on the ceiling as you hum an old tune to yourself. And without meaning to, you find yourself thinking about him; The man you hadn't seen or talked to for a whole seven years. The man who'd tried his best to stay in touch with you yet gave up when you didn't reciprocate the same.

A horrific realization then dawns on you,

He'd obviously replaced you now.

The familiar clouds of grief loom over you, threatening to engulf you any moment now.

No. Not now, please.

Getting up from your bed immediately, you shake your head as you make your way to the mirror- the mirror that had encountered more honest tears and smiles and words than any human ever had. You stare at your reflection as tears escapes your eyes, the bright red iris of your right eye staring back at you when you rub your tears off.

You shiver.

"Shit, I forgot to wear the contacts."

Quickly grabbing your lenses from your bag, you put them on, concealing the scary blood red color of your right eye. You take two long strides across the room and pulling your favorite black hoodie over your head, you walk out of the door.

By the time you manage to leave the house, it's already 10:30 in the evening. A quiet calmness has fallen over the town, as the shops and restaurants near the market square slowly start closing up. Your feet are as if on autopilot, taking you to that one place you know would still be open; Yang's Café.

And rightly so, the smell of freshly brewed coffee reaches your nostrils when you walk through their main door, past the group of chatty teenagers waiting outside. This place hasn't changed much, you realize, the brown and golden hues of the place and the vintage coffee cups collection in the far corner of the Cafe are still the same. The only difference is that you're no longer here with your best friend right after school, you are here all alone on an evening too quiet for your liking.

"Y/n? Is that you?"

When you turn around to face the owner of the voice, you are stunned.

"Jeongin?"

Jeongin's family has owned this Cafe for three generations now, from his great-grandparents, his grandparents, his parents and soon enough it'll pass down to him. As a kid, you remember often playing with Jeongin at the park and teaming up with him during quiz competition. He was always sweet and always smiley.

But the handsome young man that stands in front of you doesn't resemble the Jeongin you once used to know, not even a little bit.

"What..what happened to you!" You exclaim, taking his face in your hands, "Where are the braces! And the specs and wow, would you look at the blue hair!"

Jeongin can only let out a few giggles as you continue squishing his face and complaining how big he's grown in only over seven years.

The customers give you weird stares but only the heavens above know how genuinely happy you are to see Jeongin, albeit the fact you almost couldn't recognize him there for a second.

"What have you done to my child?" You mutter when you've finally calmed down and Jeongin takes you to your seat.

"I have a mother, y/n, thank you very much," he laughs, taking a seat opposite to yours, loosening the Barista apron around his torso, "And I missed you too."

You attempt to pinch his cheeks but he is quick to dodge.

"So how have you been?" He asks through giggly breaths.

You sigh, "I'm good... I feel weird being back here, honestly but I think I'll get used to it soon. What about you?"

"I've been good. Graduated a few months back, now I'm working here full time." He ushers over a waiter, "What would you like, y/n?"

You don't even think for a second while responding, "An iced Americano, please."

The waiter notes your order and walks away before Jeongin pinches your arm teasingly.

"Ouch. What?"

"Old habits die hard, huh? You always used to drink an iced coffee whenever we hung out here. I am glad to see nothing much has changed," Jeongin laughs, "You and Changbin, too!"

That one name sends your entire mind into a frenzy. Changbin. Seo Changbin. The love of your life. The man who you wouldn't even go to school without, the man who had saved you from a terrible accident, also the man who probably no longer even remembers you.

And you realise, despite everything, your heart yearns for him, still- for you wouldn't be in so much pain at the mention of his name otherwise.

Jeongin seems to have noticed your discomfort because he immediately changes the topic, "Anyway, you have to try our new chocolate cake. It's heavenly, I'm telling you."

Your reason to leave the neighborhood wasn't a secret, really. It was public knowledge that your mother had blamed Changbin for the fatal accident you almost had.

You're grateful for what Jeongin does, and try your best to engage in conversations about the neighborhood and old gossip you'd missed out on. Yet all you want to do is drive out of the damn Cafe and find changbin.

"Y/n?"

Or maybe, Changbin will find you.

Behind Jeongin, you see the blurry image of a man that had once caused you great misery yet you had never felt as happy as when you were with him.

"Hi..hi, Changbin." You stammer as you see the said man walk towards your table.

The seven years have as if done some magic on him, because the Changbin that walks towards you in no way resembles your high school best friend.

With thick buff arms, new ear piercings and silver jewelry gracing his wrists and fingers, you have a hard time actually accepting the fact that Seo Changbin is really there, in front of you.

"Been long, huh?" He grins, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes and somewhere in the depths of your conscience, you realize it might have been your fault. You'd done everything in your capacity to break apart from this friendship, ignoring his calls, changing your number, even going as far as blocking him on all social media.

So, did you really expect him to welcome you back with open arms when you had caused him so much pain?

Jeongin brings an extra chair for Changbin to sit on and soon, the three of you are talking, maybe not like the old, happy days but it's still better than nothing. Changbin looks at you everytime you throw your head back and laugh, your eyes squeezing shut as his heart clenches in his chest.

You are really back home.

"So what have you been doing? I told you guys about me." Jeongin says, stealing a bite off of Changbin's cheesecake.

"Oh..you know," Changbin giggles, the tip of his ears turning a light pink shade.

You raise your eye brows in confusion.

"Been busy with the wedding and all."

Your heart drops. "Wedding? W-whose wedding?" You try to laugh it off but it's very evident from the way you're gripping your glass of iced Americano that it has affected you. A lot more than you actually thought.

"I'm getting married, y/n," Changbin smiles, "I'm so glad you could be around for the wedding."

*

Your grief stricken self has not gotten up from the bed since last night and you're thankful to Jeongin for finally checking up on you or else you would have gone deeper into the spiral hole of despair.

"Are you really going to be like this, y/n?"

You hate being miserable on the very second day of your stay. You hate depending on Jeongin. But you can barely move without bursting out into tears,so it seems as though there's no better idea than have someone take care of you at the moment.

"I'm sorry, Jeongin. " You manage to speak when he places a bag full of snacks and drinks on the dining table, "And thanks."

Jeongin chuckles, "Don't thank me, just yet. Guess who wants to meet up with you?"

Your eyes widen for a split second as you sit up on the couch, "Who?!"

No, he wouldn't, would he?

"It's not the person you think, y/n. Calm down." He laughs, "It's Bang Chan. Your senior, you remember?"

Oh, yes, the infamous Bang Chan. Shy smiles, dimples, curly hair, angelic eyes. Yeah, you remember the school's heartthrob. Very clearly.

"I was talking to him this morning and he said he'd be very glad to catch up with you again." Jeongin settles beside you, "It's not a date, y/n. He's an old friend. It wouldn't hurt, would it? You can't possibly sit here all day long crying about him."

You open your mouth to argue, but only air slips out and you realise you don't have anything to defend your miserable state with. You knew this was coming; when you cut off all ties with Seo Changbin, you knew this was coming.

Jeongin is right; you need to go out and meet new people.

You roll your eyes before pinching Jeongin's cheeks, "Fine. Give him my number."

He responds by pulling your cheeks as well.

*

The first day of work is weirdly gut wrenching.

You hadn't expected yourself to be this nervous but here you are, muttering under your breath as you make way towards the office.

"You'll be okay, y/n," you breathe in, "You've worked hard for this." And breathe out.

A few more minutes of self pep talking and you see all your hard work and expectations go down the drain as you feel a few droplets of rain fall onto your head. You look up and the dark, heavy clouds greet you.

Bloody brilliant.

You see the office goers around you jog quickly to the nearest shelter but you're short on luck today as your gaze falls on your watch and you realize you don't have enough time to wait for the rain to pass.

So you grab your office bag, cover your head with that and make a run for it.

The sole of your high heel shoes dig into your feet and a throbbing pain shoots through your body, as you wince. Note to yourself - never wear heels to office again.

You also secretly pray to the gods that your contact lens don't get washed off. Turning up at your new office on the first day with a blood red iris doesn't feel too fun, really.

"Do you need a lift?"

You had been so busy running to your office that you don't notice when a black car drives toward you and the driver rolls down the window, offering you a smile.

Seo Changbin.

Your heart skips a few beats.

"Y/n, do you need a lift?"

You blink back to reality when he clicks his fingers in front of you, "I-I mean if that's okay with you."

Changbin smiles, pointing to the passenger's seat, "Come on in."

When you're comfortably seated in his car, using his spare towel to wipe off the water from your face and hair, his questions start-

"So.." He steps on the break when the traffic light turns red, "How have you been?"

You look at the digital clock displayed on the cars' LED, and sigh. You're late to work and you're stuck in traffic with the one man you'd rather not be stuck in traffic with. Brilliant.

"Good." Your eyes are focused on the cars outside the window, "You?"

There's a moment of silence before he speaks again, "Fine."

Fine? Just Fine? Shouldn't he be over the clouds, now that the wedding is finally around the corner?

"Okay.."

"Actually, I meant to ask you earlier, y/n." He turns to you, a gentle smile playing at his lips, "I am throwing a party this weekend. I'd love it if you could come by. And I could introduce you to her."

You sink back into your seat, biting your lip, wondering if you want to ever know who her is. Your peace of mind is more important than meeting your ex crush's fiance, right? And if you do end up going to the party, whom would you hang out with? It's not like you know any of his rich friends and cousins and there's no way you'd hang out with Changbin and the said fiance.

You are about to respectfully reject the invitation when a sudden, seemingly good idea pops into your head.

Bang Chan.

You nod, shrugging, "Okay. I'll be there."

You clasp your hands together as he continues driving and you look out the window, unable to suppress the bubbling excitement.

"Great, then." He replies, suspiciously.

*

The evening of the party finally arrives, much to your dismay, you find yourself seated next to Chan. He's just the same as the guy in your memory; a gentleman.

"You look pretty, y/n." He had greeted you as he held the car door open for you, "I'm glad we could meet up."

His words turn your cheeks into a darker shade of red but your heart doesn't beat quite as furiously as you'd expect it to.

Muttering a small thank you, you seat comfortably in the car while Chan drives towards Changbin's family's old Farmhouse on the outskirts of the city. You've been there before - during summer holidays, he would take you there with his family. That place was only filled with happy memories of sunshine, swimming pools, watermelon juice and bonfires.

You swallow the grief that comes along with these memories.

"Are we here already?" Chan pulls over in a familiar driveway not even ten minutes later, jogging up to your door and clicking it open, like the gentleman he is.

"Yeah, we're here." Chan smiles, "Very less traffic tonight."

You guys walk through the huge metallic gate, making your way through the main door of the house.

"Uh..." People are crowded mostly around the front door and in the front yard, so you and Chan have to push and squeeze your way into the Farmhouse. You hate the feeling of sweaty bodies pressing against you (or holding Chan's hand for stability) but desperate situations call for desperate measures.

"I hate it here." You mutter when you later find yourself by the pool side, swirling the drink that you don't even plan on drinking and looking at all the flushed faces having the time of their lives.

Thankfully, Chan happens to be on the same boat as you.

"I'm sorry I dragged you here, Chan. We could have just gone for a movie."

Chan giggles, "Hey, it's alright. I don't mind, I'm glad I could spend some time with you after so many years."

His eyes shine and dimples deepen.

You whisper, "Yeah, me too."

Chan is a handsome man, good at all kinds of sport, good at arts, very smart and intelligent yet there's a part of you that knows you'd never be able to reciprocate his flirtatious words. It's sad, really, but that's just how life is.

"Wow, those two seem to be having the time of their lives." Chan chuckles, pointing at someone behind you.

It's quite dark outside, the only source of light being a few decorative fairylights hung at random places haphazardly.

Hiding behind a huge, tall bush, you see a couple, kissing each other like it were the last day on the planet.

The guy's hands roam all over the woman's body and the woman is so loud that even you could hear her sighs and moans. When she pulls away to catch her breath for a second, Chan asks you, "You know her?"

"Nope. I don't know either of them."

You look away; what kind of creep looks at a happy couple like that? (Not a creep, just a lonely and touch starved person)

"Should we check out the dinner table?" Chan suggests and you agree with a nod, "I hope there's no crowd there."

As expected, there actually isn't a crowd there - there's only Changbin, sitting and nibbling on a pizza slice while scrolling through the phone.

The moment your eyes land on him, your feet as if stop on their own and your heart bangs furiously against your chest.

He's breathtakingly gorgeous.

By the time you debate in your head whether or not you want to sit there and fill your stomach, Chan has already made his way to Changbin.

"Hey, Bin!" He greets him with a smile.

Changbin looks at Chan with an unamused smile, the same one from your high school days, when these two were named the biggest rivals on campus. You wonder if somewhere deep in his heart, Changbin had still not let go of that rivalry.

"Hey, Changbin." You manage to whisper before sitting beside Chan.

He looks almost angry.

"You should have the pizza. It's good." He mutters, turning to pass you a slice of pizza on a plate, "Help yourself, Chan."

Yup, there it is. The Seo Changbin that would kill to be on top. You feel worse about dragging Chan here now when neither of you were having a good time.

"Thanks, mate. " Chan replies.

Your ears ring with the sound of approaching footsteps, and when a pretty girl comes walking in and takes Changbin in her arms, your heart stings. Like a fresh wound.

"Y/n.." Chan whispers to you as you watch the two collide in a loving embrace, Changbin smiling at her and running his fingers through her hair.

Your heart hurts at how happy and content he looks.

You could have had that, a part of you thinks, if you weren't such a coward, it would have been you instead of her.

"Y/n," Chan calls you again.

"What?" Your tone is harsher than you intended, "What happened?"

You think Chan is about to give you the whole it-is-time-to-move-on talk but he doesn't, instead he points at the girl and whispers,

"It's her. The girl we saw earlier."

The rest of the night is blurry to you, all conversations, all gazes, all thoughts just feel ....like an awkward dream.

"We have to tell Changbin."

You're sitting at Yang's Cafe at 1 am the same night, watching Jeongin's brother guide his staff to clean the place up.

"I agree." Chan says, biting the inside of his cheeks.

While you, on the other hand, are completely zoned out, staring at the glass of water placed in front of you and watching the droplets on its surface race each other.

"Y/n, what do you think?" Jeongin asks when you don't take part in their discussions.

You sigh, "I don't know. I really don't. As much as it troubles me that Changbin is being cheated on, I don't want to get involved in their personal relationship. "

"Let's not tell anyone for now, then. But someday in the future, before that goddamn wedding, we have to tell him. He deserves to know." Chan agrees.

You purse your lips and close your eyes.

Chan is right.

Changbin deserves to know the truth.

*

"So, how's it being back in town, y/n?"

"It feels good. Weird, but good." You smile at your old teacher, "How have you been, Miss Oh?"

Your teacher adds sugar to the cup of tea in her hands and then looks at you, smiling - the same old smile, except with more wrinkles now, "I've been good. I'm retiring next year so I'm glad I could see you before that, huh?"

You nod your head, "I'm glad too. The school hasn't changed much, unlike what I had expected."

Other than the addition of some new labs and libraries, and the change in color of the walls, everything was still the same. No place in this old school building feels foreign to you.

"Ugh, these administration people I tell you, y/n, they're cheap idiots. They won't spend a single penny on infrastructure unless it's absolutely necessary." She complains as you giggle in response,

"They've always been like that."

Miss Oh gulps some tea from her cup, "Anyway, y/n, I have a class now. I would have loved to stay and chat, really, but I'm afraid that might get me in to trouble."

"No issues, Miss Oh. Go ahead. I'll just roam around the school a little more though, if that's okay."

After Miss Oh leaves, you step out of her cabin and walk the familiar corridors, reminiscent of the memories you have here. Studying a few minutes before tests, bunking classes, running to class when you're late, hanging out with your friends- these corridors have seen you grow in love, in friendship, in life. There's absolutely nothing that could ever replace these memories.

Mindlessly, you wander around the third floor, walking toward the end of the corridor before stopping in front of an old door, way too familiar to not try and push open.

While a part of you tells you it might not be a good idea to go into that room again, there's also a part of you that thinks it's a bloody brilliant idea.

Pushing the door open, you walk into the old dusty room, sighing in relief when you see a particular set of letters still carved on the wall.

CB and YN were here.

You finally let your tears run free, as you crouch down to touch the letters.

Your heart aches at how much you miss Changbin being an important part of your life and how much you miss being his top priority. And your heart aches for Changbin, who is so in love with his fiancé and has no idea he's being cheated on.

You almost want to leave this town and go back to your mother, away from this terrible mess. Yet you don't find it in yourself to act on those thoughts.

Maybe, it is your fear of abandoning him once again that stops you. Or, maybe it is simply the unconditional love you harbor for him.

* Surprisingly, Yang's Cafe is near empty that afternoon.

"Did something happen, y/n? You look really worried." Changbin has his arms crossed over his chest, looking at you with a tense frown.

"Um..it's kind of complicated." You sigh. For a second, you see the genuine concern and innocence on his face, and you wonder if it is worth telling him the truth at all because it would kill you to see him lose his smile but then, his engagement band shines on his ring finger and your stomach turns unpleasantly.

He has to know. From you. In person.

"Changbin, that day at your party...I saw something. " You whisper, "Something I shouldn't have. I should have turned a blind eye really but I can't. My conscience won't allow it. I'm sorry, Bin."

"Y/n, it's okay, just tell me," he reaches over and wraps his fingers around yours, soft and gentle, "You're scaring me."

"Changbin, your fiance is cheating on you. I-I saw her kissing another man that night. Chan saw it too." You feel sick even having to say this to him, "I think you should confront her."

He sucks in a deep breathe, his face completely void of any emotions as he extracts his hands from yours.

"I know." Is all he says.

His eyes drill into yours, as if accusing you of a crime. He looks angry. Just how he looked the day you brought Chan to his party.

"Why are you still marrying her then?" You question.

He sits up straight, "Y/n, I wish I could explain. But I can't. I'm sorry. And please, stay out of this, okay?"

"Why? Why should I stay out of it?" Your voice threatens to break, "I cannot watch my best friend marry a woman who's not loyal. You deserve better than this, Bin."

A sarcastic chuckle leaves Changbin's lips as he taps his foot against the floor, "Let me correct you, y/n. You were my best friend. Seven years ago. You're not anymore."

Your heart shatters.

A part of you knows you deserve this after ghosting him for seven long years. You were the center of each other's world at one point of time.How could you have been so selfish to ever think that your absence and lack of communication wouldn't hurt him?

"Changbin, I'm sorry for everything I did okay. B-but I never stopped thinking or worrying about you. Even for one second. And I still do."

Changbin pushes his chair back and stands up while you stay frozen in your seat.

"It doesn't seem like that though. "

"What do you even mean!"

"Chan. I mean Chan, y/n." He grabs his phone and purse, "Goodbye, y/n. I hope Chan turns out to be a better friend than I ever did." With that, the love of your life walks out of Yang's Cafe.

And for once, he doesn't even look back.

* "Y/n, don't let go of my hand!"

Changbin is panting heavily, his voice shaking with fear as he desperately tries to hold onto you.

He should have known it would be a bad idea to play badminton near the infamous cliff in your town yet when you had showed him your innocent smile and pleading eyes that day, he just couldn't say no.

Your sweaty hands clutch his, legs dangling over the edge of the cliff. Your free hand grabs the rough surface of the rocky cliff to keep yourself from falling.

You want to cry; but you're too traumatized to even let out more than a few terrified grunts. "Y/n," he yells, "I'm going to try and pull you up one more time, okay?."

You don't even remember how you had ended up in this situation; one second you were happily giggling, playing badminton with Changbin and in the next second, you found yourself hanging by the cliff, praying for your dear life.

With all the energy he has left, he tries to pull you up onto the surface.

"Y/n, you have to free the other hand. Let go of that rock." He pants.

You shake your head vigorously, you know you would not survive if you let go of the rock, you'd fall thousands of feet below into absolute nothingness.

"Y/n, please listen to me." Changbin pleads, now crying, "Please. I'll catch you, I promise. I'll not let you die. Just..please."

Changbin sounds like he's about to give up and in all honesty, you couldn't blame him really. Everytime your eyes fall on what's beneath you, a part of you loses hope.

"Please, come on, y/n," he's still pulling at your free hand, while his right hand awaits desperately to grab the other hand. A mixture or sweat and tears grace his face, making him shine under the bright afternoon sun. Your heart aches at the mere thought of never seeing him again- your friend, your childhood crush, your partner in everything.

Well, here goes nothing then.

You suck in a deep breath and let go the Rock, immediately reaching for Changbin. He is quick to grab both of your arms and in one swift movement, he pulls you up onto the surface.

You fall onto his chest, "Y-you saved me."

Changbin let's out a sob mixed with a relieved giggle, pulling you into his arms.

Your eyes feel heavy, as darkness slowly begins to engulf your vision.

"Oh God, I am so sorry this happened, y/n. It's all my fault." He cries, rubbing your back softly, "I'm so sorry. I thought I was going to lose you, oh God. Fuck!"

