#did any of this make ANY sense like just out of curiosity. clap if it made sense.

[charlesemersonwinchesteriii]

If you already got this from someone and you just haven't answered yet pls ignore, but if no one else asked i want to add klinger+charles for the relationship bingo ask meme

ok I’m getting to this late as FUCK but PLEASE nobody ever hesitate to send me something for an ask game if I get one ask on a topic I will go YIPPEE and if I get 20 asks on the same topic I will go YIIIIIPPPPPEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

Anyhow you're indeed the only one around here who shows outside interest in our rarepair insanity, a boon I will remember as long as I live btw. Mx. Smoking Marlene Dietrich I owe you the WORLD

TRIPLE BINGO because they are EVERYTHING. to me.

It’s funny. This is the one duo where I almost do just want to post the bingo and leave it at that. Part of me wants to tell people about this ship SO bad, to give novel-length explanations and justifications and theses. But the other part of me is like you know what. You either Get It or you don’t.

Anyways there are 10000 things to say about Them but one is: I specifically did not fill in “gay af to have a sworn rival” even though it cost me another bingo because one of the most fascinating things about the interactions between these two is that they actually do not have a mutually adversarial relationship--even though that’s what writers usually do with two characters on diametrically opposite ends of the socioeconomic spectrum. 

I’ve been thinking about this a bit because I’ve seen people say things like, “It’s great what a funny duo they turned into when they started out hating each other, haha.” And I get why one would think like this but IMO it’s actually not the case! Charles acts more familiar with Max over time because he does that with everyone--

(Though he’s racist towards Max throughout, of course. Because Charles’ racism never goes away. You know that right. MASH fandom I am putting my hands on your shoulders and asking: You know that, right? I keep seeing people talk about Charles having a character arc and a redemption arc so I’m just. I’m just making sure.)

--but Max has actually been pretty nice to him right from the start, back when Charles’ relationship with basically every character was antagonistic. As soon as s6e13 he tells Charles how similar they are, how they should work together to try and get away from the war, how they’re “soulmates”. Even after Charles insults him, he straight up says, “I’m on your side, Major”, which I’m pretty sure remains one of the nicest things someone canonically says to Charles, ever. Just one scene, but emblematic of a greater whole, of quite a few future scenes where Max gamely engages with Charles even when it puts him in unpleasant situations.

And of course, the motivation the show usually gives, on those occasions when it thinks about Maxwell’s motivations at all, is a simple throwaway “Well Charles is paying him / giving him some other material benefit, so obviously Klinger will be his kicked dog! You all know how Middle Eastern people are! We are a groundbreakingly progressive show btw.”

But man. Fuck that shit. This is far afield of my original point but the thing is, Max’s interactions with Charles are often the most egregious exempla of every way the later seasons fucked over my girl here. It almost seems useless to try to analyze any of Max’s actions after a certain point from a Watsonian perspective, when the Doylist reading of the show being too racist and stupid to do anything coherent with him is the ultimate explanation, and sometimes the only explanation you can even come up with, because shit just makes NO fucking sense in-universe. 

But unfortunately I’m a stupid cringe ass fanfic writer/reader, and I love this character, and Max already gets so little screentime compared to the main protagonists, and I don’t want to just ignore him because of the decisions of writers who didn’t care about him.

(That’s the entire reason I started shipping this stupid thing in the first place, btw. I just wanted to read some fanfic where Max is the main character and idk if you’ve noticed but if it weren’t for AO3 user stateofintegrity and their ~problematic cringe ship~, the pickings would be pretty fucking slim.)

So I like to pretend there’s a better reason for Maxwell going from “Major Burns I hate you so fucking much I am going to kill us both with this fucking grenade” to the equivalent of a tumblr blog responding to pathetic anon hate with “are we about to have sex”. After all, if you’re going to write Maxwell yourself, get inside his head and all, then you also have to account for why he tolerates all the OTHER characters’ racism towards him in later seasons, too. 

And the messy problematic reasoning I come up with is that Max is at heart the kindest and also most emotionally intelligent character on the show, and even the liberalized version of the 1950s our story is set in is a systemically bigoted universe that is all he’s ever known and experienced, and he’s certain these are good people, really, when it matters. And being emotionally intelligent, and generally intelligent too for that fucking matter, and observant and insightful, he can tell there’s a big difference between Frank and Charles, and perhaps less of a difference, even, between Charles and Hawkeye. Maybe when you watch things from Hawkeye’s POV, the ideological and moral differences between him and Charles are huge, but maybe if you were in Max’s POV instead there wouldn’t be quite as much of a distinction between them. I don’t know! I don’t know. Just some ideas, I don’t know. 

