#cai the private eye

[lisired]

where angels fear to tread

pairing: jaehyun x (f) reader

genre/warnings: fwb to lovers, fluff, implied smut, angst

summary: Three years ago, you had a summer fling with Jung Jaehyun, and what was simply sex turned into more after you caught feelings for him. Then, you find out he has a girlfriend, and decide to call it quits. Three years later, he's back in town, trying to come back in your life, and most importantly trying to come back into your heart, but you're a little hesitant to let him.

word count: 14.5k

a/n: i think this was my first jaehyun fic? LOL… as always, feedback is appreciated!

“Not fair.”

“It’s very much fair, Jaemin.”

“How come the blueberry head gives you shit on the house? I asked him for a free coffee and he told me the only way I was getting coffee for free was if he splashed it on my face. Very unprofessional. I demand the manager.”

You want to tell him that the manager would just suck up to Taeyong in private because the customer is always wrong, but something in you tells you to be quiet.

“Saved his life,” you shrug, digging a fork into your pie.

“Saved his life?” Jaemin repeats, wide-eyed, “you just said that like it was the most normal thing ever.”

“I don’t think he would have actually died,” you mutter, but decide to tell the tale anyway, “You remember when I told you I was taking a two-week vacation out of town because Yeri invited me and some of her friends to her stepdad’s beach house?” Jaemin nods, “Well Taeyong was one of those friends. Saved him from drowning in the pool, and ever since he thinks he owes me his life, so he gives me a lifetime worth of stuff on the house.”

You consider Jaemin your best friend, although him not physically being with you for the past two years was the reason why he’s unaware of some minor details of your life during those years. Of course, he knew about the vacation—you had so much fun that you told him nearly every damn detail of it—but there was still some things you kept to yourself. Such as how you saved Taeyong from drowning. You thought that you’d look like a praise-seeker for bringing that up anyway.

You scan the room for Taeyong (the blueberry head) and once your eyes find him, you wave and wink. He waves back and smiles bashfully, before tending to one of his customers. You also think that Taeyong might have a little crush on you, but that’s not relevant at the moment.

“Oh wow. I guess not all heroes wear capes. Some heroes wear pie crumbs on their mouths.”

You wipe the corner of your mouth with a napkin then squeeze it into a ball to throw at Jaemin, making him gasp dramatically and start rambling about how you shouldn’t treat the best friend you haven’t seen in two years like this, but the chime of the cafe door distracts you. Your face falls in horror, and you’re still as a statue as it all races back. The pain, the memories, the emotions, everything you gave him that you can’t take back.

“I have to go,” you say, but Jaemin grabs your wrist.

His voice is filled to the brim with concern, “What’s wrong?”

Where you do even start? You sigh, ducking your head on the table in an attempt to cover your face the best that you can. The past is intertwining with the present and you do not enjoy it one bit. Fortunately, he sits away from you and doesn’t seem to acknowledge your presence in the room, but it’s just your luck that for the first time you’re seeing him in almost two years, he chooses to show up right here, right now.

“See that guy that just walked in?”

Jaemin nods with reluctance, subtly scanning said guy with his eyes, “Yeah, what about him?”

With a deep breath, you brace yourself for uncovering a part of your past that you’d rather keep ancient history, “Remember that fling I told you about from the vacation? That was him. And I never told you this, but we didn’t exactly end on the best of terms. I called it quits when I found out that he had a girlfriend.”

Another one of the vay-cay details that you kept to yourself. Technically, you did tell him about the fling, but it was nothing too specific aside from the fact that you were getting dicked down. You never told him about the way things abruptly ended, and you sure as hell never told him that you caught feelings for a cheater.

Jaemin’s face falls, and you’re not sure why. You think that he’s offended because you never told him about something so huge (and he is, but the two of you have bigger fish to fry at the moment so he decides it best to complain later).

Eyebrows furrowed, you ask, “What’s wrong?”

“Jaehyun is…” he pauses, and your lips part to ask how he knows his name until, “Jaehyun is my roommate.”

If you had the energy, you would sigh. Of course, Jaehyun also happens to move back in town and ultimately transfer back into your college for the second semester. You had to be a criminal in your past life, what else could you have possibly done to deserve something like this?

Taeyong walks over to your table, wearing a discontent frown, “Jaehyun’s here, do you want me to distract him so that you can leave without him noticing?”

“No way the blueberry head knew about this before me.” Ah, there it goes.

Taeyong glares, but he doesn’t say anything, instead locking his eyes on you to catch your response and his face softens when he does.

“Please,” you sigh in relief, “Thanks Tae, you’re a lifesaver.”

Taeyong smiles at the weight of your words, “It’s the least I could do. Now you two get out of here.”

It isn’t something that you need to be told twice, Taeyong goes to distract Jaehyun and you two bolt the fuck out of there. Though even out of sight, Jaehyun isn’t out of mind. In the beginning you knew it was nothing serious, Jaehyun had other girls that he fucked. But the fact that he was cheating on some poor, innocent girl was more then you could handle, and it would be selfish of you to risk getting caught up in that mess.

For a while, you and Jaemin ride in near silence. It’s your car, but he claims you aren’t in the right headspace to drive and you didn’t argue. You don’t feel the best at the moment.

“Is this a bad time to invite you to my roommate’s Summer Break Kick-off party this Friday,” Jaemin asks over the radio, his voice cutting through the SHINee song playing lowly.

“Kinda,” you snort. “Is he coming?”

“Probably, yeah. I mean, he was invited. But my roommate’s other house is pretty big it’s been forever since we last partied.”

You blink. Why does your roommate…

“Don’t question it. I don’t know either.”

You fight the urge to laugh. Instead, you weigh out the pros and cons. Technically, you and Jaemin could always find another place to party if you wanted to so bad, and even if the house was big, there’s still a fair chance of you running into the one man you dread ever seeing again. You aren’t too sure if that’s something that you’re ready to risk right now.

You sigh again, pressing your face against the car window. “I’ll think about it.”

You haven’t stepped foot in a place this expensive-looking since Yeri invited you on that little summer vacation to her stepdad’s beach house (two years ago.)

Jaemin somehow managed to convince you to show up by pinky promising to do a week’s worth of your assignments next semester, and you’d be a fool for turning that offer down. It isn’t clear from the outside, but academically Jaemin is sharp. So now, you’re searching for Jaemin in a sea full of red plastic cups. He was right, the house is humongous, and now you’re really beginning to question why someone with this kind of fortune at their fingertips lives with three presumably broke college students.

At least they’re playing SHINee. That way you can sing along to your favorite boy band while you simultaneously search for your best friend.

It might be harder for him to spot you. You chose to wear something dull, deciding against standing out too much just in case Jaehyun wanted confrontation, so looking for you is like searching for a needle in a haystack. You two could have just spent the night karaoking with Jaemin in your living room just like the good ‘ole days, for heavens sake.

Na Jaemin, when I find you, you groan. He doesn’t answer your calls or texts, and just for this you should make him do your homework for two weeks. Three if you bump into Jaehyun. You stop at an empty spot to catch your breath.

“God, what are these guys’ parents? The CEO’s of Samsung?” you mutter, to yourself.

“Aw, so close.”

Not expecting an actual answer, you jump and turn in the direction of the voice. You find a tall, handsome man smiling at you. His teeth are so white that it looks like he eats Colgate for breakfast.

“Kai, I’m the host of the party,” he grins, yet then his expression falters, “do I know you from somewhere?”

“I was thinking the same thing!” You laugh, analyzing his face. He does look a bit familiar.

You tell him your name, and the way he repeats it once more then blinks a few times concerns you a little. It’s not that you have a bad reputation, but did he know you from something bad?

His eyes widen. “You’re Johnny’s ex-girlfriend.”

That, you are. Back in high school you and Johnny dated for some time, broke up after a while since you drifted apart from one another, but agreed to stay friends so you’re both cool. You’re relieved that’s all, but you still don’t remember where you know Kai from, and you’re almost one-hundred percent sure it isn’t high school. You don’t even think you went two to the same high school.

“That’s me,” you confirm with a nod, “I still don’t know where I remember you from, though.”

If this were a cartoon, Kai would have a thought bubble above his head, and moments later it would transform into a lightbulb, “Are you friend’s with Yeri?” he guesses, and you nod, “she’s my step-sister. She probably told you about me.”

Oh. Well now the dots are connecting. Yeri did in fact tell you about him, mentioning that his family is the one her mom married into when explaining how filthily rich she became—because her brand new step-dad is indeed a CEO.

You make an O with your mouth, “Small world.”

“I know, right?” Kai, or as you know him from Yeri (also why you didn’t recognize him immediately), Jongin, laughs, “Care to dance?”

At that, you frown, “I’d love to, but I should really find Jaemin. He’s my best friend and we’re supposed to be spending time together because he just moved back in town recently.”

Kai looks a little sad by the rejection but handles it well, nodding in understanding, “Good luck. Last time I saw him he was over there,” he points, “losing a drinking game.”

That could mean nothing good. That meant wherever he was, Jaemin was more than likely going to be shitfaced by the end of the night. You sigh internally, almost wishing he’d go back to being the shy and introverted boy you knew in high school.

You met Jaemin in your sophomore year, at a party his friends forced him to go to, and you had a couple of mutual friends, but until then you two were nothing more than strangers. Speaking of which, that’s how you bonded, even though it was a fight getting him to say more than five words at a time. You were sure your friends Sicheng and Yuta had a thing for each other, whereas he hadn’t suspected a thing. So you made a bet, and only a couple minutes later, they were found making out against a wall. He owed you 50 bucks.

When Jaemin is still no where to be find, you’re ready to cave in to defeat. You feel like you’re in a maze, walking around in circles and it shows in the ache in your feet. You’re about to give up and turn around, until you walk into something, or someone, and all audible to you is the sound of splashing before someone yells shit, I’m sorry!

Oh, you’ll make sure they’re sorry. You’re not sure what you should focus on. How your top is now soaked, or how familiar their voice is. Until you look back up and see a walking, breathing and unfortunately talking, nightmare.

He calls out your name.

Like before, you turn and walk away.

He says it again, louder, and follows you.

“I don’t want to talk to you, Jaehyun.”

Still, he tails behind you like a lost puppy, despite you obviously trying to stay far, far away, “Can’t you hear me out? It’s been two years.”

“Two very peaceful years,” you stop dead in your tracks and finally turn to face him. It hurts you to look at his face, because the memories wash over you like waves, yet you do it anyways. You want to show him that you’re strong without him, not weakness and vulnerability, “and I told you two years ago that I want nothing to do with you.”

Jaehyun’s no good for you, you know that. You know that all he’s ever wanted to do is get inside your pants, that he’s never cared for you. So why are you tempted to hear him out?

No, you refuse, you will not let nostalgia win you over. That’s all it is. You miss what you had, but you don’t know if you miss him as a person.

“At least let me help you dry your shirt, it’s my fault that it’s ruined,” he tries again, but you’re hell-bent on making him feel as miserable as he did you.

“No.”

“Y/n—”

“No means no, Jaehyun,” another voice cuts in, and while it isn’t the one you’ve been looking for, you’re thankful nonetheless. Beside you stands Kai, tall, angry, and intimidating, “you gonna make her tell you to fuck off?”

Jaehyun glances at you, and you see the emotion in his eyes, but you don’t fall for them. Not anymore. He’s already caused your heart to feel enough pain that you can’t bother to try and carry the burden that is his own. So he gives up and walks off, finally leaving you alone.

And you let out an exhausted breath.

“Show’s over, mind your business,” Kai tells the audience you hadn’t even known formed, and not willing to risk going against him, everyone returns to their previous activity. He looks at you, and all the anger is washed with concern. “You okay?”

Are you okay? You don’t know anymore. Nostalgia is kicking your ass, and though you try not to think about him, you can’t help but reminisce.

“Yeah,” you say, but you’re not too sure. “Thanks. A lot.”

Kai shrugs, “No biggie. Do you think you and Yeri match sizes? You can use the bathroom in my bedroom to change because no one’s dumb enough to go in there.”

You sigh in relief. Chivalry isn’t dead. “Yes. Thank you.”

Kai leads you upstairs to Yeri’s room, or at least the one she stays in when she’s here, and let’s you choose a shirt. It isn’t an easy decision with Yeri being the epitome of fashion, but you pick quickly to spare Kai’s time, even though he tells you that he doesn’t mind. He then takes you to the bathroom in his room because according to him, Yeri’s one is under repair.

Even though Kai is guarding the door with his life and you know he wouldn’t just barge in there without your say-so, you lock the door. You meet your gaze in the mirror, eyeing yourself closely. Everyone is insecure sometimes, but after things ended between you and Jaehyun, you were extremely self-conscious for months.

To anyone who had never been in your shoes, it might’ve made more sense than anything for you to feel better about yourself knowing that even though Jaehyun had a girl, he kept coming back to you. Yet who’s to say you were the only one? To this day, you’re still convinced that the only reason he keeps trying to win you back is because him losing you plus you being the one to end it put a major dent in his ego.

You hate that he had that kind of power over you, to the point where he made you hate yourself. You hate that a man like him made you cry so many goddamn tears and now he expects you to dry his own.

Reminding yourself that Kai is waiting, you tear your gaze from your own before tears have the chance to spill, and wipe yourself dry so that you can put on your - or Yeri’s - shirt. Now that you think about it, it’s too cute to return. You might take it. She’s too rich to notice, and even if she does, she’s still rich. She can easily replace it.

Kai greets you with a smile as you step back inside his room, and you find yourself smiling back at him. He’s been treating you so kindly this whole time, and now that you think about it, you’ve never heard a single bad thing about the man. Yeri clearly doesn’t mention him very often, but it’s never been anything bad when she does, and even when Jaemin was telling you about his roommates, he described Kai as “the funny one that called his mom a lot.”

“Ready to join the party?”

And then you frown. “I don’t know.”

Kai quirks a brow, “Well don’t tell me you look this good just to not show yourself off.”

Amused, you scoff. Kai’s been smooth from the beginning, yet now he’s unabashedly flirting with you. “Are you flirting with me, Kim Jongin?”

Confusion spells itself out on his face. You have never once said his name tonight, and the one time you do, it’s his government. “How do you know my name?”

“Yeri,” you shrug, “but if you want me to just call you Kai then I understand.”

“Well, usually I reserve my real name for my close friends and family,” he grins, and God he looks devilishly handsome when he does, “but it sounds so nice on your tongue that I’ll make an exception.”

It’s painfully obvious that you don’t know how to react, eyes a little round and your lips parting, yet nothing coming from in between. It makes Jongin laugh.

“And yes, I was flirting with you,” he winks, “but anyways, if you really don’t wanna go back out there, which is totally fine, we can just chill in here. You seem like a nice person, and I’d like to get to know you.”

“Get to know me?” You quip, finding enough balance to play into his game after being knocked down by his charm briefly, “or my body?”

He arches a brow in amusement. “That feels like a trick question.”

You shrug. “Be honest. I might feel the same way.”

Maybe it’s a good thing that tonight didn’t go as planned. Kai’s had you since the moment he introduced himself, and it seems every five minutes he gets better.

“Well, I don’t see why I can’t multitask,” He purrs, taking your words as an invitation. An invitation that he was accepting.

You giggle. He eyes you gently, noticing the way you slowly inch closer to him, “I like you.”

It’s an initiation, turning the keys and putting the car in drive, and you want to see if Jongin will take the wheel. And it seems that to your fortune, he does.

“Guess it’s a good thing I like you, too.” Jongin chuckles, and he’s so close. You can feel his breath on your skin, tickling your neck, and it makes something in you crawl with arousal.

And the gap between you closes.

You already liked Kai last night, but you definitely like him this morning.

You woke up to the smell of pancakes and bacon, and not just any kind of pancakes, but chocolate chip pancakes, your favorite. If anything can make you like someone, it’s chocolate chip pancakes.

“How’d you know chocolate chip was my fave?” you giggle, not expecting a serious response, but after the whole scenario with him yesterday, you should have already known he would have one.

“Yerim’s told me about you, too, you know,” Jongin replies, “It wasn’t even too long ago, it was winter break. We were all staying at my dad’s house for a couple of days, and she invited you over one morning. Everyone was gone but me and her when I went downstairs, and I saw her making chocolate chip pancakes. It blew me, because she’s an avid hater of chocolate. Then she told me they were for her best friend, because you love them, and after last night I learned that the best friend in question happened to be you.”

You and Jongin learned a lot about one another last evening. After you had sex, you didn’t expect to hit it off like you did, yet you spent a great deal of the night talking on his silk sheets. For starters, he’s a wonderful man. Funny, polite, respectful, thoughtful, caring, and he has an amazing personality. The sole flaw you could find in him was that he likes Hawaiian pizza. What kind of sick person enjoys Hawaiian pizza?

And you fell asleep in his arms. It was perfect, almost too good to be true. You considered the possibility of a relationship with him, you enjoyed his company and he was shameless to admit that he enjoyed yours. And yet still, you couldn’t help but think of Jaehyun.

The way he had also made you feel the same way, all those years ago. How he never fucked you and then shoved you away, but he talked to you until the sun came up, or spooned you to sleep. It was ridiculous, and you can’t believe that one encounter with Jaehyun had you acting like a teenager in love for the first time again. Not to mention the encounter in question was horrible. Jaehyun isn’t good for you, but for some reason your heart seems to still want him.

“If you want know so bad, just ask.”

“What?” Kai blinks, unaware that you’ve noticed the way he looks at you, not just now but ever since that encounter with Jaehyun. The longing in his eyes to say something, yet he resisted.

“I know you’re curious about me and Jaehyun,” truth be told, it isn’t just for him, but for you. Maybe if you remind yourself of what Jaehyun’s done to you, hear it aloud, you’ll snap out of it and shake this weird feeling. “So go ahead. Ask.”

Jongin’s surprised at how well you read him, and you can only hope that he doesn’t read you just as well.

“I figured you didn’t want to talk about it, and I didn’t want to overstep my boundaries.” How utterly Kai of him. And honestly, he’s right. You don’t want to, but at this point it’s a need.

“It’s okay,” you assure.

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

“If you don’t want to talk about it, then that’s okay, you know. I understa—”

“Kim Jongin,” you say, and he pauses, a part of being because he still hasn’t gotten used to you calling him by his government name, yet he loves it when you do, “I am not about to beg you to ask me. I promise you, it’s alright.”

Jongin hesitates, but gives in reluctantly, “Okay, so… what happened for Jaehyun to be so intent on talking to you last night? Break-up?”

“Not really,” you say, trying to keep your voice level and flat. You weren’t the girl Jaehyun was in a relationship with, “It wasn’t a romantic relationship. Just sex, no strings attached.”

Jongin nods, “Ah, so a fling?”

“Mm-hm. I met him when Yeri invited her best friends to your dad’s beach house for a fun summer vacation during break. We hit it off well and it wasn’t much longer that he had me in his sheets. It really was fun, so we agreed to keep fucking around. And then some months later, I found out he had a girlfriend the whole time.”

He makes an understanding face, familiar with Yeri’s Pal-Cations (as she likes to call them.)

“Yerim didn’t tell you he was dating someone?”

“No one knew about us. He wanted to keep things secret,” you chuckle softly, “and that’s when I found out why.”

Silence falls over Jongin, and you sit there and let him ponder. Being able to say it all like this makes it seem so simple, and perhaps it should be. Jaehyun fucked up, and you owe him nothing. If he broke up with his girlfriend, maybe things would have been different, but he didn’t and that’s why he should leave you alone.

“Do you think he’s changed?” You shouldn’t ask. It doesn’t matter what Kai thinks, he doesn’t know Jaehyun like you do and he hasn’t known him for nearly as long. His opinion doesn’t matter.

Kai blinks. “I mean, you know what they say. Once a cheater, always a cheater.”

“But I’m asking for your opinion.”

You’ve never seen Kai so speechless. He’s always had something on the tip of his tongue, always. That’s when you consider that you’re probably dumping a shit ton of unwarranted info on him, especially since you had to practically coerce him into even asking you about Jaehyun. Before you have the chance to apologize, he answers.

“I don’t know him nearly as well as you probably do, but from what I’ve seen in the past 2 weeks, he’s nothing like some stupid, immature fuck boy. He carries himself well, cracks his jokes but he’s respectful and doesn’t push his limits, and I’ve never seen him with a girl,” Jongin says. “Come to think of it, he’s single. The boys discussed our dating situations and relationship statuses just so that we wouldn’t be surprised if we got up in the middle of the night and saw some stranger. Said he was single and wasn’t looking for sex.”

And you sigh in defeat, because the only thing that’s changed about Jaehyun according to that description is that he’s apparently single now and isn’t looking for sex.

Or maybe he was some stupid, immature fuckboy. You don’t know. And ever since you found out about her, you haven’t been sure if you’ve ever known him like you thought you did. You haven’t been sure about anything.

“Do you want him back?”

The questions catchs you off-guard. It isn’t exactly new, but you’ve never had anyone ask you this other than yourself. It’s all that you can think about. Do you really want him back? Or do you just miss what you had? What if it’s both?

“I don’t know,” you answer. And trust, you’ve been thinking about it since that whole ordeal at the café Monday. Even if you do, you shouldn’t. You don’t know Jaehyun’s motive, and there are plenty of other guys that can provide you everything he was giving you. One is literally looking you dead in the eye. He’s replaceable, you tell yourself. You don’t need him.

But that sure as hell has nothing to do with you wanting him.

“You don’t know?” Kai lifts his brow, “Or are you simply in denial?”

You feel like he’s your therapist, and the thought almost makes you laugh. Everything reminds you of Jaehyun. How sometimes, you’d play therapist for each other after you had sex, either directly afterwards or in the morning like now. It was so much more than sex, you think. To you, anyways. And that’s likely how you caught feelings.

Oh, dear god.

Even after two years, maybe those feelings you had for him still linger.

“I realized something,” you really don’t have to say anything, it’s written all over your face.

Jongin makes the conclusion, “You want him.”

Slowly, you nod. You think that you shouldn’t, but you do, and Jongin was right about you being in denial. You guess he really does read you just as well as you do him.

“I’m not gonna sit here and tell you what you should or shouldn’t do because it’s your choice to make at the end of the day, but let’s take everything into account,” Jongin starts, voice sterner than it’s been all morning, “I’m not saying age is an excuse, but he was eighteen. All eighteen-year-old boys are stupid. Take it from someone who’s been there. But he’s twenty-one now, and it’s been years. That’s plenty enough time for him to grow and change.”

You nod along. That’s true, and while you could never be too careful because who’s to say he’s changed, who’s to say he hasn’t?

Kai adds, “If you want to take the risk, take it. If you don’t, then don’t. He made an inexcusable mistake. But he’s human, and all humans make mistakes. You dont owe him anything, especially not forgiveness, but be a little open-minded.”

The decision is yours. You can hear Jaehyun out and try to salvage your relationship, or you can continue to shut him out. You don’t owe him a second chance, but god, you must admit that you’ve always secretly longed to give him one, just so that you could go back to what you had.

Whenever you contemplate giving him a second chance, you think about her. You try to put yourself in her shoes, wondering how she must’ve felt, if she ever knew that the man she loved was fucking around with another woman. Maybe that’s how they broke up. Days ago, the thought would have made you run further and further away from him. But now, it’s almost like you’re rooted in place, bumping into dead-ends.

If you were her, you’d be unforgiving. But you’re not her, you never will be her, and that makes you want to be a little more selfish.

That makes you want him.

“Thanks, Kai,” you say, truly grateful to have his unbiased opinion. Usually you wouldn’t trust people you met less than twenty-four hours ago with your personal business, but all the shit you and Kai exchanged last night makes you willing to permit an exception. And then, you feel bad because even after the kind things he’s done for you since last night, he’s still sitting here advising you on your complicated you-problems. “And I’m so sorry for dumping all my problems on you, you’ve been so sweet and the least I could do—”

“Hey, no worries. If you ever need to talk, I’m here,” Kai interjects, “and if you want me to do a bit of snooping around…”

You shake your head. “No way. You’ve already done enough for me, and I don’t want you to get caught up in my drama. I can handle it.”

“Sure, you can. But I don’t want a girl like you to wind up heartbroken, especially over a possible jackass, and at very least you should see if you can trust him before you, well, trust him,” As though he can sense you about to object, he adds, “No buts. I’m going to keep a few tabs on him and alert you if there’s anything suspicious.”

You sigh, and don’t argue because it’s obvious he isn’t changing his mind. You’re grateful.