You want to tell him that it was never his fault, and that you wouldn't even be alive if not for him but your body betrays you and your body goes limp against his.

*

"I'm not leaving this neighborhood."

Your hands rest angrily on your waist as your mom frantically walks from your closet to where the suitcase is spread open on your bed, shifting all your clothes. She dumps them inside the suitcase, not bothering to fold them even.

"You will do as I say! That Seo Changbin tried to push you off of a cliff and heaven knows what he might do next!" Your mom yells back.

You sit at the edge of your bed, trying to keep yourself calm, "Mom, I told you it was an accident. I fell because I was going after the shuttlecock and didn't notice the cliff. Moreover, why would my best friend want try to kill me!"

Your mom let's out a sarcastic laugh, closing the suitcase roughly. She looks at you with eyes full of contempt and a part of you knows that there's no point in trying to convince her. Her mind is already made. Yet you refuse to go down without a fight.

"You're just sixteen, sweetie. You don't know anything about the cruel world, " your mother sighs, "Rich people are not friends with anyone. Changbin may be nice to you but he only sees you as a pathetic poor girl."

"Mom, we're not even poor!"

"Yes, I know. But those filthy rich businessmen consider everyone below their economic status poor. His family probably doesn't like him being friends with you which is why they asked him to get rid of you."

You think of Mrs. Seo's face in your head, always smiling and always welcoming. You remember Changbin's sister and how she'd promised to let you borrow her dress for this year's winter prom. And you think about Changbin- his face, his smile, his passion for music and his protectiveness towards you. Why would these people ever want to hurt you?

"Mom, you're being ridiculous right now! Do you even hear yourself!" You stand up from the bed, now beyond frustrated.

She walks upto you and grabs your arm tightly, nails digging into your skin as you whimper slightly. "You will listen to me. I am your mother and you will listen to me. " she growls, "Pack the rest of your stuff. We're leaving tomorrow."

When she finally walks out your bedroom, your first instinct is to dress yourself in your black hoodie and track pants, and quietly slip out of the back window of your room.

The cold air nips at your skin, goosebumps slowly appearing on your arms and legs but you're too preoccupied to pay too much heed to it.

You reach Changbin's house and like always, walk up to the backyard and climb upto his room through the emergency staircase.

When Changbin hears knocks on his window, he quickly removes his headphones, "y/n?"

He walks upto the window and let's you in, his heart more at peace now than it's ever been the entire day. The guilt from the accident you had earlier was clawing at his conscience.

His room is mostly dark except for his table lamp. You notice the lyrics notebook lying on the table, open with some scribbles and random phrases on the pages.

"How are you feeling?"

You sit at the edge of his bed, cross legged while he kneels on the floor to get to your level. His hands find yours naturally.

"Fine," you swallow the tears that have been accumulating since you left the house, "Changbin, I- we're leaving tomorrow."

Changbin is taken aback; his heart shattering into billions of pieces at your words.

"Leaving? What do you mean Leaving?" his voice trembles.

You lick your dry lips and tell him everything your mom had told you earlier. When his face twists bitterly, a part of you wishes you'd held your tongue yet a bigger part of you wants Changbin to know the truth now; you didn't want him sending you off with lies in his mind and the fear of him finding out some years later just killed you inside.

"I'm so sorry, Changbin. Mom's just not been okay after the divorce." Your voice breaks when Changbin refuses to look at you, "I know she's speaking bullshit. But there's absolutely nothing I can do to change her mind, I've tried I swear. I'm sorry, Changbin."

When Changbin finally does look at you, even in the dim lit room, you see the tears glistening on his face, mirroring the ones that roll down your cheeks. "Why are you sorry, y/n? I don't blame your mom." He mutters, "It was partly my fault. I should have taken more care, I-"

You cup his cheek, "Shh. Bin, are we really going to spend my last night here crying and blaming ourselves? We might never see each other again."

The words sink deep into his soul, and he nods. He wills his tears back in as he grabs your hand tighter.

"Okay. What do you wanna do?"

You smile a little, "You're not gonna like it though. "

"Stargazing it is then." He giggles a little as the both of you make your way to balcony attached to his room.

It is quiet outside, unlike the noise in your head and you feel the calmness spreading to you when you look up at the stars.

Changbin brings a picnic mat from inside and spreads it out on the floor, along with two pillows and a blanket.

"We'll stay in touch, yeah? If you ever need anything, I'll be right here." He reassures you, lying beside you, hands behind his head.

You smile yet you cannot bring yourself to promise him the same because you know your mother would do everything in her power to push the two of you apart, even to the point of physically hurting Changbin. You would never want that so you'd rather distance yourself and let Changbin forget about you. And maybe, just maybe fate would be a little nicer to you and decide to bring you into his life again. Many years later.

He presses a soft kiss to your head, "You'll always be my best friend, y/n. I don't care how far we are."

It takes everything in your being to not repeat the words.

*

"Changbin, come on we're getting you to the hospital this instant, okay?" Mrs. Seo is furious next morning, running from room to room, looking through the list of doctors she'd saved just in case of emergency.

When she looks at her son, sitting on the sofa with one of his eye irises turning a glowing red, she is reassured that this is an emergency.

"How did this even happen, mom? I swear I didn't try to do anything funny with my eye." He murmurs, scared, "It feels so itchy, gosh!"

Mrs.Seo looks at him with concern just when the doctor picks the call, "Oh, hello Dr.Lee! Thank god you picked up!"

After his mom walks out of his room, Changbin quickly types you a text,

Binnie: Hey. Did you leave already?

Y/nnie: No not yet. We've stopped at the doctor's.

Changbin's eyes widen in alarm.

Binnie: What why?

You look at your face in the decorative mirror at the doctor's waiting room, one of your irises burning into a bright shade of ruby.

Y/nnie: Mom's running a cold.

You close the messenger app before he even replies, deciding to change your number and deleting all your old contacts as soon as you move into your new house. And as much as it hurt you, this one text turned out to be the last time Changbin and you ever talked.

*

It has been raining all day, which means you were stuck in your goddamn house with nothing to do but cry about Changbin and your lost friendship and your broken heart.

After you manage to get some food into your body during dinner time, you crawl back to your room and look into the mirror as you comb your hair and moisturize your skin.

(Self care is important, y'all)

Your red iris stares back at you, taunting your mistakes and calling you a coward.

If only you had still tried to keep in touch with him, if only that stupid accident wouldn't have happened in the first place, if only.

Suddenly, a knock on your balcony door makes you jump in your place.

Shit. Is it a burglar?

You grab the closest thing that could be classified as a weapon - which happens to be an umbrella.

The knocking continues.

"Y/n, it's Changbin." He yells, "Can I please talk to you?"

You freeze in your spot.

Why in the world is he here? Does he have anything worse to say? Is he here to invite you to his wedding? But why would he sneak in through the balcony when he can easily ring the main door bell.

"Y/n, are you in there?"

You quickly walk upto the door and slide it open, revealing Changbin, completely drenched in the rain. His wet hair stuck to his face and "Shit. What the- God, come inside!"

He obeys and tiptoes inside your room, a guilty expression plastered on his face.

You guide him directly to the bathroom and offer him a towel.

"What are you even doing here, Bin?" You lean against the door frame, hands crossed over your chest.

He is drying his hair with the towel when he looks up at you as if to answer your question but he stops. His mouth hangs open as his eyes remain glued to your face.

And that's when you realize why he looks so surprised.

"Shit- fuck." You turn around immediately, "my lenses," you mutter to yourself.

But before you can even walk upto your dressing table, Changbin has caught your wrist and spun you around, pulling you closer to his body.

"Your eye." He let's out a shaky breath.

"Yes, I know. Please don't freak out. It's always been like this after -"

"After the accident." He finishes your sentence, "I know."

Your mouth runs dry as his face draws in closer, "What do you mean you know? What do you know?"

He let's go of your wrist and takes a step back, turning around so that his back faces you.

And when he turns to look at you again, you swear you could have passed out there and then.

"Y-you have it too." You whisper, weak in the knees, "You have a red iris too."

Changbin gives you a small smile, "Yes, y/n."

"But why? What does this mean?" You say, "Is it a symptom of some chronic illness?"

"It's a soul mark."

"What's a soul mark?"

"It's a mark that exists on the bodies of soulmates."

You feel a pang in your chest; like someone was squeezing your heart out of your chest.

"Right," You fall back onto the bed, dazed with the sudden piece of information, "And how do you know all this?"

Changbin kneels down in front of you, hands finding yours. He looks more relaxed than he did since the first day you come back to town.

It almost feels like you had been given back your old friend.

"I've been doing my research, y/n. After you left, this is all I've been doing." He says, "This is also the reason why I had gotten engaged. By that time, I had given up on finding a soulmate. So I just settled for whatever I got. I didn't even feel bad when I found out my fiance was not in love with me. For the world, we might look like a happy couple, but truly, it was just a marriage of convenience for our parents' business."

You bite your lips wondering how to respond to these words. He'd laid bare his heart in front of you, something you never thought he'd do ever again.

"What now?" You say, tired.

He intertwines your fingers, "Also, I'm sorry for yesterday. I shouldn't have said all that."

You nod, "It's alright. I know you didn't mean it. And for the record, I and Chan have nothing going on."

"And for the record, I also broke off my engagement."

Your eyes widen as a gasp leaves your lips, "What? Why?"

"Because when I told my parents that I do not love my fiancé, and that I have only ever loved you, they said my happiness was more important than their business."

When you don't reply to his words, he looks worried, "Hey, you don't have to feel burdened to like me back and all okay? Literally, if you want me to leave you alone, I will. I understand-"

You pull him by the nape and place the softest, gentlest, most sincere kiss on his lips.

"I feel the same way, dumbass." You sigh as you pull him into your arms.

He muzzles his face in the crook of your neck, playing with your hair from behind, "So what now?"

"Let's start with a date." You say, "Let's take it slow."

Changbin wraps his arms tighter around you, kissing your cheek, "As you wish, my love. "

[asset35-maya]

[REED900 EDEN CLUB AU]

Most people who visit the Eden Club are there to fulfil their fantasies. Some are elaborate, some are simple… and some are quite unspeakable. Things you’d never dare to ask of a fellow human.

Gavin Reed is one such patron. He, too, has a deep dark fantasy that would cause his entire reputation to crumble should anyone find out. His fantasy… is LOVE.

It’s a little pathetic honestly, but Gavin has a part of his monthly savings set aside for discrete visits to the club. Hours-long sessions where he can drop the toxic bravado and pretend he’s in the safe and happy confines of a loving relationship.

//

He whispers sweet nothings into synthetic ears and coaxes simulated orgasms out of plastic bodies. He tests out affection, phrases and terms of endearment. He practises how to kiss with meaning, how to congratulate a loved one on an achievement, how to ask someone to marry him. He plays house.

Gavin picks a different android each time, and it’s just his luck that Cyberlife seems to launch new models almost in sync with the seemingly endless romance film premieres on Netflix.

He tells himself he’s kind of heeding the advice from his family and friends to start dating. All the visits to the Eden Club count as practice. There’s zero judgement from the blank-faced androids, so he can mess up and try again over and over. Practice makes perfect. He’ll be perfect by the time he meets the one. And he’ll know when it’s the one, because he’s been with so many different types. Oooh! And the body count doesn’t matter because androids aren’t real people. Yeah! Foolproof!

//

Then one day he’s absolutely blown away by a pair of new models on display. Two achingly handsome men with the same face. A lean, brown-eyed bot and his taller, more muscular, blue-eyed clone. (Basically, the authorities caught wind of the highly risky RK development program at Cyberlife and they found a quick way to hide the prototypes at the Eden Club)

Gavin struggles to choose between the new models, but finally picks the blue-eyed RK900. Gavin is a caregiver at heart, and somehow doesn’t see the RK800 playing along well. There’s a little too much self-assuredness in that open and inviting smile. The RK900 however, exudes a certain vulnerability despite the outwardly intimidating physique. (Or is that just Gavin projecting?)

Gavin takes the RK900 by the hand and pulls him into a bedroom suite. He’s got a full scenario planned out in his head. This one will be a workplace romance. The RK900 will be his partner and the context is that they’re finally falling into bed together after several counts of flirtatious banter shared during investigations.

//

The android plays along remarkably well. There’s intelligence and humour in their interactions… and it feels so damn real. The teasing, the playing coy, the gasps of sexual gratification are nothing like the programmed bullshit Gavin is used to seeing from the usual companion models at the Eden Club. If he was looking for love, this sure felt like it.

Gavin wonders whether the RK900 has some deeper purpose in a moment of post-orgasmic clarity… and is just about to ask when the android’s eyes glaze over, LED spinning rapidly… resetting, as the paid session ends.

The thought doesn’t leave Gavin’s head even after he discreetly leaves the club. It sticks with him, and his fantasy gets more and more elaborate. After several sleepless nights spent fixating on the memory of the RK900’s touch, Gavin becomes convinced that he’s met some kind of synthetic soulmate. It’s ridiculous, but he feels possessive… he yearns for the RK900… Nines, as he’s started mentally referring to him.

//

Breaking a personal rule, Gavin returns to the Eden Club for the second time that month.

He dimly acknowledges the absence of the RK800 display unit and deletes the HR email informing the homicide department about their new android colleague, Connor. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Gavin connects the dots but he can’t bring himself to care.

He empties nearly all his bank savings to book an entire week’s worth of sessions with Nines, back to back. His frenzied mind has concocted some kind of wedding and honeymoon scenario, and he’s too far gone to exercise any self-restraint… or self-preservation, now knowing fully what the RK900 model is.

It’s pitiful. But that’s generally how things in Gavin Reed’s life are.

But still… not as pitiful as the manner in which Nines deviates. The red wall shatters in the midst of a circuit-frying climax. He gains his freedom writhing underneath the desperate thrusts of a lovesick loser. Actual tears stream down his face because the man called him his precious babydoll darling husband.

As the last session of the week runs out, and the make-believe honeymoon comes to a close, Gavin fears the worst… but Nines’ eyes remain radiant and full of recognition. The android snuggles closer underneath the sheets, completely unwilling to let go despite the timer ringing loudly through the suite.

//

Since Gavin’s going bankrupt and probably about to be removed from police duty for reasons of financial embarrassment, he tells himself that it doesn’t matter if he commits a small crime.

Or a big one.

Nines disables the security cameras at the club and the two sneak out into the sunset.

Of course, there’s hell to pay, for the both of them… but it’s worth it.

Completely worth it.

Years later, with actual rings on their fingers, they return to that same honeymoon suite and recreate how it all began.

[ghostlywritten]

If Only I Had Stayed In The Shadows - Chapter Four

James Potter x OC

Words: 3,3k

Prologue  Chapter One  Chapter Two   Chapter Three

A few weeks passed and we soon had reached the second half of November. By now, it was snowing heavily on the Hogwarts grounds, footsteps barely printing the ground before it was filled with a new batch of the white powder.

The classrooms were thankfully warmed and for once I didn't wish the lessons to end to avoid going outside. Letters to and from the outside world had stopped unless it was a big emergency to let the poor owls rest. Lucky for me, I had sent the last letter for the year to my parents consisting of the message that I would not do an internship at the Hospital Wing in the near future (or at all, but pssh). Lucky because my parents wouldn't send our family owl back no matter how angry they would get. Thus, I wouldn't have to think about their wrath until Christmas break.

Madam Pomfrey - whom I started calling Poppy in my head after hearing Dumbledore call her that once - still got half of the small packages of sweets once a week without a word. The other half went into James' stomach, who insisted he could still maintain his abs with playing Quidditch.

Practice was a pain in the ass and the next game against Slytherin was not something anyone of us were looking forward to. Especially the Captain was annoying during the time before this game, insisting to have more sessions than normally scheduled.

It was usual for people to watch practice – mainly the respective partners or friends – but only the supportive – and therefor maniac – ones would stay outside in a blizzard-like weather like this. I tried sneaking off from time to time but James was always already there to intercept me in my escape route.

Imagine my surprise when I saw not only Marlene next to Alice but also Lily, huddled closely together on the stands between the other stranded ones.

"Alright Beaters up now, I'm gonna release the Bludgers. Try to improve your aim." Sirius und Frank grumbled as they stayed up on their brooms whilst the rest of us got down, breathing heavily. "We are probably going to have to play in a weather like this! So we better be prepared!" James yelled after them, releasing the Bludgers.

"Have you looked at the stands already?" I asked as I resisted the urge to huddle into him, choosing to just place myself behind him for wind protection.

"Yeah, I'm always on the look-out for the sneaky snakes," James replied with a smirk over his shoulder, causing my heart to leap slightly.

"A-alright…but have you also noticed a certain red-head up there to your right?" I leaned over just in time to see his eyes flicker towards that area.

"Yeah, I have noticed," he said with an indifferent tone.

I raised an eyebrow, waiting for a second, "…And?"

"And what?"

"That's it?"

"What do you mean?"

"You see the love of your life and all you have to say is 'Yeah, I have noticed'," I mimicked his voice, causing him to raise an eyebrow at me, "Didn't you promise that you wouldn't give up on her? I haven't seen you trying to pursue her in the past weeks."

James stayed quiet for a while, shouting an order towards the two Beaters. "James?"

The dark-haired boy sighed before he turned to face me, "And what about you? I haven't seen you try to get that internship, either."

"I have!"

"Leaving the sweets at her door is not trying."

"How do you know about that?" I asked surprised.

"I have my ways," he winked, "So what's going on?"

It was my turn to sigh this time, "...She is just been stressed and very unapproachable. Especially last week…," I hinted, watching his smile fade in realisation. It had been a full moon night. He cleared his throat awkwardly, "Well, you should maybe not try then anymore."

"….Oh? All of a sudden?"

"Yeah. And I'm not gonna try, either."

"What?" I stared at him in surprise, "What happened?"

"Nothing, I'm just sick of chasing something that seems unavailable," James said indifferently, "That promise was a dumb thing to do."

I swallowed slightly, wondering why I felt hurt about him breaking our promise. "Hey, listen," he appeased, noticing my expression, "I mean, I shouldn't have made you promise to keep asking her when it seems that she won't budge at all."

Nodding, I figured he was right. I wasn't really trying for good reason anyways. And he seemed to have realised that it wouldn't work out, either. But how…

"Why do you think that all of a sudden?"

"Er…," he scratched his neck, "I might have tried to persuade her to take you in." My eyes bulged. "What?!"

"Yeah…I kind of…had a slight – a very slight – suspicion why she wouldn't take you in as an intern," he started slowly, looking everywhere but at you, "And I offered a solution…but she still refused."

I stared at the shuffling boy in front of me, "You…tried to get that internship…for me?" My voice was almost breathless as I thought about what he had done more deeply; he had actually tried to find a solution for me despite his best friend's secret. "What- what was that suspicion?" I forced myself to ask, wondering what he would tell me.

"It doesn't really matter," he waved off quickly, "I just suggested to her to schedule your training periods around the…suspicion…yeah…and it didn't work."

…

I had the sudden strong urge to grab him by his Quidditch robes and kiss him senseless.

"Thank you, James," I said sincerely, blushing at my own thoughts, "Really…that's the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me." His cheeks already slightly flushed from the harsh wind reddened some more. "It's nothing."

"No, it's not nothing," I insisted, placing my hand on his arm. He didn't know I knew but I still wanted him to understand how important that was to me, "I'm really, really thankful, James."

"It didn't even work out, you don't have to be so embarrassing now," James tried to joke slightly, swallowing as he watched my beaming smile. Biting my lip, I forced to keep my arms down in order to not crush him into a hug, "Why are you staring at me like a creep?"

I shook my head with a grin, "I guess I'm just surprised what a sweet person you can be?" He spluttered slightly in protest, "Oh yes, Potter. Underneath all that prankster façade is a tiny, sweet boy…," I teased him before turning slightly serious, "who would do anything for his friends."

James puffed out his chest in pride, nodding, "I agree with the last part."

Laughing, I shook my head and let go of his arm. "I owe you something, siriusly."

"It didn't work out, though?" James questioned before shaking his head, "Nevermind, why am I complaining?" I laughed again as the Beaters went down, puffing heavily.

"Are we done yet?" Sirius huffed.

"Oh. Sorry, Padfoot! I didn't watch. Do it again!" James yelled over the wind, causing the two to groan in annoyance, "Hey, now. This is not the way to groan at your Captain!"

"Stop flirting then and pay attention!"

I was glad for the harsh wind now as it hid my tomato face. James chuckled slightly, "Sorry Pads. Couldn't resist."

"Oi, what the hell are you on about?" I grumbled, punching his arm.

"Ouch, woman," James complained, and I rolled my eyes, it wasn't even that hard of a hit, "I was just kidding. Now get your ass up there. It's time for an actual game!"

Needless to say, practice got us cold and sore after another hour, leaving us to yearn for nothing but a nice hot shower. I was about to head inside the lockers room, smiling tiredly at Marlene, Lily and Alice as they came up when James called me back to him.

Figuring he was just going to comment on my training session, I trudged back with curses muttered under my breath.