Of course getting into fucking. internalized racism and such is pretty uncomfy and exhausting shit. And that’s not even touching all the gender stuff my girl has going on. You start to see why nobody wants to get into this character’s head much. But I do :3 And I do honestly think sometimes the most effective way to do that is to look at the Messiest Ship In All Of MASH (TM). As I’ve talked about before from the Charles angle, I love this ship precisely because of its Problems, because they’re problems that exist anyways for both characters, and having the two of them interact makes the problems impossible to ignore, so they maybe finally get to be dealt with. I mean, I just don’t think the optimal resolution to Charles and Max’s racism-laden interactions is that Charles goes back home to a big opulent house and Max struggles to save up to buy a used car in After M*A*S*H. That is not super satisfying. to me. 

This post got derailed to hell but I think what I was trying to say is that Max treats Charles SO much better than that bastard man deserves and I would at least like to see something come of it, for the love of--

[kiwriteswords]

Hi can you write about reader is Derek sister and her and Hotch are dating and one day reader comes to visit Derek at work not realizing that Derek and Hotch knows each other or even work together and it comes out the her and Hotch is dating and Derek gives Hotch the big brother talk and Hotch propose to reader

A/N: Sure thing! Hope you enjoy it!

Birthday Revelations

Tags: Aaron Hotchner x Female!Reader (Who happens to be Derek's Sister!)

Word Count: 1.1k

Tags: Fluff, Birthdays, Big Brother!Derek, Non-BAU!Reader, Fem!Reader

The day started like any other at the BAU. Aaron Hotchner was buried in paperwork, managing the endless stream of cases and reports that came with the job. His relationship with you had been a welcome reprieve from the darkness of his work, a source of light that he had long been without. It was still new, but it felt natural.

He had gotten used to seeing you after hours or on weekends, sharing quiet moments over dinner or a glass of wine. You weren’t part of his world in law enforcement, and that was something he appreciated about you. It made the time he spent with you feel like an escape. Things were still new, but he felt something growing within him that he had not felt in a very long time. 

The bullpen was bustling as usual, with agents moving in and out, working on cases, and trying to catch a breather in between. Hotch didn’t pay much attention until he heard the sound of laughter—Derek Morgan’s laughter. 

That wasn’t unusual, but it was louder than normal today. Hotch knew it was Derek’s birthday today and assumed the rest of the crew was celebrating him, he figured he would join.

Walking out of his office, Hotch noticed Derek standing by his desk, grinning ear to ear, but soon realized the rest of the team was absent. Then, he saw you.

You were holding a small cake and smiling up at Derek, laughing as you exchanged a few words. For a moment, Hotch’s brain tried to make sense of it. He blinked, trying to piece together what was happening. What were you doing here?

Morgan turned and clapped a hand on your shoulder. "You didn’t have to do this, Y/N. I know you're busy, but I appreciate it," he said, still beaming.

You shrugged, a playful smile on your face. "Oh, please. Like I’d miss my big brother’s birthday."

Hotch froze, feeling the pieces click into place in his head. Big brother? His stomach did a slow roll, and he blinked again, trying to process the information. Derek Morgan was your brother. How did I not know this?

It suddenly all made sense—the way you carried yourself, that spark of protectiveness you had when you talked about your family, and even how familiar Derek’s mannerisms were when you were laughing together. Hotch’s world tilted slightly as the realization sank in.

You, his Y/N, were Derek Morgan’s sister.

Derek must have sensed something because, as if on cue, his eyes flickered over to Hotch, and for the first time, he seemed to notice the look of stunned realization on his boss’s face.

The grin on Derek’s face slowly faded, his eyes narrowing in curiosity, then widening in disbelief as he glanced between you and Hotch. It only took him a second to connect the dots.

"You’ve got to be kidding me," Derek muttered under his breath, just loud enough for Hotch to catch. Then he gave you a sideways glance, eyebrows raised. "Wait...Hotch is the guy you’ve been seeing?” 

You blinked, oblivious to the gravity of the situation. "What? Me and—oh, God." You turned, noticing Hotch’s stunned expression for the first time. Your mouth dropped open as you realized what was happening. "Oh my God. You didn’t know?" 