You smile. “Thank you.”

“Of course. And if he breaks your heart, I’m here.”

You scoff, “Flirting with me again, Kim Jongin?”

“Oh, baby,” he growls, “Keep saying my name like that and I’ll make you forget he ever existed.”

Ten minutes ago, that would have been tempting. But now you know what you want, and you’re determined to have it.

Yeri thinks it’s a bad idea.

Taeyong thinks it’s terrible idea.

Jaemin thinks you’ve had better ideas, but he’s willing to cooperate nonetheless.

“I don’t get it,” Taeyong shakes his head, “That guy broke your heart.”

“He wasn’t trying to,” you mutter.

“And he still did, that’s the crazy part.”

“It was two years ago. To be fair, all of us were stupid at eighteen.”

“Not all of us were cheating on our partners with a girl we met on summer break, though,” Taeyong quips, incredulous that he’s even having this discussion with you. You’ve always been on the same page, what changed?

You groan, “God, Taeyong. Sure, he cheated. Duh, he was in the wrong. But it wasn’t me that he cheated on and it’s not like we were ever in a relationship. He couldn’t have known how I felt about him when I did everything in my power to hide my feelings. And what if he’s changed?”

“And what if he hasn’t?” Taeyong retorts quickly.

The silence in the room is deadly. Taeyong can’t believe that he’s having to talk some sense into you, all while your other two friends sit quietly observing your argument. Is he the only one thinking around here? Why aren’t they helping?

Then, Yeri speaks up from the other side of the room, “Instead of arguing, let’s just put Jaehyun to the test.”

“And how do you plan on going about that?” Taeyong grumbles.

“Letting her talk to him, dimwit, how else?” Yeri rolls her eyes, “I know that you probably think that allowing him within a ten-foot radius of her is going to break her heart, but you’re greatly underestimating my best friend’s strength. She isn’t stupid, she can identify red flags.”

“Ease up on the fighting words,” Jaemin chuckles, “but I dunno, Yeri’s right. The only way she’ll know if he’s changed is to see for herself. If she notices anything odd, she can give him the boot. It’s not rocket science.”

You glance at Taeyong. Truthfully, you don’t need his permission, and both of you know that. But it would be nice to feel validated by your best friends, especially the overprotective one.

Taeyong glances back at you, and his expression softens. He’s always had a soft spot for you, and it’s hard to tell you no. Plus, he doesn’t want to be the token villain when everyone else is telling you to go for it. To chase what you want.

And in all honesty, Taeyong wishes he could chase what he wants. But the last thing he is is selfish, so maybe now is the time he lets you go.

Finally, he groans, “Alright, fine. Whatever. Talk to Jaehyun, see if he’s really ready to commit. But if this guy breaks your heart, I’m going to quote-unquote accidentally spill the hottest coffee on his face, just to give him a taste of the fire that is hell, where he will burn for eternity.”

Jaemin shivers, having flashbacks to the first time he spoke to Taeyong, “You love a good coffee threat, don’t you? So many fighting words.”

Taeyong doesn’t reply, just glares at Jaemin sharply.

“Hostile, but I’m with him,” Yeri nods, “Mark my words, that man will die a slow, painful death if he makes one more mistake.”

“Yep!” Jaemin agrees, “Don’t worry, babes. We got your back.”

At that, you smile. Your friends are on your side. Now, here comes the real trouble.

Mustering the ability to talk to Jaehyun.

Fortunately, Yerim’s annual Pal-Cation was right around the corner, and would extend until the end of the week.

Last year, Jaehyun didn’t attend.

Correction: he wasn’t invited.

Yeri and Jaehyun haven’t been on amazing terms since she became aware of everything, which put a dent in their relationship. This year, she’s invited him in favor of playing Cupid.

You’re a little nervous, anxious about being in the same space as Jaehyun for more than three minutes after all these years. You’re scared and you’re not sure of what, because if Jaehyun’s really as changed as he implies he is, the result should be predictable.

Then again, you don’t really know Jaehyun’s reason for wanting to talk to you, and that makes you all the more panicked. Of course, he wants you to hear him out, but what does he want to come out of that? A second chance? At what?To you, your relationship was so much more than sex. But what if it wasn’t to him? What if he just wants to get inside your pants?

“Girl, please,” Jaemin scoffs, crashing against your hotel bed like he owns the place. He’s in comfortable awe, and probably wouldn’t think twice if someone told him the beds were made out of marshmallows, “you were defending his life choices like yesterday—god damn, these beds are soft—and now you’re having second thoughts? Since when do you back down from things?”

You throw a pillow at him, “I was not defending him!”

“I talked to him earlier, when he asked me if I was sure about wanting him here,” Yeri states, sitting on the seat in front of the mirror. “Told him that there’s no way in hell he’d be here right now if I didn’t want him to be. He laughed and promised me he wouldn’t do anything stupid, and I told him know, because if he does do something stupid it’s off with his motherfuckin’ head.”

Jaemin smiles, satisfied, “Yeah, that should do it. I’d be scared half to death, you could probably pay someone to kill him and no one would suspect a thing.”

“Enough about killing him,” you grimace, “I’m just, I dunno, nervous, I guess. What if he just wants to get in my pants?”

“Guess you better go found out, and tonight is the perfect opportunity. I reserved the pool, so we have the entire area to ourselves until midnight.”

“Yeah, and that wouldn’t be too bad anyways. When was the last time you got laid?” Jaemin adds.

You sneer and flip him off, “For your information, I got laid at that party Friday night when you left me for dead to go get drunk. And that’s why your ass was hungover. And Yeri, you never told me that your step-brother was so fucking hot.”

Yeri exclaims, “You slept with Jongin?”

“You slept with her brother?”

And that’s where you conclude that you’ve overshared, and it’s time for everyone to have some time to themselves, “Alright, everybody out,” you push and pull them both out, until they’re standing outside your door, “I’ll see you guys tonight.”

Then you shut the door, and lie on your bed, sighing with comfort. Jaemin’s right, the beds really are comfortable. You’re feeling drowsy already and decide to rest your eyes. There’s hours until it’s Pool Time.

Pool Time comes faster than you wished.

You’re antsy, but Yeri has SHINee’s Punch Drunk Love playing, so you feel more at ease. It also serves as a reminder that you’re going to need a drink or two to get through the night.

It doesn’t help that you had a dream about Jaehyun while you were trying to rest your eyes, about the night when you first you met him. You were at Yeri’s step-father’s beach house, and the dream was specifically when you made out in the middle of the pool. I’ll never let you drown, baby. You shake the memory away.

You glance around, and see everyone’s here. Yeri’s talking to her friend Mark who obviously has a crush on her, Jaemin’s engaging in conversation with Taeyong who for once doesn’t look like he wants to rip Jaemin’s head off, Yeri’s other friends are playing in the pool, and—Jaehyun.

Jaehyun’s seated at the bar, looking dead at you, which is exactly where you need to be but your lunch and your stomach seem to not be getting along suddenly. You tear your gaze, and glance back at Yeri. You need her help, one last push or words of encouragement, but you’re not selfish enough to interrupt Mark’s attempts at flirting with your friend and getting some.

Well fuck, you groan. You’re all alone this time, and deciding you look stupid standing there by yourself, you march to the bar and hoist yourself on the stool beside Jaehyun, ignoring the increasing speed of your heartbeat. It doesn’t help that this place only has two barstools.

“What can I get you, sweetheart?” The bartender asks you. She’s pretty, got long dark hair and a nice face. You wonder if Jaehyun flirting with her is the reason she’s been smiling so hard since before you sat down, trying to stifle a giggle.

And you frown at your own thoughts. Leave it to you to automatically assume the worst.

“No idea. Suprise me,” you sigh, and with a nod she gets to work.

It’s difficult, more like impossible to ignore Jaehyun’s presence beside you. He isn’t saying anything, isn’t doing anything as far as you can tell without looking at him, but the knowledge that he’s there has you on your toes.

The bartender brings back your drink, tells you to enjoy and you say thank you before having a taste. You need this before you dare say a word to him.

And then he dare speaks, “Hi.”

You can feel your heart racing and you don’t know why, but you do know that you don’t like it. There’s no reason to feel like this, you heard Jaehyun talk at the party. You somehow manage to chirp back quietly, “Hi.”

“Aren’t you gonna look at me?”

It feels like he’s challenging you, almost to say you’re too much of a pussy to look him dead in the face, and you know you’re more than likely making that up but Jaehyun’s the first person to know that you’re last person to back down from a challenge, so you do turn to look at him.

It takes everything in you to stay rational when you do. You get the chance to look at him, to really look at him, and you’re taken aback by his features. He looks the same, but different all at once, obviously a little older.

Beside you is no longer the teenage boy with the cute, high-pitched voice, but a man with a deep and matured sound to his voice. He’s smiling a little wildly at you. It’s the first time you’ve seen him smile in years.

You take a sip from your drink so that you don’t smile back and say, “I’m looking.”

“See something you like?”

“Nope,” you lie, as though you weren’t obvious checking him out seconds ago, “just you.”

“Aww, don’t be like that,” Jaehyun grins playfully, “smile a little, won’t you?”

“Let’s cut to the chase, Jaehyun,” you change the subject. You refuse to let his little games work on you. “Didn’t you want me to hear you out? Hop to it or I’m leaving.”

He blinks. “Here?”

Well no one can hear you other than the bartender, but it’s a personal issue that deserves the utmost privacy and it’s not like you’re willing to share your personal business with a stranger, so you agree to walk around the pool with him. Close enough so that you’re not bumping into walls, distant enough to not be overheard.

You glance at him, “So?”

Jaehyun sighs, “Rather than defending myself, I think I should apologize. For not telIing you I was in a relationship, for risking dragging you into drama, it was selfish. I was selfish.”

It was selfish. He couldn’t have been thinking of your feelings, or even her feelings.

“There’s no excuse for what I did, and I can’t imagine how belittled it made you feel. You don’t have to forgive me, and I know you’re probably gonna hate me forever for this and I don’t blame you. But I want you to know that I’m sorry,” he gives you those emotional eyes, the same dejected gleam in them, “Sincerely. And if there’s anything I can do to make it up to you…”

“Tell me why,” you want the answers that you’ve been searching for all these years. Not exactly closure, but you don’t want to live in doubt, wondering maybe you were never enough, and that’s why you were always the side piece.

“Why I did it?”

You nod, and he’s silent for a moment.

“I mean, I don’t know. I don’t know why eighteen-year-old me did the shit I did, but I know that I did it and I can’t take it back. I’ve looked back so many times and I still can’t fathom…” Jaehyun trails off, then starts shaking his head, “you know what? Maybe I do know why.”

Don’t cry, you tell yourself. You’re stronger than this. You’re blinking back tears, attempting to keep your voice level as you whisper, “Why then, Jaehyun?”

“It’s not the shocking, life-changing reason I always thought it would be,” he chuckles sadly, “it’s because I was stupid. And careless. I wasn’t thinking, but at the same time I thought I had the world at my feet, and I guess I did but then I…” Jaehyun stops to take a breath after he realizes he’s rambling. “But then I lost you. And that’s when I realized that this, the lying, the cheating, the going behind your backs—it was stupid.”

“It was stupid,” you agree, and he laughs a little more. “But let me ask you one more thing…” you say. He doesn’t reply, but his eyes tell you to go ahead. “Did you love her?” Or did you love me?

Jaehyun nods lazily. “At one point.”

You bite your lip, unsatisfied.

“Did you love me?”

That catches him off-guard. You almost expect him to stop walking the way he’s frozen, and you feel your stomach churning in regret.

“Nevermind, forget I asked that—”

“When you first left, I was unaffected,” Jaehyun interjects. “Like I said, I thought I had the world at my feet, so I thought you were replaceable. I tried replacing you. But it wasn’t the same, no matter how many times I tried, it was never, ever the same,” his eyes muse at you, “No one looked at me the way you did, no one talked to me all night and made me laugh like you did, no one ran circles through my mind like you, no one was like you. So I knew I needed you back, but by the time I realized you were already gone. And that’s when I knew I had fucked up.”

He adds, “So, yeah. I did love you. Maybe it was at the wrong time, maybe it was too late for me to love you, maybe I wasn’t supposed to, but I did and I don’t think I’ve ever stopped.”

Jaehyun’s thumb runs over your eyes, wiping a string of tears that you hadn’t even know you cried. He doesn’t say anything about it, just pulls you closer to his chest.

“What about you?” He asks.

“What about me?”

“Did you love me?”

Now it’s your turn to freeze, and then you almost laugh. Of course, you loved him. You were in love with him. Hopelessly.

“Can I be honest?”

Jaehyun nods. “Mm-hm. That’s what this is all about, right?”

You exhale a sharp breath, preparing to tell one of your deepest, darkest secrets to the one person that was never supposed to know, “When I told you the reason I wanted to end things was because of you cheating on her, that wasn’t the whole truth. It was part of it, and though I’m no homewrecker, there’s another reason. I was in love with you—hopelessly, helplessly, utterly—and I couldn’t stand the thought that you never felt the same, that I was just a plaything to you.”

“Y/n—”

“Let me finish,” you order, “I left to take care of me. I thought it would have been disrespectful towards myself to stay in that position, when from my understanding, I loved you yet you loved her,” you feel another trail of tears coming, and wipe them away before they have the chance to spill. “At that moment, when I found out you already had someone, I felt like I didn’t know you anymore. I thought that maybe you never really cared, and I was the only one that felt it.”

It, the love. The spark. The connection. The butterflies in your stomach when he held you close, or called you cute pet names. The emotion whenever he was deep inside you.

“It felt like I had given my heart to a stranger,” you laugh humorlessly, “because for all I knew, who’s to say I was the only one you were fucking behind her back? I felt so, so stupid. Like I was never enough. And when I first saw your face again after all these years, all of that hurt came back. But at the same time,” you look him in his eyes, “all my feelings for you came back, too.”

It’s silent for a moment, but it isn’t awkward. You’ve just confessed your feelings for one another, not only now, but for the you of two years ago. For the you of eighteen who never thought you’d ever have this chance.

And you can’t believe Jaehyun’s actually had feelings for you, too. It always seemed like some fairytale thing, but hearing one another out like responsible adults instead of immature teens changes things.

“Wow,” Jaehyun whispers in surprise, “Wow. I was such a fool. I made a simple thing so fucking complicated. Imagine where we’d be if I would have just broken up with her and realized my feelings sooner.”

Together. You’d be together, as one.

“Could’ve, would’ve, should’ve, didn’t,” you say lightheartedly, “There’s no use in worrying about that. You’ve apologized. And I forgive you.”

“You forgive me?” Jaehyun gawks. “Why? I thought you’d hate me forever or something.”

“I kinda still hate the you of two years ago, he’s an asshole,” you giggle, “but the you standing next to me right now, today, is a changed man who knows his mistake and won’t do that shit ever a-fucking-gain. Or else.”

Jaehyun snorts. “Of course not. I wouldn’t dare.”

You smile, “Good.”

“Good. So do we address our relationship too, or…”

“Later, please,” you groan. “Come sit by the water with me.”

Jaehyun agrees, and so now you’re sitting at the edge of the pool, your head resting on his shoulder.

“Is SHINee still your favorite band?” He asks.

“Yeah,” you mumble, heart warming at the fact that he even still remembers that.

Then he teases, “Do you still swoon over Lee Taemin?”

You give him a very, very icy glare, “Shut up. I’ll push you into the pool right now.”

“You wouldn’t,” Jaehyun challenges.

Wrong move, you smirk. You love a challenge.

So in one swift movement, you do push him into the pool, and the sound of him yelling and the water splashing is like music to your ears. You giggle, watching as he comes back up, hair heavy and soaked as it sticks to him like a second skin. You also take notice of his white t-shirt, or his abs through the soaked cotton. Six pack. Toned. Stupid dumb crazy hot. Damn, sometimes you forget why you kept coming back to him.

He sneers, unamused. “Not funny.”

“It’s a little funny,” you disagree with a smile.

“Oh yeah?” he says, “Look, Lee Taemin!”

You turn without fully processing his statement yet, “Wha—agh!”

In an even swifter motion, Jaehyun’s pulled your ankles, and now a distracted you falls into the pool with a splash. Not to mention, your bikini cover-up is still on. This, unfortunately, is karma. Inconvenience aside, you’re getting deja vu, a distant memory seeping back into your mind.

You whine, “Not fair.”

“It’s a little fair,” he mocks, and you can’t help but roll your eyes.

“You’re lucky I know how to swim,” you wringe out your hair, “You would have had an lawsuit against you if I didn’t.”

You wonder if he’s taken the hint, if he’s gonna say it. You remember that exact moment, being so close to his face and feeling so warm. I’d never let you drown, baby.

And like a rehearsed line, he says perfectly, “I’d never let you drown, baby.”

“You remember.” Your tone is like a question, but it’s a statement.

“I remember a lot of things about you,” Jaehyun states, and perfectly timed, the current song fades into your all-time personal favorite—SHINee’s 1 of 1. “For instance, is this still your favorite SHINee song?”

One glance in Yeri’s direction confirms your suspicion that this is all her doing, as you see her giggling at you, phone in hand. It was already suspicious of her to play SHINee when she’s an Ariana Grande girl, but now you definitely see her her crystal-clear intentions.

“Yeah,” you mutter, but as you turn back around you notice he’s definitely close enough to hear you. Your noses are almost touching, and you can feel your heart racing. You feel like a teenager in love all over again, blood pumping, your heart beating in your ears. Deja vu.

Jaehyun must be feeling it too, because he asks, “Can I kiss you?”

Yet again, you blush. “Sure.”

And on cue, his lips are against yours. Jaehyun’s still an amazing kisser, he feels gentle yet he’s so fierce, gripping your waist as your fingers tangle in his hair. You know for a fact he’d be even rougher if you weren’t inside of a pool.

His lips feel better than you remember, and then he bites your lip. You moan, lips parting and he darts his tongue in your mouth. You can taste his drink on his tongue, faint remnants of whatever he had in his cup.

Fuck, you forgot how high kissing him makes you feel. It’s like an addictive drug, and you can feel nothing but your heartbeat and his lips on yours. You don’t want him to stop.

And then, to your misfortune, he does stop. You whimper, not really taking notice of how out of breath you are as you’re overcome with greed.

“Why’d you stop?” You frown.

“You need to breathe, babe. You wanna almost drown in the pool like Taeyong?” He laughs.

Speaking of Taeyong, you check on him with your eyes. To your surprise, he’s still talking and laughing with Jaemin, the pair obviously hitting it off and super into one another. It makes you smile. That boy’s had a huge crush on you that you both know you can’t reciprocate for years, and it’s time he lets you go.

“Hello… Earth to y/n? You look like the cute puppy eyes emoji.”

Your eyes snap at Jaehyun, “Shut up,” you reply, “And kiss me.”

“Bossy,” Jaehyun teases, but he must like that about you, because moments later he’s kissing you again, even more passionately than before.

“Oh, c’mon!”

Yeri giggles, “Sorry, y/n. The majority rules!”

For the second day of your California vacation, Yeri’s decided to take everyone to an amusement park an hour out from the hotel. You asked her why she didn’t do Disney Land this year, but she said it was reserved for her first Bae-Cation.

You roll your eyes. What happened to chicks over dicks?

The point is, you wanted to separate into groups, considering it would be easier to keep up with everyone. However, everyone else wanted to do pairs, arguing that there was more freedom and it’d be easier to come towards a mutual decision instead of arguing over what to ride.

So everyone grabs their partners, and you’re shocked when you see Jaemin and Taeyong step beside one another. You’re incredulous. Jaemin’s just been abandoning you left and right ever since he came back.

“You two in love or some shit now?” You fold your arms, eyes pointing at them accusingly. “What happened to those coffee threats, Yong? I thought you said Jaem was annoying. And Jaemin? You said he was scary!”

Jaemin shrugs coolly. “He was, but then I realized something. Taeyong’s like an egg, he has a hard shell—” Taeyong glares, “—nevermind, he doesn’t like that comparison very much. Taeyong’s like a smore, hard on the outside yet warm and soft on the inside. Oh, and very deli—ow!”

Jaemin holds his stomach dramatically, looking at Taeyong who stands with a satisfied grin on his face. Perhaps, Taeyong still is a little scary.

“Jaem! Yong!”

“Ooh, that reminds me,” Jaemin eyes twinkle, “I think our ship name should be Jaeyong.”

Taeyong disagrees, “No way. It should be Taemin.”

“First of all, you two will never be Taemin,” you interject with a scowl. “Anyways, you two figure that out. I’ll go be with my partner.”

And you stomp away to spot Jaehyun waiting for you with a cheeky grin. You’re optionless, you suppose. Yeri’s with Mark again, Taeyong and Jaemin are obviously a thing now, Seulgi’s with Winter and Jennie’s with Nayeon.

It’s not even like last night ended poorly. Last night couldn’t have been better, you spent your time making out and drinking with Jaehyun in the pool until midnight. It was too good to be true, you felt like Cinderella, having to slip back into her normal life by the time the clock struck twelve.

Now though, you have to be alone with Jaehyun. Okay technically, you’ll be surrounded by hundreds of people, and depending on where you go your friends may or may not be accompanying you, though still. It isn’t that you don’t trust him, but isn’t it natural to feel uneasy?

Jaehyun calls, “C’mon, princess! Let’s go get hotdogs. I���m hungry.”

“We ate at the hotel,” you snort.

“So? That was an hour ago. Plus the time it took for us to get through that crazy ass line. If you’re not hungry, I’ll buy you a lemonade or something.”

A lemonade does sound good, you ponder. It’s summertime, and no amount of sunglasses and mosquito-repellent sunscreen is going to help you beat this heat. It’s ninety-something degrees.

“Fine,” you give in, and an eternity later (curse these never-ending lines) you’re sitting down at a bench, you sipping on your humongous cup of lemonade and Jaehyun eating a hotdog.

To be honest, you really didn’t need the largest size that they had. You were just testing his reaction for the fun of it, expecting to have a giggle or two, but he totally surprised you, buying it and insisting you should have it even after you told him that you were just playing.

The Jaehyun you knew three years ago was many things, and rich was not one of them.

“Let’s talk,” he says after discarding his hotdog in the bin. Oh of course, Jaehyun’s brain cannot function when he’s running low on food.

Playing dumb, you ask, “About what?”

“Us,” he answers simply.

“In the middle of an amusement park?”

“It’s important,” Jaehyun grins, “You don’t trust me.”

Perplexity is written all over your face. You trust Jaehyun on the basic level, you feel safe around him and in his embrace. But you’re not sure if you trust him with your heart just yet, and after everything he did, you have the right to be scared.

“And I understand why. I hurt you once, you’re scared I might do it again. So let’s start over,” he concludes, and you blink. “From scratch. Past aside. I want you to get to know me, and I wanna get to know you. I’m sure there’s plenty of things I don’t know about you now.”

I mean, you know the gist. You didn’t say that aloud, of course. Through a discussion last night, he still knows your favorite color and your undying love for pie and SHINee, especially Taemin, your birthday, your mom’s birthday, even your dog’s birthday—okay, maybe he knows too much. Or you overshared. Who knows.

And you still remember a lot of facts about him, but at the same time, there’s still so much you don’t know about one another.

“Right,” you agree, “So by starting over, you mean…”

“Completely,” he answers quick. “Let’s re-introduce ourselves.”

Your lips don’t quiver, drawn into a line. “You gotta be kidding.”

“I’m serious!” Jaehyun claims. “C’mon, I’ll even go first.”

“Jaehyun—”

“Aht, aht! You’re not supposed to know my name,” Jaehyun chides. “Hi, my name’s Jaehyun, I’m twenty-one, and I like Cigarettes After Sex. The band, I mean. I don’t smoke.”

You roll your eyes. There was no need for him to explain, because literally everybody knows Jaehyun likes Cigarettes After Sex, the same way everyone knows you like SHINee. But for the sake of placating him and getting this over with, you refuse to make any comments.

“This is so corny.”

“The longer you wait the longer it takes.”

Reluctantly you give in, but not without a groan. “Hi, Jaehyun. My name’s y/n, I’m also twenty-one, and I like SHINee.”

Jaehyun claps dramatically, “Bravo! Was that so hard?”

“Yes, actually.”

He giggles, tells you to stop being dramatic and you two begin your mission to ride every ride that you can within the span of a few hours. You get more snacks in between, sharing a container of butter-y delicious popcorn and double-dating some rides with the other pairs (which unfortunately happens to lead to you witnessing Mark throwing up in a bush).