"Are you going to Slug's Party this weekend?" James asked outright and I blinked for a second in surprise at the sudden topic.

"Yeah, why?"

"Cool, let's go together then," he suggested, ruffling my hair with a quiet smirk as I stared at him dumbfounded.

"Ehm, what?" I mumbled; my words overshadowed by Marlene's shriek of 'WHAT', "Why?"

"Why not?" James asked back, leaving me slightly speechless when I had no argument against it either. "It's settled then. I will pick you up at the Common Room at eight."

"Alright," I muttered as he walked backwards towards the locker rooms, waving goodbye at me before he turned and went inside.

What just happened?

-

"I told you!" Marlene squealed, bouncing on her bed as we all got ready for the evening, "I told all your asses this would happen!"

I rolled my eyes as I shuffled into a plain blue dress, charmed to keep me warm and deciding to just leave my hair down for once.

"What do you mean?" Lily asked indifferently, looking stunning in her long red dress whilst she put on some earrings. She even managed to straighten her hair, which I still wondered why she would in the first place. I had straight hair, so I am a reliable source when I say it's boring.

"I mean," Marlene pressed, "That James Potter has actually started to look elsewhere for once. And his eyes are now set on Cecily!"

"You are being ridiculous," I said, trying to hide the tiny flush creeping up my cheeks, "He asked me as a friend. And you are still my date, you know?"

"Doesn't matter," the brown-haired beauty said dismissively, "It's the first step to romance. Pretending to be friends."

"Then why hasn't he ever tried to use that move on Lily?" I pointed out and she went quiet for a second, pondering on it before she said, "He's just dumb." A collective sigh resounded through the room. "I'm serious, though. Why is no one seeing this but me? It's so exciting, too. Cecily is finally getting a boyfriend!"

I sat down on my bed to put on my shoes, a tiny smile gracing my lips without my intention. "Look, how happy she is!" Marlene pointed at me almost accusingly as she looked at the others for confirmation.

"Oh, shut up already," I grumbled, embarrassed and she threw me a sleazy wink.

"Lily, what do you think?" she suddenly asked the too quiet girl in the back, who was absently fiddling with a chain in her hand.

"What?" she asked, blinking slightly.

I smiled. 'Who is the daydreaming one now?' "You need help with that?" I asked, ignoring Marlene's chatter in the background about my non-existent love life. Lily nodded, smiling back softly but stayed quiet otherwise.

"You must be relieved, too, Lils," Alice suddenly pointed out, appearing from the bathroom in a cute white dress, "With James finally stopping his pestering."

"Yes, for sure," Lily said but I noticed the usual fervour in her voice whenever she talked about James was missing, leaving it mellow. As I looked up, she was watching me through the mirror with a thoughtful expression.

"Everything alright?" I asked and she simply nodded, turning away with a 'Let's go'. Shrugging to myself, I followed the girls out towards the Common Room, fashionably late…I hated being late.

"Damn, what took you so long?" James greeted me with an eyeroll as he stood up from his hunched position with Sirius in front of the fireplace.

"Hello James. I'm fine, thank you. You look fancy yourself," I said sarcastically, and he gave me a peeved look, though his lips were twitching upwards.

"You would be the same if someone made you wait for half an hour, woman," he complained after the others greeted each other and we started heading towards the dungeons.

"I would still be polite in my greetings," I said poshly whilst wondering about the eager-looking Sirius peeking at us over James' shoulder.

"Oh yeah?"

"No. I would punch you for wasting my time." James laughed quietly, hooking my arm through his as we walked down the steps. "Hello Sirius, by the way."

Sirius perked up. "Hello to you too, dear Cecily. How are you feeling this fine evening?" he asked with a overly nasal tone.

"I'm feeling just splendid," I replied in the same voice. James made a face when I gave him a look. "This is how you greet someone, James."

"Please no," Sirius said in his normal tone, "It's the way purebloods greet each other."

"I was just going to say that reminded me of the way Slytherins talk," James laughed, causing some peers around us with green ties to glare in our direction.

"Or Ravenclaws when they recite something from the books in class," I added, and they nodded in agreement.

We entered Slughorn's class and I had to momentarily blink at the different sight from the usual dark interior. Every year Slughorn would change the décor and theme of the party although it would always be a little Christmas-like for a little thrill of anticipation. For me, it only reminded me of all the presents I had yet to shop for.

"Hello, my dear students," Slughorn greeted us with wide arms, ushering us inside, "My my, almost all my best students from Sixth Year at once!"

"Except for Marlene," I muttered, nudging the girl's shoulder teasingly and she slapped my arm painfully. Hey, she got here only because of me, I was allowed to poke fun at her for once. Her glare turned into a smirk when she noticed the arm hooked around James' and I looked away pointedly, ignoring her giggles at my red cheeks.

"Professor Slughorn, you have really outdone yourself with the decoration," Lily commented politely as the rest of us saw no point in making conversation with him and longingly stared at the food across the room instead.

"Finally," I muttered, grabbing myself a plate and handing one over to James to pile up something to eat. Marlene had slapped my hand away from anything edible throughout the whole day, insisting to keep my stomach from bloating to have a good figure for my dress. A dress that wasn't even tight-fitting.

"Someone's hungry," James remarked as he watched the pile on my plate grow higher and higher.

"Got a problem with a girl eating?" I asked with a raised eyebrow playfully and he grinned. "Not at all," he replied and put a cherry on top of my pile, causing us to chuckle.

We spent the first hour sitting down on one of the tables and chatting about nonsense as we ate, Slughorn occasionally fluttering past us, stopping for a quick talk and leaving as fast to attend to others. Looking around I was positive that there had never been so many people at one of his parties than this time around.

"He must be still looking for potential candidates for his trophy stand," James mused as if reading my thoughts. I noticed he did that a lot; knowing exactly what I was thinking.

"Hm, we must not be enough for him then," I commented. Sirius placed a hand over his heart dramatically, "How can you say that? We are lovely!"

"Lovely doesn't get you anywhere," James argued and puffed his chest out as I laughed, "Manliness does."

"Touché," Sirius agreed, puffing his chest out as well.

"You look like dumb idiots," I said with a shake of my head, still chuckling.

"Dumb and idiot mean the same," James said in a posh tone that would make a Ravenclaw proud.

"Two are better than one to describe your idiocy," I said, causing them splutter indignantly, "Oh hush. I'm just joking."

"You wound me still," Sirius said with a sniff.

The evening continued with the same light conversation and I couldn't help but settle in my position comfortably. Usually I would feel totally out of place in social circles like these, having a hard time to come up with mindless small talk, but it was somewhat easier with James on my side and Sirius on his respectively. The tables disappeared after a while to clear space for the dance floor, leaving me to mourn after the food that went with it.

"Now let's shag some legs!" Slughorn exclaimed enthusiastically. I choked on my drink whilst Sirius and James had a hard time keeping their laughter in as the music started blaring louder, soft classic music making space for some Wrock bands.

"Is that actually a real Muggle phrase?" Sirius asked between his barks of laughter whilst I watched Lily talk to Slughorn with a flustered face, probably trying to explain the right phrase to him. I bet you ten galleons that she was the one telling him about it in the first place.

"Something along the lines," I said with a small grin, rolling my eyes at the cackling boys next to me.

My feet were starting to ache from the heels Marlen had forced on me after a few more hours and I couldn't help but sigh in relief as James agreed to leave the slowly dwindling party close to midnight. "This was actually nice for once," James interrupted the sudden silence surrounding us, my ears still pounding from the too loud music.

"Yeah, it was way more fun than usual," I agreed.

"Was it because of me?" James asked with a wide grin and I rolled my eyes, bending down to get rid of my shoes to hide my blush. The dark-haired boy gave me his arm for support, and I sighed in relief as my aching feet hit the cool ground, immediately soothing my sore joints, "Wow, those heels were really high, weren't they? You are suddenly ten inches smaller."

"Oi, I'm not that small," I protested, looking back up only to have to crane my neck to see his crooked grin. "Oh, shut up," I mumbled, suddenly shy as I noticed how close we were standing. James chuckled softly before nudging me, "Come on, it's getting cold. Let's get you into the Common Room."

"You could lend me your robe like any gentlemen would," I pointed out and he gave me an affronted look, "And what about my freezing ass?" he asked in shock, causing me to laugh. I couldn't remember a time where I had laughed as much as this evening, my heart feeling light and floating around as if on clouds; an unusual but welcoming feeling.

Muttering a Heating Charm, I heard James sigh quietly in relief, apparently having felt really cold. "You know you are a wizard, right?" I asked him amused and he gave me look before grinning himself, looking away out of the window. We reached the Common Room, which was completely empty, and I would have almost automatically walked towards the fireplace if it hadn't been for the pure exhaustion from the evening catching up on me.

"You should sleep, we have class early in the morning," James said quietly as he watched my eyes droop every few seconds. He nudged me towards the staircase, "I can't carry you upstairs, the stairs are cursed."

I chuckled, walking up the way to the girls' dormitories as he stayed back, "It's not the staircase, it's the boys who are cursed."

"Cursed to fall at your feet," he added charmingly, smirking. I looked over my shoulder, shaking my head slightly. He had the most random bursts to flirt than anyone I had ever met before. "Good night, James," I simply said.

His brown eyes softened and for a second we stood there, staring at each other from across the room. I couldn't decipher anything from the distance, but it felt like something shifted in the atmosphere in that moment.

"Good night, Cec," he said faintly.

Chapter Five

[alj4890]

Delicate

(Olivia Nevarkis x Ethan Ramsey) (Olivia Nevarkis x Drake Walker) in a Choices The Royal Romance/Open Heart Crossover crack series.

A/N The story continues with their first date. Ethan remembers a night where he was ready to admit that he was attracted to Olivia. And during another date, Olivia gets a surprise from Cordonia. 

@jooous​ @krsnlove​ @nomadics-stuff​  @twinkleallnight​ @motorcitymademadame​

Masterlist

Part 2

Bistro Du Midi, Boston...

Ethan couldn't recall the last time he enjoyed a meal more than he was this one with Olivia. Though they had shared a number of meals the last few months at the hospital, something about this one seemed, well, more.

He knew it had to be because he had been honest with her in what he wanted. And surprisingly, she wanted the same.

A chance to be together.

While she was relating a story from one of her adventures with her friends in Cordonia, he studied her closely. Her red hair was down, making he yearn to run his fingers through it. Her emerald eyes lacked the suspicious edge he had witnessed directed at people she didn't know well. He loved that he had watched it slowly fade with each coffee date they had.

They were dates, he thought to himself. I didn't want to admit it to myself, but I went from using them to find out her true mission for the hospital to wanting to discover everything I could about her. Be near her. Have her undivided attention.

He prided himself on not simply falling for a pretty face.

Olivia is gorgeous.

He required more from people, like intelligence and steadfastness.

She is as sharp as those daggers she always has on her. Her ability to understand the complexities of not only medicine but also the trials I face both personally and professionally have left me astounded. For an outsider to step up and face my personal demons head on, without flinching, without wavering...how did I not notice it sooner?

************

The Royal Palace, Cordonia...

Drake paused on the way to his chambers when he overheard Riley say Olivia's name.

"Hana said that Olivia is wearing one of the dresses for her date tonight."

"So the suspicions you all have had are true?" Drake could hear the teasing in Liam's tone. "She and Dr. Ramsey have fallen for one another?"

"Working together allowed them to discover that there are some sparks worth exploring." Riley giggled. "I can't wait to meet him."

"If Olivia agreed to a date then it must be serious." Liam mused. "She wouldn't risk losing him to head the research hospital."

"You're right!" Riley exclaimed. "I thought Hana was joking about drawing up possible wedding gowns for Liv. No wonder she is looking ahead."

Drake staggered back.

This is why Maxwell suggested I go to Boston. He must have overheard Riley and Hana's conversation.

He headed to his room. He had some decisions to make.

*****************

Boston Opera House...

"Interesting choice." Olivia whispered as she read the title Turnadot on the program.

Ethan chuckled as he settled his arm along the back of her chair. "I thought you might think so."

She shook her head as a smile played about her lips. "I hope you aren't about to say that I'm anything like Turnadot."

"A cold woman who enjoys making men suffer with riddles, torture, and death until finally the right man comes along?" He winked at her. "Not at all."

She laughed softly, enjoying the lightheartedness she felt around him.

His fingers brushed her shoulder as he toyed with a lock of her hair. He found his attention couldn't remain on the opera. Seeing the contentment on his date's face held him captivated.

Ethan thought of the other times he had been unable to focus on anything other than her. There had been a few where her guard had dropped and he had seen a new side of the fiery duchess. One night in particular had caused him to realize his feelings for her had changed.

And he knew that it must have for her too...

**************

Two months ago, Edenbrook...

Olivia Nevarkis, report to the E.R. immediately.

"What on earth?" Olivia paused mid step on her way out of the lobby.

Why is someone paging me to the emergency room?

After two months at Edenbrook, she had learned every shortcut and exit.

Getting to the E. R. Was not a problem. Being called there like a member of the medical staff was the real mystery.

She scanned her I.D. and paused at the pandemonium that had erupted.

Her eyes immediately found Ethan at the center of the chaos as he gave orders to the ones working the graveyard shift.

She had never seen him in this type of situation before. Most of their time was spent walking down hallways or sitting in his office discussing aspects that she should present to Liam and the council with building a research hospital.

This was eye opening.

He's...he's impressive.

His blue eyes settled on her.

"Olivia, follow me." He ordered.

She quirked an eyebrow at not only his command but that he didn't bother checking to see if she was following him.

If she didn't know better, she would mistake him for a noble.

She hurried to catch up to him.

"What's happened?" She asked.

"There was a wreck on I-95." He explained. "Multiple cars involved."

Her brow furrowed with concern at the thought of using her nursing skills. "Are you shorthanded? Is that why you paged me?"

"In a way." He paused outside of a closed off section of the E. R. "I need you to sit with a child around five or six years old."

"What?" She blinked in surprise.

"Her parents were severely injured." He lowered his voice. "Both are in emergency surgery as we speak."

Olivia swallowed, averting her eyes. "I--I don't really have that much experience dealing--"

"Look around, Olivia." He motioned with his hand. "There is no one else right now."

She briefly closed her eyes. "Very well. Is she hurt?"

There was a  warm look of approval in his eyes that sent an unexpected fluttering in her stomach.

"Broken arm." He replied.

Olivia opened the door and preceded him.

She felt a jolt of déjà vu.

There sitting on the bed was a little girl with red hair.

Tears were running down her cheeks as she looked up at them.

"Kylie, this is Olivia." Ethan's deep voice was warm and friendly. "She is going to sit with you until your grandparents get here."

"What about Mommy and Daddy?" She sniffed.

"They are being taken care of." He told her. "In fact, I'm going to go see how they are and come back here to tell you." He lifted her arm that had a purple cast around it. "I'll make sure and tell your mom you picked her favorite color."

Olivia quietly observed as he helped calm the little girl down. He even caused her to giggle when he handed her a stuffed bear he had bought at the gift shop.

If only I had had someone like him when my parents died. To be given that kind of comfort during such uncertainty...

But Kylie's parents weren't dead. Nor were they traitors to their country, Olivia thought grimly.

Ethan turned to leave, pausing once more to look at the duchess.

"Olivia?"

She lifted her eyes to his.

He studied her quietly and gave a brief smile. "I'll be back."

Once the door shut, Olivia sat down in a chair by the bed.

Not knowing what to say, she hoped Kylie would rest or speak first.

"You have pretty hair." The little girl said.

Olivia reached up self consciously to smooth her hair. "Thank you." Her lips curved in a smile. "So do you."

"My daddy has red hair too." Kylie told her. "But he says his isn't pretty like mine."

Olivia nodded, unsure if she should agree or not.

"Does your daddy have red hair?" Kylie asked.

"No." Olivia grimaced at her harsh tone. Why her parents still brought this out in her irked her to no end. "He had brown hair."

"Oh." Kylie tilted her head. "Does your mommy have red hair?"

"Yes." Olivia lowered her eyes. "I used to love to brush it for her."

"I do too!" Kylie beamed at her. "But mine has yellow hair."

Olivia's forced smile disappeared when Kylie began to softly cry again.

"I wish mommy was here."

The duchess quickly rose to her feet unsure how to quiet these tears.

"Is there anything I can get you?" Olivia looked about the stark room. "Something to drink or--"

"I want my mommy." Kylie wailed, rubbing her eyes with her good arm.

Olivia sat down on the bed, intending to pat her back in sympathy.

Kylie instead crawled into her lap and nestled her head under Olivia's chin.

Momentarily shocked by this, the duchess lifted her arms a few times before gently hugging the little girl.

She spoke softly to her, reassuring her that her mother wanted to be here just as much.

She smoothed the red locks of hair off the damp cheeks, and rested her own cheek against the little head.

This type of pain she was well acquainted with. How often had she cried that very sentence into the darkness of her bedroom in Lythikos, just to have it unanswered?

Olivia silently prayed that this little girl would not suffer a similar fate. 

Something within her seemed to soften, almost break. It was as if that part of her heart that she had smothered through years of hardness cracked anew with each little tremble of the child in her arms.

Tears pricked her eyes when Kylie snuggled closer. The need to be held was something Olivia had tried to ignore most of her life. Holding this scared, tiny girl brought that feeling back, nearly causing her to cry out with her own anguish.

Ethan paused at the window on his way back in the room. His hard gaze softened at the sight of the fiery tempered duchess holding a sick child as if she was somehow dear to her.

He had suspected that she might have a tender side. He had caught glimpses of it throughout her stay. But tonight, he was able to witness it in full form. He especially noticed them whenever it was just the two of them, usually when their conversations turned from the hospital to more personal memories.

The few brief remarks followed by the stark despair in her eyes each time parents were mentioned had led him to believe she had not had a happy childhood. If it was anything like his own, then Olivia was a remarkable woman.

His own heart twinge at the thought of being abandoned by his mother. For years he had ignored it, repeating to himself that he had not needed her. Was he not one of the most sought after diagnosticians in the world?

Everything he had accomplished he had done without a mother or the need of one. His hardened heart had kept him focused. Driven. He prided himself by not feeling emotions that he considered a weakness in his line of work.

But something about the sight of Olivia holding Kylie touched his numb heart. It wasn't so much the sweetness of the moment, but rather that long ago despair being awakened. It was almost as if he had found someone who could truly understand his anger and hurt he had kept buried all these years.

"Excuse us. Are you Dr. Ramsey?"

He turned toward an older couple. "Yes."

"We were called about our daughter and family being in a car wreck." The man said.

Ethan quickly explained the injuries of the family of three. He reassured them that it looked well for their daughter and son-in-law.

"They are both in recovery." He told them. "Their surgeons were pleased with how everything went."

"And our granddaughter?" The woman asked.

He opened the door for them. "Right in here."

"Kylie!" Her grandmother wiped her eyes, smiling as the little girl held her arms out to her.

Olivia set her back on her bed, and silently made her escape.

Ethan excused himself, promising to keep them updated, and chased after the duchess.

He caught up with her when she stepped outside.

"Olivia?" He reached out and touched her back in concern.

She was struggling to take deep breaths.

"What is it--" his arms closed around her when she pulled him close.

Her head rested on his chest, eyes shut tight, as she tried to calm down.

His arms tightened around her when hers slid around his waist.

Neither was sure how long they stood like that. Not a word was spoken as they gave each other the comfort they so often denied themselves through the years.

There was something different about being held in Ethan's arms compared to the few times Drake had briefly embraced her. Perhaps it was simply that this wasn't occurring doing the heat of passion like her former lover's had been. Something though about this felt more intimate than all those other times before.

Eventually, Olivia stepped back. Her reluctance wasn’t lost on Ethan. He let his hands move to grasp hers, keeping her near.

"I'm...sorry." She lowered her eyes from his perceptive blue ones. "I don't know what came over me."

"No need to apologize." He squeezed her hands. "I..." He swallowed and looked down. "I needed a moment like that too."

Her head jerked up, eyes searching his face for any sign that he was merely saying that to make her feel less foolish. When she saw nothing but his own vulnerability at being caught needing a hug too, she relaxed.

He cleared his throat. "It's late. Why don't you let me drive you home?"

"Thank you." She noticed that neither of them was willing to let go of the other.

Ethan forced his fingers to slip away from hers. "I'll meet you in the lobby."

She watched him walk towards a set of elevators. His confident stride seemed less so as he turned to look at her once more.

For some reason, she felt like he needed her to give him some form of encouragement. Her lips curved somewhat into a half smile.

His own flashed before he disappeared in the elevator.

***************

Ethan knew in that moment that he was ready to admit at least to himself that he was falling for Olivia. He had been reluctant to suggest a date, but all that changed when he noticed that she seemed happier whenever he invited her out for coffee or lunch. Her smile came more easily. Her eyes had that sparkle that made it hard to look away. 

She had made him excited at taking a chance to see where this could go.

Now he intended that this date was the first of many nights spent together.

***************

Olivia’s heart raced when they finally were at her apartment. Clearing her throat, she invited him inside.