"No," Derek interjected before Hotch could respond, shaking his head. "Clearly not." He exhaled, pinching the bridge of his nose for a moment before looking back up at Hotch. "Hotch, you’re dating my sister?" 

You put down the cake and glanced between the two men, eyes wide. "You didn’t know we were related?"

Hotch cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure. "You have different last names. I had no idea," he admitted, his usual calm demeanor cracking just a bit under the sudden weight of the situation. He had faced down killers and hostage situations without flinching, but this—this was something else entirely.

Derek just stared at him for a moment longer before letting out a short, incredulous laugh. "Well, happy birthday to me," he muttered, shaking his head. "You’ve got some explaining to do, Hotch."

You bit your lip, clearly caught between amusement and embarrassment. "Derek, come on, it’s not that big of a deal."

"Not that big of a deal?" Derek’s eyes widened, but there was a playful glint in them. "Y/N, you’re dating my boss. That’s a pretty big deal."

Hotch, finally regaining some of his composure, stepped forward. "Derek, I didn’t know. I would’ve told you if I had realized—"

Derek held up a hand, cutting him off. "Hold up. You really didn’t know?"

Hotch shook his head. "No, I didn’t. Not until just now."

Derek let out a low whistle, shaking his head in disbelief. "Man, you’ve got guts. But I’ll tell you right now, Hotch—you hurt her,” Derek raises his finger to Hotch, pointing,  “and boss or not, you’re gonna have to answer to me."

You groaned, rolling your eyes. "Derek, come on. This isn’t necessary."

But Hotch, in his usual calm and measured way, simply nodded. "I understand. And I don’t intend to hurt her. I’m serious about Y/N. She means a lot to me."

Derek’s expression softened a bit, dropping his hand that was pointed at Hotch, though he was still sizing him up. "Yeah, well, you better be. She’s my little sister, and she’s been through enough. I’m just saying—if you mess this up, you’re not gonna like what happens."

"I won’t," Hotch said firmly, meeting Derek’s eyes. There was no hesitation in his voice. He knew what he felt for you, and now that he understood the full weight of it, he was even more certain. "I’m not going anywhere."

You glanced up at Hotch, a soft smile tugging at your lips as you heard the conviction in his voice. You slipped your hand into his, giving it a reassuring squeeze, and Hotch squeezed back, the two of you sharing a silent understanding.

Derek watched the exchange, his eyes narrowing slightly before he let out another exasperated sigh. "Alright, alright. I guess I’ll have to get used to this."

You grinned, stepping up to your brother and hugging him with one arm, "You know you love me, big brother."

Derek huffed, but he hugged you back. "Yeah, yeah. Just remember, Hotch, I’m watching you."

Hotch chuckled softly, nodding in acknowledgment. "Understood."

As the tension in the room slowly faded, there was laughter, a few surprised looks as the BAU team piled into the room, and a lot of teasing as Derek finally cut into the cake, all while keeping a wary eye on Hotch.

But amidst the joking and laughter, Hotch caught your eye again, and in that brief moment, he knew—no matter what, he was ready to stand by you. Even with your brother watching his every move.

[d1xonss]

Hey have a great day! 🫶🏻🪻Could you write about Reader who lives in Alexandria when The group first were brought by Aaron.Daryl noticing the resemblance between him and reader being distant from actual citizens in Alexandria and not wanting to participate in parties or fun always going out from the gates to forest.Reader also has a huge scar on her eye something like Carl’s. Daryl making her feel beautiful showing each other their scars and fluffy ending

Beauty is in the Eye of the Beholder

✧ Pairing : Daryl Dixon x Reader

✧ Era : Season 5

✧ Pronouns : she/her

✧ Genre : Fluff

✧ Word Count : 2k

AN ~ Me actually finishing a request that’s been sitting in my drafts forever?? Everyone clap😌. No but seriously, I'm proud of myself for finally getting this done, I hope it was worth the wait and you guys enjoy it. xoxox

You were the first person he noticed. That’s what he thought anyway. He wasn’t focused on the new houses, the strong walls, or the many unrealistic luxuries the new community provided. His curiosity solely remained on you from the very first moment he could remember.

You were different from the other people who lived in the area. Whilst they were all warm and welcoming the second he and his family stepped through the gates, you didn’t seem the least bit interested in their arrival. Though you were still present, watching from a distance as you absorbed the new faces, yet you couldn’t seem to bring yourself to greet them properly. He remembered how you stood on the porch of your house, your arms folded over your chest as you eyed everyone somewhat suspiciously. He remembered how your gaze seemed to linger on Carl and Judith, noting the two kids that needed a place like this to be safe.