Unfortunately, time flies by fast when you’re having fun, and when Yeri texts the Pal-Cation Pals group chat to meet up by the first popcorn stand in fifteen minutes, you know you have little time remaining, enough for one last ride.

The Ferris Wheel.

Last but not least, the Ferris Wheel. You and Jaehyun have been saving it for last, agreeing the full experience is at dark night, when the colorful lights illuminate the indigo sky.

“Let’s go!” You pull him into a cart, and he laughs at your enthusiasm.

When the ride starts, Jaehyun holds your hand and you rest your head on his shoulder. It feels nice and comfortable, and you quickly realize you miss having him like this. Close to you. And it’s silent for a moment. You and Jaehyun have always had these moments together, where you’re not talking one another’s ears off, but holding each other in warm silence. You have always valued the other’s company.

You watch as the world gets smaller underneath your feet, how the Ferris wheel lights twinkle in vibrant colors, and shine on its surroundings. You see how the other rides glow in the dark, appearing so close yet so far away.

It’s beautiful. Your eyes flare different colors—red, blue, pink, green—as you gawk in wonder. If you could, you’d stay like this forever, watching this astonishing sight with Jaehyun at your side.

“You look pretty in the light,” Jaehyun marvels, snapping you out of your daze. The butterflies and their flapping wings come back, and he’s always been able to make you feel like this so easily.

Warmth fills your cheeks, and you turn around so that he doesn’t notice. “Don’t I always? Or are you saying I only look pretty in the light?”

Jaehyun rolls his eyes, “You’re still impossible. I’m trying to flirt with you.”

“Then do so,” you smile. “Keep telling me about how pretty I am.”

“Look at me,” Jaehyun whispers, but it’s loud and clear to you. Slowly, you do look at him, noticing the way his lips curl into a soft grin, and how the purple light casts on his gorgeous skin and features. “Your lips are pretty, too.”

Next, he’ll call your bones pretty and you’ll still feel your face flush with heat.

Jaehyun kissed you for hours last night, but when his lips collide with yours again you know that you’ll never get used to the feeling. Your fingers card through his hair while his gravitate towards your skin, cold hands sending a shiver down your spine as they mesh with the evening warmth.

You bite at his lip this time, wallowing in the sound of his moan as it tumbles from between his parted lips. He can feel you smiling, the corners of your lips spreading apart as you stifle a laugh.

It feels like fire consumes you, like you’re melting, melting into his touch, like candle wax as his fingertips trace your skin. Like a bomb’s ignited inside you, like you’re exploding, and the more you feel him the more you desire him. The more you crave him, the more your body yearns for him.

You know you have him when you move for his neck, marking a trail of red lipstick stains that look purple in the light. He takes it as a challenge, retaliating with a bite at your neck that makes you sigh in pleasure, and this is definitely why you get along so well—you’re compatible.

“When we get back,” you gasp, ignoring the complacent look he casts at you, “Meet me in my room.”

“What about the others?”

“They saw us making out in the pool, Jaehyun, literally nobody cares,” you roll your eyes. “No more sneaking around shit, right?”

He smiles, “Right. Can’t anyways, your lipstick is all over my throat.”

You giggle, and bring him back in for another kiss as the ride begins to slow to an end.

The next couple of days are equally eventful, yet fly by far too quickly for your liking. You hit the beach and unfortunately witness a woman being stung by a jelly fish, visit some museums, the zoo, and even hike near the Hollywood sign. You also make sure to spend Yeri’s money on some souvenirs, and Jaehyun buys you matching necklaces. You have his J, he has your first initial.

Today is Saturday—already. Tomorrow you will return home, and you’re not sure if you’re ready or not. You sigh as you scroll through your camera roll. You’ve had so much fun this week, there’s the pictures of Mark’s scared face on the roller coaster, Taeyong buried alive into the sand, Yeri and the girls trying on humongous sun glasses at the mall, and the video of Jaemin and Jaehyun arm-wrestling to determine who’s the better Jae to prove it (Jaehyun won).

Like a normal Saturday, today’s the one chill day. The whole week has been chaotic in a fun way, but Yeri had nothing else planned, so she told everyone to take a day to wind down and feel free to venture out to wrap up the vacation.

Which leads you to now.

Jaehyun and you agreed to visit the park, just walking around and talking, and perhaps doing some making out in between. You’ve been doing that a lot lately, and you’re pretty sure you’re addicted. It’s like there’s crack in his lips that cannot simply be fixed with chapstick.

“It’s hot,” you complain.

Jaehyun snorts. “We’re in California, babe. Imagine Yeri took us to Florida.”

You wince. You’re barely beating the Californian heat, there’s no way you’ll survive down south in Florida. It doesn’t even snow there.

“I thought you were gonna say some fake-romantic shit, like I’ll reach into the sky and throw the sun into the freezer, princess, just say the word,” you mimick his voice exaggeratedly.

Jaehyun rolls his eyes, but laughs nonetheless, “No can do, princess,” he teases, “but I can get us some ice cream from that stand over there. Stay put, I’ll be right back.”

“Wait!” You shout. “You even know what I want?”

He says your favorite flavor, and even your preferred container to consume it in, “Right?”

A smile spreads on your lips, and your heart flutters. He remembers. “Right.”

Jaehyun shoots you a smile then jogs over to the ice cream stand, pulling his wallet from his pockets. You gotta remember to ask him where he’s getting all this money from, this man could be a drug dealer for all you know.

Nonetheless, you sit at a nearby bench and pull out your phone. Nothing beats checking up on your Animal Crossing island while you wait.

You notice the presence of someone sitting beside you but don’t bat an eye, knowing without looking that it isn’t Jaehyun. And who are you to shoo away a stranger if they want to rest their feet?

“You must be y/n,” hearing your name, your eyes snap to the side instinctively.

And that’s when you realize that this stranger may not be as unknown as you initially thought.

Your eyes widen, “You…”

“I am, Jaehyun’s ex-girlfriend,” she, Victoria announces proudly, like it’s some achievement to be clipped onto the fridge.

You never met her, but you’ll never forget her name, or her face for that matter. It’s kind of stupid, how you found out. You were on Instagram, and you saw Jaehyun’s account in the replies of Yeri’s post. You clicked his profile, because you had never exchanged accounts before, and you quickly saw why.

He didn’t post her often, amongst all the flaunting images of himself, but when he did he made it crystal clear that she was his girlfriend, and what sole other woman would he continuously post onto his page?

“What are you doing here?” You ask, an obviously bitter edge to your voice. It isn’t she that you should be bitter towards, but you can’t help but feel slightly defensive.

“Relax, darling, I’m not stalking you on whatever summer vacation he’s had the courtesy to whisk you away on,” Victoria giggles. Of course not, that would be obsessive. “It’s actually a coincidence to see you, but since we’re here, let’s talk.”

Disinterested, you reply, “There’s nothing for you and I to discuss.”

“Of course, there is! You were fucking with him while he was with me, right?” she gives you a picture-perfect smile that makes you want to grit your teeth, yet you compose yourself. She sighs, “You know that, and yet you’re like what, dating him now? I’m telling you now, once a cheater, always a cheater. You might think he loves you now, but I promise you, he’ll stab you in the back the moment you aren’t looking.”

Victoria misjudges your silence as you giving her the go-ahead to continue, “I know that you know, and I know you’re trying to convince yourself that he’s changed, but he’s still the same old bastard he was three years ago. I mean just look at him, he’s even flirting with that lady now.”

With furrowed brows, you turn in Jaehyun’s direction, eyes finding that he actually is flirting with the ice cream lady. You can’t believe your eyes. Really? The fucking ice cream woman? He isn’t trying to be subtle with it, either.

She tilts her head as she speaks in your ear, “See? He doesn’t give a fuck. Not about you, not about her, not about any of us. You’re just yet another notch in his belt.”

And suddenly, all those doubts come back, the ones that you had pushed away and replaced with your growing feelings for him. Yet now that they’re existing within the same space, it’s even more terrifying, it’s exactly what you feared.

What if Jaehyun never really cared? What if all this is just some big act? What if he’s just been playing with your emotions this entire time? What if you don’t really know Jaehyun like you thought?

You want him, but what if he doesn’t really want you?

Jaehyun walks over, seemingly not noticing his ex-girlfriend’s presence, “I got the ice cream. Who’s th—Victoria?”

“Hello, Jaehyun,” she waves, offering him a smile. “We were just talking about you.”

“What the fuck did you tell her?” Jaehyun scowls, taking notice of your silence and the empty, unhappy gaze you shoot him. You don’t even smile, hardly even blink.

Victoria shrugs. “Nothing she doesn’t already know.”

“I’m walking back to the hotel,” you announce, sliding your phone back into your pocket and peeling yourself off of the bench.

“Wait!”

He calls out your name.

For the third time, you turn and walk away.

This time, though, he’s not letting you walk away. Not without putting up a fight first.

“Why are we doing this again?” Jaehyun yells. “Why? Did I do something? We can just talk this out, you know. What happened to no more secrets?”

You retort, “You fucking tell me, Jaehyun! How am I supposed to know that you don’t have secrets?”

“The same goddamn way I know you don’t have any! Trust!” And the realization hits him hard. He knows that it’s only been some days, but what could Victoria have said to make you back out so hastily? “Is that what it is? You don’t trust me?”

Tears sting your eyes. “Trust you? You want me to trust you? With you being the kind of person you are? You’re out of luck.”

That burned Jaehyun. After all of the bonding you’ve done lately, he would’ve thought that you would trust him a little more, but he sees clearly now. He sees that he’s done all he can do, and now it’s time for you to do your part.

“What kind of person am I, y/n?” He asks coldly, shoving his hands in his pockets.

You spit, “You’re an asshole.”

“Yeah?” Jaehyun laughs tonelessly, “Well frankly I think you’re an asshole, too. So when you’re ready to be assholes together, let me know.”

And this time, Jaehyun’s the one that walks away. This time, you understand his pain, as you have those tear-stung eyes and that quivering voice. That empty feeling inside, the pang in your heart. The way it’s killing you inside, but you don’t have it in you to move, to chase him. All you can do for now is let it eat at you slowly.

Maybe Victoria was wrong. Maybe you’re planting the knife in your own back.

Sunday comes slowly, and you’re glad you didn’t ride the same van as Jaehyun. You still have to deal with the curious stares your friends shoot you, but it’s better than confronting your emotions, or at least you think it is.

You’re not ready yet.

When you get home, the first time you do is order Panda Express via Uber Eats so that you don’t starve as you rot in your room. The next thing you do is flop against your bed and and sob.

A few days go by like this, in pure brutal agony. You drowning in your thoughts, the maybes and the what if’s. You feel like a teenage girl experiencing her first break-up, lost and confused and unsure of how to deal with the hurt. It’s no one’s fault but yours though, and it’s your job to fix it or forever hold your peace.

Love is hard. You know that. You accept that. If you couldn’t, then it would be wrong of you to try be in a real relationship. But loving, as a verb, is easy. Too easy. So easy, to the point where sometimes, you don’t realize you’re doing it until it’s too late. What’s harder is accepting the fact that love isn’t a choice, but a feeling. If it was, you would have chosen to stop loving Jaehyun years ago. You would have chosen to fall in love with Taeyong, or maybe even Kai.

But your heart chose Jung Jaehyun, and it must have a mind of it’s own, because no matter how much you tell it to let go, it doesn’t listen.

That’s why as the days go by, they’re slow and empty. Because Jaehyun’s not there. Not with you. And a little voice in the back of your head is saying he’s with another girl, but your heart is telling you to have faith. You are severely conflicted.

Just when you think you might just spend the rest of your life rotting here, you’re quickly proven wrong by the dedication and genuine care and concern of your best friends.

“Hey, bitch,” Jaemin strolls in casually, as though this is his room, “New guy already?”

“What?”

“Some guy opened the door,” he replies, flopping against your bean-bag cough.

You blink, gears turning in your mind as you try to decipher what man could possibly be inside of your house—oh. You roll your eyes, “That’s my roommate’s boyfriend, you dumbass.”

“Oh,” Jaemin mumbles, then his eyes twinkle as he makes a move for your desk, “Ooh, Panda Express.”

Suddenly, Yeri storms inside your bedroom, flickering on the lights inside your very much dim and deprived of life, sunshine and happiness room, chanting vigorously the lyrics to Ariana Grande and Nicki Minaj’s The Light is Coming, “The light is coming to give back everything the darkness stole!”

You groan, yanking the sheets and comforter over your face to block out the light like a vampire, “You guys, please leave me alone.”

“Nope,” says Taeyong, who follows suit after your other friends, venturing into your room. You fight, you tugging the covers towards you while he attempts at pulling them off. It’s a quick battle which you lose, and you soon accept defeat. “You’ve been suffering in silence—and darkness—for far too long. So, fess up. What did that punk do? Do I need to prepare the coffee?”

You sigh, Saturday seeping back into your memory. “He didn’t do anything.”

Jaemin blinks. “What do you mean? Why else have you been sulking in your bedroom for the past four days like a divorced man who’s ex-wife took the kids and the TV? Shit, all you’re missing is a bar and some alcohol at this point.”

You roll your eyes, “I mean, I was the one that fucked up this time.”

“What?”

“What?”

“What?”

They all gasp involuntarily, and if you had it in you, you would roll your eyes at the chorus of what’s.

That day rewinds in your head, how it was so warm then so cold within a matter of moments. Your eyes water as you recall everything that happened, Victoria, your public altercation, walking back to the hotel alone while it felt like there was a rain cloud above your head, despite the piping hot conditions outdoors.

It isn’t like you don’t want to let Jaehyun in. You do, but you’re terrified of granting him that permission, of giving him your heart when he’s broken it before. But this way, you’re only breaking your heart more, and breaking his, too.

“I did something stupid. I assumed the worst when I shouldn’t have, and then I got scared. So I ran,” you want to bury yourself underneath the covers and sink into the earth to be forgotten, but you have to deal with your mistakes. “And I broke his heart. Now I need to fix it, but I don’t fucking know how.”

Yeri thinks you’re dumb.

Taeyong thinks you’re stupid.

Jaemin thinks you’re out of your fucking mind and an absolute fool for letting your thoughts destroy you, but he’ll do whatever he can to help.

“Talk to him, duh,” Yeri says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, and it is, but easier said than done.

“How? I bet he doesn’t even want to see my face.”

“Are you kidding?” Jaemin gawks. “He’s been moping around the apartment like literally all week, and me and Jongin haven’t said anything because we thought it was his fault! He also has divorced man syndrome!”

Oh. You feel extra stupid now, and you can’t believe you let Victoria get in your head. Collapsing onto your pillow, you groan, “I really am an asshole.”

“Maybe, yeah,” Taeyong agrees, “but so is he, you guys are a match made in heaven.”

“Or hell,” Jaemin chimes in.

Taeyong glares. “With that being said—and I mean this in the friendliest way possible—get your head out of your ass and go talk to him.”

And you smile softly at that. If Taeyong’s giving you the push, you know that everyone’s right and you need to do something. Now.

You nod and whip out your phone with a sigh, opening iMessage. Can we talk?

(Delivered.)

(Read.)

Sure.

Antsy, you’re fidgeting. Your anxiety is spiking and you can feel your heartbeat directly in your eardrums, but this time your fears won’t scare you off. You wait for Jaehyun, feet tapping against the ground restlessly, until you see him nearing.

He walks over to your side, leaning against the wall with his hands in his pockets and you feel your heart wrenching a little when you notice that he doesn’t give you his wild grin he usually shoots whenever he sees you. His face is inscrutable, and you bite back the urge to run, because you know now that no matter how fast you run, you’ll never be able to hide from your feelings.

“Hey,” your voice is giving up on you, but you refuse to let it. Get a grip.

“Hey,” Jaehyun whispers back. His eyes are dark and empty, and that’s how you know you cut him deep. There’s always a gleam to his eyes, whether sad or blissful.

You can do this, you tell yourself. You’ve talked to him about much worse before, this should be nothing. But still, it’s never been quite like this. You’ve never made this bad of a mistake.

“About Saturday,” you begin, still fidgeting but managing to look at him, “I’m sorry. I jumped to conclusions instead of asking you, instead of trusting you, and I let Victoria get in my head—”

“Yeah, what the hell was that about?” Jaehyun interjects. “Sorry for interrupting you, but I’m still confused. Did I do something?”

“She pointed out that you were flirting with the ice cream lady. What was that?”

Jaehyun blinks, processing your statement, and when he does he begins shaking his head, “Seriously? You’re telling me this is all over the fucking ice cream? I was only flirting with her to get free ice cream! You know they was trying to charge me fifteen dollars for 4 scoops?”

“It’s not just that!” You exclaim. “Like, yeah, that triggered it, but—fuck, Jaehyun, I was scared, I was so fucking scared. I was overthinking, and all my doubts and fears came back, that what if you never cared, what if you don’t want me like I want you, what if I don’t know you like I think I do? I was scared to trust you, scared that I love you because I don’t want to lose you again—”

If Jaehyun was a dog, his ears would perk up. “You love me?”

“Yes,” you answer boldly. “I love you, Jaehyun. I’m in love with you, and up until now that scared me half to death, because I wasn’t sure how I was supposed to know that you love me, too,” and especially enough to stay. “But now I know. I trust you, Jaehyun. I love you, I want you, and I’m gonna be honest, I’m still a little scared. But that’s what love is, trusting someone to not break your heart. It’s a risk I’m ready to take for you.”

Jaehyun is silently stunned. He doesn’t have much to say, taken aback by your confession and the fact this actually happening. “You mean that?”

You nod, smiling. “Every word.”

In seconds, Jaehyun has you pinned to the wall, his lips against yours. God, you missed this feeling. The feeling of his plush lips against yours, his hands on your body. You miss kissing him irresistibly, every hour of every day, for moments at a time until you were breathless.

Jaehyun seems to have missed it just as much, kissing you with a passion—hungrily; greedily. He kisses you like he can’t have enough, like his lips have an insatiable hunger.

And you can’t believe you’re making out with him behind your apartment, but you’re willing to try new things for him.

Jaehyun taps your thighs, and by now you know that that meets to jump, so you do, shrieking a little, yet he doesn’t let you fall. “I got you,” he whispers in between kisses, breath tickling your skin, “and I won’t ever let you go.”

It’s been five days. You’ve been trying not to think too hard about the label thing, maybe Jaehyun is planning something, he wouldn’t just forget to ask you to be his girlfriend.

You’re walking back to your apartment when it happens.

“Excuse me,” a stranger with an oddly familiar voice calls at to you, and when you whirl around, the last person to see is…

“Taemin?” You nearly scream. He points his index finger to his lips, gesturing for you to be quiet, which makes sense because you’re in public but there’s literally no way the man standing before you is the Lee Taemin. You’re dreaming.

You even pinch yourself, much to his amusement, and come to the realization that this is very much real. You could faint. Taemin? Lee Taemin? From SHINee? There’s simply no way.

“I believe this is for you,” Taemin holds in his hands your all-time favorite SHINee album, The Misconception Of Us. You take it, staring at the album in disbelief. You’re gawking. “And one last thing. Come with me, please?”

Okay, what the hell. He has to be trying to kidnap you or something, it’s perfect bait. Who wouldn’t agree to follow their favorite artist after they randomly pop up behind you and offer you your favorite album for free? You’re lucky it isn’t some kidnapping scheme, because you ultimately end up following him despite your doubts.

He takes you to the cafe, which, to your surprise is empty. At least you think it is, until Jaehyun slips out of hiding, walking up to you with a smile.

“Jaehyun,” you can’t help smile back, “What the?”

“Flip it over,” he says, gesturing towards the album, and curiously, you obey. To the back is attached a sticky note that says, To my 1 of 1 girl, will you be my girlfriend? It’s cheesy, but it has you smiling so hard your cheeks hurt.

“Yes!” Instantly, you crash into his arms. “Yes, yes, yesyes yes—” he has to cut you off with his lips, and you melt into kiss.

You pull away the second you hear the intro to your favorite song, 1 of 1, and look onto the cafe stage (yes, the cafe has a stage for Friday through Saturday night performances) to see Taemin beginning to sing and cover the other members parts.

You’re mind-blown. A part of you is still convinced that this is a dream, because how the fuck did Jaehyun get a man as busy as Lee Taemin to do this? You forgot to ask him who he works for, but do drug dealers have Lee Taemin money?

“How did you—”

“Shh,” Jaehyun pecks your lips, “Taemin’s singing.”

You roll your eyes, yet giggle. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Jaehyun engulfs you in a warm, comfortable hug, “And only you.”

When he says it, you trust him. You believe him. Because the Jung Jaehyun you know and love today is a man of his word, and that means you get to love him with no fears, and no worries.

Love is a challenge. And in this moment and the next, it’s safe to say you’ve won.

[miachangedblogs]

TWST Become Human

Warning!!! This contains: Spoilers for Detroit Become Human + twisted wonderland. Later on would have NSFW, fem reader, noncon/dubcon etc!!

Heartslabyul

Riddle Rosehearts

Status: Human

As the only child of the two most astound doctors of Twisted Wonderland, it’s no wonder his parents are so protective over him. Raised to know more than five languages, always the top of his class and even managing to remember all 810 of the Queen of Hearts rule by the age of 10, he’s sure to to become something great. Imagine the surprise and horror of everyone when he got in an freak accident and was almost pronounced dead on the spot?? It’s a miracle he survived such a horrible fate. Ever since the incident, the Rosehearts family became very private, even more than before. They invested in multiple androids to guard Riddle as they made sure not even a scratch were to adorn his features. But.. it’s so strange…

But why can’t he remember what happened before the accident?

ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Trey Clover

Status: Human

One of Riddle’s only friends in this world and the only friend his parents allow Riddle to have; The Clover family is known worldwide for their delectable pastries and equally sweet hospitality to anyone and anything, even androids. Everyone is welcome in the Clover bakery! Trey’s big brother like personality makes him so hard to hate! And so hard to notice his weirdly observant and weirdly… obsessive nature? There’s no way someone as humble and kind as him could be someone so malicious. But as the taste of poison is hidden by the sugary batter, his ‘flaws’ are quickly overlooked. If not, his unique magic can always help him out.

ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Cater Diamond

Status: Android

Bought as a playmate for Riddle, Cater immediately Fails as he’s deemed “obnoxious” and “rude” by Riddle. Trey seems to hold sympathy for him though, the two becoming quite close as a human and an android without emotions could get. Though, even as an android, Cater’s programming makes him seem so real. Perhaps the expressive and seemingly real emotions creeped Riddle off.

Some speculate he’s a deviant, but no need to worry! Cay-Kun is soooo harmless! Just ask his siste- wait what? Sisters? Since when did he have those?? You must be hearing things. Come on, hold still and give a big smile to the camera, yeah?

ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Ace Trappola

Status: Human

No one knows how or why Ace managed to snag a job at the Rosehearts estate. His rebellious nature and constant rule breaking always ends up with him collared by the Riddle, and yet he’s never fired. His favorite pastime by far would have to be screwing up Deuce’s work, sabotaging his coworkers hard work to put himself above him. Deuce is just too gullible, there’s no way people would actually choose him over the clear winner of the Ace Trappola! His eyes filled with clear distain and disgust whenever Cater calls the two “besties”, even making a nickname for the two, “adeuce”. Gross. Don’t fucking group him with that idiot. He’s clearly way better. Don’t you think?

ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Deuce Spade

Status: Human

Wanting to be a police officer when he grows up, Deuce eagerly jumped at the opportunity to work within the walls of the Rosehearts Manor. After all, it would look great on his resume. He always seemed to have a clear distain for androids. Perhaps it’s his mind already conditioning him to be prepared to fight against deviants when he ultimately joins the forces. Even with this clear bias, he remains respectful towards any androids that reside amongst the manor. Although not the sharpest tool in the shed, he tries his very best!

ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Savanaclaw

Leona Kingscholar

Status: Beastmen

Being the second born prince of the Afterglow Savannah, Leona was constantly watched by eyes from all around the world, yet never truly basking in the spotlight. Even within the shadows his every move was constantly criticized. He would be forgotten if not for the constant ‘tantrums’ he used to throw. Refusing to go to his lessons, family dinners, important meetings and so on. One day, it all stopped. No one knows how or why until Leona emerged after months with a scar adorning his left eye. Rather than sympathy, his people cheered at the seemingly calm Prince. How cruel. He should be feeling enraged, betrayed at his own people’s lack of empathy, but right now he’s just so tired. He doesn’t know why but he just doesn’t have the energy to feel anymore.

ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Ruggie Bucchi

Status: Android

A lowly hyena android who’s desperation led to him snatching the scorned Prince’s wallet. Of course he was caught immediately, his fate to be destroyed publicly for his audacious actions. Leona however, had different plans for him. To put it simply, he was amused. Perhaps it was his audacity that let the Prince show mercy, or maybe it was the droplets of blue smudged all over Ruggie hands. Either way, Ruggie managed to secure the role as Leona’s informant amongst the villagers of the Afterglow Savannah as well as his personal servant. At least it pays well I suppose.

ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Jack howl

Status: Beastmen

He cannot stand injustice towards anything, especially the ones androids face in the hands of humans. The deviants at first creeped him out but he learned to respect them to a degree. He wouldn’t necessarily go out of his way to help them escape to Canada, nor would he befriend them, after all they were deviants. Who knows if they’re the violent type? He will however protect them if he saw some kids throwing rocks at it or adults being unreasonably physical with them.

ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Octavinelle

Azul Ashengrotto

Status: Human

The heir of his mother’s multi million restaurant business housing many android servers, Azul Ashengrotto isn’t a stranger nor is opposed to androids. His two “bodyguards” (and regrettably best friends) are androids after all. Besides, androids are very profitable! He also runs a benevolent business where he can grant any of your wildest dreams and wishes. Want to be thinner? Or perhaps after the heart of a young woman? Indeed he’ll be able to help! Just sign your name riighhhht here. Oh, and make sure you do abide by the contract. People who don’t have a tendency to… disappear. We certainly wouldn’t want that, would we?

ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

The leech twins

Status: Android

After the grief of none of their eggs surviving, Mr. And Mrs. Leech desperately contacted every android company for a custom Androids that would resemble what would be their children. After years of prototypes and programming, one unnamed company managed to come up with two twins for the new parents.

Unfortunately, the robotic nature of their ‘children’ were not enough for the two, leading to some tweaking in their code.

The Leech family announced their twins as mermen to the public, hiding the true nature of their children. The only ones who know are the Ashengrotto family who swore to secrecy to keep their mouth shut about the whole situation. It is common knowledge in the sea that those who oppose the Leech family meet a gruesome fate. It’s not like they have a choice really.

ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Scarabia

Kalim Al-Asim

Status: Human

As the eldest son of the Asim family, the heir of all the wealth, Kalim has been spoiled rotten since birth. It’s no wonder his perception of money and people are distorted. The public views him as spoiled, entitled, overly bubbly and dumb. He may be naive, yes, but he’s not dumb.

ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Jamil Viper

Status: Human

A servant of Kalim Al-Asim from birth to his destined death. Kalim’s “best friend”, “playmate”, “right hand man”, “advisor”. He’s heard it all. He could only grit his teeth and smile politely. As always, Jamil was tasked to taste test Kalim’s food, only to find himself at death door. He watched in anguish and rage at the amount of people swarming the young heir instead of him. The one about to die.

After the hospitalization, Jamil has become more quiet. More alert. At first his parents grew concerned, though Kalim’s father kept trying to reassure that nothings wrong. Overtime Jamil learned to put on a mask for his parents to ease their concern. It’s nothing new to him anyways.

Sometimes he wishes it was Kalim instead…

ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Pomfiore

Rook Hunt

Status: Human

Rook Hunt is most popular for being Vil’s unofficial manager and best friend. One of the most loyal people in Vil’s life allowed Rook to be able to house every single secret of Vil. Paparazzi have tried numerous times to get him to fess up, even offering him millions. Rook would always just smile with his fox-like grin and brushed them off with a swift change of topic. It is also to be known that Rook is known to have a “morbid” curiosity regarding anything that isn’t human. His curiosity doesn’t have any bad intentions, no underlining malice whatsoever. He just sees beauty in everything. It’s more fascination than anything. This does cause him to come off as creepy and overly eccentric, his mere presence causing unease to those around him.

ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Epel felmier

Status: Human

A country boy who came to the big city for education but more so excitement. His small town, Harveston was known to be one of the only places that didn’t house androids. It wasn’t a matter of the people despising androids, Harveston was just a traditional town. A small town that barely even used modern day farming equipment. They simply just wanted to keep tradition. You could imagine his surprise when he saw just how realistic and smart androids were. He doesn’t have an opinion on them, not yet. All he cares about is working hard for the blast-cycle he’s so desperate to buy.

ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Ignihyde

Idia shroud

Status: half human, half android: Cyborg

An unnamed incident had caused the death of Ortho Shroud and severe injuries to Idia Shroud. Idia’s parents could only save the eldest via trading off his damaged human parts with android scraps, successfully producing the first recorded cyborg Twisted Wonderland has ever known. He’s still human, just some of his limbs and bone structure being held up by metal. As soon as he recovered he began working day and night to make a replica of his deceased brother. His grief made him spiral into a deep denial as even though he was the one to build Ortho, he fully believed he was the same old Ortho from back then. He began insisting that everyone treat Ortho as human, snapping at anyone who dares to call his little brother an “android Assistant”. Can’t you all see he’s alive?? How audacious.

ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Ortho Shroud

Status: Android

A bright young boy who cares deeply for his brother. Much is unknown.

ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Diasomnia

Lilia Vanrouge

Status: Fae

An Ex general and now the right hand man to the prince of Briar Valley, Malleus Draconia. Not much is known about this Fae, not much is known about anyone from Briar Valley in general. People do say he’s incredibly friendly, much more approachable than the Prince. Even with his bubbly exterior, people tend to be on edge in his presence. Perhaps it’s the sharp fangs, the hint of mischief in his eye, or maybe it’s the knowledge of his past as the most feared general. Nowadays multiple rumours circulate him such as him being a rockstar, a vampire, even an android. How amusing. Perhaps all are true, perhaps none. Who knows, really?

ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Sebek Zigvolt

Status: Android

Loud and boisterous, an overly protective and aggressive android brought in by Lilia to be Malleus’s body guard. He has a clear disdain towards deviants and humans, constantly belittling both. I’m his mind, the hierarchy seems to be Fae first, then android, then everyone else. You can be sure that he will never become a deviant with his strict nature. Although Sebek does seem to be alarmed at the threat of becoming a deviant. He can’t help but feel scared… Scared? No, that’s not right. Androids can’t feel... Can they?

*. ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Warning!!! This contains: perv Idia, noncon thoughts, masturbation, gross Idia, fem reader.

You just can’t believe your luck.

You’ve rubbed your eyes again to make sure it was functioning correctly, re reading the huge words “accepted” printed dark blue on the letter.

“Welcome to STYX mechanic number 0962! How’s your day been?” An android radiating with enthusiasm greeted you immediately, hovering towards you. A little peeved at your label you couldn’t help but frown just a bit. Behind him stood a tall, pale man; you could only assume it was Idia Shroud, the heir of STYX. You tried to push down your panic and unease, every ounce of confidence immediately evaporating. Ortho ushered you inside the huge building, talking endlessly about his brother, STYX, your role in STYX and just how happy he is to meet you.

Ortho is a clear deviant. That much is very clear when you first met him. Though nice and friendly, you ought to keep your guard up. You make a mental note; be cautious around Ortho.

“-re you listing Ms. 0962?” Ortho stops in his tracks as he tilts your head towards you.

“Hm? Oh yeah, sorry Ortho.” He giggled as he continued to hover around.

“You’re so silly Ms. 0962. I can see you and my brother becoming great friends!” You could only awkwardly smile and nod as you continued your walk with him, not noticing the constant glances from Idia directed right at you.

It’s been a month since your employment in STYX. You’ve tried making attempts to socialise with coworkers but they always give you such short answers, talking to you only when it’s absolutely necessary. It didn’t help that your boss was such a pain. Always giving you short responses, constantly glaring at you as if your very existence threatened him in some way. At least the pays good and your boss’s android assistant keeps you good company? You don’t even know anymore.

You were working on some papers when the door to your office opened.

It was your boss.

Mentally groaning, you got up to bow and gave him a nervous smile.

“Hello Mr. Shroud. What can I do for you?” Idia only glared at you as he swiftly turned around, beckoning you to follow him. Hastily you put down your belongings to catch up, jogging towards him.

“You’ll work on an “important client”. Try not to mess up.” Your boss went on about what it is and what is expected but all you could focus on was the speck of blue staining his jaw. You reached into your pocket and pulled out your handkerchief with a smile.

“You got some thirium on you Mr. Shroud. Here, lemme wipe it o-” just as you were about to wipe it off with your handkerchief, Idia snatched the cloth out of your hand.

“I’ll do it myself later.” Sneering, he puts it in his back pocket and continues to walk you to your office. You shrink at the cold attitude, awkwardly playing with the hem of your shirt.

Idia suddenly stopped in his tracks as he got his key card out to open a room filled with thirium bags and thousands of tools you never even knew nor heard of before. Walking inside you notice a huge box of what you assume to be the container of the android. Your boss rudely shoves a crumpled paper in your hands.

“The code to the box.” He explains as he swiftly heads out of the room, not even sparing you a second glance.

“G-goodbye Mr. Shroud!” You bow one last time as the door closes in front of you without a response. Sighing at the lack of response, you stare at the crumpled up paper and back at the box containing your new project.

Idia panted heavily as his hands pumped his dick desperately, chasing after his release. The other hand pressed the handkerchief into his nose.

God you were cute.

To be completely honest, hiring you was an honest mistake, a product of his carelessness and lack of sleep finally catching up to him. Your resume wasn’t anything noteworthy, if anything, you were severely under qualified for this job. Alas idia was too tired to notice his mistake when he accidentally pressed hire on his computer. He wanted nothing more than to smash his keyboard just thinking about the scolding he’d get from his parents.

Truly a blessing in disguise.

With a shaky moan Idia came all over his desk, gasping for air as he stayed slumped on his seat. After a few minutes Idia sat upright, groaning as he shoved the handkerchief into his pocket for future use. Grabbing handfuls of tissue he lazily cleaned himself up, mind hazy still thinking of you.

He wonders if you’d like pomegranates.

*. ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

I love the idea of android twst and wanted to put my two cents on it! Shout out to the lovely @cvlutos for the amazing concept and fleshing out go check them out lovelies! Currently unfinished so sorry! To be honest I probably won’t make new parts for this but we’ll see. If you have any thoughts, requests or questions please send them my way!!

That’s all for today!! Tune in for more sweethearts!

Bitter dreams<33

[twstedstoryshop]

Shaking the rust off with writing fluffy headcanons. This is a very self-indulgent piece for me as I’m a rather touchy person who will hug and cling onto my close friends. -Shopkeep

Heartslabyul With A Super Affectionate MC

“Prefect, I was just looking for you.” “Oh, hey! What do ya need, sweetheart?”

Never had Riddle gone bug-eyed and slack-jawed so fast. His cheeks immediately go red, rivaling the freshly painted roses the freshmen had just finished. He tries to find his words, failing for a good five seconds before he barks out, “Wha-what did you just call me…!?”

“Sweetheart?” “Yes, that!” You tilt your head. “I call everyone pet names, do you not like it?” “O-of course I don’t like it! I’m not some little child to coo over!”

You feel a little disheartened, but you understand where Riddle is coming from. You agree to stop calling him pet names, but the Dorm Leader feels a bit guilty seeing you look a little bummed.

Riddle wouldn’t lie to himself that he felt annoying knots form in the pit of his stomach when you’re openly affectionate with others, but immediately get a bit formal when he steps into the room.

It gets to the point where when the two of you are alone, he sighs, and admits, “I apologize for the way I yelled at you that one time… I actually don’t mind it when you, ahem, call me pet names… Only in private though!”

Physical affection is something Riddle has to work the nerve for. When you asked to merely lean against his shoulder in private, he said yes, but it was so uncomfortable by how stiff the poor guy was.

But in due time, he’ll ease into it, truly enjoying the contact. Especially when you two hug. You can feel him nuzzle against you when you embrace and you do the same, burying yourself in his clothes as you cling to one another.

“Could you pass me that jar of sugar, Prefect?” “Oh yeah, honey, I gotchu.”

Trey would perk up at the little name and a small smirk curls on his lips. He’d playfully reply back, “Thank you, sweetie~” just to see your reaction. Be it flustered or pleasantly surprised, it would amuse him greatly.

Seeing the positive reaction to the pet names, you would edge into more bold moves where you gently bump your forehead against his shoulder or ask to lay your head in his lap.

Naturally, he would still poke a little fun at you, saying you remind him of his baby siblings. But he doesn’t stop you though! He even goes as far as to pat your head as you lean against him. You’d either lay your hand on top of his, grasping it gently or taking it to admire it.

Definitely one of the big candidates to cling onto his arm if you feel like you need security walking anywhere or need physical contact.

“Heya, Prefect~!” “Hiya, Cay-bb!!!”

Takes to your affections like a duck to water. Is more than happy to envelope you in his arms, swing you around if he could, and is all smiles.

Doesn’t bat an eye if you wordlessly lean against his shoulder and clutch on his shirt or you press your face against his stomach as you lay in his lap. He either has an arm around your shoulders or lays a hand on your side, thumb idly tapping a beat stuck in his head while he scrolls through his phone.

Sometimes he lets you stare at his scrolling if you’re cuddling up against him. You both chuckle at any funny posts or you make some side comments of any of his posts.

You get to see a glimpse of his more observant side. Like: “I really like the lighting in this one.” “You think so? I felt like I could have gone for something more eye-catching.” “Nah dude, it looks pretty as hell.”

Another candidate to cling onto his arm if you need security. Will even allow you to interlock fingers as you hold hands.

“Oi, Prefect, come sit with us over here!” “Ahh, thank you so much. You’re an absolute doll~”

Nearly chokes without fail every time that you grace him with a pet name. He sheepishly tries to brush it off like it’s nothing, but his blush and flustered expression say otherwise.

Another boy that turns into a plank of wood at sudden physical affection. He doesn’t stop it though as he will awkwardly return the affection. Please be patient with him as he adjusts.

The affection is more natural though during times where he feels a little downhearted. Be it after flunking a test or he’s just feeling generally homesick. He’ll rest his chin on your shoulder and slump against you. He just wants to be held and feel a comforting hand rub at the back of his head.

“It’s gonna be okay, Deuce… You’re gonna be fine babe…” He buries his face in your shoulder and can only give a little, “Mmm…” in response.

“Yo, Prefect, wanna swing by Sam’s to get some snacks? Heard a deal is happening today.” “Would absolutely love to do that with ya, babe.”

Immediately clocks the pet name and his signature smirk dances across his features. Will tease instantly, asking if you have feelings for him or not. How you respond is all up to you.

Either way, it won’t stop the fact that you two are like glue to each other. You’re very much the obnoxious two that are constantly having some sort of physical contact with one another, unless someone physically gets in between you two.

You are each other’s respite during busy days. You take turns hiding your faces against each other, tuning out the world, and only focusing on each other’s warmth and scent. Ace particularly likes to keep his hand on your back almost in a protective manner if anyone tries to come over and bother you two.

Nap and cuddle homies. It’s so easy for the both of you to immediately relax and fall asleep in each other’s arms. Ace likes to curl up into a ball sometimes with you just so close to him, smothered right up against his chest.

[lyrical-fanfics]

Comforting a depressed partner

So I've been having a bit of a depressive episode, and I've been having a hard time, so I decided to make a quick HC of what the TWST boys would do if you were in the same situation.

✨Heartslaybul✨ | Savanaclaw | Octavinelle | Scarabia | Pomefiore | Ignihyde | Diasomnia

❤️Heartslabyul Boys❤️

Riddle

Would immediately begin piecing things together. He would see self-isolation, oversleeping, and low appetite as red flags, and would start by making a checklist for you.

He would check on you daily to make sure you're doing things to make you feel better.

he would also encourage that you go and do things with him instead of him getting up and doing it by himself.

He serves you tea as a way to get you to sit up instead of just laying down, all while still following the queen's rules.

He also knows your medicine schedule to a T, and will remind you to journal how you're feeling.

He'll do his homework with you in arms reach, just in case you need him, and if you're feeling up to it, you can lean on him. his hand will either rest on yours or on your thigh, occasionally squeezing it to remind you silently that he's there.

"Do you need anything? ... I'll find a stopping point and we can go grab it together. A little walk would do well for you. "

Ace

He's very gentle in private right now. He'll still give you some sass to make you laugh, but he's very careful around you right now

He's highly protective of you right now too. He's either got a hand on you at all times, or he's texting you. Anyone that might give you shit right now is getting a stare-down from him.

He'd deliberately text you and check in on you around mealtime, and chastise you for not eating

He's also spending nights at your place to keep an extra close eye on you, usually after begging Trey for the sleepover permit (not that you'll ever know)

during sleepovers, he's wrapped around you like a weighted blanket, squeezing you to let you know how much he cares.

"You haven't eaten? the last time you ate was 14 hours ago, come on, let's go! can't have you starving on me! what are we having tonight for dinner by the way? I'm sleeping here"

Deuce

He has absolutely no idea what to do

He'd be worrying up a storm, asking constantly what he can do for you.

He'd be like a lost puppy at your side, whimpering and trying to come up with things to do. He's giving plenty of forehead kisses hoping that helps, but they aren't instant cures, so he continues to worry

When there is even an inkling of something you need, he's already on his feet. He wants nothing more than to be there for you,

He hates feeling this useless and wants to do something for you

He finds that when he doesn't know what to do, he just holds you, partially for his own sanity as well

"Huh? Do you have a craving for something? NO! Let me get it! I'll run and get it! I'm fast, I'll promise I'll be right back!"

Cater

Cater's very observant, and would notice signs even before you might piece it together for yourself

Cater's the type to get you walking around with him, whether it's to class or to nowhere

If you can't walk as much as you would like, he's sending you memes and face-timing you while he's away,

He's showing you everything he sees, talking about anything and everything

He wants to make sure you aren't ever lonely right now, and will even be on call with you until you fall asleep

when he's with you, he'll spoon you and scroll through social media with you, occasionally giving you kisses on the crown of your head.

He also has your medicine schedule memorized, and his phone will ping with an alarm to help both of you remember

"You can't go any further? that's okay, you did really well with today's walk! don't worry about anything else, Cay Cay's got you."

Trey

He's immediately making sweets and baked goods for you when you're starting to not feel well,

but when it's clear that it's an episode, he spends less time baking and more time sitting on the edge of your bed keeping you company.

If you're someone who apologizes a lot, he'll make you turn it into things you're thankful about instead of things you're sorry about (Ex. instead of "I'm sorry you have to take care of me" it's "I'm grateful for taking care of me")

He'll rub his thumb over your hands, give you gentle kisses, comforting you through this time.

He's here for you, making sure you aren't alone

"Hey, how are you doing today? any better?... No no, don't apologize, I'm gonna be here for you regardless. Here, I brought you something."

[zgvlt]

stop and stare riddle rosehearts x reader

summary: Everyone thinks Riddle likes you, and that you like him back, but the truth isn't always so pretty. Slowly but surely, he works through his complicated feelings for you.

tags: gender neutral reader, sfw, light angst, jealousy (and not the cute kind), pre-relationship, rivals to friends to maybe more than friends, academic rivalry, happy/hopeful ending, 8.0k+ words, not beta read

author's note (see end notes for more): This was supposed to be funny, light-hearted, & fluffy, but I wrote and wrote and then the tone changed unexpectedly, but things end on a good note! Happy Birthday Riddle!

you can also read this on AO3

Sometimes, Riddle couldn’t help himself from staring. He knew it was rude to stare so often, but during those few moments—when you would pass him by in the hallways, when you took the same classes as him, when you sat near him during lunch—without fail, his eyes seemed to find themselves drawn to your figure.

Arguably, it was always worse during meal times, when there were no professors or papers to distract himself with.

His lips twitched, inching downwards as he felt his grip on his fork tighten. He was being too reactive again. Maybe he wasn’t actually getting better at controlling his temper.

“Riddle-kun~? You’re meant to eat the cake, not butcher it!” Cater said, and though he tried to keep the atmosphere pleasant with a short bout of laughter and a smile, the redhead knew he was concerned over something , a something Riddle knew he would try to figure out. 

Much to Riddle’s pleasure, Cater has always been good at reading the mood, and he’s grateful the third-year was willing to steer the conversation himself instead of waiting for the other to explain.

“You’ve been staring mindlessly for a few minutes now. You’re always helping us as our dorm leader, so Cay-kun will definitely listen if something’s wrong, you know!”

He nodded in response, genuine about his answer. Sure, he preferred to keep his more private problems to himself for as long as he could, confiding in Trey, his childhood friend, if need be, but Cater was someone he could definitely trust with a secret or two, although he had yet to really do so. 

At the very least, he was sure that he could let slip some of his more… current concerns and personal feelings without fear of being mocked. Someone not too harsh or disrespectful when it comes to giving advice, but someone not too afraid of him, who would just listen to whatever he says with a nod of approval to mask disapproval.

“And you’ll definitely tell me if you, you know, start liking someone, right?”

Riddle sputtered, quickly using his free hand to cover up the incoming coughs. To everyone else, it might have looked like he had choked on his food, and his dining companion was quick to aid to that conclusion with a glass of water being pushed towards him, but he had not even taken a bite since having begun the topic with Cater. It would have been bad manners to talk with food in his mouth—a disrespect to his conversation partner, and to the chefs who made the food he was eating.

Still, it might have been less embarrassing to have been perceived as having momentarily lost his usual composure as opposed to having someone eavesdrop the topic at hand.

“Haah, where is this coming from?” Riddle slid the glass back to Cater, opting to take a sip of his tea instead. It was a little regretful, his having chosen to take it hot, for a colder drink would certainly soothe him and lower his rising ire. “I see that you’re implying something, so I’ll be setting it straight right now that I haven’t even thought of romance for myself, not since that incident with the bride.”

“Man, it’s really just like you to shut the idea down so quickly… So, are you saying you wouldn’t tell me?”

“How am I supposed to answer something so hypothetical?”

That was to say, he wouldn’t provide an answer regarding a situation yet to occur, but he could envision how he would act. He’d probably keep it to himself for a week or so, just in case he needed to verify if it was actually a crush and not just him feeling affectionate in a heightened platonic sense, and then he’d tell… Trey would act too obvious if he knew, so he would hesitate to tell his friend, so Cater… 

Actually, perhaps he would tell no one, for he had a feeling they would unwittingly be the cause of unnecessary dramatics, to put it lightly.

“But if I had to tell anyone, I suppose I would tell you,” Riddle conceded, trusting that the third-year at least had the decency to not post about it all over MagiCam.

The orange-haired boy sighed, almost in relief, as he nodded his head, a few strands of his hair swinging with the motion. “Right! Like, I told everyone if you really did, you’d trust me enough to tell me, but they keep asking anyway! Everyone’s been saying that you…”

“That I…?”

Cater paused, likely realizing a few things, among which were to lower his speaking volume, as well as to word his words very carefully.

“I guess I probably should tell you what they’ve been saying, huh?”

Though Riddle’s not concerned about being the most popular student in school or anything, he couldn’t deny at least being proud of his standing. For Cater to mention it, it must be something different from the usual fear he caused due to the rules he upheld. Even then, at least that fear came with respect. 

In an unknown instance like this, was it not natural to care about his reputation being tarnished?

“It’s not bad or anything, is it?”

“Definitely not!” Cater waved his hands around, trying to reassure him that it really wasn’t, “I guess it’s more… neutral territory?”

“Then I want to hear it.” Regardless if it was good or bad, he would have said yes to hearing it, but he was relieved it was not a case of terrible rumors being spread about him. It would be quite troublesome having to find and deal with the perpetrators, after all.

His upperclassman sucked in a breath, looking at the direction he was staring at a while ago, another sigh of relief escaping him as he found the seat empty, the one previously sitting there having long left the table.

“People, as in, a lot of people seem to think that you like…” Riddle could have guessed who was being referred to even with an omission, but he could not help himself from stabbing his fork just a little more through the cake slice at the mention of your name. “As in, like-like.”

“Of course like-like, that’s what a crush is, is it not?” Riddle could roll his eyes in discontent, but he was too preoccupied with the feeling of embarrassment that overcame him. Still, he could not pretend to be surprised at the outcome—he should have been more subtle, or perhaps just not looked at you in the first place.

Though… Did he actually look at you that much? No one else had ever pointed it out to his face before, so he thought he was being subtle enough.