There was nothing Ethan wanted more than to spend the night with her. But he wanted to do this right. He thought she deserved everything, including himself, at its best.

“I intend on taking things between us as they should be.” He pulled her close. “You have no idea how hard it is to not step inside and...” His lips captured hers in a heated kiss.

Olivia felt herself melting against him. Each brush of his tongue, the soft feel of his lips contrasted by the prickly sensation of his stubble, all of it was a heady mixture that made her desire more. She wanted all that he placed before her: a true romantic relationship.

He groaned when her hands moved up his chest as their lips crashed together for another kiss.

He lifted his head, softly smiling at the smile forming on her slightly swollen lips.  “Why don’t we plan on spending the weekend together?”

“I’d like that.” She gently caressed his cheek. 

“So would I.” He kissed her once more swearing to himself that this would be as far as he could push his restraint. 

“We’ll talk tomorrow.” He added as he let his arms slide away from her.

She nodded, feeling a bit dazed by the emotions she felt from his words and touch.

They parted, each surprisingly happier than they had been before.

***************

The following weekend...

“...and that was how Thomas knew I was the one.” Amanda finished, laughing at the soft groan coming from her husband. “You know it’s true.”

“Not even close.” He wrapped his arm around her. “And you know that’s true.”

Olivia rolled her eyes to hide how pleased she was to see one of her closest friends with someone who adored her. She settled next to Ethan after offering refills of wine. She felt a brief burst of delight when he draped his arm along the back of the loveseat. His fingers toyed with her red hair before dropping to her shoulder. She felt her cheeks heat up at finally finding a man not afraid to show her affection in front of others.

Something about this felt so foreign and yet at the same time, it felt right. This was a whole new experience, one she thought she could easily get used to.

The two couples had enjoyed dinner at Olivia’s apartment. Though Ethan was familiar with Amanda during her sporadic visits to assist Olivia in her preparing to move forward with the research hospital, this was the first time he had met her husband. Uncertain what type of man the famous director would be, he found a somewhat kindred spirit in the gruff man. Like Ethan, he had little patience for foolish people. He seemed to prefer avoiding large crowds and such. And just like the doctor, he seemed most content with a particular Cordonian lady.

“I still say we go sailing.” Olivia added when suggestions for the next day were bandied about. “It’s been ages since I have had a chance to get out on the water.”

“I haven’t been in a while either.” Ethan added.

“I wouldn’t mind relaxing among the waves.” Thomas remarked.

“I guess this means we’re going sailing.” Amanda teased.

“Good, I knew  I would wear you all down.” Olivia smirked as they all chuckled.

Right when she got up to get dessert, her door was knocked on.

Her brow furrowed as she went to answer it. 

Seeing the last two people she would ever expect to visit her in Boston caused her to lose all ability to speak.

Her lips parted, yet not a sound came out.

Maxwell nudged Drake.

Clearing his throat, he slowly smiled at her.

“Hey Liv. It’s been a long time.”

[theholycovenantrpg]

In the beginning was EPHEMERA, an ANGEL loyal to the cause of the ANGELS. She is said to be IMMORTAL and uses SHE/HER pronouns. In this New Testament she serves as a MEMBER of the VIRTUES. Blessed be her name.

THE INDELIBLE MARK.

Ephemera was given the title Virtue of Prudence and was one of the first to be anointed this. She is widely regarded as the general of the legion of angels due to her clever strategy that was employed during the coup that took place in Heaven. Since then, she has often counseled both Zadkiel and Michael in war strategy as well as served as multiple times within Michael’s inner circle whenever he has sought another perspective. The blade of Prudence which she wields is known to be a stark contrast to the often-seen swords of flame that have been depicted not only within the bible of the Old World but that the archangels themselves wield. Her blade is known to look as though it has been cut from glistening ice. It has even been said to stop the hearts of mortals and to render celestials completely and utterly paralyzed. Though Ephemera would say that her glare has no problem achieving that anyway.

THE HISTORY.

It was as if she took the universe and held her blade to its throat, robbing it of everything that it could dare to offer her; any notion of glory or adventure, of romance or thrill -- it was all hers for the taking. She was never meant to be painted in shades of pastel as God had wished her to be, but in daring, garish shades of red, hues of purple as dark as a fading twilight sky, and stormy blues that bespoke of hurricanes and storms. From her mortal inception, she had only ever served to goad God and challenge Him -- thwarting His every attempt to mark her as His. She evaded his grasp, dancing away from the tips of His fingers, parrying every strike that He sought to serve her. And yet, He could not find it within Himself to loose His rage upon her, finding Himself utterly beguiled by the cleverness of His own creation. It was His folly for thinking that it was anything other than Ephemera’s own spirit that was owed credit for the legacy that she left with her people -- the legacy of the first woman to rally her people to prestige and glory, to rule them with nothing but wisdom and honor, to make of them something greater than the mediocrity that they knew. So, when her mortal life ended in a scarlet-tainted glory, it was God’s folly to grant her wings, and think that she might herald the legacy of any other creature than herself.

She found the life of a celestial being wanting, even with all the privileges that God allowed her and the many tasks of great import with which she was bestowed. They all applauded her for being the first mortal to be blessed with wings, their little laudations tipped with poison at the edges -- their spite for God’s creation poorly swallowed, the bitterness coating their words. So she did as they seemingly wanted and traversed to the earth once more, walking among the people that she so loved and longed for, their novel ideas and trinkets enthralling her just as assuredly as it had when she was a creature with a fleeting lifespan. For a time, she was able to watch from afar, allowing the knowledge of their wonder to satiate her. But her longing began to grow and grow, taking root in her heart until she was driven to near madness with it -- she had been a creature of little patience to begin with, so how could she expect to exercise something which she had little of to begin with? Ephemera began to mingle with them, guising herself as something close to mortal, as close to it as she could remember -- for the life of the celestial had begun to wear at what memories she had -- but it did not take long for the sons and daughters of Man to realize that something deified walked among them. After all, Ephemera could never paint herself in pale shades, she could only ever be rendered in vibrant, daring colors that bespoke of greatness and glory.

They called her Athena and Freya, Minerva and Nike. They recounted her glory in epics and legends, myths and folktales -- throughout Man’s history she was given different names but she appeared again and again. For centuries God was none the wiser, too enraptured by His own tales that were rendered in ink to give much thought to what devotion that she had incurred until it was too late for Him to stop them from etching her gilded name in temples and her heavenly visage in stone. When brought before the throne of God to answer for her blatant transgression, she did not bow her head nor did she throw herself prostrate at His feet. Tear my wings from me, she challenged, chin raised and eyes ablaze as they stared into her Creator’s, tear them from me and listen as they sing of my bloody story. But why would God ever want to cause ruin to a creature as novel and bewitching as she? Why would He want to tear at wings so beautiful and refined? Instead of casting her from the lofty heavens that, to her, were a gilded cage He only sought to draw her closer, to illuminate her in the wonders of His ways.

She could not wait until the moment she could illustrate her wonder with the edge of her blade. When Michael divulged to her the ire of his thoughts and his intent to  cast God from His throne, there was little thought on her part as to whether or not she would join him -- no, from the moment the silence fell over them her only thoughts were of the mechanisms that were required to accomplish such a feat. Ephemera thought of little else but the strategy that would need to be employed to toss the prideful deity from the pearly cage He had constructed, she thought of little else but stepping foot upon the soil of the earth once more. What sweet bliss it was, the moment when she stepped upon what is now the realm of Caelum -- and what a heady thing it was to be filled with such indisputable power, and dictate how this kingdom was to rise. She played no small part in its construction, and played an even larger part in cutting the Heretics down as though they were nothing more than dry wheat. But as this age of tenuous harmony descends upon this earth that was once so novel and bloody, Ephemera can’t help but wonder: what is there left for an angel that has rebuked any notion of peace?

THE CONNECTIONS.

SALOME: Ire. What hunger stirs beneath her skin whenever she lays her eyes upon Salome -- the demoness inciting within Ephemera a peculiarly reckless need to have the other’s attention on her and her alone. It feels to the bellicose angel like baiting the gaze of a viper or perhaps taunting a gaunt lioness with bloody, fresh meat; it is the closest she can come to coaxing the adrenaline of war without having to unsheathe her sword. The two fought side-by-side to rid the Holy Land of Heretics, and between them was fostered this wholly identifiable need to goad one another into furies, this undeniable obsession with stoking each other into simmering bouts of rage so that the only thing upon the other’s mind could only be satisfaction. Whatever is brewing between them seems as intense in its throes as an oncoming storm -- and Ephemera cannot help but ache for the clashes of thunder and the torrent of rain that is promised.

BASTIEN AVALOS: Gnat. Having a throng of admirers look on as she reigns with a fist of silver is not something that Ephemera is unused to -- over the centuries she has come to expect it, even among her celestial kin. What has become rather vexing is the inescapable puppy-dog gaze that seems to haunt her every twitch whenever she has the singularly aggravating misfortune of being within the same vicinity of the mortal boy, Bastien. He simpers at her steps as though she is an encyclopedia of the intricacies of war and gore which, in truth, she is. But that does not mean she wanted a whelp of a mortal to follow her every step, to barrage her with questions about battles she finds boring and strategies that are tedious to recount. Nevertheless, she indulges him still -- with gritted teeth and a poorly disguised scowl. Not because she yearns to be worshipped, no, it is simply because she hopes that the horrors she recalls will make him tuck his tail between his legs and scurry the other way.

DMITRI: Lure. There are very few creatures roaming about the world that are capable of capturing Ephemera’s undivided attention.  There are even fewer who would not balk in the face of her intensive focus -- eyes fixed and blazing, lips curled into a near-snarl. But instead, they stared at her, intrigued by the fractured nature of her gaze, even more fascinated by the fact that celestial wings sprouted from her back. They circle one another in equal parts like dogs, ears perked in equal parts curiosity and apprehension, waiting for the other to snap and bite so as to draw blood. Within the tension of their encounters, there is a quiet revelry, though, to know that there is another like them, so very different yet so compatible within their nature. The affinity that has grown between them is something few expected, and even fewer are glad to see. Why should anyone want to see the Horsemen of Conquest so in the hands of a conqueror so ruthless?

CADE BEKKER: Amusement. She sees how deeply he loathes -- not just her, but all things. From the path that he has set himself on, to the power he wields, to the great cosmos above he loathes it all. He thinks himself better for it and assumes that infernal rage is a worthwhile armor to wear, but Ephemera sees it for what it is. Fear. Utter fear that the world will devour him if he does not set it aflame first. She does nothing to disguise her amusement with him, especially when he turns those eyes toward her, as though many before her had fallen for the farce of his fury. Perhaps many had, but he should know better than to think that Ephemera might be one of them. One of these days, for her own satisfaction, she might provoke him into a duel -- the strength of an angel against the strength of a Gifted. But for now, she is all too content, watching him seethe.

Ephemera is portrayed by Veronica Ngo and was written by ROSEY. She is currently TAKEN by KIERSTEN.

[pastellarts]

First Day 9:42 Dragon

Summary: The people of the Inquisition have settled in Skyhold and take a break from their duties to celebrate the First Day at the request of their Inquisitor.

The Inquisitor was ecstatic about being back in Skyhold in time for the First Day. Not only because it meant he would enjoy some indoor warmth after wrapping up the mission in the Storm Coast, but also because it would be the first time in 22 years he would celebrate this holiday without any restrictions. In the past, he had been able to enjoy the day with his fellow mages from the Circle in Ostwick. Good wine and ale from Antiva, local specialties from the Free Marches, and the Templars engaging themselves in their own festivities allowed the mages to indulge themselves in a day of relative freedom and unsupervised joy.

But here in Skyhold, there were no templars overlooking at their alcohol consumption, no fear of accidents from drunken spells, no brawls to break up, no bloody fights.

Well, Sera and the Iron Bull would organize a drinking contest so bloody fights could break out as well.

But those fights – or any fights - will not result in him getting locked up in his chambers early.

He put on a tunic of silk in royal blue and some leather pants that were traditional in Ostwick. For some silly reason he wanted to show up as a Trevelyan tonight and share childhood stories with his companions and other people.

His face broke into a wide smile as he entered the main hall. Dozens of lanterns were hanging from the roof, along with other flashy decorations from all over Thedas, including Ostwick. Food and drink occupied every table and people from the keep were mingling with each other, talking, laughing, toasting, dancing.

“Inquisitor! You look splendid my Lord! I take it you honour your family colours with these pants?”

“Josephine!”, he bowed slightly. “This exceeds my childhood imagination of any First Day parties!”

“Really? I never took you for a First Day enthusiast my Lord. But I am glad you like it. I tried to put together insignia and decoration ideas from all over Thedas, even Tevinter. This is what the Inquisition represents after all.”

“Indeed,” Max added, looking over the swarmed crowd. “I’m glad we have no official guests tonight.” He was beyond relief that Josephine had agreed not to turn it into a big event with nobles and special unknown dignitaries. He desired this celebration to be more of a family affair for the people of Skyhold. Something to spread feelings of hope and gratitude, a sense of belonging and the means to fight the nightmares that still tortured the survivors of Haven.

He bid farewell to his Ambassador and mingled a bit with the crowd and some of his companions. His main daily goal was to drink, dance and sing with no care. Maryden and a few more people were doing a great job so far to keep plenty of partygoers on their toes.

About an hour later Max was enjoying the retelling of one of Dorian’s stories about a failed past First Day celebration.

“I will go fetch my lute!” Max almost yelled to Dorian as the necromancer mage filled his glass with more wine. “Bet Maryden knows a tune or two from the Free Marches!”

“Here, here! Show them how it’s done!” Varric raised his mug as an elated Max walked through the crowd to his quarters.

His stride brought him past the steps near the throne where he paused and turned to take a look at the party.

And there was her.

A simple red tunic and her usual leather pants. Her sword and armor missing. A drink in her hand. She was biting at a roast chicken leg while listening to Leliana, who had also skipped her usual attire for a dress.

Her eyes found his and the world was no more.

All that was left of him was an open mouth, a pair of thirsty eyes taking in her curves, and a heart swelling with every breath he took.

Since the day that she’d described to him the ideal romance in the barracks, he’d wasted no time to start looking for poems, roses and candles. Even if she had asked him to go to the Deep Roads and find a lost treasure, he would have not hesitated.

Cassandra brushed her thumb quickly over the left side of her upper lip – when did she finish her food?-  took a sip from her drink and graced Max with one of those smiles that were rare for anyone but him. And those smiles were not so rare anymore.

Maker, he was a fool in love.

He started for her, ignoring Varric’s yell about that damn lute and Dorian’s wolf whistle.

“Inquisitor, glad to see you are enjoying yourself, as is everyone,” Leliana offered him a cup of wine as he reached them. “This feast is just what we needed in Skyhold,” she tipped her own glass to him and took a sip.

“I hope you are also relaxing a bit Leliana”, Max raised his own cup. “Cassandra,” he said, awe and a bit of desire apparent in his tone.

“It’s good to see people celebrating. The sight of the everyone in a merry mood warms the heart,” Cassandra chimed in with a smile.

“Indeed.”

They chatted among themselves and with other people that approached them with well wishes for the new year.

“Off to find Josie and turn this into a real party,” Leliana announced and became one with the crowd.

Max stared after her in amusement. “I hope it’s not my undergarments that will end up pinned on any board in Skyhold if our Spymaster has her way with real parties,” he quipped.

Cassandra had taken a sip of her wine and sputtered at his words. Max turned in time to see her spewing some on the coat of the person standing right in front of her and couldn’t stop his guffaw if he tried. Cassandra herself burst into a mix of coughing and laughter and their nearby guests turned to them.

There was no time to spare. Flashing a wild grin Max tipped his own cup and laid a hand on Cassandra’s elbow, guiding her with haste to the doors leading to the garden.

Fresh air filled their lungs as soon as they made their way outside. They sat on a bench, backs on the wall, letting the chilly air and stillness calm their breathing and the lingering redness on their faces from their uncontrollable laughter earlier.

“I was not aware you knew the story about Leliana, Josie and the pinned undergarments.”

“I still don’t know the whole story,” Max pointed out. “And I am not sure I want to know all the details so let’s leave it at that.”

Cassandra closed her eyes and leaned back against the wall. Her fingers played softly with the bracelet she was wearing on one of her wrists.

Max noticed some engraved shapes on it. “Is this from Nevarra?”

“I have no idea,” Cassandra turned her wrist and observed the design. “It has dragons on it so perhaps.”

“May I?” Max raised her wrist closer to his eyes, observing the patterns.

“A gift from Anthony on our last Satinalia together,” she blurted.

“Beautiful and fitting for a Nevarran princess,” Max smiled at her.

“Clearly you have forgotten how much of a princess I actually am, Max,” Cassandra blushed and turned away, looking at the garden.

His eyes took in her mouth, closer to him this time but still not close enough. She had worn perfume tonight and somehow her hair seemed carefully styled.

So beautiful…

Heart in his throat, Max repositioned himself so that their thighs touched.

“I have not. But,” he wet his lips. ”What do you say if we are just Cassandra and Max for a moment?”

She had tried to avoid him, she really had. Ever since their conversation in the barracks, they had seen so little of each other. He’d left for the Storm Coast without her, giving her time and space to think and clear her head. He’d claimed he cared for her. His flirting had been insistent yet respectful. His stares were full of desire but stripped of any salacious traits.

No matter what she responded with to his advances, about their duties, their responsibilities, their roles, him being the Inquisitor, the war against Corypheus, he had not faltered a bit. On the contrary, he appeared even more determined to show that his feelings for her were sincere and serious.

And if she were honest with herself, she wanted him madly. He was not someone who just wanted to boast about getting his way with the Hero of Orlais, no. He was the Herald of Andraste, her Herald, the man who had committed himself fully to their cause, leading them with vigor and faith, fighting bravely with a righteousness that shone in a world of chaos and hate.

He was a great friend, giving her space to grieve for Justinia and Galyan, standing by her side as she grieved for the tragic fate of Daniel, supporting her and her idealistic dreams of rebuilding the Seekers, even admitting to being guided by her.

“I don’t think you are blind.”

He was also Max, a handsome mage from Ostwick who brightened her days with his jokes, his smiles, his kindness, his small touches, his attention, his unravelling desire to discuss endlessly anything with her.

Every time she had confronted him about his attention, he had laid himself open to her, dispersing her fears about whether he truly cared or not, making her hope that he could give her what she yearned for.

She’d chosen this tunic for him. She’d paid attention to her braid and hair, trimmed some loose edges. She’d even bought a perfume that she’d imagined he would like. When she’d met Leliana at the stairs to the hall, her friend had whistled and given her an appreciative once over.

“Someone has cleaned up rather nice today. A certain mage in mind?”

“Nobody in mind.”

“My mistake then…”

The falter in his step when he’d located her in the crowd had broken any remaining reservations she had for him. A man who had just suggested to be simply Cassandra and Max for a moment. Two people who…

She had no time to think. Max cradled her wrist and started to caress her palm with his thumb. Her eyes followed its movement, as it was scattering any leftover doubts upon all the winds.  Using his other hand, Max traced her fingers with his own. The stroke was gentle yet so sensuous, fueling her veins with a surge that ran through her veins and spine and consumed her body and soul.

She burned for him.

Lifting her head, she held his gaze for a moment before he leaned and kissed her.

His lips on mine speak words not voiced, a prayer

Blessed Andraste, his lips were warmer than fire. He broke the kiss and rested his forehead against her temple.

“Cass…I… You’re so beautiful,” he let out a shaky breath and stared into her eyes.

Cassandra let her fingers trace his jawline, his cheek and ghost over his lips. She met his hazy stare, as his hands touched her lower back through the tunic material and urged her closer to him.

She fisted his tunic and closed the distance, kissing him in the brashness of impulse and desire. He moaned and threaded his fingers thought her hair, urging her to open her mouth more.

They broke off to breathe and the door to the hall suddenly burst open, revealing a very drunk Dorian followed by Varric and an even more drunk Sera.

“Maaaaaax my friend… And Cassandraaaaa..! Hiiii Seeker… Maxwell Trevelyan, you promised me a Tevinter ballad with your lute, go fetch it, I will siiiing aloooong…”

Cassandra let Dorian and Sera drag Max away as Varric tailed them. If the dwarf had noticed her swollen lips after her kiss with Max, he didn’t show it.

When she was alone, she brought her fingers to her lips and sighed, reliving the tantalizing memory of his mouth moving against hers. She was in love with Max and there was nothing she could do anymore to pretend it was a simple infatuation.

Perhaps she had a chance to get her ideal romance after all.

------

A/N: This is my first Dragon Age fanfic and the second fanfic I have written. Inspired by the holidays, I wrote this fluffy one-shot about Cassandra x Inquisitor, my favorite dragon age couple. One of my headcanons is that they kissed before meeting at the hidden grove for the romance cutscene and that the Inquisitor kept flirting with her. 