But the thing he would surely never forget, was when he first spotted your scar. From a distance even, he could make out the shape of a long, crooked gash that traveled from the middle of your forehead and down toward your eye, stopping in the area right above your cheek. It was prominent, noticeable from even a hundred feet away, and something that surely was proof that you had been through a lot. Though even if you didn’t have any evidence on your skin, Daryl could still tell from your weariness that life outside of these walls wasn’t all that generous to you. Just as it hadn’t been for him.

Weeks seemed to pass by, and he still didn’t even know your name. Yet he was very observant whenever he managed to spot you walking down the streets of Alexandria, almost as if he had a sixth sense like he knew you were near. Most of the time he would just watch you, curious and hesitant, not looking to bother you though he couldn’t help but be intrigued. However, he picked up a pattern in your routine, noting that around the same time everyday you would leave the community to head off into the woods. For hours you would just disappear, not coming back until the sun was starting to cast an orange and pink glow to the sky. 

Though every time you would return, you came back with nothing. Not an animal, not a single can of food, nothing. It confused Daryl slightly, wondering what it was you did out there for the entire day only to come back empty handed.

He felt drawn to you, relating in a way that the others couldn’t even begin to comprehend. Whether you knew it or not, the two of you seemed to have a lot in common, not even needing to be on speaking terms to know that for a fact. Both quiet and reserved with a harsh past, not liking to interact much with others seeing as you hardly left your home, other than to head off into the forest day after day. The wilderness alone seemed to be something you both enjoyed as well. Perhaps you also liked to hunt, or maybe you also had a love for bikes and trinkets. Daryl didn’t know for sure, but one of these days, he wanted to find out.

The man wasn’t good with words, which was why it had taken him so long to build up the courage to speak to you in the first place. But when he spotted you sitting near the pond, reading a book he was surprisingly familiar with…he took a chance. For the first time in his life it seemed like, he threw caution to the wind and decided to go through with it before he changed his mind.

His hands clenched and unclenched nervously with each step he took to approach you, not even fully knowing what to say once he got there. He racked his brain over and over again as you were just a few feet away now, but ultimately he ended up with nothing, now awkwardly just standing in front of the bench you sat at.

But sensing his presence, you looked up from the pages to see him lingering near, his heart doing a flip in his chest. You were…beautiful. He had never really seen you up close until this very moment, but now that he had, it was like he never wanted to look away. He could see the gold flakes in your eyes, the freckles that were scattered all over your face, and lastly…the scar that was embedded in your flesh. But it didn’t bother him at all. In fact…he liked it.

A sheepish, lopsided smile crossed his face as he nervously ran a hand over the back of his neck, “Hey…”

He watched as you slowly smiled back at him, setting your book off to the side, something he didn’t necessarily expect. But you had a certain look to your expression, telling him that you had been wanting to seek him out just as much as he did you.

“Hi…” your voice spoke softly.

And from that point on, he was hooked.

The two of you had grown to be insuperable, which was somewhat of a shock to the rest of the community seeing as neither of you really liked anyone. But with each other, it was somehow different. Like there was an understanding there. You could be sat in comfortable silence without really being alone, enjoying each other's presence even if you didn’t have the energy to fill the quiet. Or you could have company when going on small runs or hunting trips, which Daryl ultimately found out you liked to do. Or there would be times where neither of you could seem to shut up, bouncing stories back and forth as you shared a bottle of whiskey which also helped loosen the tongue.

But the bottom line was, you were happy. For the first time in your life, you finally felt like you had found your person. A soulmate you didn’t even know existed, yet he seemed to fall right into your lap.

Though one afternoon, Daryl noticed you were a bit quieter than usual. At first he didn’t think much of it as he assumed you didn’t feel like talking much that day. But the longer he observed you, the more he could sense that something was wrong, that something might’ve been bugging you. And the truth was he was right, something had been bothering you. But you would rather die than bring it up to him.

Your voice filled the silence of the forest as the two of you sat in the grass of the clearing, reading aloud from the book that was propped up in your hands. Daryl observed you as he laid on his back, one arm placed underneath his head as the other drew absentminded circles up and down your arm. He usually wasn’t one for physical touch, in fact most of the time he cringed at the thought. But again, with you, it was different. He felt comfortable enough to be open and vulnerable with you, just as you were with him. Or so he thought until he slowly came to the realization that you were clearly keeping something from him.