“Hmm… You look bothered, but not surprised,” Cater pointed out, not bothering to mask the hint of surprise lacing his voice. “Eh? Could it be that there’s some truth to the rumors? I mean, in terms of aesthetics, I can see how you would like—”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Cater. I am not a person who focuses on appearances, but like I’ve already mentioned, I don’t like anyone that way,” and if you ask him, he’s never actually thought about you in such ways—both measuring your attractiveness, as well as seeing you as a romantic prospect. He currently has no time for either or.

“So why do you stare so hard? I don’t know if you know this, but it’s kind of bad . As in, pretty sure even the P.O.I. knows type of obvious.”

With pursed lips, he debated over how to phrase his answer, about how honest he would be over the situation, before simply letting go of whatever hesitations he had left. 

“It’s because I’m jealous.”

There was a new rumor brewing amongst the halls of Night Raven College.

New, which meant a whole week had gone by since the rumor first started, or at least so Cater said, and one of two subjects of the rumor had only just found out about it. 

It seemed that people were particularly careful about not letting him hear, or perhaps he was simply too preoccupied with other things to really listen in on whispers, because once he learned about it, he could not help but tune in to mentions of either his name or yours.

It turns out that Cater was actually being considerate of him too, because like wasn’t the word commonly uttered—no, people seemed to think that he was in love with you.

Riddle really wasn’t surprised by the outcome of his constant staring, schools were, ironically, a breeding ground for misinformation, though it’s just a little unfortunate that the most likely conclusion for his actions ended up being incorrect, that the truth wasn’t very cute and sweet but was rather… for a lack of a better term, unkind.

Riddle Rosehearts was nothing but the best, not a boast but a fact. Even in subjects he did not particularly excel in, he put in all his effort so that nobody could discount the hard work he had put in. He was intelligent, yes, but years upon years of studying day and night had shaped him that way. It wasn’t just natural and it perplexed him at times, the way people thought he could just break free from his routine, to put his books away and somehow retain his position as number one.

Of course he could not stop. 

He hasn’t stopped thinking about it, even though he doesn’t remember much of the details in the first place. The truth had been too muddled by his own perceptions, or perhaps it was a case of him wanting to forget it all. But he could not, and should not forget—he had to remember how it felt to be second, to fuel himself for the next time, because he actually had more stakes in showing the extent of his brilliance.  

That day… either he or you approached the other first, and you shook hands and congratulated each other on your respective placements. It was congenial, it was polite, it was the picture-perfect representation of two of NRC’s outstanding students. You smiled, and although it was easy to see it was not even the slightest bit condescending, it still put a bitter taste in his mouth. He wondered if he smiled back.

Among all other things, he remembered most what he had been thinking of. It was not a sudden hatred for you, for he was not so unreasonable, nor had he fallen in love due to your intelligence or capabilities. No, at that moment he remembered his mother, his childhood, and he had been filled with the realization that perhaps, even after everything, he was still not good enough. 

Was it fair to you that whenever he looked at you, that moment was all he could really think about? No, and he wanted to stop, and maybe even apologize despite you not knowing anything about what he was feeling, but it was more difficult than he initially thought.

In any other case, he would have made an attempt to disprove the rumors, or at the very least dissuade people from making assumptions, creating rumors about him. After all, it was incredibly disrespectful to the both of you— especially you, considering you were just minding your own business. However, shame over his emotions held him back from doing so. 

In the long run, he knew that he just had to study some more, perhaps more efficiently, to catch up to you and earn back his spot as the best student of his year, as he once was before you took that spot. As for the short term, if he couldn’t settle his jealousy right away, then there was always one simple solution—all he had to do was stop looking at you.

Eventually, people would think that he lost interest in you, maybe even realize that they were simply mistaken, and the rumors would die. Everything would return back to normal.

He just hoped that, somehow, you didn’t hear of the rumors, or at the very least refused to believe them. Somehow, the idea of you knowing embarrassed him most of all.

Another week passed before a new rumor erupted in Night Raven College, and much to Riddle’s bewilderment, the both of you were the subject once more. The act of gossiping was something he couldn’t exactly approve of, but if the students really had to, did they not have anything more interesting to talk about? Why were they not old news already? There were bound to be topics far more interesting than a crush he didn’t even have in the first place!

“What is it this time? Don’t tell me people are warping it to something far worse now,” because quite frankly, he did his due diligence to stop looking at you so much, keep his jealousy at bay and manifest that energy in other ways, like just working harder. Less distraction, more concentration mentality.

“No, not at all! Or, at least by my standards, but you might not agree.” There was something about Cater’s words, paired with Trey’s own humming, that had him a little more nervous than he thought he would be. Should be. Why were they all making such a big deal out of this?

“Actually… you know how people think you like… you know who?”

“Haha, you know who? We sound like children. Can’t we say a name?” Despite finding it ridiculous, or perhaps just funny, Trey chose to go along with it. “But you do know, right? Cater said he told you, but I wasn’t sure if you believed him.”

“Hard not to when the evidence speaks for itself,” and continues to speak—endlessly, actually. Everyone was as subtle talking about him as he, allegedly, was when it came to staring at you. Additionally, some braver souls tried to get him to slip up by mentioning your name, giggling and snickering amongst themselves as they anticipated his answer, only to be left disappointed as he neither confirmed nor denied anything, only talking about boring things like your grades and work ethic. 

Honestly, in a world where Riddle did like you and he wasn’t too busy covering up something else, he would have had them collared already.

“I thought everything would just die down naturally. What happened?”

“Apparently~” Cater began to say, with a tone laced with amusement, “people think the feeling’s mutual and that you’re both just too shy to do anything about it. Croomfs, as they would say on MagiCam. Oh, that’s short for–ah, Riddle-kun?”

Riddle felt his face heat up, and he had just enough self-awareness to know he must’ve been turning red—maybe out of exasperation, maybe of discountenance, or perhaps just pure fluster. Regardless, he was in utter disbelief at how something could have escalated in such a manner. 

“Riddle, calm down,” Trey warned him, likely concerned that he was going to blow up. If you asked Riddle, he thought he was actually doing quite well at being calm. For instance, he wasn’t immediately asking who started the rumor in the first place, or screaming, or stabbing his dessert like last time. 

He really did want to scream, though, but he’ll… use up that energy for P.E. with Coach Vargas. Maybe he’ll shock everyone with how much better he’s performing and net himself a higher grade than you.

“You’re both staring at me as if I’ll burst out crying or something. Don’t underestimate me,” he sighed. It was his fault anyway, the reason this all started, so whatever you might have said or done to worsen the rumors would all be attributed to him in the first place. “But I don’t get it. At least on my end there was a reason, but as far as I know, isn’t that much just baseless?”

“Baseless?” Trey exclaimed, clearly surprised at his interpretation. “So you haven’t noticed?”

“Noticed what?”

“Ah, we can’t have our dorm leader stay clueless, can we? Try looking to your left, behind you, but do it slowly so you look casual about it.”

That meant where you usually sat, right? He deliberately sat facing away from your table so he wouldn’t subconsciously stare, but here he was, about to casually look at you—whatever a casual look even meant.

Well, Cater was the expert at things like this, right? Look slowly? He could do that.

He turned his head around, and it wasn’t long before he spotted you sitting at your usual table and in the Queen’s name, did you just make eye contact with him?

Before you could say or do anything, he whipped his head back quickly, staring down his plate of food. From the reflection of his spoon, he could tell he had turned red again, though even if he had not looked, it was obvious by the way Trey tried to cover up his snickering with unconvincing coughs.

“So cute, isn’t it?” Riddle didn’t know what or who Cater was referring to as cute , but maybe he preferred not to know something, just this once. “You get it now, right? You’re being stared at, too~ isn’t the conclusion natural?”

Were you really? He was trying not to stare at you, so obviously he wasn’t going to notice you looking if he wasn’t looking.

“It’s most likely a case of trying to figure out why I was staring in the first place,” Riddle excused, though he found it to be a very logical reason. Despite not knowing you very well, he figured you wouldn’t be the type to have feelings for someone you’ve had less than 20 conversations with, a majority of which involved the word congratulations or good job .

“Wait, why were you staring in the first place?” Trey asked, “I mean, I do have my suspicions, but Cater wouldn’t say. He was bragging about how he knew something about you that I didn’t.”

“I’ll explain later,” because talking about it in the cafeteria, he realized, was probably a bad idea. Quite honestly, he was surprised no one had learned the truth—all they had to do was eavesdrop on him. “I just don’t get it. We’re not even friends, so how are people jumping to these kinds of conclusions?”

“Because people like to romanticize everything, duh! Will they, won’t they, strangers to lovers, or maybe even a secret relationship type of beat! So shippable! ♪”

“Haah , I don’t… no, never mind. The issue is, how do I get the rumors to stop?”

“You could talk about it? With, you know, since you’re both in the same boat now,” Trey supplied, though Riddle had to disagree. He’d thought about that too, but…

“Might just worsen things. People will see it as relationship development instead,” Cater said, seemingly having thought the same as Riddle. Honestly, he just hoped he could think of something to do to finally put everything to rest. 

It’s for both of your sakes. He wanted to be able to focus on studying without thinking of you, or having people think he likes you. 

Plus, although he can’t exactly say he likes you, he still respects you as a fellow top student. There was no way you could be dense enough not to notice, and even if you were he was sure your friends would have told you about him. Surely you were bothered by it, and that you were just being nice by not chewing him out.

Actually, did you even know you fanned the flames towards the rumor?

Riddle wasn’t one to rely on fate, but perhaps he should have gotten his fortune read by Cater, and maybe then he would have been warned of what was to come exactly a week after.

He had always been good at practical magic, with the upside that it was one of the few subjects he was confident he was better at than you, so he always looked forward to attending this class in particular. However, the teacher seemed to want to change his mind.

It wasn’t unheard of to have a partner for a project, but professors usually went by alphabetical order, or just let students choose their own pairs. If not that, then some professors would put who they deemed more responsible with the troublemaker, just for one to keep the other in line. He’s had his fair share of the latter.

What he had not been expecting was having to choose a playing card from what seemed to be an incomplete standard deck, the professor clearly having taken some out to match the number of students in the class. 

“Remember, your partner will be someone from the same suit as you. For instance, two of spades pairs with three of spades, four with five, six and seven, eight and nine, ten and Jack, Queen and King.”

He looked at the card in his hand, the Queen of Hearts. Why did she look so daunting so suddenly, when he idolized her all this time?

“Riddle?”

Right. He might have not relied on fate, or even luck or karma, but he just had a feeling something like this would happen.

It was interesting how a few simple actions could blow up to something more in the eyes of others, almost fascinating to observe had he not been one of the two subjects being analyzed. At his position, it was just irritating.

“The King of Hearts,” even without eyeing your card, he would have known. Things that had him in disbelief seemed to just keep happening these days. “You should sit down, then. So that everyone else can go back to what they were doing.”

He really couldn’t help himself then, but it was truly becoming more vexing as time went on. Plus, it was difficult to hold any regrets when you seemed to agree.

“Yes, it would be bad if people couldn’t focus because of us.”

Aside from the lone cry of how unfair it was that the top two students got paired up together, it was obvious people were amused at the coincidental pairing. He turned to properly look at you—it’s been a while since he’s done that—wondering if you were irritated or flustered, but you seemed more bemused than anything.

“If the cards weren’t shuffled in front of us, I would have said the pairing was rigged,” you commented as you strolled over to him, a chair dragged with you as you sat down by his side. “Sorry. This is likely my fault.”

“No. I won’t deny that it’s worsened, but you just… everyone who escalated it to such an unreasonable degree definitely has fault as well, but I do take blame for having started it,” by staring at you in the first place, but why were you staring at me as well by the way? Even after I’ve stopped? I know it’s definitely not romantic, and you don’t seem to glare in contempt, so what do you feel towards me?

“It’s fine, I don’t really mind. Rumors just come and go.”

Well, you didn’t seem to hate him, that or you were a really good actor, but you seemed to be honest enough. Admittedly, he had his doubts about how long it would truly take for this specific rumor to go away, but he would not deny feeling less guilty. If you could ignore it, then he should have that same ability too.

“Yes, you have a point,” Riddle said with a hum, procuring himself a notebook and pen, “so, let’s get planning, shall we?”

Riddle had to admit, it was so easy to get jealous of you, but you were probably the best groupmate he would ever have. Yes, he still had his bouts of inadequacy, discontent, how you could possibly manage to contest him in academics, but with that came admiration, respect, and currently, appreciation . 

There was just something about being able to split parts equally, the way he can trust you to actually do your assigned tasks, that your research would come from reliable sources and be properly cited, and that your work would require only little corrections on his part, perhaps some suggestions. 

In the same light, receiving not merely praise, but actual well-thought out critiques from you was something he liked more than he cared to admit. Just praise, particularly about his intelligence, was normal, if not expected. Just insults (and not critiques, there was a difference) did nothing but anger him. You were not just efficient, but well-mannered.

It was nice to have someone reliable like you.

“I was listening to your debate, during history of magic,” you suddenly said, just as the two of you began discussing the next step of your project, “it was incredibly enthralling. Of course, that is to be expected considering the topic was about the Queen of Hearts’ governance, of course you know a lot about her, but it was clear you don’t just read from the textbooks, but you create your own analysis as well by comparing multiple accounts and taking into consideration perspectives of past and present. Your opponent hardly stood a chance.”

But it still annoyed him, just a bit, how likable you could be. It made him feel guilty for how he inwardly antagonized you in his head, the way he saw you as an obstacle to beat so he can claim his spot as the top student of the year. Even worse was how he couldn’t quite get rid of those feelings completely. He could forget about it for a while, but then it would just… come back.

He needed to get a grip.

“You remembered that? That was a month ago, wasn’t it?” He was sure you were referring to the time Professor Trein had them debate about the Great Seven—it was rather heated, considering every student happened to have a favorite they were particularly passionate about, and it was no surprise he chose to talk about the Queen of Hearts herself. He was from Heartslabyul and the Queendom of Roses, so was it not a given?

Still, he was proud of himself for his performance back then, even if his opponent, as you said, didn’t stand a chance.

He wondered how things would have turned out if you were the one he had to go against. How would it feel to lose, and yet have a fulfilling discussion? How would it feel to win? How much different would it feel to win and to lose if it was against you?

“But there’s no need to flatter me. Public speaking is something I’m used to, so writing speeches and reciting them comes naturally to me now.”

“Mhm? If that’s the case, then I’m glad to be paired with you. Ah, not that I wasn’t already,” you said with a laugh. It was such an odd statement to make, in a way. First of all, it wasn’t like you needed his help, you would have done well with anyone as your partner—of course you would, you had to be number one for a reason. Second, he hadn’t expected you to actually verbalize it. Third,

“Really? I thought you would want to avoid having me as your partner,” because he certainly did, “because of the rumors, specifically.”

“Oh, you’re still concerned about those?” 

Riddle liked to address the rumors as though he didn’t care about them (when he truly did), telling people off for whispering and gossiping in general, but there was a stark difference between him and you. 

With one question he could tell you never truly cared about it, like it was white noise you could simply tune out. He envied how nonchalant you seemed, the realization that he might’ve been the only one who was bothered and bothered to think about how to get the gossip to die down.

“You’re not?”

“I’m looking on the bright side is all,” you said, though he wasn’t sure what advantages there were in having people assume he liked you, or you liked him, or that the two of you were secretly dating. “But the reason I’m glad to be paired with you is that I finally have the chance to talk to you… and work together with you. I mean, we share a few classes, and we’re both top students, but we don’t really talk. I thought we’d get more chances to talk.”

While you seemed to be telling the truth, there was something artificial about your tone, causing Riddle to wonder what you honestly thought about being his partner in the first place. He didn’t want to doubt you, but he just did.

“You do have a point. We’ve never been paired up together before,” and, really, had Riddle paid that much attention to you before you landed yourself the top rank? Thinking about it now, he doesn’t remember much of you from his first year. 

“Exactly. Plus, I’ve always thought you were a good person, trying to help both your under and upperclassmen. But I’ve always just seen you do things, does that make sense? I just feel it might be nice to actually get to know you this time, don’t you agree?”

Did he agree? On one hand, he won’t deny that he’s enjoyed himself, finding it pleasant talking to you, and to add to that the project has been nothing but smooth sailing. On the other hand, becoming your partner for this project didn’t do anything to remove his jealousy, it just made him hate himself for being jealous in the first place, towards someone who’s talked nothing but kindly about him, to him.

Worse, apart from academics, he’s found other things to be jealous of.

“Yes, I’m glad the feeling is mutual,” Riddle finally replied, and then he had to remember the rumor at the worst possible time. He knew neither of you were talking about romance, but why did he have to choose that word? The word Cater used? 

“Riddle? Are you okay?”

“Yes,” not quite, but he would be, as soon as he stopped thinking about it. You didn’t care about the rumor, so he should work harder to get it out of his head as well. It would be better if he stopped caring about matters to do with you overall. “I believe I just need some fresh air. I’m not sure if you’ve heard of this before, but it’s said that pacing as you study helps you memorize things faster. For our script, it might be a good idea to—”

“Oh, that’s a great idea, Riddle!” He found himself naturally smiling at the comment, only to momentarily freeze in his seat when you continued, “Since we already have our first draft, we could exchange lines while going on a walk. We can consider this our first dry run!”

Riddle let out a noisy exhale, despite knowing it was bad manners to do so. It was a good idea, and it would certainly allow the both of you to have good chemistry while presenting, but he could just see how walking around the school together would bring more attention to the both of you. 

“Just leave your things here. No one would dare steal from you considering you’re my,” Riddle let out a small hum, “partner.”

It was a difficult affair, attempting to carry an air of nonchalance about him, but he attempted to do so anyway as he unlocked the door, allowing anyone and everyone to peer into Heartslabyul’s private studying room and just who he had been there with.

For once, it was actually silent in the dorm, although he wished the students had carried on with their usual noise and ruckus if it meant he could walk by your side without the feeling of being watched and observed, scrutinized. It was that feeling that had him subconsciously walking ahead of you, the pitter-patter of your shoes remaining behind him even as the both of you left the Hall of Mirrors, you having taken hold of his arm, or rather what of the fabric you could reach.

“You’re not the King of Hearts, are you? Try not to tug on my sleeve so much.”

“The card—never mind. The point is—” you gripped him a little harder this time, stopping your walk in the middle of a deserted hallway, “the point is that this is less pacing as much as it is you speed walking and leaving me to play catch up. Can we even memorize this properly with you trying to be two steps ahead of me all the time?” 

At the start you had tried to play your comment off like a joke, but at your failure to sound convincing you had turned to a serious tone. Though you sounded composed, it was different from your previous politeness, all except for that hint of artificiality he had detected before. An illusion had been shattered—that friendliness and kindness, while not entirely dishonest, had been enhanced to put up a distance, one that would allow you to observe him.

Riddle realized that although the reasons were not the same, you were bothered by him as well.

“I’m not trying to be,” he insisted, despite having to turn his head back to address you properly.

“But that doesn’t change the fact that you are, and that being seen with me is something so detestable,” you were hissing now, not unlike an irritated hedgehog, needy for attention and yet warning him to keep a distance. The irony of the thought was not lost on him, considering what you seemed to want was to close it. “It truly makes me wonder how people even thought you liked me in the first place.”

“You never believed it?”

“Obviously! What kind of—” as if realizing just where the both of you were standing, you tugged on his sleeve again, taking the chance to lead him into the nearest empty classroom. Maybe the both of you should never have left the privacy of the study room in the first place.

You sat yourself atop one of the desks, a good blind spot to hide away from any passersby outside. The choice had Riddle heated, not for the blatant disrespect of school property and lack of manners, but how he knew the closer he got, he would find that you would tower over him, look down on him. It was what compelled Riddle to not seat himself on a table of higher elevation, but to walk towards the teacher’s desk—if only to assert control; if not over the conversation, then himself.

“Of course I never believed you liked me! Just because you stared at me?” you scoffed, as if it was not reason enough. For Riddle, who simply accepted the unfortunate circumstances he had been placed in, thought it was a fair explanation for his staring. “You always looked so heated and angry, like you were glaring at the sun. I thought I was imagining things, but now I know you must actually hate me.”

“Except I don’t hate you. Could you not put words into my mouth?”

“Fine, if you don’t hate me then maybe you just dislike me, or being associated with me. Stop the rumors then! They’ll listen, or at least shut up about it in front of you!”

“It’s not hate or dislike, for goodness sake!” Riddle cried out, his temper and his desperation for you to understand his feelings finally getting the better of him. He strolled up to you and sat himself at the desk right next to you, suddenly uncaring of the rules and decorum. “I want to explain, I just can’t!”

“Can’t? Or won’t?”

“Can’t, ” he asserted, “not properly. I don’t know how to tell you. You won’t understand.”

“Just try me.” Although the remnants of your flames persisted in the air, the furrow of your eyebrows had lessened. “I just want to resolve this. Was it something that I did?”

Something you did? Riddle laughed inwardly, and on his tongue he tasted the bitterness he had felt all this time. It had to be the accumulation of you doing everything right.

“It’s your rank ,” Riddle began to say, already discomfited by your incredulous stare. He knew that look, he had seen it on so many people, but he was disquieted by how you of all people had mirrored it as well.

“ Grades? All this because of that? Riddle, that’s—”

“You don’t have to tell me, I already know! I don’t want to be jealous of you, and I already know it’s wrong that I feel like this when you’ve only ever treated me well, but my pride and my ego demands that I blame you for my own shortcomings, even if the truth is, I only have myself to blame.”

The words escaped his larynx like blazes, his haste to get everything out leaving him near breathless upon finishing what he had to say. Except, the more time passed he found himself not being satisfied with his explanation. Just as his jealousy had been needless, he just as much wanted to not be hated by you, to be misunderstood by you.

To say he hated, or even disliked you was so blatantly wrong because he did like you—not in the manner that people presumed, but in the sense that he wanted to be considered more than just a classmate or competitor, but your friend. 

“I respect you, and I might even admire you even more now that I’ve learned more about you, but it’s not stopping me from feeling jealous. What am I supposed to do about this?”

The setting sun might as well have risen with how much time had passed since getting a response from you, but when you finally do, you look at him not with disdain, or disgust, or resentment, or even pity. Contemplative was the word Riddle chose to describe it, like you were simply trying to understand him.

“That’s just the thing. Even if you like someone, it might not go away,” you shrugged like it was nothing, but when he tried to look at your eyes he could tell you were answering him as seriously as you could, “so there’s no one solution to something like that. Maybe if you get to know me more, you’ll stop feeling jealous, maybe not completely, or maybe I’ll be the one to find something to be jealous of when it comes to you.

“Or, who knows, maybe you’ll find a healthy way to cope with it, or maybe avoiding me once our presentation is over really is the way… but looking at you now, you don’t seem to want that either.”

He wondered just what expression he had been making for you to read his thoughts so easily. He had only begun ignoring you because he found himself becoming too aware of you, and an action of force had soon become instinctive. 

“I’m sorry,” Riddle said, not really knowing what else he could say, “I’ll make sure to make it up to you.”

“Let’s both cool off first before we even think about that,” you replied with a laugh, slipping yourself off the desk to walk towards the door. Riddle had yet to follow suit. “No more scripts or academics for the rest of the day. You should do the same as well.”

It has been a while since he had felt the need to abandon his studies so early in the day, but the redhead agreed with your sentiments, already feeling the need to distract himself with dinner before eventually holing himself up in his room to do nothing but think. 

“Just one more thing, before you go,” he said, inhaling a whole gust of wind in his nervousness, “you don’t hate me for this, do you?”

“No.” The word had come out a bit shaky, as if you were unprepared to answer him. As Riddle did not know better, he had an inkling that perhaps you were lying, to a degree, even though you’ve been far more honest with him than him with you. You wouldn’t look back at him either, even after you cleared your throat, inhaled through your nose. 

“No,” you repeated, and gone was the emotion Riddle could not describe, so quick to return to a composure he wished he possessed, “I’m frustrated is all. Let’s… reconvene tomorrow.”

He escorted you back to the study room to retrieve your things, walking not quite side-by-side, and yet horizontally aligned.

True to your word, the bouts of jealousy didn’t stop, not entirely, but the more he accepted it, the more he opened up and told you about it, the faster it subsided and gave way to something else—appreciation, and if he were to be honest, there was part adoration as well. 

Last he heard, some time after your presentation and right before the both of you chose to scold people outright, the both of you were going strong, described with a word not to be used lightly. Riddle, even now, would dare not to use that word with you, far too strong and too soon (because it seemed everything to do with you was an inevitability), but even in the mess of himself, of his emotions and things still left unresolved, he thinks he might like you. 