I want to thank the awesome @whatsherfacewrites for beta reading it and my beloved friend @ludi-ling who has inspired me to write, never says no when I ask for help and corrects my grammar, spelling and American/British English misses. Go check their work, what are your waiting for?

[perfectcreaturerarelyseen]

To Fall for the Fae | 10 (M)

Pairing: Andrew Hozier-Byrne/Original Female Character

Genre: Fantasy, Modern, Romance, Smut, Fluff, Angst

Words: Chapter 10: 2,117

Summary: Andrew Hozier-Byrne unknowingly searches for the woman that pulled him from the bog 3,000 years ago. Unknown to either of them that in this modern world their souls are still intertwined from the life they shared long ago. She is unavailable, he’s not giving up. Will the woman that inspires his music be wooed by his songs or will he lose his chance? That’s Wasteland, Baby!

Note: A/N: This is a story requested by my best friend to be written about her favorite musician. I have been inspiried by his songs and specific lines. Any reference to his music is used in the name of inspiration and creating art. I do not own any of his music. Any reference to Hozier in this story is fictional and used by the author in the name of crafting art. I want to thank all who read it. I have fallen in love with writing this story and would love to hear from you. It will be written in installments. The finished story will be at the very least over 50,000 words. Enjoy.

To Fall for the Fae: Chapter 10

This was the farthest into the woods he’d made it so far. It was promising though quite suspicious. Forest Father had yet to see one of the monstrous beasts. The woods were silent, any type of wildlife already hunted to extinction long ago. The loss of easy prey had probably led the Cuuls to brave life outside of the forest. To hunt bigger prey. To hunt the fae.

He ducked under a low hanging branch. Up ahead was an apple tree. He’d long since stopped taking stock of the strange when he entered the woods. Faerie forests were notorious for being equal parts glorious and strange. He approached the tree slowly never taking his eyes off the surrounding area as he observed the apples fat and blood red like poison.

“You may have one if you like.” He’d smelled him before he heard him. Andrew was not startled by his voice that was deep and gruff. There was a harsh edge to it like he was trying very hard to sound polite when he’d rather bark orders at the Forest Father.

“No thank you.” It would have been rude not to answer and he was already skirting danger with his refusal of the fruit. There were certain rules in the Fae world. If a follow faerie offered you food you took it. Such were the ways. To refuse was an insult to their clan.

The man stood with a groan and came around the gnarled twisted trunk to observe Andrew with cruel calculating eyes. He had the expression of a hunter. He assessed Forest Father as prey. There was no curiosity there. This man knew exactly who he was addressing. He knew Andrew’s clanless as he maybe. They both were very aware that they were in each other’s territory. Each of them claimed the woods as theirs. This was quickly turning into a pissing match. They regarded each other warily waiting for one of them to make a move.

“You really should try one, they’re divine.” The man reached up and picked two apples. He tossed one at Andrew who easily caught it.

“I’m fine, thank you.” Andrew kept the apple clenched in his hands as he kept his eyes on the man now walking lazy circles around the tree. He paced like a wild animal. His chest was bare, glistening with sweat, his hair was a mess of short curls black as the night, his eyes a striking blue practically neon. It was the eyes of an animal. He was wearing a long sarong of black fur as if he had killed one of the beasts and skinned it. It was most likely exactly what had happened.

“You don’t trust me. Ah I understand.” The man took a bite of the apple letting the juices trickle down his chin as he the sweet fruit crunched between his teeth. “See? Not trying to poison you, I swear.” He made a sign of crossing his heart. Andrew did’t find it as funny as this beast slayer seemed to. Forest Father scanned the woods again but kept this man in his periphery to be sure that he did not make any sudden movements.

“You can relax. They won’t come for you. Not while I’m here.” The Beast Slayer as Andrew had dubbed him in his mind continued his pacing watching Andrew as he continued to devour his apple. He tossed the core to the side and picked another one from the tree and tore into the sweet pure flesh of the fruit.

“What do you want?” The Forest Father was done with the pleasantries. Why was this man here and what were his motives. He could sense they were less than heroic.

“What do I want? What do I want? That’s the question now isn’t it Forest Father?” Andrew felt even more wary as the Beast Slayer began to laugh as he regarded him with his cool blue eyes. He finally paused in his pacing and looked deep into Andrew’s eyes. It was like he was looking into the very depths of the Forest Father’s soul. Whatever he found there he was not impressed.

“For starters I want you to leave this place. Not this forest, this entire village.”

“That won’t be happening.”

“Tsk tsk you haven’t heard everything my heart is yearning for now have you hm? So quick to answer. I wonder what it is she sees in you.” A sliver of ice ran down Andrew’s spine. He growled and lunged. He gripped the man by the throat letting the feral side of him free. The side he kept locked up at all time. He forced the Beast Slayer to his knees. The man willingly let the Forest Father lower him a cocky smile on his face the whole time.

“You do not speak of her. You do not say her name. You do not even think it.” Andrew growled through clenched teeth. The man let out a choked laugh as Andrew’s hand tightened around his throat.

“Oh so strong. Oh so brave. Intelligent...well we’ll have to test that. Alright I concede. You’ve won...this round at least.” Still the grin stayed on his face. White teeth sharp as points flashed out at the Forest Father. “You keep the Willow Woman safe dear Forest Father. As safe as you can that is...” Anger blazed through him and his hand struck the Beast Slayer backhanded across the face. He flew back and hit the trunk of the tree causing several apples to rain down from the branches.

“You never say her name.” Andrew commanded still fuming. He’d kill him now if he knew the full game he was playing. The Forest Father ran a hand through his hair smoothing it down, an old habit to calm himself. A thin trickle of blood ran down the Beast Slayer’s face from a split lip.

“Oh Forest Father, you’re going to want to run now.” The Beast Slayer’s eyes glowed even brighter and his teeth appeared even sharper as he grinned at Andrew.

A chorus of monstrous howls broke out. With nary a backwards glance Andrew took off running. From the sheer sound every monster that hunted in that woods were on his heels. They snapped at him their huge jaws always a hair breaths away from his skin. He ran faster than he ever had.

He was almost to the tree line when one of them hit him from the side. He went flying. With a sharp crack his head hit a rock and everything went black.

OoOo

This was all to familiar. Her thrown over his shoulder pretending to beat her fists against his back as he carried her back to their love den. It was like being a part of another life. He laughed as she demanded playfully that he put her down and lightly tapped his back with her fists.

“I’ll let you down baby when I have you where I want you.” Well ‘Oo la la’ she thought to herself at his words. It was almost comical the situation, still a ball of nervous energy in her chest warred with the electric current running from her breasts down to her clit. Her body was alight with emotions not quite sure which one it wanted to feel first. Something deep in her knew she shouldn’t be doing this. That she should scream for him to release her. To release her like he had so many years ago. Some other part wanted him to release her in a whole different kind of way.

A lifetime, this lifetime, of waiting for the Forest Father to offer her release. She couldn’t turn it down. She needed it. Needed him. She needed to be filled and fucked by him.

“Forest Father.” She whispered against the fabric of his t-shirt.

“Willow Woman.” He answered without thinking. He didn’t know why he said it or what it meant. He noted the contented sigh she released when he called her that. Finally she rested her head against his back and resigned to letting I'm carry her wherever he was taking her.

He was never this forward. He’d never thrown a woman over his shoulder and carried her back to his hotel room. This felt like a different Andrew. A wild man. A feral beast. He liked it. Something about it felt right.

He gave an awkward one handed wave to the person manning the front desk as he walked past Madison still draped over his shoulder.

“Sup?” She called to the man and they both burst into giggles as the employee gave a slow wave back with a very confused look in his face.

When they stood outside the door of the hotel room he paused for the slightest of moments. Something felt so right about this but his thinking mind told him to think twice. Did he even know anything about this woman? ‘You know everything about this woman’ his subconscious mind whispered. Before he could break into an inner argument she finally spoke.

“Put me down.” It wasn’t a joke this time. He immediately hoisted her off his shoulder and she held her hand out. He stared for a moment then reached for his wallet. She kept her hand out. He started to pull bills out of his wallet.

“Do you seriously think I’m a hooker? And even more seriously were you actually going to pay me if I was?”

“I...I mean...” A smile lit up Madison’s face and he visibly relaxed feeling idiotic. She kept her hand outstretched though and he looked at it curiously.

“Put your money away I want the keycard you idiot.” She smiled a bright grin at him and he laughed. He rubbed the back of his neck feeling awkward then pulled the keycard from the front of his jeans and handed it to her.

She opened the door and he paused outside of it. Her hand reached out, gripped his, and tugged him slightly in the door.

She closed the door behind them with a deafening click.

His fate was sealed.

OoOo

Bates paced the entryway of the house. It was empty. She was nowhere to be seen. Even the staff had scurried off to their respective houses. He was alone with no one but The Snake for company.

“Where is she?” He growled flying into a rage. His anger bubbled up more and more. He knew wherever she was she wouldn’t be alone. He’d tear a piece out of her hide when he found her.

“I don’t know mi lord.” The Snake replied. He didn’t really care where she was or who she was with. This was only a minor inconvenience. He knew he’d find her. He was the best tracker in employ. He was tired though. It’d been a long day and he wanted to go curl up and sleep. His annoyance with the Wiley fae know as Willow Woman grew. When he was annoyed it was better to not be the target. She would come to regret this decision.

“Find her.” Bates commanded pulling at his curls. “Find her and bring her to me. In one piece.” He added the last part looking The Snake in the eyes as he came to stand before him.

“Of course mi lord.” The Snake turned on his heels and stalked towards the door. He did not know what his master saw in this woman. Sure there was status in marrying her but he had status enough. Envy would be the best explanation. The Forest Father wanted her, almost had her too, it made his master happy to take that joy away from him. Regardless of the reason he would make Willow Woman regret this one way or another. She’d come back in one piece of course, but just barely.

“Do not let me down.” Bates’s voice echoed through the halls. The Snake touched the brim of his hat as he continued the long walk to the front door. He would not let his master down. He never did.

OoOo

The clock had struck midnight.

Cinderella should have ran.

She soon would have no choice.

The beasts were on the hunt.

The Forest Father had her wrapped up in his spell.

The spell he could cast with a look.

With a word.

With a song.

She would know soon enough.

She would sense them on her heels.

She would smell the stench of them.

First she would feel the Forest Father’s teeth sink in.

Then oh then it would be the beast with their teeth in her delicate flesh.

Such was the fate of the fae.

OoOo

[blankrslate07]

🔘K(G)A(I)I(N)T(G)O(KA)🔘 BIO:

🔹NAME🔹:

Kaito (New)

Gingka Hagane (Actual Name)

🔹AGE🔹:

Currently 14

🔹Gender/Sex🔹:

Male

🔹DATE OF BIRTH🔹:

June 12th

🔹 SEXUALITY 🔹:

Bisexual

🔹 OCCUPATIONS🔹

. A blader working under Dark Nebula

. Ryuga's "Servant"

🔹 RELATIONSHIP STATUS🔹:

In a relationship with Ryuga

~~~💠~~~

🔹 BIOGRAPHY 🔹:

Originally known as Gingka Hagane when he was in Koma Village at the age of eight. He encountered Ryuga by accident and brought him back to his home to get the older boy's injuries treated by his father.

Ryuga stayed with them for nearly half the year. During the time, he and Gingka became great friends. Though, the older boy tended to stay indoors and preferred not to play with others even if Gingka is there. Regardless they still had fun together.

But it didn't remain happy when the two decided to go out exploring on their own. They soon strayed to far from the village and encountered Doji, who has been looking for Ryuga ever since he ran away.

The confrontation desolves into a chase through the more rocky areas. Things turn for the worse when Doji accidentally hit one of the rocks above, causing them to come crashing down on the two children.

Gingka lost both of his legs when he pushed his friend out of the way. Later, he was taken into the Dark Nebula HQ to be treated. When he woke up, it was revealed that he had also lost his memories from the crash.

Currently, he now lives in the Dark Nebula HQ and being trained in martial arts, hand-to-hand combat, fighting with a bladed staff, butler stuff (Like cooking and serving drinks, etc) and of course beyblade.

🔹 PERSONALITY 🔹:

He seems like a calm and relaxed individual. Friendly to those he meets and willing to help those in slight need like carrying their bags for them. Loves to beyblade and would jump at the chance to do it. Another thing he loves more than beyblade is to watch beyblade fights happen, especially Ryuga's fights.

However, due to the training he received and being in close proximity with Ryuga nearly all the time, Gingka can also be rather ruthless and vicious as well especially when it comes to beyblade fights. He is willing to use dirty tactics to win during actual physical fights that involve weapons to win, especially if it's for the mission.

Gingka also hates being locked up in the HQ during his leisure hours. He yearns for the day he can go outside and enjoy the world without the fear of repercussions for it.

During his 'Work' times, he'll wear a mask and act cold and mechanical towards people. The only ones who have seen his true self so far are Ryuga, Doji and other workers in Dark Nebula.

~~~💠~~~

🔹 APPEARANCE🔹:

Has light orange hair with red on the left side, brown-gold eyes and pale skin. Usually wears a black long sleeved shirt with gold cuffs and hems underneath a dark blue high collared vest with a golden colored zipper along with a head band. Also wears white & gold shorts and a pair of light blue and gray gloves. Mechanical attachments were placed where his legs got amputated and used to attach and detach his prosthetics.

For his "Work" Clothes, he would wear black and blue form fitting armour beneath dark blue clothes. Wears a metal mask that has infrared vision and disguises his voice. His prosthetics are gray and glowing purple circuits and wires in them.

~~~💠~~~

🔹SKILLS/ABILITIES 🔹:

Hand-to-hand Combat/Martial Arts: Has well developed & strong muscles. He can take on opponents much bigger than himself and has some knowledge in pressure points and aiming for them.

Spear/Staff Combat: Is well versed with this type of weapons. While looking graceful in his movements, Gingka is also fast and unmerciful as he strikes his opponents. Preventing them from making a counter attack while he's at it.

Leg Prosthetics: His prosthetics are one of Dark Nebula's greatest creations. 5x stronger than an average human leg, capable of breaking through steel with a single kick, and gives him greater endurance and speed. Of course, he can adjust his legs so that he won't accidentally send any new recruits to the hospital

Acting: Gingka is a well talented actor most of the time. Having been able to make most of Dark Nebula's wokers to trust him and let their guard around him. With him being without legs, it only adds more to the act by making others feel sympathetic to him.

🔹BEYBLADE🔹:

🔹NAME OF BEYBLADE🔹:

Kelpie Oblitus

🔹TYPE🔹:

Destabilizer

🔹MOVESETS🔹:

.Chiming Streams: This moves will cause the bey to emit an incredibly loud chiming sound that can disrupts the opponent bey's balance along with causing pain to the actual opponent's ears and scramble their thoughts. Leaving them vulnerable to attacks. The sound become even louder if the opponent's beyblade hits it.

. Depth's Embrace: Kelpie would start to spin at the edge of the arena and starts to manipulate the moisture in the air into creating streams of water that could nearly engulf the entire arena. Kelpie would then emerge in the water then fade back into it, leaving the bey nearly invisible and making it difficult for their opponent to find them. It would start to attack in all sorts of directions and fading back into the water until it can deal with the finishing blow, which could smash the opponent's bey into pieces.

. Alluring Depth: This move will result with the bey going into the center and create a powerful illusion to entrap the opponent in. There are two types, one that would show the opponent's greatest desire to entice them and one that shows the opponent's worst fear to freeze them with fright.

(Will add more later on)

Is considered one of Dark Nebula's best beyblade fighters. Being able to go toe to toe with Ryuga up until he received L-Drago. However, he is not given the title as being the second best since he doesn't fight beyblade battles often with other Dark Nebula bladers and is most often training with Ryuga instead.

~~~💠~~~

🔹 RELATIONSHIPS🔹:

♠️~~~DOJI~~~♠️

Gingka absolutely DESPISES the man. To him, Doji is the one taking his freedom away from him. However, Gingka is also terrified of Doji since he can electrocute him through the mechanical attachments on his legs and has done so when he goes "out of line" or didn't give satisfactory results. He doesn't show this and acts friendly and respectful towards Doji. But in certain days, he Really wants to strangle to man.

💜~~~RYUGA~~~💜

Ryuga and him are very close with one another. With Gingka being the only one that Ryuga actually cares about and treats him as another human being while Ryuga is the one that stuck by him always. He is deeply loyal to the older teen, willing to even endanger the lives of others or his own for him. They shared many things and are nearly inseparable.

Gingka likes to tease Ryuga often since he finds the other's reactions to be funny, while Ryuga mellows slightly with the younger teen and shows his softer side to him only. They even treated each others injuries that they got from their training.

Eventually, their friendship turned into romance. They started dating when Gingka was 12 and Ryuga was 14. So far, they have only hugged, held hands and kissed each other on the cheeks, they decided to take things slowly and keep it a tight locked secret from Doji.

Though, Ryuga is rather possessive of Gingka and dislikes it when people get too friendly with him or if he is training with somebody else, especially in beyblade battles. Often keeps a close distance with him (like keeping a hand on his shoulder) and glares at people too close even. Gingka doesn't mind this too much and kind be rather submissive towards the other and his wishes.