Once you finished the chapter and closed the book to set aside, he let the silence linger for a moment before he spoke quietly, “You okay?”

You looked down at him, forcing a small smile, “Yeah…I’m fine. Why?”

He tilted his head, “Come on. Ya know you can talk to me bout anythin.” he said as he slowly sat up to scoot beside you, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

A soft sigh left your lips, “I’m fine.” you repeated.

“Yer a terrible liar.” he retorted, though he didn’t push much further. He knew if you wanted to tell him, you would, and he didn’t want to make you uneasy by bringing up the subject over and over again. He just worried about you, being someone he cared about deeply, it came at a price of some heavy protectiveness.

You slowly shook your head as you looked down at the few wildflowers in front of you, “Just…one of those days.” you admitted quietly.

His heart sank a little as he knew what you meant by that. There were times where you would get down in the dumps about yourself, feeling a bit more insecure than usual. It was something common, hell he even knew the feeling himself, but it still hurt to see. Especially when he couldn’t wrap his head around it; to him you were the most stunning person in the entire world.

After a moment he gently reached out to take your chin in his grasp, turning your face so you would look at him. His eyes studied you, his thumb moving up to trace the line of your scar, the same insecurity that your mind seemed to linger on the most.

“Yer beautiful.” he said softly.

You huffed quietly with a slight roll of your eyes, clearly trying to brush off his comment as if it didn’t register or matter to you. “M’ serious.” he tried again.

“Well, I don’t feel beautiful.” you gently argued, “Everyone always stares…like this is the only thing they can see when they look at me.” you said quietly as you gestured to the thing marking your flesh.

He tilted his head a little as he took in your words, knowing where you were coming from as it couldn’t be easy having to deal with that every single day. But somehow he wanted to prove how special you were, how breathtaking you were in his eyes, how he hardly even focused on your flaws. Because to him, your “flaws” were only what made you more perfect to him.

“You wanna know how I see ya?”

You tilted your head at him, as if you knew his answer would make you cry and gag at the same time as affection was still something you were getting used to. Though at the same time, you wanted to hear.

“I see ya as someone who’s got the biggest heart the world has ever seen. I see ya…as someone brave, and smart…and stubborn as all hell.” he listed. You couldn’t help but laugh at the last one, knowing it was true.

“But mostly…when I look at you, I see the most beautiful person I ever laid my eyes on.”

The sincerity in his voice was enough to cause a lump to form in your throat, knowing that he meant every word. He truly cared about you, he had proved that time and time again since you had met him. Honestly, you didn’t know what you did to deserve someone who cared about you so dearly, but you sure as hell weren’t going to take it for granted. Not now, not ever.

“I know it’s not an easy thing to get past…shit, m’ still self conscious about my own demons sometimes. But whenever ya start to feel like this…I just want ya to know I’ll always be there to reassure ya. Alright?”

You slowly nodded your head, leaning forward to wrap your arms around him in a hug, sighing at the feeling of his touch. His hands gently gripped your waist as he rested his chin on your shoulder, willing to hold you for as long as you needed. Willing to tell you however many times you needed to hear it, just how special and important you were. He wanted to make sure you felt loved, knowing that you hadn’t received much of that in your past. It was like he wanted to heal your inner child, just like you were doing for him.

“I…” you started to say, but the words seemed to get lodged in your throat, not fully knowing how to express yourself comfortably.

But Daryl just tightened his grip on you, “I know…me too.”

~ Thanks for reading! (And for your patience)

[ode2rin]

kaiser, before this sight in front of him, was certain he carried all the crazy in this relationship. 

looking at what you were doing right now, he realized he was apparently wrong.

“darling, what are you doing?” he questioned, his curiosity piqued.

“practicing my WAG cheer and clap,” you replied nonchalantly.

“your what?” 

“if you make me repeat it, you'll find your pillow on the couch tonight,” you warned, sparing him a glance.

so, this is serious business.

“alright, i heard you. but why are you trying to mimic them?” he inquired, referring to the women you were watching on tv, seemingly seated on the sidelines of an NBA game, clapping like they intended to make no sound by how close their hands were.

fed up with his questions, you darted towards him. in your hand, you held your phone, containing a photo taken during one of his recent games. it captured the moment he scored a goal, with you in the background, caught up in the fervor of the crowd, jumping and screaming with unbridled joy. 

kaiser never thought he had a favorite photo of you until this one. 

“look at that!” you exclaimed, thrusting the phone into his hands before returning to the couch where you were initially situated.