He will at least use the lesser word. 

In the same way that the jealousy didn’t, he did not stop finding you likeable. If anything, the more he got to know you, and actually know you instead of making assumptions about you based on what you presented in front of him, the more he liked you, the more curious he got of you. If before he simply respected your work ethic, now he admired you even outside of it.

“But why did you decide to suddenly take studying seriously?”  

“It probably had to do with me being terribly jealous of you in my first year,” you said it like you had rehearsed for that specific question everyday for the past few months, but now that Riddle had a better idea of what you were like he could tell you weren’t as calm as you pretended to be. It was with that observation that he allowed himself to freely express his shock. 

It was not that he was surprised someone was capable of being jealous of him, he’s very well aware that there are things to be jealous of, but the fact that you were had shocked him to his core.

“I’m sorry?”

“I thought you were one of those naturally smart, know-it-all snobs who looked down on everyone not as smart as them, so…” you faltered, as if suddenly forgetting your lines. “...but, you know, first impressions don’t always last. I saw how you even took the time to help your upperclassmen with studying, so I guess I just resolved myself.”

“Study to forget?”

“More like… inspired,” you supplied, hesitant with your wording as opposed to unsure of your thoughts, “instead of being, for lack of a better word, a hater, I told myself that I should just work as hard as you… I might have overdid it honestly. Do you think I’m overdoing it now?”

“As long as you’re not pushing yourself too much,” Riddle said, despite knowing he was quite the hypocrite himself. Maybe that was why you didn’t call him out for it, because you had your moments of being one as well. 

Or perhaps it wasn’t quite hypocrisy but a mutual understanding, having seen a reflection of themselves, someone they’ve been and something they’ve done in the past. Rather than hypocrisy, was it not a kindredness shared between the both of you?

“But I really never expected to surpass you or anything, and by one point too!” you sighed, and once more Riddle found himself surprised at how he felt nothing at the reminder. “Really, of all ways to get your attention. Maybe I should have broken some rules instead.”

“Why is it that you only want to draw negative emotions out of me?” Riddle joked, or at least hoped it had come across that way. “But why would you want my attention anyway? Because you wanted to be my friend?”

“Huh?” 

You had not meant to let that part slip, Riddle realized. It bothered Riddle—having to hypothesize what it possibly implied.

“Oh, yes,” you agreed, but no matter how convincing you could get yourself to sound, Riddle found it difficult to believe. “There’s that, and then wanting acknowledgement I suppose, since I was trying so hard to be as good as you. Kind of like a prize. Gratification. I thought it’d be nice if you admired me the same way I did.”

Oh . No wonder you had been so upset with him. 

“And then I just glared at you every day for a month or so.”

“Well, we’re past that now, aren’t we? It worked out for us in the end,” you laughed. This time, he was sure you were being completely honest with him. “You do admire me, don’t you?”

“Must you clarify things you already know?”

Again, he found himself envious of how you could say such things without getting as frazzled and warm and crimson as him. He tries to do the same anyway.

“I do admire you.”

He ignored the beating of his heart in order to watch you smile, as if there was nothing in the world you wanted to hear more. So this was the look of gratification, the feeling you so wanted from him. It matched you well.

“I guess there is one more reason,” you replied suddenly, “but I don’t feel like telling you right now.”

“Then when?” he pried, curious like the people of the Queendom of Roses were known to be. He only asks when, for the whys are obvious to him. Whether you tell him something good or bad, the end result will be–

“We won’t be able to focus on our revisions if we keep talking about this,” you said, conveniently bringing up your upcoming exams to switch the topic, “if we slack off any more, I wouldn’t be surprised if Azul snatched up the top spot this time around. Jamil, too. You’ve noticed his grades, right? They’re—”

“Then after exams,” Riddle interrupted, as though he had not been listening at all. He had been, it was more of him not even foreseeing anyone coming close to either one of you. You were the only one he would accept losing to, although he was sure he would come out on top this time. “We can discuss it after exams.”

“You make everything sound like it’s going to be a properly planned event, but fine. If you–if I beat you, I’ll tell you all about it. And don’t expect me to go easy on you to chicken out of it.”

“Is that so? What will you do when I rank first, then?” 

“Make up your own incentive!”

Riddle sighed. Although no one was forcing him to, he wanted to even out the playing field, just to make things fair for you. “Then let me be the one to tell you something.”

“Do you have something to tell me?”

“Not yet,” Riddle turned back to his papers, realizing he must have been staring at you for who knows how long. “Maybe by the time the results come out, I’ll know how to tell you.”

Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see you look away from him as well, trying to hold back a grin. You were excited, and if he did not know it was his alchemy notes you were looking at, he would have wondered what you were smiling at.

“Then stop staring and start studying,” you replied without so much as looking up—maybe you just felt his eyes on you, or perhaps it was a case of you staring when he was not, just like the rumors used to say. Cheekily, you added, “you can look at me later.”

“You’re so troublesome,” Riddle said, inconceivably fond. 

Perhaps a time will come where when he goes to stare at you, you’ll be staring, too, gazing with nothing but—

end notes | masterlist

[1] The King of Hearts often tugged on the Queen's skirt to get her attention. Line taken from Riddle's SR Labwear.

[2] Jealousy is difficult to get rid of. The idea that it can just disappear because you befriend someone, or end up loving someone is just untrue. If anything, I think jealousy feels worse when it's towards someone you actually like, because the guilt just consumes you. You want to stop, but how? I wanted to show how it's not that liking Reader got rid of his jealousy, but more that for himself and reader, he works on getting through it in healthier ways, and the importance of communication.

[3] In characterizing Riddle, I wanted to highlight how even though he really does try to rule with his head, a lot of the time he acts instinctively.

[4] Also, I was wondering if Riddle's thoughts and emotions were too much of a mess, but looking back at it, I decided to keep it messy. Jealousy is messy. When it comes to the reader, he really just is all over the place, from flustered, to wanting to avoid them out of guilt, to anger, to any other emotion under the sun. He's no good at sorting out his emotions, a contrast to reader who hides it (until they don't).

[5] In characterizing the reader, at first I wanted them to be pure and nice and give good advice, but the more I thought about it, I thought Riddle would be good with someone who could argue with him as well, someone who knew when to "put out the fire with water" and when to "fight fire with fire". By going for the latter, I thought it better showed Riddle and reader as equals, turning a one-sided rivalry feeling into something mutual. Similarly, reader's one-sided admiration becomes mutual.

[6] I hope people are alright with the ending. I think that the both of them still have a lot of room to grow into that, and grow as people too, but I wanted to establish that they do like each other, they (Riddle in particular) just have other things to deal with first, and hint at the inevitability of them getting together, maybe not soon but sometime later. Maybe I'll write a follow up, maybe I'll just leave it up to you.

[7] Why does the ending line cut off? Because Riddle thinks it's too strong a word for now.

[merakiui]

I’m loving the little drunk reader idea (if it’s okay with you, I would love to see what the other characters would do) but what would Cater do? I imagine that he would either get you black out drunk and film you making a fool of yourself and black mail you, he gets equally as drunk and that leads to drunken sex that you two don’t remember doing the next morning, or the usual get you stupid drunk and films himself taking you.

He would do all of those things! I like to think the drunken sex would work so well for him because he could twist it into something casual. It was just a little drunken silliness between two friends; nothing to worry about! He didn't record anything (yes he did) and he didn't cum inside (yes he did; there are pictures on his phone of his cum dripping out of your hole), so you can rest easy knowing nothing will be spread or posted online. He might even be able to convince you to do friends with benefits with him if you do vaguely remember having sex with him. Trust Cay Cay and he will never lead you astray. <3

Although I think he might get you really drunk while he remains sober (for the most part) just so he can get the best camera angles while you're giving him the sloppiest head. You won't be able to realize it through your drunken haze, but there is a completely different aura to Cater when he's filming you while you're drunk. He seems colder and even a little mean when he focuses so intensely on you, dropping his usual upbeat façade and acting more mature or serious. His eyes are colder, too. Analytical, even. He tells you you're just too cute when you're on your knees like this or when you're sinking down onto his cock. He'll take plenty of photos and videos of you in the most compromising positions. He won't share any of these; they're for his eyes only.

Come morning, you'll have been cleaned and dressed. Cater pops in with breakfast, smiling so brightly, practically chirping about how gone you were last night. You ask him if you did anything weird or awkward while you were drunk and he looks at you, still smiling, and shakes his head. You ask if the both of you did anything and again he'll shake his head. You'll believe him because he's so convincing with his lies, but all the evidence is hidden in a private photo album on his phone.

[sauriansolutions]

Based on a conversation I was having with @askbloatedbellyblog re: Cater belly kink!

For background, we'd been discussing how Cater canonically dislikes sweets, and I introduced my headcanon that he secretly gorges on savory snacks when in private.

Self indulgent silliness below the rm~

Extremely "😳" thought: 

Imagine... 

Cater has just wolfed down a huge order of loaded nachos, and is basking in the afterglow of his clandestine feast, when Riddle calls an impromptu meeting. 

Cater scrambles to clean all the tortilla crumbs and queso off his uniform and his face. Then he realizes... he's eaten so much, he can barely get his pants buckled. 

Struggling frantically, Cater stuffs himself into his clothes anyway, praying to the Great Seven that his Housewarden won't notice anything's off. 

He arrives, and... ugh, it's as he dreaded. 

Cater tries--he really tries!--to stand stiffly, still, at attention like all the others. Meanwhile, Riddle goes on and on about homework completion rates or whatever.

But. Cater's clothes are too tight. Especially his waistband. He starts shifting from foot to foot, completely stuffed full of nachos, and starting to really regret it. He feels so bloated, greasy, uncomfortable. 

Just when Cater feels like he can't stand it anymore, somebody accidentally bumps into him and he lets out this ridiculously loud mega-burp, right when Riddle's back is turned. 

Riddle whips around, face scarlet in affront. "Who did that?!" he demands to know.

Silence. 

Riddle sniffs the air, then begins to positively grind his teeth in anger. 

"And why, pray tell, does it suddenly smell like jalapenos and chili peppers in here?!"

Cater breaks out in cold sweat. On one hand... that belch just alleviated so much pressure. Yes. He really needed that! Miraculously, his pants feel like they fit now! 

On the other hand, Riddle is going to find him out, and then probably remove his head from hia body, and not even in the metaphorical sense! 

Riddle marches up and down the aisle while all stand in line at attention, drill-sergeant style, giving each "soldier" a suspicious look, and a once-over with narrowed eyes. 

Cater is about to have a panic attack right there and then, when.

Unexpectedly, Trey steps forward with a hand raised and an embarrassed smirk. 

"Sorry Riddle, that was me."

"Trey??" Riddle and several others--Cater included--gasp.

"Ahh, yeah," Trey laughs and sheepishly rubs his stomach. "See, I've been experimenting with some sweet-and-spicy recipes lately. And, uhh, the results have been a little, volatile."

Riddle draws himself up, glares at his vice prefect, then snaps, 

"Well, alright... I suppose I can excuse your indiscretion just this once! But, no more of this 'experimenting' within the Heartslabyul walls without my explicit say-so, understand?"

"Of course, Housewarden," Trey replies with a slight bow, as a few others chuckle in relief now that the tension is dispersed.

After the meeting is over, Cater runs to Trey, feeling near-collapse with gratitude. 

"Trey-Trey, omg, you're the man!" Cater grips his friend by the shoulders and shakes him, a little insistent. "Why'd you cover for me like that, though?"

Trey just gives his classic cockeyed smirk, and starts laughing quietly. 

"Cay-kun, did you realize you have queso on your chin?"

To Cater's mortification, Trey uses his handkerchief to wipe his face. 

"Hey, it's ok," Trey assures his friend in an undertone. "You're allowed to like whatever kind of food you like. Please don't feel like you need to subsist on cherry pies and sweet tea, just because you're in Heartslabyul."

"Ughh, duuude," Cater laughs, trying to play off the genuine gratitude he feels but doesn't quite know what to do with. "I know you're right, but... Housewarden Rosehearts is kind of a handful, isn't he? How do you deal with him so easily?"

At this, Trey's smug grin becomes "knowing," and, wry, he shakes his head. 

"Let's just say... I've known Riddle for quite a long time now. And in that time, I've learned the best ways to keep him appeased."

"Like how?" Cater asks. 

"Well, for example..." Trey leans in, like he's divulging a deep secret. "After today, I'm going to have to make sure I have plenty of chili-cornbread and jalapeno-honey muffins for him to sample."

"In fact, if you happen to have the time, would you care to drop by the Heartslabyul kitchen and perhaps help me bake some?"

[patchworkorphan]

The Immortal Hunter: part one

Heath stalked up the marble steps to the ostentatious mansion. The annual masquerade party was in full swing, the smell of blood permeating the air was intoxicating, and for a moment just outside the open doors Heath hesitated. Slowly closing his hands into fists and opening them again. It occurred to him that he could leave, and the idea was all too enticing.

Maybe coming here was a mistake.

“May I take your jacket, sir?” Heath looked at the servant and was glad for the red mask obscuring part of his face, it would make the night go smoother.

Though the servant wore a full faced decorated mask, through the eye holes Heath’s maroon eyes met blue ones staring back at him.

Human. Interesting.

“That’s quite alright, thank you.”

“Of course, Mr Cain. Mr Felix has been expecting you and would like a private audience as soon as you have mingled.”

“Would he now?” Heath asked, going to stand beside the servant leaning against the wall and pulling out a metal case of cigarettes.

He clicked his fingers lighting the cigarette between his teeth and took a drag, as he watched the boy from the corner of his eyes.

“What’s your name?” He asked, and the boy hesitated.

“Forgive me, Mr Cai –”

“You can call me Heath.”

“Of course. Forgive me, Heath, but with all due respect you’re a vampire… if I tell you my name- well, I’ve heard the stories.”

Heath let out a snort of laughter, looking at the boy plainly now.

“Smart boy.”

“In this line of work, I have to be.”

Heath smiled, taking a long drag then offering the cigarette to the boy.

“Do you smoke?”

“No sir.”

“Good lad. Smart lad,” Heath said genuinely, then cocked a brow. “Not smart enough to be as far as possible from a vamp party, though?”

The boy swallowed and looked away from Heath’s penetrating stare.

“What do you owe Felix?”

“Umm…”

“You don’t reek of any thrall,” Heath began, exhaling a lungful of smoke into the cool night air. “Which either means you’re in debt –”

The servant hesitated. “The party is in full swing inside, sir.”

“I’m aware,” Heath said easily, humour lacing his voice. “Full of loathful bloodsuckers like me who eat people like you. So, either- you’re one of Victor’s pets waiting to be turned, which I’m guessing not because you knew not to tell me your name… Or you owe him something. Feel free to correct me.”

The servant said nothing for a moment. Then faltered. A dip of the head. Then back to their rigid posture, head held high.

“Family?”

“How –”

“It’s always family that fucks you. Whether you like them or not,” Heath said, throwing the cigarette to the floor. Crushing it beneath his shoe. “You live a few centuries; you see the same mistakes. I’m not saying your family isn’t worth it. I’m just saying, there will be no thanks for your sacrifice. For the years you give up.”

“You say that as if you know from experience.”

Heath smiled again, winking at the servant. “Like I said, smart boy.”

With that Heath pushed off the wall, fixing his suit jacket and mask before turning to the servant, extending a hand.

“If all goes well, I hope I never see you again,” he said, and the boy looked as if he had just solved all his problems. Like his words had somehow lifted an invisible weight from his shoulders.

“I hope so too.”

Heath nodded, taking a deep breath before breaching the doors of the building.

*~*~*~*~*

“Ah, if it isn’t Chaos himself, hmm?” Heath turned and saw the familiar face of an elegant woman strutting towards him. Wicked grin painted in red, hair immaculate as always and delicate hands outstretched to greet him.

Heath took her hand and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. “Celeste, is it me or do you get more gorgeous with the centuries?”

“Oh darling, it’s not just you. I age like a fine wine.”

Heath chuckled, letting her lead him through the crowds of blood drunk vampires and love drunk fools who let the vampires tap them like maples.

“When did you get back?” she asked over her shoulder, her sultry tones carried like the word of God on a breeze, making music in his ears as they walked.

“I’m not back,” said Heath, eyes scanning the room for the reason he was here at all. “Just visiting Victor.”

Celeste laughed her beautiful laugh, both scathing and genuine at once.

“What’s so funny?” Heath asked, the Irish accent leaking out when he got defensive.

Celeste turned to Heath then, a manicured hand on his chest as she said with knowing eyes, “everyone knows what Just visiting for you means. No one can seem to get you out of that – oh what is it called again?”

“Ireland.”

“Just the same who seems to have captured your heart. Normally you have to be dragged away,” her eyes narrowed as she looked at his lips. “Just what could it be that’s piqued your interest this time?”

Heath smiled his dazzling smile at her and took her hand in his. “Can’t you just say it’s good to see me?”

“It’s good to see you,” a new voice said. Both Celeste and Heath looked to the left to see the host of tonight’s festivities.

Victor Felix stood to their left, a wine glass of blood in one hand, the familiar hint of a smirk on the corner of his quirked lip. He was dressed in a velvet navy suit, a purple cravat tucked into his wine waistcoat that matched his wine domino mask that had horns growing from the top. The devil himself.

“Felix!” Heath exclaimed, stepping out of Celeste’s arms and went to kiss each of Felix’s cheeks.

“Mio vecchio amico, it’s been too long.”

“Too long indeed.”

“We were just discussing his absence in favour of the Emerald Isle,” Celeste added walking towards the pair, her hand extended to Felix who took it and pressed a kiss to her now gloved knuckles.

“Celeste, gorgeous as always.”

Celeste just hummed, stepping back to be in line with Heath. Heath threw an easy arm around her waist keeping her close as he shot a megawatt smile at Felix.

“How have you been, Victor?” Heath asked, smile only half forced.

“I’ve been… busy,” Felix replied, looking between Celeste and Heath with golden eyes. “Where are my manners, dear boy, you don’t even have a drink! Waiter!”

A waiter appeared in less than a second, with a tray of wine glasses half full of blood. Heath took one, holding it at his side. Celeste took one too with a smile and a thank you, before taking a sip. Felix watched the exchange with calculating eyes, that same amused smile now shining in his eyes.

“I met your boy outside,” Heath said casually, and Felix looked towards him, daring him to continue. “Smart boy.”

“He is,” said Felix bringing the glass to his lips. He paused right before he took a sip, stare cutting through Heath’s and said, “reminds me of you way back when.”

“I was just about to say the same thing. Do you plan on turning him?”

Felix shrugged. “I don’t know yet. Perhaps. It’s always good to keep the sharp ones, Heath. Speaking of… I have a friend I’d like to introduce you to.”

“Do ya now?”

Felix let out a short breath of a laugh, as if there was a joke that Heath wasn’t privy to. “I do. He even asked for you by name.”

“What an honour.”

“You boys are so boring,” said Celeste, stepping out of Heath’s hold. She placed a hand on Heath’s cheek bringing him down into a short, sweet kiss and said, “come find me after you’re done doing business at a party.”

“Of course,” said Heath. Celeste looked back at Felix then.

“Don’t keep him too long,” she ordered, and Felix nodded. Then Celeste turned and disappeared into the crowd once again.

Heath looked to Felix who turned and walked into the crowd, expecting Heath to follow, so Heath did. Through winding crowds, occasionally stopping to greet someone, or someone stopping them to greet Heath and welcome him back.

“It’s good to be home, no?” Felix commented as he led him to the back of the ballroom out towards the gardens. Heath kept his head up, eyes forward.

“I’ve made my own home Felix. It was never here.”

“You wound me. After everything I’ve done for you,” Felix said with a pantomime pout.

“That boy. Outside, the human –”

Felix stopped, stepping in front of Heath, a cruel glint in his eyes. “Let me guess. You’re going to beg me not to turn him.”

Heath shrugged. “Yeah.”

“And what would you do for me?”

“Nothing. I just wanted to stop you from making the same mistake twice.”

Felix hummed, starting to walk again to the balcony overlooking the garden. When they got to the edge, Heath leaned his forearms over the rail looking out over the green expanse below. The garden was his favourite part of Felix’s mansion. It was the one place that was peaceful. When he was human, it was his brief reprieve from Felix and his orders, out in nature with the animals and the insects, the smell of the flowers calmed him. With his vampire senses, everything was too much, and the garden became too bright, too beautiful, too smelly.

“You wouldn’t like a little brother?”

“He wouldn’t like an older one more like,” said Heath taking a sip of the blood. Tastebuds tingling with iron. It was fresh. Heath hadn’t drunk fresh blood in so long.

Felix put his back to the railing looking at Heath from the corner of his eye. “I did miss you, you know,” he said quietly. “Even if you didn’t miss me.”

“Who is this person that wants to meet me? Have you been telling stories about me again?” Heath asked without missing a beat.

Felix cleared his throat, taking a sip of his drink looking back into the ballroom. “His name is Wolfe. Ah, and here he comes.”

Heath turned as Felix stepped away, going to greet Wolfe. He was tall. That was the first thing that struck Heath, that he was tall, taller than Felix. But where Felix was slim, Wolfe was broad. He was muscled to the point of being ripped under his white collared shirt and waist coat. A half smile was on his lips, stubble lined his strong square jaw that went up into his hair line where shoulder length purposefully messy hair lay perfect.

He also wasn’t wearing a mask, Heath noted, eyes narrowing slightly. A loose tie hung around his neck untied, a mask in one hand and his drink in the other.

“Felix,” his voice rumbled smooth. “It’s been too long, mate.”

English accent. Northern. That’s about as much as Heath could discern before Felix led the hulking stranger over.

His eyes were a piercing, opaque grey colour that sent Heath’s mind reeling. He listened for a heartbeat but heard none and when Wolfe outstretched his hand Heath took it robotically and felt no warmth. No pulse of blood. Yet his eyes were grey.

“You must be Cain, Felix’s boy, yes?”

“I’m Heath,” said Heath. Not friendly and not unfriendly. “You’re English.”

“Very astute. You’re Irish.”

“For the weather I am.”

Wolfe let out a booming hearty laugh, hand tightening around Heath’s with mirth. He cupped his other hand around Heath’s and pulled him in close for a hug. Wolfe swamped Heath’s frame, his strength unnatural even for a vampire and for the first time in a long time… Heath was scared.

“Good, good. The weather is shit in our parts, innit?”

“Never any sun to contend with,” Heath laughed, but at the joke or the fact that Wolfe finally released him he didn’t know.

Wolfe’s face levelled into a happy neutral expression. The same expression he walked up to them with. “Sorry about the mask, I didn’t want to greet you without you knowing what I look like.”

Heath glanced at Felix and nearly hated himself for it. Looking to Felix for a command. An order. A silent question. Does he need to take his off too? Heath decided against it because he could, because he was his own man. He didn’t need Felix to tell him what to do anymore.

“Felix told me you’re young. What is it? A couple decades?”

Heath opened his mouth, but it was Felix who answered. “He’s 149.”

Heath shot Felix a look, but Felix just smiled back like a proud father.

“Barely out of your fledgling days!” Wolfe laughed.

“Or maybe you’re just ancient,” Heath said twisting his lips into a smile. He could do this. Don’t show any fear. Play it up. It’s fine.

Wolfe laughed again, some ancient knowing settling into his eyes as he said, “maybe.”

Heath couldn’t hold the stare long, glancing at Felix beside Wolfe instead. “Felix said you wanted to chat with me?”

“Yes. I do. If you wouldn’t mind.”

“Not at all, what about?”

Wolfe fixed Heath with a pinning stare, his grey eyes enthralling Heath just a little bit to keep his attention and for a moment Heath felt his feeble humanity humming in the back of his mind. That primal fear of predator watching prey. The same look Felix set on him when he decided he didn’t want Heath to leave him.

“The immortal hunter.”

Those three words hammered through Heath’s skull, and if his heart still beat, he’s sure it would’ve beat faster at Wolfe’s confident words issued through a cool, casual tone that demanded Heath’s attention with those cold grey eyes.

Heath looked at Felix, mouth open, looking like an idiot and Felix tilted his head – a smile on his lips watching Heath squirm before stepping closer to Heath, and Heath could have preened at the familiarity of his sire so close even after he broke the bond.