♦️~~~OTHERS~~~♦️

He treats his fellow workers and beybladers that work under Dark Nebula like a friend and helps them out in small problems. This attitude had led him to have a positive reputation in the HQ.

~~~💠~~~

🔹Quotes🔹:

"Hey there! The names Kaito, you're the new recruit right?"

"Just so you know, I'm not gonna hold back. So be prepared to fight and break bones."

"I wish I can just get out there...Explore places with my own two legs and see things, experience things that others wouldn't believe. To be anywhere, anywhere but here...But I can't, not as long as Doji has me on a leash. It's not all that bad though, as long as you're here, Ryuga."

"....Who the hell is "Gingka" ?"

[starboyjxmin]

Woman (Taehyung AU)

Synopsis:  “I hope you can see the shape that I'm in While he's touching your skin He's right where I should, where I should be But you're making me bleed,”// Harry Styles

Warnings: Smut, Voyeurism, Mention of Murder, Kidnapping, Vulgar Language, Mentions of Murder, Ounce of Fluff

Genre: Horror?, Suspense, bit of Romance, Drabble 

Project: (BTS x Harry Styles’ self-titled album)   

Word Count: 3,987

Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

Taehyung from a rather young age had developed a sense for what many would call disturbing.

But was it? He would sometimes question this.

Humanity as its own was itself quite a disturbing thing as well but then again, no one really went to purge the pneumonic species that was harming its own home.

The desire in him to murder was stronger than the urge to fuck, stronger than the urge to break to the surface and breathe when fully submerged into water while having weights strapped onto one's ankles and when sex was in for the night, the beast within him that would yearn for blood, would come out to play, resulting in the murders of many prostitutes, many who were daughters, sisters, mothers, friends, protectors. But that didn't matter. It just never did.

However, it wasn't until Taehyung met her.

(Y/N) was an overall nod to the human specimen, he decided. Even if she was quite the stubborn child who never knew how to keep her nose clean and always got so emotional over his doings.

They had a great life together, it was always good from the beginning from the second he decided to instead stalk his newly found prey instead of just going for the kill. Slowly, and all at once he had realized there deep inside him, buried in his utmost interior, was a bit of humanity and it was glowing for the girl. 

“You need to stop hanging out with Namjoon, all this is creating is more trouble for you.” Taehyung ignored you as you kept your hands on the edge of the table, standing in front of him as he blatantly watched how the blue painted over roses in the vase seem to catch the sunlight emitting from the partially covered window and land near the inanimate cup of milk which was by his hand, instead of looking up at you. Had he told you to fully cover the window? He was sure he did when you had gotten up from bed this morning. It was noon. Why hadn’t you done so? “Taehyung, I’m talking to you.” 

“Whiskey.” A loud bang caught his attention from the milk which he had vocally expressed in a longing voice for it to be a liquor, along with the jolt from the table. 

Taehyung finally looked up to see your face that was surprisingly calm despite the prominent blush in your palm that was slightly hidden from your grip on the table. 

You had struck the table with an open hand rather strongly which was surprising to him nevertheless since humans were weak and not at that great with hand to eye coordination 

“This is getting out of hand. I agreed to move in with you, I turn a blind eye to your murders, I keep my legs open for you at the end of the bed when you’re covered in your nightly filth, I have kept my location unknown to my parents as well as friends. Do you this think is fair?” You felt how his eyes were boring into yours with an air of “Who the fuck cares?” 

He leaned back into the chair, giving you a smirk as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“I love it when you get so worked up, kitten.”

“This isn’t a fucking game.” You snapped at the vampire who suppressed a chuckle. “Namjoon isn’t good for you. You’re not good for me either as a matter of fact! What this is-” You pointed to him and then at you as to show an invisible bond between the two. “-is fucking toxic.” 

“So, from what I’m understanding so far is that you think that I shouldn’t be around my best friend anymore and that you shouldn’t be around me because this is all toxic? As in, you want to leave.” He knew you were being difficult, there was no way you could actually leave him. Taehyung knew lots of things including how much power he possessed over you, which meant that you were bounded to him for the rest of your life, like a slave. 

“By the day of tomorrow, something is going to happen and I won’t be there to save your dumb ass. Namjoon is bad news. You are too but the two of you together is utter chaos.” Crazy woman, he thought as you left. The sounds of your naked feet against the carpet floor of the little apartment you had begged him to get, softly bounced off the decorated walls of the kitchen and decrescendo. 

It wasn’t that Taehyung couldn’t get out of here whenever he wanted, it was just that he was sure that if he stayed and behaved like a good boy, you were going to forgive him for not listening to you. A punishment of 3 years for killing his father, adoptive father, with Namjoon egging it on in some way, was surely a guarantee that you would welcome him back.

Why wouldn’t you? You had come almost every day to visit and even came for conjugal visits during the first year. Not that they were legal but being a vampire had its perks.

“I just hope that when you do get out, you rethink things over and realize that you need to change, Tae.” He sat across from you on the plastic park looking lunch bench that was painted a very faded and dull blue. The flower in your hair, a white daisy, reminded him of the time he had taken you out of that small apartment one night and instead of going for his usual hunting, he took you to a sunflower field he had come across the night before. The smile on your face and how your eyes lit up as Sirius was that night, was one of the fondest and beautiful memories he had in all of his 300 years of existence. 

“I know, kitten.” Taehyung reached out to touch your hands that were nervously gripping your purse that was set on the table but as soon as he felt the soft, warm contact from your skin, a prison guard barked at him to not touch one another. Tae was about to turn to the guard when you suddenly let go of your purse and gripped his hand instead with your shaking small one.

“Please don’t..” You whispered with terrified eyes. 

“I said, ‘DO-” Taehyung pulled his hand away from yours, feeling barren and held up his hands, not looking at the guard. 

“Got it, sir.” He kept his eyes on you, watching how anxiously you looked at the guard and down at your purse, practically chewing off your lower lip. Tae put his hands down onto the table, resting them. “Hey,” He spoke to you in a soft voice. “don’t bite your lip, baby. It’s okay.” 

“I miss you so much, Tae.” Your eyes began to water and your small frame shook with overwhelming emotion, causing a strangled sound of pain to emit from your swollen, red lips. 

He didn’t care if he was going to be sent to isolation for this. He didn’t care if the other inmates around him were going to tease him for months. 

Taehyung reached over and engulfed you into a tight hug that made you feel a sense of homeyness and warmth along with the colour beige that made you feel in that small moment, safe. There was no one else there, just the two of you as he held your head to his chest, promising you to be better for you, to change, to never leave you unprotected and to fend for yourself like this ever again when you felt him being ripped off of you. 

Another shot of pain coursed through you and a mangled sob shot through your soul as he was fully off of you and grabbed by his arms that were forcefully crossed behind his back, pulling him out of the room with loud scary noises that sounded like they were scowling him. 

You knew Taehyung could have fought them all off with little to no effort but the chilling look in his eyes and how his head hung as he watched you from afar while they dragged him behind the glass doors of the visitation room, told you he was going to get out soon and claim you back even if it meant that he had to endure this ridiculing moment in his life where humans treated him inferior. But anything for you, he was willing to do. 

“I don’t want to see you with him. I don’t give a shit if I’m being selfish, you’re still mine. You think that ignoring me will solve anything? Can’t you fucking see how you’re leaving me to pieces every time I see him slightly touching you? You need to stop this shit now and come home.”

You read over Tae’s text a millionth time that night, not knowing what to do. This was fucking absurd. He had to get over you. It had been 6 months since you had left him. You were like a loyal bitch to him for too long and stayed less than a year after he had gotten out of prison; he had not changed despite his promises. 

The truth was even harder for you to swallow; you were absolutely still in love with Kim Taehyung and there seemed to be no cure or antidote in this world to expel the feeling.

“What’s wrong?” Seokjin asked you as he handed you a cup of water you had mentioned you wanted from the bar instead of vodka. He appeared to be slightly worried but you smiled at him, putting your phone into your back pocket while taking the cup from him.

“Thank you, corazon. I just thought that it was 10 P.M. and was shocked to see it’s actually 1 A.M.” He nodded understandingly as he took a sip from his coke. 

“Time flies when you’re enjoying yourself.”

“It sure does.” You drank all of your water in one take, leaving him to raise an eyebrow as you set the cup down on a neighbouring table and pulled him into the dancing crowd of people. “Let’s dance.”

“I’m not the best dancer, (Y/N).” He was hesitant to even let you walk him into the crowd of sticky, sweating people but you were smiling. The raging lights of the club caught your rose shaped diamond earrings, bouncing its own lights towards his eyes, slightly blinding him. 

“It’s okay! You can just sway and I’ll do all the work.” Seokjin chuckled as you pulled him even further into the mass. 

You stood in front of him, back pressed into his chest as you began to move your hips to the sultry, heavy bassed music, rubbing yourself against his member. He carefully placed his hands on your hips that were now moving to a slower grind, purposely trying to tease him. Jin felt as if all eyes were on him but he soon realized it was because of the beautiful girl dancing on him. 

The way you began to roll your hips back into him, caused Seokjin to let out a deep groan that vibrated in his chest, urging you on as you felt how pleasant it felt on your back. Sinful rhythms and beats of the music were making you angle your ass so you were rubbing yourself all over the head of his semi-hard cock. 

One of Jin’s hands let go of your hip and quickly came from behind and gripped your neck from the front, his pointer finger under the soft skin of your jaw, moving your head to the side so he could lower his and growled in your ear.

“Keep this up and I might just fuck you here in front of everyone.” The promising threat caused you to tremble as goosebumps trailed all over your body but that didn't stop you from practically dry fucking him even more on the dance floor, no one noticed as they were all caught up in their own dancing and feelings.

He began to move his hips now, meeting yours forcefully, causing you to feel a blinding heat cover all of the insides of your stomach, leaving you panting as you could feel how thick and long he was, making you wish he could really bend you over right now and take you, not caring who was here. 

Your hand came to cover his large one on your hip, fingers were intertwined as he began to take lead as he moved you accordingly to his pleasure. His other hand let go of your neck, making you realize that you had been holding your breath this whole time, causing you to be lightheaded as the delicious oxygen finally hit you completely, leaving you an exasperated mess. 

“Come home with me.” You whimpered, scared that he hadn’t heard you over the blasting music of the club but Seokjin immediately gripped your wrist, turning away from the dancing crowd, dragging you out of it. 

In the corner of the club, however, you quickly looked as Jin was rapidly escorting you out, you caught what seemed to be a tall dark figure leaning against the corner, causing your heart to drop in fear. But as soon as you blinked, the figure was gone. You were imagining things, you were too caught up in your lust to think clearly.

Taehyung knew where you were going. He had seen this scene one too many times. Truthfully? He was deeply disappointed that you were going down this path, always rebelling. You had a wild spirit that couldn't be broken no matter how much he had tried to tame you. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” This sicking agony gushed through his veins as he heard the familiar tone of your voice that indicated that you were beyond aroused. He got out of your small closet, realizing that it was not convenient for him to be hidden in there when he was going to ambush the two of you so he opted for the bed. Taehyung got down on the floor and scoot himself under it, thanking the universe that you had gotten a large bed that was enough for him to move under and lay under without his feet poking out of it. The pastel blue bed skirt with the pearly white bed spread kept him out of any sort of visibility. 

The sounds of the bedroom being crashed open and the sloppy sounds of skin along with wetness indicated kissing.  

But a smell came to him. It was overbearing and saccharine. 

Taehyung could smell you.

“Jiiiiinnn,” You were practically whimpering when you suddenly gasped. The bed creaked heavily, meaning that you and this Jin person were now on the bed. 

“Shh, I’m going to make you forget your own name by the end of this, baby girl.” Tae could hear the annoying sound of kisses. Taehyung was lying if he didn’t admit to feeling incredibly aroused by the sounds that you were making. Your every moan was sent straight to his cock, causing it to twitch. Your heavy breathing and occasional yelps were making him close his eyes, remembering how it was to have you on top, being needy and so sensitive. Fuck, you were so beautiful in this state of mind. The way you would throw your head back, eyes closed, mouth slightly opened as you were lost in the feeling of riding him, goodness. The pinkness between your legs, how soft and warm you were and how you would clench over his dick, almost made him moan out loud. 

The bed began to rock, as he heard you scream out this man’s name, infuriating Taehyung who immediately snapped his eyes open. Without any thought, he quickly grabbed out of his pocket a box cutter and furiously began slashing the underside of the bed, screaming out in horrifying anger but the slashes and the sounds from him were masked by your own sounds of beautiful pleasure and the groaning of the bed from under you and Jin as well as how it moved along with you. 

Taehyung kept stabbing into the bed, now sobbing as he heard you getting closer to your climax.

“SEOKJIN!”

“Who’s making you feel this fucking good, hm, princess? Say it again.” The man’s voice was husky as he demanded (Y/N) to respond who choked out his name again. There was no holding back from the either of the two. 

“My God!” Taehyung felt as if he had slashed his own heart as soon as those two words left your lips, causing him to abruptly stop. The whole room got quiet, all that was heard was red noise from outside as the cars and highways went about as if the world had not just broken. 

It seemed to have been an hour when he finally heard the bed creak from over him. A soft sound of something hit the floor was accompanied by inaudible pitter patter sounds, reminding him of how you would sometimes walk around the apartment when you thought you were being quiet to not alert him. 

The sound of you walking away seemed to be going towards the direction of the bathroom, allowing him now to fully execute the thought process of the real reason as to why he had come here in the first place.

Murder wasn’t difficult to commit. It was as easy as speaking. You just do it. Being a vampire resulted in him to get away with many things and only be discovered if he wanted such thing to happen. Of course, sometimes he had to assimilate the killings as if done by humans and sometimes by beasts. 

Tonight, he was going to make it seem that someone had broken in and murdered your lover but mercifully spared you and to prove it, you would have the murderer’s DNA to which Tae was skilled at confusing his own to make others believe they had leads but found the DNA to belong to no one. A dead end. 

But now that he thought about it, you weren’t ever going to forgive him for killing your new partner, especially leaving his mangled, distorted body all over your pretty sheets for you to see. That would traumatize you, seeing how much blood a human body contained, spilled onto the floor like a lake as the flesh was every where even stuck on the walls from the evident anger the vampire had felt. How dare you have the audacity to publicly dry hump in the club, knowing damn well anyone could see, including Taehyung who had killed someone rather gruesomely from the rage he felt. 

It would be your fault that Jin had been murdered. You did date a vampire. They don’t do well with what’s theirs leaving. 

Taehyung finally decided to just sneak out and leave. There was no need to cause you suffering and the correct reasons to hate him. You were going to come back. That’s how it worked, it was a claiming. Property always belongs to their masters no matter what.

You had found yourself sitting on a park bench, late at night waiting for Taehyung to come. It wasn’t stupid of you to reach out to Tae after it being a week since you had realized the texts from him weren’t coming in anymore. Things had to be fixed, that’s just how you were as a person. No need to have a bad relationship with someone who used to mean the world to you even if it felt like you weren’t anything to him. 

“Hi.” The deep voice that once had caused you to fall in irrevocable love, at the same park and around this same time when he had first approached you. You almost wanted a standing ovation for yourself for thinking of ending things correctly at the same place where they had begun. 

“Hi.” Taehyung had a black hoodie on with the word Yeezus imprinted on the front. The memories of how you use to wear the hoodie around the adored, tiny apartment with absolutely nothing on, made you smile with sadness. Tae use to love seeing you being about in the kitchen, trying to close the refrigerator door without the hem of the hoodie riding up which was something he didn’t think could happen but you never failed to surprise the vampire.

“How are you?” He shrugged as he sat opposite to you and flashed his signature boxy smile, revealing his keen canine teeth. “You’re probably wondering why I wanted us to meet up.”

“More or less, I suppose.” Tae cocked his head to the side, feeling that egotistical aura surge through him. He was always right. You were to come back. It was a no-brainer.

“Well, I admit that despite us not being together in the past months, I still love you, Taehyung. A lot actually. I always will love you like the first day since you became a very important part of my life. But now, you are just but a chapter in it, and one day I’ll look back fondly at it even if we had our moments.” Wait. “I’m moving back to America.” He felt his head become dizzy. “I never really fitted in here, especially with all the racial backlash I have received since moving. It’s only good that I go back and I just hope that we can still be friends. If I ever do come back, I hope I’ll be able to have a friend here.” You gave him a small smile.

Fucking impossible.

“No.” His menacing tone caught you very off guard. “You aren’t leaving me.”

“Tae, this isn’t up for discussion.” The strong willed soul in you was unafraid of the vampire whose fangs began to show. 

“(Y/N), you think that you have a say in this?”

“It’s my fucking life. I was only being considerate but you know what, go to hell.” You quickly got up only to be tackled backwards into the soft moist grass by a beast. 

“You really made the devil come out, kitten.” His graveled voice was in your ear as Tae’s body pinned you down. “You flower.” He hungrily began to lick from your jaw down your shoulder, breathing in the mouth watering scent of your blood. “You feast.” A terrifying scream was heard all throughout the block of the park but was quickly overcome with a thundering snarl. 

The park and the night went silent. 

The story of a missing girl had rapidly gone through the whole country like a fire, suspects were found here and there but always led to nowhere. 

Years had passed and the family of the girl was still looking for her even if they were seas away. No one could find anything. 

The only thing they found was a rose shaped diamond earring near Daegu, South Korea. When they tested it for DNA, it turned out to have belonged to (Y/N), the missing girl. But there was blood on it too, also hers, leading the media and public to believe she was possibly killed if the earring could have been ripped from her ear. But why? Many theorized that she had been attacked by the beast that had been killing around the city where her earring was found as they found lots of human remains all over Daegu that seemed to be from some sort of lost bear or tiger mauling of the missing people.  

But her body had never been found.

[manictipsyfangirl-blog]

Saints and Sinners

Warnings: Explicit sexual content. (Forgive me father, for I have sinned); Unbeta-ed, Not proof read. I’m a pathetic loser sorry guys.

Word count: 2577 (Sorry mobile users. Its super long.)

Genre: Angst/Smut

AN: I am not sure yet but I think I’ll be writing a series of smuts in form of chapters(if you guys think I should). Each chapter may/may not be interlinked. Chances are they wouldn’t be because I suck at maintaining integrity haha lmao. I am so bashful rn I can’t even tell you guys Bughead smut is such a turn on I haven’t a written any fics before on this forum. All the beautiful writers out there, thank you so much for the inspiration. Just a humble attempt from me haha. Also, English isn’t really native language so I’m sorry if there are any mistakes! Please try to ignore thanks! Please leave reviews. Happy reading :)

I

Betty Cooper has always deemed herself to be the strong, independent woman who knows the better of everything. But that never implied she wasn’t prone to jealousy. And when she saw Southside High’s very own Mafiosa, Toni Topaz sitting beside Jughead at the cafeteria leaning onto him with her legs crossed idly on the table, her insides convulsed in swirls of jealousy so strong even she hadn’t known there could exist. Betty could feel herself suffocate as the sound of girly snickers coming from this one particular table surged into her senses. Toni was talking in between her giggles and god knows what it was about but she had managed to score Jughead’s attention oh, and not just that he was even laughing.

Looked like he really enjoys hanging with her. Wonder what that girl was all about.

Betty shrugged the thought away with a sigh. It had been so long since the last time they met. At least a a month ago. Travelling from one side of the town to another was difficult for either of them and now with Jughead joining the Serpents, there was hardly any time when he’d not be preoccupied. Of course there was skype and text messaging but no matter how naff it sounded, Betty missed Jughead. She missed working on the Blue&Gold with him after school and she missed his little beany hat and god, how the skin of his palm feels on her neck. But most of all she missed his presence around her.

And here she was, travelling 10 miles on a bicycle wanting to surprise Jugheadd by making an appearance at his school??? What was she even thinking. He clearly was having the time of his life in a place where he says he fits in and dear god, how many times has he mentioned he absolutely hates surprises?

Betty felt dejection form a lump in her throat. She clenched her hand into a fist and subconsciously let her fingernails dig deeper into her skin and made up her mind to leave.

Betty wasn’t wrong, actually. Jughead was really into Toni Topaz but not exactly how Betty thought it to be. His instincts towards Toni was very and only friendly. It was safe to say that Toni was his only friend in Southside High, going by the kind of social grip he has and jughead indeed enjoyed her company.

But today was different. Today he was distracted. Today, he was missing Betty way too much to focus on any other thing and while sitting with her at the cafeteria when he had let his eyes wander off, they had hitched onto a familiar pastel cardigan and blonde hair tied in a pony tail.

“Betty” Jughead rose from his seat, his lips involuntarily curving into a smile.

Betty stopped in her tracks hearing her name.

Her name, his voice. God it had been so long. She turned to face him breaking a soft smile.

“Why were you-How did you get here!” he spoke, putting his arms around her.

“I-uh” Betty ventured, haltingly. “I just thought I could come and see you. In your new school.”

xx

They held hands as they walked back from school to Jughead’s new home. It was a trailer that one of his mates from the Serpent’s group offered to him after he was asked to evacuate the previous one, for security purposes. Betty hadn’t spoken too much on the way. The thought of Jug and that girl from the cafeteria throbbed in her head. At one time, she even considered she could be over-thinking. And it wasn’t like Betty and Jug were girlfriend and boyfriend. Truth is, they never got a proper closure to what was going on between the two of them.

“D-did you do all this with her?” she finally spoke, cutting whatever Jughead was talking about midway.

He failed to grasp what she was talking about and stared back at her with a puzzled face.

“Walk back home with her” she shrugged, her eyes already brimming with tears. “Hold hands.”

“Betts” Jughead stopped walking. “What are you talking about?”

“What am I talking about?” she said, now fuming. “I am talking about your new high school romance with whoever she was you were sitting with.”

Jughead smirked. “Betts, you getting jealous?”