“i look like one of your crazy fans, bouncing and screaming like that! you could basically see the entirety of my mouth by my scream! and i look like i won a multi-million lottery jackpot!” you continued to rant.

“that’s because you're proud of your man, baby,” kaiser reassured you with an amused smile.

“but i want to look chic! nonchalant! while i’m at it! twitter people are calling this photo ‘crazy fan behavior,’ mihya!” you protested.

kaiser couldn't help but chuckle at your outburst. he found this whole WAG thing incredibly adorable of you. “come here, please?”

you slowly approached your boyfriend from the kitchen counter he was leaning on. now that you had calmed down, you finally noticed that he had just gotten out of the shower, wearing nothing but his sweatpants. his tattoo was on full display, captivating your eyes. 

cheeky bastard, as always.

once you were within arm's reach, kaiser wrapped his arms around your waist, turning you around to face away from him. he held you in a warm embrace, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck and down your shoulders as if he was inhaling your essence.

“you know i wouldn't have it any other way,” he mumbled against your skin.

“really?” you softly ask, the tension dissipating from your mind. your focus shifted to the warm body pressed against your back and the sensation of his large hands kneading your hips.

“definitely, baby,” he replied, his voice low and hoarse, while peppering your nape with soft, lingering kisses. his hands slid sensually along the curves of your waist, pulling you closer to him. “when i look at your seat after a goal, i always look forward to seeing you like this. it makes me feel as if i have the energy of a hundred men when you cheer for me. so, you don't need this, hmm?”

“okay…” you whispered, no longer concerned about your previous intentions. your senses were now fully occupied by your lover.

“besides," he continued, his tone slightly teasing, “you did win a multi-million jackpot when you had me.”

you sighed. of course, he needs to mention that. “you really know how to ruin a moment.”

“come on! i'm worth that much!” he retorted, his smirk audible in his voice.

you couldn't help but smile, his playful banter lifting your spirits. “yeah, still. eat the rich.”

“well, i wouldn't say no to that, darling.”

“oh my god! michael kaiser!”

“i’m just saying!”

your boyfriend really knows how to ruin a moment, but still, you wouldn't have him any other way.

WAG = wife and gfs of high-profile pro athletes (but this is gn!reader oki) and if you know the WAG cheer and clap, that means we have weird tiktok fyps, no i will not elaborate.

note. here, take my insanity. i did not know what made me write this man in FLUFF (sighs i don't know who i am anymore) but it needs to leave me alone. jk, just testing things out for my milestone event hehe <3 this is slightly suggestive, btw!

[elysiaheaven]

𝐅𝐨𝐱𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐊𝐢𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐞-𝟑 The fox's wedding

ꜰᴏʀ ᴊɪᴀᴏQɪᴜ, ᴛʜᴇ ʏᴀᴏQɪɴɢ'ꜱ ᴍɪʟɪᴛᴀʀʏ ʜᴇᴀʟᴇʀ, ᴜɴᴅᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴀɴᴅ ᴏꜰ ꜰᴇɪxɪᴀᴏ, ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴇʀʟɪɴ'ꜱ ᴄʟᴀᴡ. ᴀʟꜱᴏ ʜᴇʀ ᴀᴅᴠɪꜱᴏʀ. ᴀʟʟ ʜᴇ ᴡᴀɴᴛꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ɪꜱ ᴄᴜʀᴇ ꜰᴇɪxɪᴀᴏ'ꜱ ɪʟʟɴᴇꜱꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀʙᴏᴅᴀɴᴇᴅ ɢᴏᴅ ᴏꜰ ʙᴇᴛʀᴀʏᴀʟ ᴍᴀʏʙᴇ ʜɪꜱ ʟᴀꜱᴛ ɪɴɢʀᴇᴅɪᴇɴᴛ. ᴛʜᴏ, ʜᴇ ʜᴀꜱ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴀ ʜᴜꜱʙᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴀ ᴡʜɪʟᴇ…ᴅᴜᴇ ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴄᴜʀꜱᴇ.

Words:2052

You floated around the shop, watching the tailor with growing curiosity, you noticed more and more people casting glances your way. They tried to act subtle, but their stares were hard to miss. A few whispered among themselves, no doubt wondering who this strange woman in the old-fashioned kimono was—and why she wasn't walking like a normal person. It didn't bother you, but you could sense Jiaoqiu growing more uncomfortable with every passing minute.