“Felix told me you had history with it,” Wolfe continued, his voice a low rumbling drawl, smooth as gravel and gentle like a lion just before it was about to prance. Wolfe tilted his head regarding Heath with inquisitive eyes. “And with the old blood. The ancient blood, of course, that’s what enticed Felix to you in the first place I’m guessing.”

Wolfe glanced at Felix then. “I can still smell it on him, even after he’s turned- what was it, 140 years or so? That ancient blood is always tricky. Especially for a fledgling.”

“I’m not a fledgling anymore.”

“Not to you, perhaps,” said Wolfe eyes going back to Heath. “But when you live as long as Felix and me, a century is nothing but a blink of an eye.”

“So, what do you want with the immortal hunter?”

“Isn’t it obvious, dear boy?”

Heath’s hand tightened harder on his glass. “Obviously not.”

Wolfe hummed, bringing the glass to his lips, and swallowing a gulp of blood. Then he smiled showing his teeth and the blood staining his lips and canines nearly made Heath sick.

Wolfe looked at Felix. “I forgot how impetuous the youth of yesterday can be.”

Felix shrugged, “it can be fun to get them in line.”

“You have the patience of a saint, Felix,” then his eyes slid back to Heath, void of the humour it had been full of before. “I, however, do not.”

Wolfe took a step towards Heath and Heath took one back, his lower back pressing into the rail trapping him, with Felix on his left caging him in.

He felt so small. So weak, so human.

“We should chat, Cain. After everyone is gone, perhaps? Are you staying with Felix while you’re here?”

“No,” Heath said at the same time Felix said, “Yes.”

Wolfe grinned, a big hand clamping down hard on Heath’s shoulder. The grip turned bruising, but Heath didn’t wince. He didn’t flinch. He kept Wolfe’s cruel stare, even when Wolfe’s claws penetrated flesh and cut through his shoulder.

“I like you, Cain,” Wolfe said, withdrawing his hand. He put his mask on finally, and it felt like Heath could finally breathe again.

Wolfe looked at Felix then, “I’ll stay here too if you have a room.”

“Of course,” said Felix his eyes on Heath again. “Don’t disappear on us now, Heath.”

Heath said nothing as he pushed passed Felix, his mind swimming as he stalked back into the ballroom, downing the glass of blood before looking for Celeste. He needed to calm down and she was the only one who could soothe his nerves right now.

*~*~*~*~*

Continued Here

[dangermousie]

One of the things I really like is that underneath the extra design and mad hair, there is a lot of really dark stuff going on. Like the way Bai Cai keeps claiming he's her husband as a last ditch protection against getting raped. And his being a man, he doesn't get it right away...

But to his credit, once explained, he gets it vvvv quick and jumps to protecting her.

And it's not just once, it keeps going!!!!

And I actually find it so realistic that despite them being in that hell place, he doesn't think about that stuff constantly and automatically, the way she does because of their different gender. Like she says they will sleep together and he's puzzled until she reminds him. And then yeah, it's not really in your face, but three guards went to look for her at night clearly for rape fun.

How telling that she was only pretending to sleep and was hiding a shiv. (She's smiling because she got protected and didn't need to use it.)

PS I also do love how their different life experiences play into everything. I don't mean the gender even but she's had a hardscrabble existence and so she adjusts to the misery and tries to put up and not rile up superiors and he's not only picking up a fight over principles but while he can deal with big privations, the little ones just make him roll his eyes in displeasure. Because he's an aristo.

Dude!!! You are a slave in a mine. That's a minor point!

[chaotic-orphan]

Dec. 24, prompt: always a ball

This one is so late, but I really love these guys, so forgive me I will catch up with the other prompts

@the-modern-typewriter @the-modern-typewriter-aesthetic

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Heath stalked up the marble steps to the ostentatious mansion. The annual masquerade party was in full swing, the smell of blood permeating the air was intoxicating, and for a moment just outside the open doors Heath hesitated. Slowly closing his hands into fists and opening them again.

Maybe coming here was a mistake.

“May I take your jacket, sir?” Heath looked at the servant and was glad for the red mask obscuring part of his face, it would make the night go smoother.

Though the servant wore a full decorated mask, through the eye holes Heath’s maroon eyes met blue ones staring back at him.

Human. Interesting.

“That’s quite alright, thank you.”

“Of course, Mr Cain. Mr Felix has been expecting you, and would like a private audience as soon as you have mingled.”

“Would he now?” Heath asked, going to stand beside the servant leaning against the wall and pulling out a metal case of cigarettes.

He clicked his fingers lighting the cigarette between his teeth and took a drag, as he watched the boy from the corner of his eyes.

“What’s your name?” He asked, and the boy hesitated.

“Forgive me, Mr Cai-“

“You can call me Heath.”

“Of course. Forgive me, Heath, but with all due respect you’re a vampire… if I tell you my name- well, I’ve heard the stories.”

Heath let out a snort of laughter, looking at the boy plainly now.

“Smart boy.”

“In this line of work, I have to be.”

Heath smiled, taking a long drag then offering the cigarette to the boy.

“Do you smoke?”

“No sir?”

“Good lad. Smart lad,” Heath said genuinely, then cocked a brow. “Not smart enough to be as far as possible from a vamp party, though?”

The boy swallowed and looked away from Heath’s penetrating stare.

“What do you owe Felix?”

“Umm…”

“You don’t reek of any thrall,” Heath began, exhaling a lungful of smoke into the cool night air. “Which either means you’re in debt-“

The servant hesitated. “The party is in full swing inside, sir.”

“I’m aware,” Heath said easily. “Full of loathful bloodsuckers like me who eat people like you. So, either- you’re one of Victor’s pets waiting to be turned, which I’m guessing not because you knew not to tell me your name… Or, you owe him something. Feel free to correct me.”

The servant said nothing for a moment. Then faltered. A dip of the head. Then back to their rigid posture, head held high.

“Family?”

“How-?”

“It’s always family that fucks you. Whether you like them or not,” Heath said, throwing the cigarette to the floor. Crushing it beneath his shoe. “You live a few centuries, you see the same mistakes. I’m not saying your family isn’t worth it. I’m just saying, there will be no thanks for your sacrifice. For the years you give up.”

“You say that as if you know from experience.”

Heath smiled again, winking at the servant. “Like I said, smart boy.”

With that Heath pushed off the wall, fixing his suit jacket and mask before turning to the servant, extending a hand.

“If all goes well, I hope I never see you again,” he said and the boy looked as if he had just solved all his problems. Like his words had somehow lifted an invisible weight from his shoulders.

“I hope so too.”

Heath nodded, taking a deep breath before breaching the doors of the building.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“Ah, if it isn’t Chaos himself, hmm?” Heath turned and saw the familiar face of an elegant woman strutting towards him. Wicked grin painted in red, hair immaculate as always and hands outstretched to greet him.

Heath took her hand and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. “Celeste, is it me or do you get more gorgeous with the centuries?”

“Oh darling, it’s not just you. I age like a fine wine.”

Heath chuckled, letting her lead him through the crowds of blood drunk vampires and love drunk fools who let the vampires tap them like maples.

“When did you get back?” She asked over her shoulder, her sultry tones carried like the word of God on a breeze, making music in his ears as they walked.

“I’m not back,” said Heath, eyes scanning the room for the reason he was here at all. “Just visiting Victor.”

Celeste laughed her beautiful laugh, both scathing and genuine at once.

“What’s so funny?”

Celeste turned to Heath then, a manicured hand on his chest as she said with knowing eyes, “Everyone knows what Just visiting for you means. No one can seem to get you out of that- oh what is it?”

“Ireland.”

“Just the same who seems to have captured your heart. Normally you have to be dragged away,” her eyes narrowed as she looked at his lips. “Just what could it be that’s piqued your interest this time?”

Heath smiled his dazzling smile at her, and took her hand in his. “Can’t you just say it’s good to see me?”

“It’s good to see you,” a voice said and both Celeste and Heath looked to the left to see the host of tonight’s festivities.

Victor Felix stood to their left, a wine glass of blood in one hand, the familiar hint of a smirk on the corner of his quirked lip. He was dressed in a velvet navy suit, a purple cravat tucked into his wine waistcoat that matched his wine domino mask that had horns growing from the top.

“Felix!” Heath exclaimed stepping out of Celeste’s arms and went to kiss each of Felix’s cheeks.

“Mio vecchio amico, it’s been too long.”

“Too long indeed.”

“We were just discussing his absence in favour of the Emerald Isle,” Celeste added walking towards the pair, her hand extended to Felix who took it and pressed a kiss to her now gloved knuckles.

“Celeste, gorgeous as always.”

Celeste just hummed, stepping back to be in line with Heath. Heath threw an easy arm around her waist keeping her close as he shot a megawatt smile at Felix.

“How have you been, Victor?” Heath asked, smile only half forced.

“I’ve been… busy,” Felix replied, looking between Celeste and Heath with golden eyes. “Where are my manners, dear boy, you don’t even have a drink! Waiter!”

A waiter appeared in less than a second, with a tray of wine glasses half full of blood. Heath took one, holding it at his side. Celeste took one too with a smile and a thank you, before taking a sip. Felix watched the exchange with calculating eyes, that same amused smile now shining in his eyes.

“I met your boy outside,” Heath said casually, and Felix looked towards him, daring him to continue. “Smart boy.”

“He is,” said Felix bringing the glass to his lips. He paused right before he took a sip, stare cutting through Heath’s and said, “Reminds me of you way back when.”

“I was just about to say the same thing. Do you plan on turning him?”

Felix shrugged. “I don’t know yet. Perhaps. It’s always good to keep the sharp ones, Heath. Speaking of… I have a friend I’d like to introduce you to.”

“Do you now?”

Felix let out a short breath of a laugh, as if there was a joke that Heath wasn’t privy to. “I do. He even asked for you by name.”

“What an honour.”

“You boys are so boring,” said Celeste, stepping out of Heath’s hold. She placed a hand on Heath’s cheek bringing him down into a short sweet kiss and said, “Come find me after you’re done doing business at a party.”

“Of course,” said Heath. Celeste looked back at Felix then.

“Don’t keep him too long,” she ordered and Felix nodded. Then Celeste turned and disappeared into the crowd once again.

Heath looked to Felix who turned and walked into the crowd, expecting Heath to follow, so Heath did. Through winding crowds, occasionally stopping to greet someone, or someone stopping them to greet Heath and welcome him back.

“It’s good to be home, no?” Felix commented as he led him to the back of the ballroom out towards the gardens. Heath kept his head up, eyes forward.

“I’ve made my own home Felix. It was never here.”

“You wound me. After everything I’ve done for you,” Felix said with a pantomime pout.

“That boy. Outside, the human-“

Felix stopped, stepping in front of Heath, a cruel glint in his eyes.

“Let me guess. You’re going to beg me not to turn him.”

Heath shrugged. “Yeah.”

“And what would you do for me?”

“Nothing. I just wanted to stop you from making the same mistake twice.”

Felix hummed, starting to walk again to the balcony overlooking the garden. When they got there Heath leaned his forearms over the rail looking out over the green expanse below.

“You wouldn’t like a little brother?”

“He wouldn’t like an older one more like,” said Heath taking a sip of the blood. Tastebuds tingling. It was fresh. Heath hadn’t drank fresh blood in so long.

Felix put his back to the railing looking at Heath from the corner of his eye. “I did miss you, you know,” he said quietly. “Even if you didn’t miss me.”

“Who is this person that wants to meet me? Have you been telling stories about me again?” Heath asked without missing a beat.

Felix cleared his throat, taking a sip of his drink looking back into the ballroom. “His name is Wolfe. Ah, and here he comes.”

Heath turned as Felix stepped away, going to greet Wolfe. He was tall. That was the first thing that struck Heath. He was tall, taller than Felix. But where Felix was slim, Wolfe was broad. He was muscled to the point of being ripped under his white collared shirt and waist coat. A half smile was on his lips, stubble lined his strong square jaw that went up into his hair line where shoulder length purposefully messy hair lay perfect.

He also wasn’t wearing a mask, Heath noted, eyes narrowing slightly. A loose tie hung around his neck untied, a mask in one hand and his drink in the other.

“Felix,” his voice rumbled smooth. “It’s been too long, mate.”

English accent. Northern. That’s about as much as Heath could discern before Felix led the hulking stranger over.

His eyes were piercing and an opaque grey colour that sent Heath’s mind reeling. He listened for a heartbeat, but heard none and when Wolfe outstretched his hand Heath took it robotically and felt no warmth. No pulse of blood. Yet his eyes were grey.

“You must be Cain, Felix’s boy yes?”

“I’m Heath,” said Heath. Not friendly and not unfriendly. “You’re English.”

“Very astute. You’re Irish.”

“For the weather I am.”

Wolfe let out a booming hearty laugh, hand tightening around Heath’s with mirth. He cupped his other hand around Heath’s and pulled him in close for a hug. Wolfe swamped Heath’s frame, his strength unnatural even for a vampire and for the first time in a long time… Heath was scared.

“Good, good. The weather is shit in our parts, innit?”

“Never any sun to contend with,” Heath laughed, but at the joke or the fact that Wolfe finally released him he didn’t know.

Wolfe’s face levelled into a happy neutral expression. The same expression he walked up to them with. “Sorry about the mask, I didn’t want to greet you without you knowing what I look like.”

Heath glanced at Felix and nearly hated himself for it. Looking to Felix for a command. An order. A silent question . Does he need to take his off too?

Heath decided against it because he could, because he was his own man. He didn’t need Felix to tell him what to do anymore.

“Felix told me you’re young. What is it? A couple decades?”

Heath opened his mouth, but it was Felix who answered.

“He’s 149.”

Heath shot Felix a look, but Felix just smiled back like a proud father.

“Barely out of your fledgling days!” Wolfe laughed.

“Or maybe you’re just ancient,” Heath said twisting his lips into a smile. He could do this. Don’t show any fear. Play it up. It’s fine.

Wolfe laughed again, something ancient knowing settling into his eyes as he said, “Maybe.”

Heath couldn’t hold the stare long, glancing at Felix beside Wolfe instead. “Felix said you wanted to chat with me?”

“Yes. I do. If you wouldn’t mind.”

“Not at all, what about?”

Wolfe fixed Heath with a pinning stare, his grey eyes enthralling Heath just a little bit to keep his attention and for a moment Heath felt his feeble humanity humming in the back of his mind. That primal fear of predator watching prey. The same look Felix set on him when he decided he didn’t want Heath to leave him.

“The immortal hunter.”

Those three words hammered through Heath’s skull, and if his heart still beat he’s sure it would’ve beat faster at Wolfe’s confident words issued through a cool, casual tone that demanded Heath’s attention with those cold grey eyes.

Heath looked at Felix, mouth open, looking like an idiot and Felix tilted his head - a smile on his lips at watching Heath squirm before stepping closer to Heath, and Heath could have preened at the familiarity of his sire so close even after he broke the bond.

“Felix told me you had history with it,” Wolfe continued, his voice a low rumbling drawl, smooth as gravel and gentle like a lion just before it was about to prance. Wolfe tilted his head regarding Heath with inquisitive eyes. “And with the old blood. The ancient blood, of course that’s what enticed Felix to you in the first place I’m guessing.”

Wolfe glanced at Felix then. “I can still smell it on him, even after he’s turned- what was it, 140 years or so? That ancient blood is always tricky. Especially for a fledgling.”

“I’m not a fledgling anymore.”

“Not to you, perhaps,” said Wolfe eyes going back to Heath. “But when you live as long as Felix and I, a century is nothing but a blink of and eye.”

“So what do you want with the immortal hunter?”

“Isn’t it obvious, dear boy?”

Heath’s hand tightened harder on his glass. “Obviously not.”

Wolfe hummed, bringing the glass to his lips and swallowing a gulp of blood. Then he smiled showing his teeth and the blood staining his lips and canines nearly made Heath sick.

Wolfe looked at Felix. “I forgot how impetuous the youth of yesterday can be.”

Felix shrugged, “It can be fun to get them in line.”

“You have the patience of a saint, Felix,” then his eyes slid back to Heath, void of the humour it had been full of before. “I however, do not.”

Wolfe took a step towards Heath and Heath took one back, his lower back pressing into the rail trapping him, with Felix on his left caging him in.

Heath felt so small.

“We should chat, Cain. After everyone is gone, perhaps? Are you staying with Felix while you’re here?”

“No,” Heath said at the same time Felix said, “Yes.”

Wolfe grinned, a big hand clamping down hard on Heath’s shoulder. The grip turned bruising but Heath didn’t wince. Didn’t flinch. He kept Wolfe’s cruel stare, even when Wolfe’s claws penetrated flesh and cut through his shoulder.

“I like you, Cain,” Wolfe said, withdrawing his hand. He put his mask on finally, and it felt like Heath could finally breathe again.

Wolfe looked at Felix then, “I’ll stay here too if you have a room.”

“Of course,” said Felix his eyes on Heath again. “Don’t disappear on us now, Heath.”

Heath said nothing as he pushed passed Felix, his mind swimming as he stalked back into the ballroom, downing the glass of blood before looking for Celeste. He needed to calm down and she was the only one who could soothe his nerves right now.

*~*~*~*~*

Continued here

[audiofictionuk]

New Fiction Podcasts - 2nd December (Pt 1)

Magic and How to Fix It Audio Book Welcome to the world of Astaria, a place where magic and mayhem are always just around the corner. Experience the lives of the residents of this fantasy world as they attempt to solve their magical dilemmas. Feel free to jump in where ever you like as all episodes are entirely unique stories posted fortnightly. https://audiofiction.co.uk/show.php?id=20231121-05 RSS: https://anchor.fm/s/ea98926c/podcast/rss

Contos do Almanaque Audio Book Mergulhe no universo fascinante dos contos intrigantes. Cada episódio do nosso podcast é uma janela para um mundo diferente, onde a imaginação não tem limites. De mistérios que arrepiam até aventuras que inspiram, "Contos do Almanaque" traz uma variedade de histórias cuidadosamente selecionadas para despertar sua curiosidade e entreter. Seja durante uma pausa no dia ou no conforto do seu lar, permita-se ser transportado para lugares onde o impossível se torna real. Junte-se a nós nessa jornada pelo fantástico, pelo misterioso, pelo inesperado. https://audiofiction.co.uk/show.php?id=20231122-03 RSS: https://anchor.fm/s/ed6e3ac8/podcast/rss

“Confident Sensuality” Audio Book So this podcast is going to be a little untraditional. I wrote a book, titled, “confident sensuality.“ And on so many of my other platforms, people have requested for me to turn it into an audiobook. This is the route I’m choosing to go, because it allows me to have way more control. With that being said, this is also a zesty, delicious and steamy story. I hope you love it. https://audiofiction.co.uk/show.php?id=20231123-03 RSS: https://feeds.buzzsprout.com/2280577.rss

Timothy Truckle ermittelt | SciFi-Krimi-Serie mit Matthias Matschke Audio Drama Chicago Mitte des 21. Jahrhunderts. Timothy "Tiny" Truckle gilt als bester und eigenwilligster Privatdetektiv der USA. In einer Welt á la 1984 ermittelt er für die oberen Zehntausend. Wenn es geboten scheint, die Polizei aus dem Spiel zu lassen, wendet man sich vertrauensvoll an ihn. Zusammen mit seinem altehrwürdigen Computer "Napoleon" löst er kuriose Kriminalfälle. Ausgedacht hat sich die zu Grunde liegenden Kurzgeschichten der Schriftsteller Gert Prokop bereits in den 1970er- und 80er-Jahren. Sie waren Publikumserfolge in der DDR. Vieles von dem, was sich damals als spekulative Dystopie las, scheint heute bedrohlich nah. https://audiofiction.co.uk/show.php?id=20221127-04 RSS: https://www.mdr.de/kultur/podcast/timothy-truckle/timothy-truckle-ermittelt-100-podcast.xml

Candy Claus, Private Eye Audio Drama Santa's bastard daughter solves hardboiled Christmas crimes on the North Pole. https://audiofiction.co.uk/show.php?id=20231124-03 RSS: https://feeds.libsyn.com/494958/rss

Monsters with Mortimer: Interviews with Creatures of the Night Audio Drama Join Professor Mortimer Blackwood in this scripted fiction interview podcast as he delves into the world of monsters and creatures of the night. With a dark sense of humor and wonder, uncover the truths, legends, and secrets of werewolves, zombies, ghosts, and more. A captivating blend of horror, folklore, and interviews. Tune in to 'Monsters with Mortimer' for intriguing conversations with creatures of the night! https://audiofiction.co.uk/show.php?id=20231121-06 RSS: https://anchor.fm/s/12d73c0c/podcast/rss

Connery: The Novel Audio Book Sam Coleridge is inspired by a chance meeting with Sean Connery as a child, but the lessons he learns lead him to dark places. Connery is a speculative work of fiction by John Bleasdale and read by Cai Ross, with music by Two Minute Noodles. https://audiofiction.co.uk/show.php?id=20231123-04 RSS: https://feeds.acast.com/public/shows/conneryafiction

Dario Digital RPG Audio RPG Ciao, sono Dario e gioco di ruolo! Questo podcast riporta in versione solo audio alcune delle sessioni casalinghe ai GDR che amo di più e che potete recuperare, in formato video, sul mio omonimo canale YouTube. Spero che queste sessioni vi possano interessare, intrattenere e incuriosire tanto da voler provare voi stessi questi giochi! Ho anche una pagina Patreon e un profilo Instagram (sempre con lo stesso nome, Dario Digital RPG) sule quali pubblico contenuti grafici e spunti per i GDR che sto giocando in quel momento. Buon ascolto e buon divertimento! https://audiofiction.co.uk/show.php?id=20231120-05 RSS: https://www.spreaker.com/show/6015342/episodes/feed

Polskie RPG-owanie Audio RPG Podcasty poświęcone grom fabularnym, czyli tzn. tabletop RPG, gdzie gracze wcielają się w różne rolę. Znajdziesz u nas kampanie, przygody, jak i tzn. jednostrzały czy to Wiedźmin Gra Fabularna, Cyberpunk RED i wiele innych systemów. Prócz typowych rozgrywek RPG, od czasu do czasu na luźno pogadamy sobie po prostu o grach fabularnych i nie tylko. Zapraszam serdecznie. https://audiofiction.co.uk/show.php?id=20231125-01 RSS: https://anchor.fm/s/ed7871a0/podcast/rss

Boss Monster Adventures Audio Drama It's tough to be the boss. And even tougher to be a Boss Monster. Based on BOSS MONSTER, the hit tabletop game by Brotherwise Games with over 1 million copies sold, Boss Monster Adventures follows Kid Croak, son of the most fearsome boss in the Overworld, on a quest to replace the magical crystal that powers his fathers' trap filled Final Castle. Joined by cool vampire, Draculad, and ever-loyal brain in a jar, Cerebella, the three venture out into a world of pesky heroes, dangerous dungeons and life-changing secrets. Inspired by popular fantasy and videogame conventions, Boss Monster Adventures is filled with 8-bit music, easter eggs and epic adventure that both old school fans and modern listeners will enjoy. Starring Noah Bentley (Dragons: Rescue Riders), Tristan Chen (Turning Red) and introducing Madeleine O’Neal. https://audiofiction.co.uk/show.php?id=20231115-04 RSS: https://feeds.megaphone.fm/bossmonsteradventures

#Traffick’d by AR Audio Book Welcome to the audio platform for #Traffick’d! A online short story series about a stripper from Toronto and her pimp. On this platform you’ll find audiobook versions of the episodes, group discussions and thoughts from our readers and author. https://audiofiction.co.uk/show.php?id=20230930-03 RSS: https://anchor.fm/s/e9873d60/podcast/rss

A Queda de Ingonish Audio Drama Algo castiga os habitantes de Ingonish... se pecaste, tem cuidado. 1567. Ingonish, Canadá. Inês é uma colona relutante, forçada a abandonar os Açores com Bartolomeu, o seu marido diácono, à procura de uma vida melhor. Mas a primeira colónia falhou e Inês teme o mesmo destino: falta de recursos, frio glacial, fome. Quando uma série de assassinatos ritualísticos começam a ocorrer na colónia, Inês ganha finalmente um propósito: encontrar o monstro e proteger a sua comunidade. Mas o resto dos colonos suspeitam de bruxaria e questionam o facto de Inês não ter filhos assim como a sua ligação com as vítimas. À medida que as mortes se multiplicam e a colónia se aproxima da ruína, Inês terá de fazer tudo para se salvar… ou então, arderá na fogueira. https://audiofiction.co.uk/show.php?id=20231129-01 RSS: https://www.spreaker.com/show/6017308/episodes/feed

Re-wake Audio Drama The great glowing rings in the sky are just that. The eyes always watching do not exist. Re-Wake is a science fiction podcast about a radio station in the world of Xarasiund, where horrifying, weird, and fun events take place! https://audiofiction.co.uk/show.php?id=20231125-02 RSS: https://anchor.fm/s/ed6b6ec4/podcast/rss

Whispers of the Lost World Audio Drama This captivating series follows the exciting journey of a diverse group of international students who are inadvertently attracted into the maze-like attic that conceals a mysterious secret—a covert portal to the hidden worlds of time. Their intense curiosity sparks unanticipated mayhem that propels them through the gaps in time itself, where the past and present collide sharply. A wild turn of events propels them into the chaos of World War II's core. https://audiofiction.co.uk/show.php?id=20231127-01 RSS: https://feeds.buzzsprout.com/2281646.rss

The Draconian Universe Audio Book The Draconian Universe is a space to be lost within the world of fiction. Here you will find Audio Dramas written and produced by Black women and men, highlighting the diverse talent within the black community. We are more than our struggle. We create and we imagine. https://audiofiction.co.uk/show.php?id=20231128-01 RSS: https://feed.podbean.com/draconianuniverse/feed.xml

[foxghost]

Joyful Reunion

Translator: foxghost @foxghost tumblr/ko-fi1 Beta: meet-me-in-oblivion @meet-me-in-oblivion tumblr Original by 非天夜翔 Fei Tian Ye Xiang Masterpost | Characters, Maps & Other Reference Index

Book 5, Chapter 48 (Part 3)

Han Bin has been in the Eastern Palace for an entire day. It is now afternoon. Cai Yan is beyond haggard.