It did not take time for him to realise. Betty Cooper was indeed jealous. Jughead hadn’t seen this side of her before and he wouldn’t lie, he was kind of enjoying it until he saw her eyes well up.

Betty dug her nails deeper into her palm and let blood trickle down her fingers. She was having a hard time controlling her tears already and on seeing Jughead smirk, she broke into tears immediately.

“N-no. It’s -just” she said, her voice breaking as she looked away. “All these people they are with you every day. They get to be around you every day. And I don’t.”

“Oh Betts” Jughead engulfed her in a hug. He thought she’d rage and hurl words at him but instead when she started crying, he felt remorseful about trying to draw amusement out of her state previously.

“Juggie, I miss you” her voice muffled as she spoke into her chest, her tears staining his dark green t shirt.

“I missed you so much Betty.” His words came out as a whisper as he breathed out, trying to absorb her warmth into his body as they remained like that in each other’s arms outside Jughead’s battered trailer.

xx

Jughead pulled away from her lips and attacked her neck, earning a low squeal from her as she arched her neck, letting her head drop back exposing more skin for him to reach. His fingers fumbled with the buttons of her shirt, the cardigan already sinking on the floor. He was leaving marks in all the places his mouth had been- under her jawline, her neck, the hollow of her collar bones and the flesh of her chest and by the time he got rid of her peach lacey bra, he had her squirming beneath him as they lay on the couch, Betty’s head resting where the back rest meets the arm rest and Jughead cornering her into position as his body hovered over hers.

His thumb brushed over her breasts taking his own sweet time when he reached her aching nipples.

“J-juggie” she moaned out his name. When he replaced his fingers with his mouth, she shuddered.

“Its been so long” she struggled with her words as Jughead continued with his entrancing attacks paying absolutely no heed to what she said. His hands had kept hers locked, pinning them down on either sides of her head.

This was torture. She needed to feel his weight on him and his skin on her fingers. Betty tried to wriggle out of his grip but in vain, he was too strong and he wouldn’t budge.

“P-leaase” it came out as a whimper. She was losing her mind.

“Please what?” Jughead’s voice vibrated on her chest.

“I want to touch you” she said, the frustration clear in her voice. He chuckled letting go of her hands allowing her to tug at his t-shirt and then complying as she tried to pull it off him over his head.

She noticed how the muscles on his abdomen had toned as she ran her hands over them feeling the texture of his skin on her fingers. She put her hand around his neck and rubbed slow circles on his nape as her hips rocked rubbing herself on his stiffening cock. She knew how much this turns him on.

She let out a throaty giggle on hearing him growl.

“You’re gonna regret it so much now” he whispered.

“Sit up.” He instructed. Betty had lost her ability to think so she complied whatever he asked her to do. Jughead pulled her into his lap with her back towards him. Betty’s skin flushed. She spread her legs even without him asking her to. The red of her face had now spread till her chest and god, she was dripping for him. His hand slipped in through the waist band of her matching peach panties and rested on her opening. Just rested there feeling up her warmth, not moving. Not even a bit. He could feel her throb under his touch and wasn’t he enjoying it.

“Jug-OH” she gasped as his finger nipped at her clit encircling it in slow agonizing circles. His other hand was on her chest kneading into the flesh of her full breast, his fingers deftly rolling her nipples which were now flushed red and sore. She moaned, this time in pain and Jughead instantly eased his fingers realising he was going too harsh on her. Causing her discomfort would be the last thing he wanted to do especially when they were making love. Betty relaxed her head on his shoulders and turned so that their lips could meet and when they did, she nibbled on his before giving into a full mouthed kiss.

Betty pictured their present situation in her mind. Jughead without a shirt in his denims, his slumped laxly on the couch with his hands wound around her toying with every intimate spot on her body and herself splayed across him as exposed as she could be only with her undies on. The thought of herself in such a compromising position with him made her leak. She moaned into his mouth as she felt his stiff member rubbed against her hips.

“I-“ she gasped, breaking from the kiss. She was out of breath and incredibly turned on. It had been so long, she was afraid she’d not last a minute longer. “Juggie, I need you! Please”

He needed her too. If Betty was thinking he hadn’t missed her and he hadn’t yearned for her every night lying on his bed, she was wrong.

But today he was in mood to play.

“Jug please. Stop doing this to me” she groaned in frustration as he pushed her back to their previous position, cornering her on the couch and proceeded to go down her body, sucking on the supple skin of her stomach and tracing the biting softly at her belly button. He pulled her panties off her waist and dragged them till her ankles which Betty quickly rid.

“Just one taste, Betts” he muttered before dragging his tongue across the length of her slit in one long motion.

“Fuck! Juggie –I don’t think I can last long if you keep doing that.” She found it difficult to structure proper sentences. She had lost control of her senses. Her breathing was erratic and her insides twitched every time her clit came in direct contact with his tongue. Betty’s toes went rigid as she struggled to hold back, curling them and dragging slowly across his back.

“You see, Betty” he spoke, in between striking his tongue at her entrance. She squirmed and wriggled in her position which only resulted Jughead hold her thighs down apart firmer. “This is how I feel all the time when you’re not with me. Smothered and out of breath.”

Betty was afraid she'll pass out. She was a quivering mess under his uncompromising assaults and she didn’t care. She wanted more. Betty had never been edged to this extent before. Usually, Jughead would give in to her pleads after teasing her for just a little bit but today he seemed he had no plans to stop.

“And if you think anybody else in this whole freaking world can make me feel the way you do” he stopped to suck in her juices that were dripping all over the place now. “You’re very wrong Betty Cooper. Do you understand?”

She hysterically nodded a yes fearing, begging him to take her on the couch as deep as he could with no holding back, no inhibitions.

To her extreme gratification, he finally let her thighs go and rose from his position.

“I love you so much” he croaked, lowering his face closer to hers. Taking her hands in his, he kissed the scars on her palm frowning when the acidy taste of blood hit his tongue. So this is why she didn’t rage. This is what stopped her from hurling words at him previously.

“I am so sorry, Betts” he looked into her eyes. “I shouldn’t have.”

“I love you, Jughead Jones. More than you can ever know” her eyes glistened. She could cry.

Betty’s toes had started tugging at the ends of his blue jeans. She wanted them off him and he knew better than to tease her any longer. He rose up and unbuttoned his pants and in one swift motion he pulled them down along with this boxers.

“C-can I?” he asked for permission before thrusting in to which she only growled in agony. He pushed into her opening slowly at first, pushing as deep as he could go. No sooner, they had picked up a rhythm. To and fro, in and out. Betty accepted his thrusts unreservedly, wrapping her legs around him. No inhibitions. She was losing integrity as the pooling sensation intensified at the pit of her stomach.

“God you’re so freaking tight!” He felt her insides clench around him as he continued his motion. “Betty I am going to-” before he could complete his sentence, she had pursed her lips on his not only giving him permission to finish but also letting know that she needed release too.

When they came, they came together in one intense wave of orgasm rippling through their bodies. Jughead’s body rocked with hers as she involuntarily rubbed her legs against him. Soon, he relaxed his weight, balancing himself on his elbow and sliding to one side.

“That was” she started but Jughead finished her sentence. “The best sex ever?”

She laughed. “Never knew delayed sex could be the best sex ever.”

“Are you saying we should stay away for weeks before I finally get to be indecent with you?” he asked, arching his eye brows.

“You know, just for the feeling” Betty smirked.

“I am sorry I don’t think I can stay away from my girlfriend for this long again” he spoke into the crook of her neck, his voice still hoarse from their afternoon ordeal.

Betty frowned, still keeping the smile plastered. Jughead looked at her questioningly on seeing her frown.

“You just said I’m your girlfriend” she blushed.

“Are you not my –I mean, don’t you want us to be that way?” his eyes widened and heart hammered

“Juggie” she whinged. “Yes, I obviously do its just that” she stopped. “What was that all about? You and that girl at the cafeteria”

“You mean Toni Topaz” he answered. “We’re great friends in school Betts. She has been of great help and with a lot of things around school. But if it bothers you so much- “

“Juggie, no” she shook her head. “I’d never want you to –I trust you. You need friends” she smiled, cupping his face. “I don’t know what happened to me I just –I overreacted. I am sorry.”

“Its okay Betts" he smiled. “I would be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy that part even a bit.”

Betty rolled her eyes and looked outside. It was evening. When she looked back at Jughead his eyes were closed and his lips wore a smirk.

She got up from her place and walked over to this particular chair on the other hand of the room and picked up his Serpent’s jacket.

“Hey Romeo”  she leered. He looked at her.  “Drop me home?”

Jughead smiled at what he saw. Betty in his Serpent’s jacket. Only in his Serpent’s jacket. These were the times Jughead regretted saying he hated surprises cause this girl right here was blowing his mind.

Thats it guys. You made it. Yay!

[lynyrdwrites]

Request

Okay, so I had a surprising number of folk request Elucien for my smut writing.  And since I finally have my laptop back, I got to writing! So here it is, my first Elucien one shot.  It’s college AU and very nsfw. I hope y’all enjoy it!

---

Lucien had fallen on the floor.

              He had read about it happening, in the cheap Harlequin romances he kept hidden under his bed, because he just knew the guys at the frat would never let him live their existence down, but he had never actually imagined it would actually happen to him.  Yet there he was, looking up at Elain as she looked down at him, her gaze averted as she fought not to laugh.

              He didn’t think there was anything funny about this.

              Elain was sweet.  Elain was innocent.  Elain was the girl that he had fallen almost immediately into infatuation with.

              Elain was looking at her from beneath her eyelashes, and suddenly she didn’t seem like sweet, innocent Elain anymore.

              “Could you repeat that?” he asked hoarsely, because maybe he had been hearing things.  Maybe one of the dreams that haunted him far too often at night had decided to haunt his days as well.

              “I asked if you would be willing to fuck me.”

              That’s what he thought she had said, and now he felt a bit warm.  Elain leaned forward, resting her chin on her palm, her lips quirking at the corner. Lucien cleared his throat, and wondered if there was any way he could hide the erection that had  begun to form at just the  thought of what fucking Elain would entail.

              “Look, Elain, I’m not sure what you’ve heard but I’m not… I don’t… I’m not into that…  stuff.”

              There had been other girls since he’d come to the university, that had looked at him with his missing eye and the vicious scars and assumed things about him.  Things that weren’t necessarily true because, behind the sarcasm, Lucien was sort of… awkward. At least when it came to intimacy. Intimacy with this particular woman would probably leave him a mess.

              “That stuff?” Elain repeated, and Lucien found himself rapidly re-evaluating his opinion of her. Because he was pretty sure he had to look bright red, but Elain just looked vaguely amused. “So, you’re not into sex, then?  Or is it just sex with me that you’re not into?”

              “I…” Lucien could count on one hand the number of times he’d been left speechless since adulthood. It was part of the sarcasm; Lucien was always  quick with a smartass remark. But Elain looking  at him with those guileless blue eyes and asking him oh so sweetly if he simply wasn’t into sex with him… it left him undone.  “Nesta would kill me!”

              It was Elain’s turn to appear taken aback. But Lucien had grasped onto this new path, and he would take it, come hell or high water.

              “And it’s not just her. It’s Feyre,  and those brutes the two of them like to spend so much time with. And…and… Amren.” Just the name made Lucien shiver a bit.  To see her was to think she was harmless, but Lucien knew better.  Amren was terrifying.

              “That excuse is just… bad, Lucien.” The amusement had faded from Elain’s face. In fact, all emotion had disappeared, replaced by a slight tightness around her lips and eyes. She reached for his books, the ones he had spread on her bed when he arrived to study. “Maybe you should go.”

              “Elain, wait.” Lucien reached out, grasping her wrists gently. She froze, but didn’t look at him. So he moved his hands, so he could cradle her face in his palms, turning her face towards him. “Elain, I-”

              Dammit. Awkward.  Always fucking awkward.

              So instead of talking, he slanted his mouth over hers.  She gasped slightly, and Lucien let his tongue sweep into her mouth. Her lips were soft under his, and when he stroked his tongue against hers, she eagerly responded.

              It was heaven, to pull Elain’s slim body into his. She threaded her fingers into his hair, her fingers massaging his scalp, and it made Lucien want to purr. Instead, he just maneuvered them, so she was on her back on the bed.

              “I… I guess it’s not me,” Elain gasped when he pulled back from her.  There was no way that she could miss the way his cock was pressing into her, but rather than blush or try to pull away, Elain just wiggled against him.

              “We should stop.” Lucien said.  “I should… take you out, or something. To dinner. Or the movies.”

              “Are you asking me out?” Elain asked, her fingers still stroking his scalp.  Lucien’s eyes drifted to half-mast at the sensation.

              “Yes,” he murmured, his voice more of a purr than anything.

              “Okay,” Elain agreed, with a nod.  “I’d like that. After you fuck me.”

              The fingers in his hair tightened, and Elain tugged him down, pressing her lips to his again.  Lucien grasped her hip with one hand, groaning into the kiss when Elain re-adjusted her position, so his cock was cradled between her legs.

              “Dammit, Elain,” Lucien growled, forcefully pulling himself away and retreating to sit on the edge of the bed.  “I’m trying to be a good guy right now.”

              “I know,” Elain agreed.  The bed shifted behind him, and Lucien looked  back to see her sitting up.  “It’s sweet. And cute.”

              “Why?” he demanded.  “Why do you want me to…”

              “Fuck me?” Elain offered helpfully.  Lucien just growled again and looked away from her. The bed dipped again, then Elain was wrapping her arms around him from behind, resting her chin on his shoulder.

              “Stop saying that,” he muttered darkly, and then paused for a  moment before,  “and yes. That.”

              “My sisters,” Elain said after a moment, her words slow, almost hesitant.  “They… I mean, we don’t really talk about sex, but I see them, with wild hair and this look on their faces. And it’s just – I know what you think, Lucien.  What they think, and what every boyfriend I’ve ever had has thought. And they’ve treated me appropriately, even in bed. But did you maybe think that maybe sweet little Elain wants to be ravished?  I want that look, Lucien, the one my sisters have.”

              Lucien knew the look she was talking about. Wild hair, and wet, swollen lips, and a self-satisfied smirk that lit the eyes.  The thought of Elain with that look, caused by him, actually made Lucien yearn.

              “Elain… you sisters wouldn’t like it. You and me-”

              “Nesta is freakishly overprotective, so she doesn’t count.  It wouldn’t matter who I decided to date.  And Feyre is angry, but she misses you.” Lucien felt himself start at that. The last time he’d spoken to Feyre, it hadn’t gone well.  He’d always regretted that.  Thoughts of Feyre quickly fled when Elain cupped his chin and turned his face towards her.  “And really? I love them, but my sisters don’t get a say in my love life.  I trust you, Lucien. So…”

              “I’m going to hell,” Lucien decided, closing his eyes for a moment.  “I’m going to hell,  and you’re the  one that’s going to take me.”

              He turned into her kissing her again.  Her hands ran down his chest, and then tugged at the bottom of his t-shirt.  He helped her pull it over his head, and then  watched as she did the same with her own tanktop. Lucien felt his tongue go dry when he saw her bra – a red number made of sheer lace that was made to be ripped off her body.

              “You’re prepared,” Lucien commented, his voice hoarse.

              “I am,” Elain replied.  “I tried out girl scouts when I was younger.  It didn’t quite stick, but they taught me to be prepared.”

              “That’s hot,” Lucien replied.  “I’m not entirely sure why, but it is.”

              He rolled her onto her back, and pressed his lips into her neck.  He kissed his way  down her chest, and along the edge of her bra. He cupped her breasts, plumping them up, his thumbs  grazing over her nipples through  the lace. Elain let out a tiny whimper and arched her back.

              “Use your teeth,” she said, her finger nails digging into his shoulders.

              Fuck me. That had been her request… and if Lucien was going to hell, he might as well go all the way.

              He scraped his teeth down her neck, and sucked the delicate skin where her neck met her shoulder.   Then continued to kiss his way back down.  He tugged her bra down, and continued to alternate between kisses and nips until he found her nipple.

              “Oh…  oh,” Elain murmured, tugging at his hair when he ran his tongue over her nipple and then, very gently, tugged at  it with his teeth. “Do that again.”

              Lucien wondered what Elain’s past boyfriends had done with her, that a little bit of teeth play made her sound like that – as though she’d had a revelation. But that line of thought made him think of the other men Elain had been with, and that wasn’t a path he wanted to venture down.

              Instead, he buried his hand in her hair and kissed her again.  This time, it was a consuming kiss.  The kind that would leave her lips swollen, just like Elain wanted.  She moaned into his mouth, a sound that went right to Lucien’s cock.

              He let out a low, pained hiss when her hand grazed his erection, her fingers going to work eagerly on his jeans.

              “Christ Elain,” he groaned, stilling her hand. “Slow down.”

              “I thought this was supposed to be fast.  Isn’t that the point?” she looked almost petulant, and Lucien had to chuckle and press another kiss to her lips.

              “Fast will be an understatement if I finish before we even start. Besides… if you want it fast, then I need you wet.”

              He dropped his hands to the waist band of her skirt, and blinked in surprise when Elain pushed his hands away.  He watched as she reached under her skirt and pulled off a….

              A thong. Red and lacy, to match her bra.

              She tossed it aside and then smiled up at him.

              “Leave the rest of the clothes on.”

              “Shit,” Lucien muttered, and let him pull her down for more kissing.   This time, he reached under her skirt, delving his fingers between the lips of her pussy.  She was already  wet and hot, and damn if that didn’t make him even harder.

              He thrust his fingers in and out, and teased her clit with his thumb. His gaze was avid on her face, as she arched into his fingers and clutched at the sheets.  He was pretty sure he’d a dream exactly like this.  He’d woken from it hard and sweaty, and had to take care of himself.

              This time, he realized, that wouldn’t be the case.

              “Will you stop teasing?” Elain asked, looking at him through narrow slits.

              “No,” Lucien replied with a smirk.  Because there was another thing he needed to do, something straight out of his dreams.

              “Wha – oh, fuck.”

              There was something about hearing Elain swear that made him hot and bothered and unable to think of anything but getting into her.  Still, before he did that, he needed to taste her.

              And shit, but she tasted like heaven.  With her legs over his shoulder, he applied his tongue to her clit, licking and sucking. He thrust his fingers into her again, her inner muscles clenched around him, and he grinned against her when her heard her low muttering.

              “Shit shit shit shit shitshitshitshit.”

              The cursing got quicker and more desperate as Lucien dedicated all is attention to getting her off.  Elain pushed her hips up, pressing her pussy into his lips, and Lucien doubled down, until she let out a sharp shriek, clenching his fingers tightly.

              “Wow,” she gasped, breathing hard as Lucien lowered her hips back to the bed.  “I just… wow.”

              Lucien slid his body up hers, and pressed is lips next to her ear.

              “Did you still want me to fuck you?”

              “Stop asking and just do,” she growled back.

              Lucien grasped her hips. He released his cock and positioned it at her opening, and then thrust into her.  His fingers dug in, and she pulled back, then thrust back in.

              “You’re going to want to hold on, Sweetheart,” Lucien told her.  For a second, Elain looked confused.

              Then… Lucien fucked her.

              He grasped her wrists over her head and began to thrust wildly.  Elain wrapped her legs around his waist and moved her hips with him.

              “I want to  touch you,” she panted, and Lucien released his hold, planting his hands on either side of her head, while she grasped his shoulders.  Her nails bit in, and Lucien was sure there would be scratches in the  morning, but he didn’t really care. Instead heh buried his face in her neck and continued to move.  

              “Fuckfuckfuckfuck.”

              Lucien didn’t know who was muttering the curse – if it was him, or her, or maybe both of them.

              The shout though, when they both finally came… that was all Elain.

              For a moment, he stayed on top of her, both of them gasping for breath. He realized he had to be far too heavy for her, but he didn’t want to pull away, not yet.  So he rolled onto his back, taking her with him.  She moved, resting her chin on hands she placed on his chest and grinned up at him.

              “You look pleased with yourself,” Lucien murmured, closing his eyes and stroking a hand over her hair.

              “I’m pretty sure you left bruises on my hips.”

              Lucien’s eyes snapped open, and he was ready to apologize. But Elain, eyes closed and head resting on her hands, was smiling.  Her hair was wild, and her lips were swollen, her skin still lightly flushed.

              “Don’t ruin this out of some sort of misplaced gentleman instinct, Lucien,” Elain warned him, never opening her eyes.   “This is exactly what I wanted.”

              “Wouldn’t dream of it,” Lucien promised, closing his own eyes.  It felt peaceful, lying there, Elain pressed against him.  “When your sisters come to kill me, you’ll protect me, won’t you?”

              Elain giggled into his chest.  Lucien didn’t think he’d ever felt so content.

[bansheefunk]

Just watched: A bunch of pirated DVDs I found around the house.

8 nov '18, night I haven't watch a DVD in years but somehow this bulk found a way to my home, mostly from my sister, I think she saw these movies on her laptop but I didn't had a way to even play them. My sister ditched her old laptop, I took it, installed Windows 8.1 and I released that I can use it as a media player with ease, immediately these old DVDs came to my mind so I decided to actually watch them for the first time. Having physical media on my hands after so long feels super nostalgic. actually interacting with the movie as an object is an unique feeling we've lost, I've yearned for it and this has made me so happy.

The Baron of Arizona (1950) I have to admit I saw this movie last week but didn't feel like writing anything about it. My first thought was "This is the count of montecristo but backwards" because it's about a man who organizes a complex plot to better his life but as the movie goes on this persists showing that his well being is ruining the lives of other people. Is not a movie that challenges the viewer but it's a ruse so outlandish it makes for it.

The Steel Helmet (1951) I should point out these criterion movies I have are from a collection of the early films of Samuel Fuller, Who is Samuel Fuller? I don't know really. This movie was produced while the korea war was still gong on and you can tell they could not film on location. I'm very undecided if this movie is propaganda or not, it may even be sincere on it's language of support but if it's not then it fails terribly, it's too soft on its criticism and makes no attempt to show the worst parts of war or trying to humanize the enemy. This movie bothers me, I don't want to think it's sincere propaganda but offers really little out of it. After watching this movie I decided to write these impressions, it's trip worth going across.

15 nov 18, night I Shot Jesse James (1949) I didn't work!. my computer wasn't even able to read it! Cue Family Guy skit about the goodness of physical then it doesn't work.