Just as the tailor began discussing fabric options with Jiaoqiu, the door swung open with a loud bang. A small dragon-like creature stomped in, her arms crossed and a scowl on her face. She was dressed in a healer's robe, and her long, white tail swished behind her angrily.

"Bailu?" Jiaoqiu blinked, clearly startled by her sudden appearance. "What are you doing here?"

The little dragon, Bailu, narrowed her eyes at Jiaoqiu, clearly unimpressed. "I was waiting for my food!" she snapped. "You promised to bring me something to eat ages ago, Jiaoqiu! But what do I find? You're off shopping instead!"

Her sharp gaze then shifted to you, her expression growing even more suspicious as she sized you up. "And who is she?" she asked, her voice dripping with disdain. "Is this the reason you've been slacking off? Running around with some... floating woman?"

Before Jiaoqiu could stammer out a response, Moze stepped forward, ever calm and collected. "She's Jiaoqiu's wife," he said smoothly, his voice steady and confident.

Bailu's eyes widened in shock. "His wife?" she echoed, her disbelief clear. "When did that happen?"

Moze crossed his arms and sighed. "She ran away from home, long story," he explained, keeping his expression neutral. "Jiaoqiu here had to marry her to save her from... complicated family matters."

You could see Bailu's eyes narrowing as she absorbed this information, her gaze flicking between you and Jiaoqiu. She clearly wasn't buying the story but didn't press further for now.

"Ran away, huh?" Bailu muttered, her tail flicking in irritation. "Well, that explains why you're in such a hurry to marry someone. Couldn't even tell me first."

Jiaoqiu shifted awkwardly, glancing at Moze with a look that screamed help me. But Moze merely shrugged, letting Jiaoqiu deal with the situation.

Bailu turned her sharp eyes back to you, her expression still skeptical. "You don't look like someone who's run away from home," she said, her tone a bit accusatory. "And why are you floating? Are you some kind of spirit or...?"

You smiled faintly, letting your hand lightly rest on Jiaoqiu's arm, making him stiffen. "It's a bit complicated," you said, your voice smooth and almost teasing. "But I assure you, I'm quite... attached to Jiaoqiu now. We're very much a couple."

Jiaoqiu flushed, and Bailu huffed, clearly unimpressed by your explanation. "Well, you better keep him in line," she said, crossing her arms again. "He's got responsibilities, you know. If you make him any lazier, I'll—"

"Don't worry," you interrupted, your tone becoming a bit more serious. "I'll make sure he handles everything. I'm very...glad!"

Moze raised an eyebrow, clearly trying to suppress a angry look. Jiaoqiu, meanwhile, looked like he wanted to disappear on the spot, but Bailu simply sighed and shook her head.

"Fine," she grumbled, "but don't forget about your duties, Jiaoqiu. Wife or not, you still owe me lunch."

With that, she turned on her heel and stomped out of the shop, her tail flicking behind her as she left. As soon as she was gone, Jiaoqiu let out a long breath, looking as if he'd just survived a near-death experience.

Moze sighed, clapping Jiaoqiu on the back. "Nice save," he said dryly. "At least Bailu didn't push too hard."

Jiaoqiu shot Moze a glare before turning to you, still flustered from the whole ordeal. "I... I'm sorry about Bailu," 

You smiled warmly, brushing off the situation with ease. "It's fine," you said softly. "I'm not offended. Besides, you handled that rather well."

Jiaoqiu blinked in surprise, He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "Alright..."

The tailor returned to take your measurements for the kimono, you couldn't help but notice Jiaoqiu still stealing glances at you, his expression a mixture of confusion and something else—something softer.

"A play at this time around the street..? What tale is it?" Moze asked, Jiaoqiu said he didn't know and went closer, you tagged along with them.

The atmosphere around the Luofu was buzzing with excitement as people gathered for a local play, and you had rushed ahead, intrigued by the crowd and the chatter. As you floated to the front of the stage, you noticed the title of the performance:

 The Tragic Fall of Eiji and the Cursed Fox Spirit.

Immediately, you felt a pang of recognition. This was the story of,,,. The one with the foxian god Eiji, who had sacrificed himself to stop the wicked goddess of betrayal—a goddess that was unmistakably meant to be *you*.

You hovered near the side, your eyes narrowing as the actors took the stage. The story unfolded —how the goddess had manipulated and enslaved the village, turning their protector Eiji into stone. The actors portrayed the goddess as a dark, twisted figure, her powers warping the world around her. She was painted as a merciless villain who had relished in the suffering of others.