“That’s everything,” Cai Yan says. “If there’s more, then even I can’t remember them.”

After Cai Yan has finished telling Han Bin everything, he actually lets out a long sigh of relief. He leans back in his chair, as though having exhausted the last of his life force. There is no one else here anymore, only himself — and he’s no longer the crown prince of Great Chen, only himself.

“Your Highness.”

“Call me Cai Yan. It’s been a long time since anyone’s called me by that name.”

“I have an idea.” Han Bin rises from his chair. “As long as you’re willing to cooperate with me, you can continue to go on living.”

Cai Yan’s eyes widen at his words. Just then, a subordinate comes in to tell Han Bin something. Han Bin says, “Envoys from Yuan, Liao, Xiliang, and Tuyuhun are here. They’re right outside the city.”

Cai Yan says, “Don’t let them come in.”

“No,” Han Bin says. “We must let them in.”

“Duan Ling will no doubt follow them into the palace!”

“Let him in then. I’d like to see what Li Jianhong’s son is capable of, actually.” He says to his subordinate, "Get a message to Xie You. Tell him to bring the envoys to a place between the inner and outer city, and he is not to leave any Black Armours troops behind.

“In the meantime, you just have to stay put,” Han Bin says to Cai Yan. “I will convene an official court assembly tomorrow. Whether you live or die is all going to depend on how well you cooperate.”

Upon leaving the Eastern Palace, Han Bin passes through the rear hall and notices Mu Kuangda and Mu Jinzhi sitting across from each other inside the room.

“If we may speak in private,” Han Bin says to Mu Kuangda.

“Say what you’re here to say, General Han,” Mu Jinzhi says calmly. “We’re all in the same boat now, so what’s the point of trying to keep things from me?”

Han Bin smiles. “Empress Dowager, you’re with child. I just didn’t want to worry you overmuch.”

Han Bin sits down on the floor. Mu Kuangda says, “Did I hear right that the diplomatic delegation here to give their condolences is already outside the city?”

“That is so,” Han Bin replies. “As for the four great assassins including Chang Liujun, as well as your apprentice Wang Shan, there is still no word of them as of this moment.”

Mu Kuangda has a rather complicated expression on his face. “If that really is true, then Yao Fu and Xie You must be planning something extraordinary. It’s been days already and we haven’t heard a thing.”

“Oh no,” Han Bin replies. “Xie You and Yao Fu have already sent a jointly signed letter. They want to negotiate with us.”

“What are the terms of these negotiations? I’m sure it won’t be so simple.”

“It’s nothing other than asking me what I want in return for leaving the city. But now that things have come to this, the outcome is hardly up to just you and me. Chancellor Mu, for tomorrow’s morning assembly, you must summon the court officials as soon as possible, and settle this threat before His Majesty’s funeral.”

Mu Kuangda hums an affirmative. “But once we blame him and Yao Fu for this, the aftermath is sure to be a pain to deal with.”

“Reinforcements are on their way.” Han Bin rises. “If everything goes as planned, they will be here by tomorrow evening. And now I’m going to greet the delegations from the four nations.”

Thus said, Han Bin rises and leaves, leaving Mu Kuangda and Mu Jinzhi behind. Mu Jinzhi stares after Han Bin’s receding figure and says quietly, “You have essentially invited a wolf to dine.”

“We were out of options. It was our last resort,” Mu Kuangda says. “Once Han Bin disproves that kid’s identity, he will find some way to get rid of me. But he would not dare exterminate my clan, so when that time comes, both you and the child will survive.”

Mu Jinzhi doesn’t say a word.

“You’re the empress dowager, and you have the ostensible heir of the Lis.” Mu Kuangda says unhurriedly, “He will let you live. All you have to do is feign civility until your child is grown. It won’t be too late to deal with him then.”

Mu Jinzhi lets out a sigh, looking miserable.

At nightfall, it’s all quiet both in the inner city and outer city. Behind the city walls, a curfew is in effect, and every house on both sides of the street has its lanterns lit; meanwhile, outside the city, the only light comes from Xie You and the Black Armours’ encampment.

Several hundred people are gathered on the avenue between the outer city and inner city, while the Black Armours are just two hundred paces out, with Xie You staring at the district in the distance. Soon, a corner gate next to the main gates of the inner city opens slowly.

“What is the meaning of this?!” An envoy’s voice is shouting, “We’ve come all this way to pay our respect to your late emperor, and you’re just going to open a side door for us?! Who do you think we are?”

“Everyone,” a messenger standing on the wall of the inner city says, “Great Chen has just gone through a radical change, and lest this opportunity is exploited by those with ulterior motives, we’re asking everyone to use this side door. If our actions should offend, many apologies!”

From the corner gate, almost a hundred Northern Command soldiers pour out, ready for battle, staring at a point in the dark. At the end of the road, the Black Armours troops shine the light of their torches to illuminate a small area.

“Let’s go,” Yao Fu says.

Xie You steers his horse around and leaves with Yao Fu.

Duan Ling is standing among the Mongolians in the Yuan delegation, with Shulü Rui standing not far ahead of him. The Liao delegation is going through first, then Yuan, and after that, Xiliang and Tuyuhun, moving through the corner gate one by one.

In a clearing past the walls, almost a thousand Northern Command soldiers surround them, ready to search the envoys. Batu stands in front of Duan Ling like a shield, and everyone is standing together.

“What is the meaning of this?” When they’re about to search Batu, he draws his sabre. Amga, Helian Bo, and those standing with them follow suit, at once forming an opposing force against the Northern Command.

“Anyone who enters the palace must disarm and submit to a full body search!” The messenger shouts.

Batu says, “If any of you dare touch us, I don’t think there’s any need for more chatter. Let’s just fight! Draw your weapons!”

The diplomatic delegation had been furious to begin with, and now they’ve all suddenly drawn their weapons. This isn’t something that a messenger can resolve, and he dispatches another messenger back to the palace for more instructions. Soon, they get a response telling them there’s no need to search the leaders of the delegation — just let them in for now.

Duan Ling puts a hand on Batu’s back to signal calm, and only then does Batu orders his people to sheathe their weapons.

Soldiers of the Northern Command mount their horses again, and escort the delegation to the palace.

In the dark, there is a splash in the moat. Ten boats quietly glide through secret waterways into the city, steered by the soldiers in black they contain. It has already been many years since anyone used these waterways; through many twists and turns they snake into a subterranean river beneath Jiangzhou, and by the time it exits from the river again, the soldiers find themselves right in the storm sewers in the eastern district.

A patrolman is making the rounds by the shore. Suddenly, a single black arrow flies out from the boat, and without making a sound at all, the person this arrow hits fall to the ground.

Bow in hand, and dressed in a set of warrior black robes, Wu Du turns to look all around him.

“General, we’re already in the city,” a soldier says quietly. “The eastern district isn’t far from here.”

“We’ll go just past the eastern district before going ashore,” Wu Du commands. “Beware of patrols.”

Duan Ling follows Batu at an appropriate distance on horseback. All around him, many people dressed in black have already landed on the roofs, leaning over to observe every move of those on the street.

Duan Ling only has to look up slightly to notice that a slender silhouette is standing starkly against the moonlight diagonally ahead of him. In the blink of an eye, the silhouette flickers and is gone.

That’s Wu Du. Duan Ling understands the silent message — Wu Du will be trailing him like a shadow.

In front of the palace, everyone removes their weapons and places them in a box outside. A guard seals the box and takes them into the palace.

It’s actually the first time Duan Ling has ever entered this imposing palace through the main entrance. As they pass through the Meridian Gate, the vastness of Jiangzhou’s Imperial City seems overwhelming, and even moonlight does nothing to mask its awe-inspiring grandeur.

The last time he saw Wu Du, he had been on the roof of the Hall of Supreme Harmony; the next instant, clouds had rushed in to cover the moon.

“Please head to the side hall for a bit of rest for now,” says the army’s messenger. “General Han will host a welcoming banquet for everyone in a little while.”

Thus the messenger guides them to a side hall in the palace, and after doing a headcount, sends soldiers to keep a tight watch on them, putting layers of impenetrable security around the hall. Then twenty or so eunuchs are sent in to wait on them in name, but to keep an eye on them in reality.

Batu, Helian Bo, Yelü Lu, Tenzin Wangyal, and Duan Ling are all gathered in the hall, but due to the eunuchs’ surveillance, they actually can’t talk about anything at all.

Duan Ling was going to speak with them in Khitan, but on second thought he decides on Mongolian instead. “It’s alright. They can’t understand us.”

It’s unlikely for anyone to know Mongolian in Jiangzhou’s palace, but everyone here more or less knows some. Yelü Lu says in Mongolian, “Before we left Zhongjing, His Majesty had instructed us to follow your orders when we get to Jiangzhou.”

“Tenzin and I will follow your orders as well,” Helian Bo adds.

Even though Batu doesn’t declare his position outright, he stares at Duan Ling and asks, “What do you want to do?”

“We must first get rid of these bothersome people. Tell your people to … yeah, you get it.”

Once Duan Ling has given the order, all these foreigners in the diplomatic delegation sit down to have tea, and start groping the eunuchs — some of them are even more boorish than that, and skip the preliminaries, pushing the eunuchs to the floor and getting ready to do the deed.

“What are you people doing?!”

“Doing eunuchs. What, you think you can stop us?” Batu replies.

Northern Command soldiers open the door to find the room in great turmoil. Eunuchs live like princes, bossing people around year in and year out, so there’s no way they’ve ever met with such treatment. All of a sudden they’re all screaming for help and running outside. The palace maids tremble at this sight and go into hiding.

As things are at their most chaotic, the messenger comes in and shouts for everyone to stop. Lest this devolves into an incident, he orders all the soldiers out of the room, asking only for tighter security at the doors, and doesn’t send people in to watch them anymore.

Duan Ling’s opportunity’s come knocking. He goes to the window near the back of the hall and opens it, waiting for a patrolling guard to walk past before throwing a grappling hook to the roof and leaping right onto the tiles.

“Quickly!” Helian Bo pulls Batu up as well. Yelü Lu and Tenzin Wangyal follow them soon after. Tenzin is quick and nimble, clearly someone who is used to monkeying around on a regular basis.

“Tenzin, you’d better …”

Tenzin can tell Duan Ling is concerned about him, and he makes some signs with his hands and says something. Helian Bo says, “He too … climbs—climbs the Potala … to see the Lama.”

“Alright,” Duan Ling says. “Then let’s split up here. Be careful.”

After they finish discussing what to do, they wait for the clouds to cover the moon completely before splitting up into two groups. Yelü Lu, Helian Bo, and Tenzin Wangyal to the east; Batu and Duan Ling to the west.

Duan Ling walks carefully on the roof tiles. Halfway through, he almost slips off, but Batu is quick on his feet and grabs him before he falls.

“What on earth are you thinking about?” Batu says.

“Sorry.” Duan Ling is inevitably distracted as he’s about to face such a critical juncture in his life; his head is filled with all of the things he’ll have to do after this.

“What I meant was,” holding onto Duan Ling’s arm, Batu leaps off the low roof and comes into the imperial garden, where they hide behind the footpath to wait for the soldiers to pass by, “what on earth is making you work so hard to come back here?”

“There had been several occasions where I thought I would die.” Duan Ling stands in the dark with Batu, side by side, looking out. “I didn’t give up on myself when I ran from Shangjing because I thought my dad was still alive. But when I returned to Xichuan, the reason I didn’t try to kill myself again was because of Wu Du.”

Batu stands there silently. Patrolling guards are getting near them, so they stay quiet for a while. Then, Batu says, “It wasn’t because of me.”

“It was, once,” Duan Ling says.

Those words seem to give Batu some comfort, but then Duan Ling is adding, “Far from you in the south, I once hoped that you would go on living too. But all of this was caused by your people. I can only say that I … I did my best not to hate you.”

“Never mind,” Batu says. “We’re just going around in circles, and we only ever end up at the starting point.”

Looking at Batu, Duan Ling thinks he both loves him and hates him sometimes. He really does cherish their friendship, and he knows Batu is one of the few people in the world who’d give his life to protect him. But due to their nationalities and conflict, they have no choice but to stand in opposing camps.

“Let’s go.” After a brief moment to think, Duan Ling detours around the long gallery with Batu and heads toward the imperial gardens.

Batu remains on high alert. Duan Ling is now outside the imperial study. The room looks well-lit, and Duan Ling isn’t sure who’s in there, Cai Yan or Han Bin. He stays quiet and listens.

Two Northern Command soldiers are guarding the door. Should I take my chances? Duan Ling thinks.

This translation is by foxghost, on tumblr and kofi. I do not monetise my hobby translations, but if you’d like to support my work generally or support my light novel habit, you can either buy me a coffee or commission me. This is also to note that if you see this message anywhere else than on tumblr, it was reposted without permission. Do come to my tumblr. It’s ad-free. ↩︎

[trenphimdang]

artist spotlight | Ngọt

Ngọt is a four-member pop rock from viet nam formed in 2013. they continue to push the boundaries of viet nam's musical landscape with their unique sound and music. their songs are rich in nostalgia that cause listeners (me) to melancholically yearn for a distant past; like a sweet dream you abruptly wake up from, forgetting exactly what happened but remembering the feelings that did happen. Ngọt captures this exact feeling well in their music.

Mấy Khi (2022)

this is the song that got me into Ngọt. Mấy Khi, or "once in a while," (note: this phrase is difficult to translate so i am giving you the gist of what it means) is a song that celebrates the feeling of liberation and freedom, unrestricted by the stresses from life. in the true ethos of punk music, this song resists and opposes oppressive institutions. the group disparages the value of money, by first indicting the debilitating stress of not ever having enough money and the stress of debt in this late-capitalist world and second, mourning the little time we have with the people we love in life.

"mình không mấy khi gần nhau lâu" (i won't directly translate this line into english as i believe doing so would be negligent of the beauty of this line) this line essentially asks "when is the next time we will be together?" i love that this song both grapples with the suffering under a capitalist world yet also illuminates viable ways of living: to love, to cherish, to be free. and thus, my love for this group began.

LẦN CUỐI (2019)

i would be deeply remiss, even disrespectful, to not honor this song with its own section. if i had a dollar for every time i listened to this song and dropped to my knees, eyes wet, clutching my heart ululating the second chorus, i would have enough money to rent out the largest music stadium in asia for a private concert. i can only dream of experiencing this song reverberate across a stadium both lacerating the walls and healing it with its painfully sweet lyrics. LẦN CUỐI, or "LAST TIME," is a requiem for a freshly ended relationship; two people resigned to a failed relationship scratched with unforgettable pain yet sutured together by moments of deep love and care. lần cuối is not only a song but a painting.

my knees go weak when the soft lines "cay đắng nhưng không đau," or "bitter but it does not hurt" echo in my ear. translation does not capture the resignation, the moment of reluctant acceptance of letting go, of release. it is about holding memories of love and pain close to our hearts to simultaneously remember and to let go.

this song embodies the genuine spirit of "i am sorry."

afterword

i hope this post encourages you check out Ngọt. if not, i hope this post offers you some insight into the diverse musical landscape in viet nam.

as always, thank you for reading. i greatly appreciate your time and attention. 

with warmth,

phim

p.s all these songs can be found under the "phim's playlist" tab on the homepage. the link will redirect you to a youtube playlist :)

[theartistknownaslymond]

Whumptober 2022 day 2

Nowhere to Run: Cornered | Caged | Confrontation

---

Oonagh and Cai (Khaireddin) on the ashram. References to Oonagh's ED, plus her imprisonment and Geetesh's manipulation of Cai.

Went hard one day 1, had barely any time/inspiration on day 2, rip and apologies! I'm not happy with this but it's done and I had fun comparing Oonagh to the Morrígan at least.

---

Now and again she was allowed to see her son, and it was the only thing that kept Oonagh O'Dwyer eating. For nine months after his birth he had at least been kept close by, and every few days Oonagh had been granted an audience in a sound-proofed room at Swami Geetesh's private residence. But then, as her son learned to crawl and toddle, as he began to blossom with an interest in the world, he had been taken and left among the other young children whose presence on Geetesh's ashram was a mere distraction from the spiritual path of the adults. Volunteers minded the infants in the nursery, but Oonagh was never allocated such work - she was honoured to labour in the service of Swami Geetesh himself, in the house he imprisoned her in, where he could keep a close eye on her spirit to ensure it remained small and acquiescent. On the occasions when Geetesh entertained rich donors and couldn't have her around the place - silent and furious, a walking denial of the healing he claimed to offer - she was banished to the kitchens, where her appetite dwindled further in the face of stacks and stacks of dirty plates and greasy pots to wash.

No one on the ashram knew who Oonagh was anymore, no one was left who remembered her pregnancy and her plans to go to Vegas for the birth. No one who knew that, before she was called Ma Daso - the servant - her name had been Oonagh O'Dwyer. She had been supermodel, singer, lover of the superstar Lymond. She had survived the tyranny of Cormac O'Connor before she had survived this.

But earlier, when she had meant to leave this place, she had been sun-tawny and strong, her edges smoothed by happiness, satisfaction, and the health she had learned to maintain for the sake of the child she carried. Now she looked in the mirror of the little bathroom in her attic prison and saw a ghoul: dry black hair starting to show grey wisps - like ruffled feathers - cheeks too hollow, skin too pale and patchy, eyes frenzied and accusatory. Her lips were dry, always troubled by blisters or spots, uneven and bloodied where she picked at them with soft, flaking nails. She looked like a deity whose temple had been slighted; a war grave that had been desecrated; an omen of death.

But when she was with Cai, she laid all that aside - for a few brief minutes once every so many days, or weeks, her captor let her watch over her child, and she made herself glow during that time. Just seeing him was like feeling a tug on the life-belt tethering her to existence. She wouldn't let herself drown while he lived, while a future existed in which she might escape, with Cai, and forge the life she had promised herself.

She never saw another sannyasin at the nursery when she was there - only Geetesh, who watched silently, with contemptuous expectation.

Oonagh wondered, with her own measure of contempt, whether he thought she might one day not recognise her own child in amongst the other toddlers - as if she would ever mistake him for another when she had already spent so many months wondering whether the baby she bore would be the stout, heavy-browed child of bruising colonial traumas, or a poet's changeling, delicate and defiant as the astrantia that had flowered beneath the trees in the month she was due to leave the ashram for the birth.

When she'd met Cai and seen his father's long mouth and delicate brow, his fair complexion and long limbs, she knew she had met someone unforgettable.

Cai was hers and he was a gift from a much-loved friend, not, in fact, a memento from a hellish period of her life that Cormac O'Connor might choose to be litigious about. Cai was hers and no matter how firmly Swami Geetesh referred to the boy as Kailam, his plaything, Oonagh knew, as carrion birds already know the outcome of battle, that Cai was hers.

He had been shy within the group at first. He had known her voice and cleaved to it - crawling across bare floorboards or dry sand to reach for her red linen skirts.

Geetesh had forbidden her from picking him up, but when she spoke to Cai it seemed to amuse him. She'd murmur words of confidence in Irish, and Geetesh would look at her like she was simple.

"Misneach, mo chroí," she told her son. She promised that they would leave together one day, and never wear red again.

And then Cai had stopped coming to her. Geetesh made Oonagh wait longer between visits. And when she arrived, Cai was only as interested in her as the other children were. Less so, in fact. She knew him, always, but Geetesh's contempt turned into amusement as he watched her try to speak with the boy.

Cai had no time for her voice any longer. What return did it bring him? What gratification? Cai saw another child playing with a toy he wanted and he took the toy - Geetesh laughed and praised him. Cai stamped brazenly up to Geetesh and held a hand out. His demands were made - monosyllabic, steeped with certainty - and Geetesh laughed, praised him, and rewarded him with some treat or other from the pockets of his pink linen robes.

If Oonagh objected, the meeting would be cut short. She would be escorted away, Geetesh's large hand pinching tight around her skinny arm.

"Ma Daso, do not interfere," Geetesh warned her, bundling her back inside his car.

"What in hell's name are you doing to him?!" Once, in pure frustration, the question had escaped her.

Geetesh stared down at her from the other side of the car door. Oonagh fought the urge to slam the lock down, as though it would do anything to stop him when he had the keys in his fist.

"He is learning how to transcend the petty limitations we impose upon ourselves," Geetesh said quietly.

"You're turning him into a little psychopath!"

He chuckled. "No, Daso. I am giving him freedom - of course, if you no longer wish to see him, all you need do is tell me."

She swallowed. Her fists clenched in her lap and she searched the icy depths of Geetesh's eyes - whatever she saw there, it still wasn't the same as what she saw in Cai. Cai was hers. Geetesh could give him all the freedom he wanted, but that child - unlooked for, unplanned - was hers, and she would never let it be forgotten.

[piraticusdorm]

May i offer Cai and Max for the dynamic question 6? 👁️👁️

6 - How do they react to casual eye contact? Do they tend to initiate or avoid it?

Cai very much likes glancing at Max. He's too nervous about being caught staring, but he likes noticing the subtle changes in Max's face and body language. When their eyes meet Cai is quick to look away, but he'll look back pretty quickly too. He craves being seen by Max, despite the nerves.

In private and after some time, Cai will love just looking into Max's eyes. Noticing how the shade changes with the lights, the tiny details, smiling without realising. Cai might also just get lost in them and forget they're in public which embarrasses him a lot.

I do feel both can talk with just one look too! Private conversation no one else is invited to ❤️

[fakesurprise]

“So we need to press some kind of attack?” Cai said.

Opal nodded. “That’s how it feels. But where, when and how is nothing I know. The forest of choices is too damn broad and I’m – stretched thin.”

I let out a breath and squeezed her hand. “We all go to school tomorrow. If things go badly....” I looked at Greer. “How often do you practise being me?” A moment later, I was looking back at me. Greer’s eyes danced with joy. “Every night when I’m not here,” my voice said, in a sultry tone I’d have never imagined in a hundred years.

“... I didn’t think I would have nightmares tonight,” Cai said, “but here we are.”

Greer shifted back into their school-shape. “In seriousness, I can trick officials easily. Friends know my eyes, and know me. So do your enemies. Not that I’m objecting to fun, but it won’t be as easy as you’d think to avoid harm or consequences.”

“I’d never ask you to do that; more than be being in more than one place could add to confusion in interesting ways.”

“That, I can do.” Greer stood, stretching. “I’ll fly about the area, meet you tomorrow?”

I stood, kissing Greer hard on the lips before they shifted into a bird. “Thank you. For being you.”

Greer’s smile was soft and private, then their eyes danced with joy and a crow flew out the window moments later.

“Some days I have questions about your relationship,” Cai said, deadpan.

I grinned. “Mom asked for details just the once. She never tried again.” Opal’s eyes widened. “Okay, that is a trick greater than magic.”