Heat (1995) My first reaction was seeing this movie's play time and going all '3 fucking hours!' in disbelief. When I finally sat to watch it I was very surprised, all these big name actors, how come I never heard of this movie before? Possibly because it was never on TV because of '3 fucking hours!' Soon enough I was very charmed. this movie is well made and there is no other way to put it, everything from the photography to the performances everything deliverers the right point, like eating food at the exact temperature that you like adding more to the experience. When I first started watching I didn't release this movie was from 1995 and there is nothing in the movie that sets it on such year giving an authentic atemporal feeling. Still there is something grand about this movie, like if this was the top of what hollywood schlock could aspire to be, this is still a crime movie after all but a damn good one and I feel bad I never saw it before.

20 nov '18, night Skyfall (2012) I'm not the biggest James Bond fan, I've seen some of the movies when they're on TV, saw casino Royale on theaters and I'm familiar with the lore. I'm not a casual but I can't spout mindless trivia. The movie was quiet long, two and a half hours but it was so well photographed, why does this type of schlock always look so good? This entry tried to be a game changer for the franchise, we get new characters in the old roles, new offices for the M16 and they try to give Bond some character, it's all acknowledged and it's so strange because on the Bond films I've seen they don't pretend the new actors took over the previews one. Giving Bond some depth really disgusted me, Bond has mostly been like Tintin or Link, a blank slate for the viewer but now that Bond is a scotsman from a wealthy family and an orphan I don't like him so much but beside that I can't hate this movie, it's just schlock for those who like schlock and doesn't try to e anything but schlock and I respect that. I also want to complain that once I was done with this movie the plastic bag where it came from was nowhere to be found, I'm frustrated about having to look up a freaking plastic bag just for this.

26 nov '18, night Max Payne (2008) When I started to watch this movie I thought it was good, the right balance of style, action, drama and grit. When I sat to watch the second half the sound started to go off but I fixed it switching the language but this cycled continued and the audio laster shorter and shorter times until I hat to sit on front of the laptop and changing the language each minute, it was awful and by the end when I got a montage of what we saw 20 minutes ago but with different cuts  felt offended, I felt like if the movie wanted to waste my time and overall any joy or good opinions I had were extinguished, maybe some other time I could had enjoyed this better but not I only feel a Family Guy gag mocking me for trusting a DVD that had lived in a plastic bag for years.

30 nov '18, night Serpico (1973) My first reaction to this movie was "What a fucking boomer and his boomer booms" but our main character grew on me and I started to empathize with him, he's a pure soul, too pure for this world but strong who fought for what he believed and for a better world, it's really a touching drama and hard to hate. A thing that fascinated me was the mise en scene, everything looks old, like if it was already old when the movie was shot but I know all that stuff was new I'm just used to see every prop after years and years of use. And I loved the way everything in the city looked, it felt like it had a sad story to tell. This is a good move that won me over after having a bad first impression.

5 nov '18, night Blue (1993) I started seeing this the night I finished Serpico, I thought I could watch the first 10 minutes but the dvd died before that, I thought I was set for another bad disc but few days later I tried again, skipped around and managed to get the movie running tho there are like 6 minutes missing at the beginning, I didn't mind them but as the movie went on I released that I missed something important stuff, I didn't got what it was supposed to be but the negative space stays with me. This movie is a damn good movie and there is no other way to put it, everything is too well done and the only thing I feel is left behind is the soundtrack but that is just me being tires of all soundtracks sounding the same but it's used so well it charms for different reasons. This is a very slow and thick character drama and examination, is the kind of movie I wish I could make, the kind of story I wish I could tell.

10 dic '18, night Red (1994) Is hard to talk about this movie, so many things go on yet it doesn't feel rushed or cramped, it a human story realistic but yet has that edge that reminds you it's pure fiction. Its a roller coaster of emotions but feels so serene. All honest I feel Blue is above Red but I can't wait to see white.

14 dic '18, past midnight White (1994) I don't have much to say about this one, it took me by surprise that most of it was in polish, I didn't expect one of these movie to be set in poland like this but still has ties to france. all the movies in this trilogy tell a human story that also has something that bents it and requires some suspension of disbelief, they're not fantasy but they're like a urban legend or a very distorted real account. Right now I think in order of quality they're Blue > White > Red which is also the order that came out, maybe watching them out of order really affected how do I think about them.

21 dic '18, night Cry baby (1990) When I saw the cover I expected a drama, a greaser crying just summoned he image of a post war hollywood drama like Blackboard Jungle, Picnic, The Lost Weekend or the obvious choice rebel Without A Cause. I pop the movie in and I'm greeted a a dumb comedy wrapped in some many layers of irony the core is completely lost, I can tell is a comedy but only one joke made me laugh, none of the songs stuck with me and overall the only thing the movie leaves on me is a slight ironic 50's nostalgia. When I was done with the film I told my sister about it (She own the DVD after all) and she said this movie was too tame for a John Waters film, the guy who made Pink Flamingos also made this and that was so shocking. This movie is just strange on the inside and the outside.

29 dic '18, night The Breed (2006) This movie is so bad it only survived by sharing a case with a good movie, I found this crap in the same case for two Clint Eastwood movie, I never heard about it before and after finally watching I can see why. Supposedly this is a horror movie but everything it sets out to be fails on its task, the first thing I found jarring was the photography, is very warm and mellow, in no point does this look like a horror movie and always looks like a romance or an R&B video. The second big issue are the dogs, the dogs are the monster of the movie and they just don't rub me in a bad way, the movie fails to show dogs in a scary or aggressive manner and some scenes that are supposed to be scary are actually kind of cute, these dogs are adorable no matter how much they bark, as the movie went on I released the dogs didn't stand a chance, tons of dogs get hurt or killed while we only get two humans dead and a third from an accident were a dog also died. This movie is bad, a legitimate 4/10, goddammit.

7 ene '18, night Unforgiven (1992) I can't say much about this movie beside that it's damn good, I'm unsure why but I think it has the right balance between, character development, action and drama but I may be wrong. Also the photography is very crispy I can't believe this movie is from 1992, I thought it was from 2002 the first time I popped the DVD in.

10 ene '19, night The Outlaw Josey Wales (1976) Another really good movie. I'm very charmed by the sense of adventure, things happen out of nothing and some of them go away just like that, there is a sense of restlessness across the movie and that drives it, we feel the character's pathos and march with them without feeling the same danger and it's that chaotic feeling what makes this movie feel so human, things happen up and down like in life and not like in movies where things happen to move the story, the characters were the ones moving and things happened to them. Also both of the Clint Eastwood movies had several things in common, both start with Eastwood's characters as simple men who have to take arms for money and war respectively, both feature a younger sidekick who gets tired with the violence and an overall feeling that the violence we're seeing is not the way things should be, I'm sure these movies were packed together because of that and I really like that message. These are all the DVDs that are around the house, I should catch up with some cartoons now, I want to take a picture of the DVDs but as the moment I'm writing this I don't have a camera, it'll be a while before I can publish this.

[mint-sm]

LOS CAMPESINOS! REVIEW/ANALYSIS: No Blues

Ugh… I’m about to do a bad thing and probably make a lot of other Los Camp fans angry. If they actually read this, that is.

Okay, I want you to take a look at this cover art for a second. This kinda lush greenery flushed out with this pink-ish mist. It’s a little funny visual pun of the title of this album (Get it? No blues? Hah), and it probably does bring some form of atmosphere and interest to someone in the right mindset or just has a different taste in visual aesthetics… but I’m sorry, personally for me, it’s kinda flat. Not only is that pink that kind of flat-looking “millennial pastel pink,” but as a whole, this cover feels like it’s lacking contrast.

Honestly, it feels like a bit of an apt summation for the album itself: I can totally see the potential appeal to a certain crowd, and there might technically be nothing much wrong with it, but honestly, I can’t get into it despite it apparently getting a lot more positive response than something like “Romance is Boring.” I’m not trying to be resentful or anything, but it’s kinda confusing because while I can find a lot of arguments as to why “Romance is Boring” is so compelling, I can’t honestly find much about “No Blues” that explains why people love it so much, and it just doesn’t do it for me. That’s basically the “No Blues” right there. It don’t do it for me.

So remember in my first few Los Camp reviews how I said the band has 3 distinct eras? Reminder: “Hold on Now Youngster...” and about half of “We Are Beautiful, We Are Doomed” were part of a “Twee Pop Era,” which then bled slightly into the “Noise Rock Era” with “Romance is Boring,” but it was immediately halted with “Hello Sadness,” and since then with this album and the next, “Sick Scenes,” we’ve been in a sort of “Mellow Alt Rock Era.” “No Blues” epitomizes this era very much, and it does signify a lot of the gradual changes to the band throughout the years that I can both appreciate, but also not.

On one hand, I’m really glad that Los Camp have changed their sound as pretty fluidly as they had. While I think I’ll always find their earlier works a bit more compelling, I’m glad to see that a crashing twee-rock band of college students in their 20’s is willing to grow up an adapt to something more mature-sounding and refined with a few more years to grow and personally develop, especially in a music scene that has kind of eschewed the music they had found previous success in, and have shifted to this sort of alt rock scene. One that has much cleaner production and mixing, one with slightly gentler guitars, tighter vocals, and more “grown-up,” much more self-aware themes.

I’m also glad that this was made during a point where Gareth Campesinos! finally seemed to reach a breakthrough and write lyrics and music that was especially HIM. Going once again back to “Youngster,” another reason why he’s not very fond of it was because of his lyrics, which he felt like was from a caricature of himself rather than himself-himself, and it felt rather dishonest or the like. Starting from “No Blues,” it seems Gareth has finally allowed himself to be as freely-moving and esoteric as he wanted, especially since the darkness of his 2011 personal history that resulted in “Hello Sadness” being the darkest album they’ve ever released no longer clouded him. I can totally respect that: he finally found a grip on the type of music that he wants to make, and the band was now free to reach its current goals, and that’s completely appreciable an artist.

MY PROSE IS PURPLE BUT NOT AS PRETTY AS LUCER-ER-ER-ERRRNE! / FOR SWEET NOTHINGS FROM THE LIPS OF A GARGOYLE, NOBODY EVER YEARNED /

HOWEVER... The problem that I immediately have with “No Blues” is that despite all of its admirable artistic intentions, it comes off as pretty pale and boring, to be honest. Musically and lyrically, this album just is not very compelling to me, because it honestly feels way too much of an attempt at the band going “Oh fuck yes, we’re done with being emo like in Hello Sadness, now we can actually write the music that we actually want to make!” But instead of it turning out somewhat adventurous, it feels both very crammed, rushed, and mildly inaccessible (for the band, anyway), and it’s done so in a way that it’s not only lacking diversity, but there’s almost no room for it to properly breathe, and as such just feels samey-sounding and choked a lot of the time.

Two terms I’ve used a lot regarding Los Camp’s discography are “dense” and “engaging,” and I think I need to specifically define what I mean by that. When I say “dense,” it usually means the music or the lyrics are compact with details, sometimes in like a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it rate. This gives a lot of the albums a lot of their relistinability, and you’ll keep finding more and more creative and colorful little moments every time you listen to a song.

But something that you also need to tap on if you want to make them actually worth listening to again is that you have to make them “engaging,” and that comes as a result of a lot of things, such as making the music or lyrics properly digestible, building up empathy or sympathy, building up the listener’s interest in the topics you want to delve into, whether the listener is remotely interested in your topics, etc. It’s not an exact thing and it is very subjective, but unfortunately, I don’t feel that majority of “No Blues” really checks off any of those ticks.

With “No Blues,” what it often feels like is that the lyrics have become very dense, with some of the most obscure references to date -- lots of lyrics about other musicians’ lyrics, politics, obscure postmodernist novelists, constellations, Greek mythology in correlation to those constellations, and European football. Holy shit, European football is everywhere on this album -- but there’s nothing particularly engaging about it unless you actually give a damn about it, because as I mentioned with “Hello Sadness,” one of my bigger problems with it was that it lacked context.

PEOPLE LAUGH, THEY WILL CALL IT FOLLY / BUT WE CONNECTED LIKE A YEBOAH VOLLEY /

Yeah, these may be complex and esoteric metaphors, but not only do they end up being incredibly distracting for me as I have to manually figure out with almost every line what the hell emotion Gareth’s supposed to be conveying, but I have no real drive or motive to actually bother because it doesn’t really say anything as is (That “Yeboah volley” line above? Guess what that’s supposed to mean without googling it. Trust me, context doesn’t really help) In that regard, it’s actually making an even bigger flaw I had with “Hello Sadness” even worse: Los Camp’s first three albums were able to convey a smattering of different, sometimes diametrically opposing emotions. “Hello Sadness” reduced itself to be being more comfortable with trying to convey just one.

But “No Blues”? I can’t really find anything that personal or really that narrative or thematic about what’s going on here other than a really vague… I dunno, millennial liberation? Light humor? Mature upbeatness? This doesn’t feel confusing in the sense that “which one of these  many emotions should I be REALLY feeling?,” it’s more like “what is this one thing I’m supposed to latch onto? Whatever it is, it feels like I’m clutching at straws here.” Or more directly, it’s just one-half an emotion at best, and even then, there’s nothing very engaging or dynamic about it.

And that’s one of my biggest problems with the album as a whole, as well as why up to this point I really haven’t said anything about specific songs yet. It all feels rather flat and too clean for its own good, like a really sharp, hard glowing red, now being reduced into a flat, grayish pink. It might have a little bit more shine to it, but a lot of its actual vibrance has been lost, resulting in all the songs being mostly homogenous, unadventurous alternative indie rock that honestly doesn’t feel like it’s offering anything that new or unique as a now-turned alt-rock indie band. It may have shed the youthful problems that Los Camp themselves felt they were plagued with, but in the end it feels like a lot of that youthfulness is what made them so compelling, and now they’re just… boring.

THERE'S NO BOX TO TICK FOR RED, SO I PUT DOWN BLUE INSTEAD / 'CAUSE IT'S CLOSEST THERE'S TO GREY IN THE CATEGORIES / AND THE VEINS WITHIN THE WHITES ARE A STATEMENT OF DEMISE / DOE EYES, YOU SHOULD STAY AT HOME LICKING BATTERIES /

But I suppose I should get onto individual tracks. Like I said, a lot of it feels rather homogenous and unadventurous, and as such, a lot of it is pretty uninteresting to talk about since most of the tracks feel like they lack diversity, lyrically and sonically.

“What Death Leaves Behind” and “Cemetery Gaits” are I feel what are the album’s more “banger” tracks, but unfortunately, with the cleaner and more sterile production, a lot of it feels a little flaccid. Yes, Gareth’s voice is loud, the drums and guitars are wailing away, and you can totally tell when they’re trying to make the catchy standout moments, but that’s kind of the problem: I can totally expect what they’re doing at this point, and it doesn’t strike any chords for me.

They’re playing chords, they said their lines (which again, since they’re so obtuse a lot of the time, I can’t really hear them as anything except just words instead of, yknow, concepts or ideas), but it all sounds very generic and sanitized, and honestly very stuffed; since there’s not a lot of proper breathing room or actual relief, the progression of these songs are often very uneventful and unsatisfying. In these tracks especially, I don’t feel any sense of escalation, climax or relief despite SOME flatly-mixed-in additional instruments near the end; it all somehow sounds exactly the same and I’m like “Get the hell on with it already! Where’s the actual payoff?”

I feel bad drawing comparisons back to the band’s earlier works, but I kinda have to because it shows the band have been shown to be capable of definite satisfaction (hell, some tracks I’ll get to later on manage to pull this off). Those albums were messier and noisier, yes, but if I could describe them as like a texture, they would be like nice slabs of concrete pavement. Probably really gritty, but not unpleasant enough to walk on barefoot, and you’ll probably get a lot of different consistencies and feels depending on how it was paved, and overall it feels solid.

“No Blues” on the other hand just feels like a sheet of completely smooth, cheap plastic. Brittle, lacking in texture, and completely devoid of life despite it attempting to mimic a popular sound and style, but whether by design or by accident, it’s still cheap, hollow, and feels really artificial, but not even in like a PC Music/SOPHIE way where it’s also trying to be so whacked-out and alien and uncanny-valley-ish on purpose.

This trait also goes onto the slower moments, such as “A Portrait of the Trequartista as a Young Man” or “Glue Me” or “Selling Rope (Swan Dive to Estuary)”, which again, are not only not very musically adventurous, and they get kinda tedious and boring after a minute or so despite any sort of attempts at escalation or being dynamic, and the lyrics that could usually pick up that slack are really unengaging. I’m reading the lyrics, and I’m trying to find the many, many references in this album, but while I can understand them, I don’t “get” them, because I’m like “Okay? So?”

MAKE HIM RECITE THIS MURDER BALLAD / A SOMBRE TUNE TOLD BY A BORE / PUMP BLOOD AROUND THE LIMP AND PALLID / HARMONISING AS YOU SNORED /

However, I will say though, this album isn’t completely devoid of good ideas, because despite me saying this album doesn’t have a lot of standout moments, there are some good concepts here and there. While I think the rest of the song is kinda “meh,” “Cemetery Gaits” has a pretty neat intro, with that small swooping, kinda-windy and radio-wave-sounding soundscape matched with this little looping synth arpeggios, then gradually matched with a gradual increase instrumentation, like guitars, pianos, then finally just exploding with drums, it’s a great start to the track. It’s a shame that it doesn’t quite escalate any further than that, even with the introduction of Gareth’s vocals, multi-man chorus and that... ugh… millennial whoop near the end.

“As Lucerne/The Low” also starts of pretty well, and I think the verses actually do more in getting close to building a vibrancy that Los Camp was sorely needing, especially since the opening lines are just Gareth wailing “There is no blues that could sound quite as heartfelt as mi-i-i-iiine!”, just this wonderful bit of self-deprecating yet such sincere energy that I’ve missed for since previous albums, and is just one hell of an intro (I remember this was the first song of the concert I went to, and it was just like “Yep, that’s Los Camp!”). Unfortunately, by the time you get to the choruses, it all just slows down really awkwardly as all Gareth does is sing “Is what I came for… in the darkness I do adore… is what I came for” and it just doesn’t work, especially alongside those tropical steel drums. Yeah… I don’t really get it either.

I think one of the only tracks I love all the way through is the first one, “For Flotsam,” which admittedly does set a good first impression for the band’s new sound on the album. Refined and maybe a little too pristine, yes, but it actually covers a lot of range instrumentally and vocally, and actually feels like it has an actual atmospheric soundscape, and the mixing actually makes everything stick out a bit more.

Also, while the melody I probably should find monotonous and boring, especially with Kim’s looping vocals in the background that almost sound kinda artificial at times, it surprisingly flows really well, and it actually feels powerful and kinda… grooving at times. It’s got a really catchy hook, the melodies actually feel diverse, the lyrics are nowhere near as overly-ornate and distractingly referential as with other songs, and it provides both a satisfying rising tension AND also a satisfying climactic payoff, I love it.

FLOTSAM, JETSAM AND SPINDRIFT, ALL THE GIRLS I HAVE LOVED / DUMPED TO EARTH BY A SPENDTHRIFT, GILT ANGELS FROM ABOVE! / AND I SAW GOD IN THE BATHROOM, I BAPTISED HIM IN SICK / EMBRACED HIM AROUND HIS CISTERN, "C'EST LA MORT, ENOUGH OF THIS!" /

“Avocado Baby” is also a pretty good track, which also seemed to have a more compelling mix to it, and actually feels like a poppy “banger” track that does have more energy and a few more laughs to it that actually make sense without being a diehard football fanatic. The lyrics here feel a lot less overly-poetic than in other songs, and it manages to have a dense amount of wordplay in a way that’s both more easily digestible, but also pretty playful and kinda cute, especially for this era of Los Camp.

I HAD A FRIEND WHO HAD MADE A FLAG DAY / BLOOD ON THEIR HANDS FROM SHARDS OF A HEARTBREAK / I HAVE KNOWN FRIENDS TO CRACK FROM LOVE'S WEIGHT / BLOSSOM IN RIBCAGE, UNTIL THEIR BACKS BREAK! /

These two songs near the end, “Let It Spill” and “The Time Before the Last Time” also do manage to be a bit more accessible, and are more actually explicitly about something: Sex. Yay! But this being Los Camp, it’s played for a bit more awkwardness and comedy, one of my favorites being with this lyric in the latter song: “The shower-head moaned / and I looked down to the tray / Sons and daughters washed away.” Gross.

These actually do feel more instrumentally engaging as well. I love that descending, actually genuinely energetic and climactic chord progression for the chorus to “Let It Spill,” and that weirdly synthesized soundscape of “The Time Before the Last Time” actually feels both really refreshing, but also kinda beautiful and epic, and something that I honestly didn’t feel like I’ve heard Los Camp make before, but I’m glad they did.

LET IT SPILL, LET IT SPILL / LET IT SPILL ALL OVER US TWO / YOU'LL FIND ME UPSIDE DOWN IN THE BELFRY / 'CAUSE BABY, I'M BATS, IT IS TRUE /

I hesitate to call “No Blues” a “bad” album. I honestly do feel like I am missing something, especially when I write this among a sea of people who find that this album is one of Los Camp’s best. It has a lot of great ideas, and it even has a few really good songs, but the sum of its parts just isn’t making a compelling whole for me, and while I will still listen to those songs, there are a lot of parts of this album that don’t do it for my tastes.

I get the feeling that this really does come down to a lot of personal tastes and biases. I know that everybody has an equally valid opinion, but at the same time I kinda feel as though this album just wasn’t made for my person in mind, and in the end, it probably wasn’t. As I said earlier, this was basically Gareth deciding to go all irreverent and write the lyrics he wanted, and the band the music they wanted, and as it just so happens, it seems a lot of people genuinely appreciate it, so you know what, good for them; I’m glad they still have an appropriate audience (one that I can only assume are just as much football fanatics as most of the band is, and trust me, the football isn’t going to leave anytime soon).

Unfortunately, for me, I’m not that person. I’m less interested in Gareth’s referential humor and poetry and more for him being able to craft those conflicting mental mindscapes through standalone metaphors born from a deep sense of self-deprecating self-awareness, and in a way that anybody can really immediately sympathize with him. When he does come through with those moments in this album, I think it’s great, especially when the production becomes once again able to carry that emotion.

Sadly for me, most of the time, it does not, and what you get is like this weird plastic, beige box covered completely smoothly with a few symmetrical football-themed etchings onto it. If you have an appreciation for uniform, productive smoothness and those football-themed etchings, I won’t hold you back from appreciating it, but as for me, it’s just kinda “meh.” And that’s a shame. (2/5)

FAVES: “For Flotsam”, “Avocado, Baby”, “Let It Spill”, “The Time Before the Last Time”