You watched the play, something inside you snapped. You saw the actor portraying the fox spirit, dressed in a tattered kimono with a blood-red kitsune mask, laughing as she condemned the foxians. The audience gasped and whispered in fear and disgust at the sight of her.

*Is this what they think of me?* you thought, your eyes glowing faintly. *They see me as nothing but a monster. A villain.*

Your lips curled into a slow, creeping smile. *No wonder Jiaoqiu was so afraid of me,* you mused. *Of course he was. They all believe I'm this... creature. This wicked thing.*

You let out a soft, sinister chuckle that went unnoticed by the crowd around you. "Without knowing the truth, these idiots believe *this* is the real me," you whispered to yourself, almost giddy with the thought. "They think I'm some evil spirit, twisted by power and revenge."

This wasn't how it played out..

You glanced over at Jiaoqiu, who was talking with Moze in the distance. His face, while relaxed now, had once been filled with fear when he first encountered you. He must have believed every word of the tale, convinced that marrying you was the only way to save his friend, Moze.

*So, that's it...* you thought, the realization dawning on you. *He married me out of fear. To stop the monster from claiming another victim.*

Your smile widened, but now it was filled with malice, a twisted sense of amusement flooding your chest. *They want a monster?* you thought, your gaze darkening. *Fine. I'll give them exactly what they fear.*

You leaned back, crossing your arms as you continued to watch the play. The actress playing the fox spirit hissed and cackled on stage, her every move exaggerated and cruel. The audience watched in horror as Eiji fought valiantly to stop her, his final act being to trap the spirit and save his people.

The crowd erupted in applause, you couldn't help but laugh quietly to yourself. *What a naive, ridiculous story,* you thought. *They're celebrating a victory that never really happened. Eiji was really...Why?*

You turned away from the stage, your mind made up. *If they think I'm the villain, I'll play the part,* you thought, your eyes glinting with dark amusement. *Jiaoqiu will learn soon enough what it means to truly be bound to me.*

You floated toward Jiaoqiu and Moze, a dark aura surrounding you as you approached. Neither of them noticed your change in demeanor just yet, but you could feel the power building inside you—the urge to show everyone exactly what they had feared all along.

Let them see the monster they've made you out to be.

You, Jiaoqiu, and Moze made your way to the Luofu, the atmosphere grew tense. Whispers followed in your wake, and Jiaoqiu began to realize the gravity of the situation—word had spread quickly. The news that he had married you, a mysterious woman from nowhere, had reached everyone's ears.

When Feixiao called for him to meet, Jiaoqiu's anxiety spiked. Feixiao, the general he'd been trying to help all along, was there too, his calm demeanor doing little to hide the fact that he'd heard the rumors as well. You, on the other hand, seemed completely at ease, floating just a little off the ground in your red wine kimono, a mischievous glint in your eyes.

Feixiao, sitting behind her desk with her hands folded, looked serious as she addressed Jiaoqiu. "I've received some troubling news," she began, her voice calm but carrying the weight of authority. "There's been word of a spirit—the spirit of a fox—escaping from where it was sealed. It seems... certain dangers have resurfaced."

Jiaoqiu's heart sank. He knew exactly what spirit Feixiao was referring to—you. He felt a cold sweat break out on his forehead, but he forced himself to stay composed.

Feixiao's eyes narrowed. "I've already issued an order. The spirit is to be found, arrested, and beheaded before it can wreak havoc again."

Jiaoqiu's breath hitched in his throat. He opened his mouth to protest but found that no words would come out. His mind raced, trying to come up with a way to protect you without giving himself away.

Before he could say anything, you spoke up, your voice sweet and dripping with mockery. "Oh, what a *terrible* spirit she must be," you said with a playful smile, tilting your head as if you were an innocent bystander to all this. "A vile creature that should absolutely be beheaded."

Then, without breaking your smile, you turned to Jiaoqiu and winked. It was so subtle, yet so deliberate, and Jiaoqiu nearly jumped out of his skin. His paranoia spiked, his thoughts running wild. Was your teasing just another way to torment him?

Feixiao  raised an eyebrow at your comment, clearly puzzled, but said nothing. shee glanced at Jiaoqiu, who was sweating and fidgeting like he'd been caught doing something wrong. "You seem... tense," Feixiao noted. "Is there something you're not telling me, Jiaoqiu?"

Jiaoqiu shook his head quickly. "No, no, of course not," he stammered. "I just—just..."

He was saved from having to come up with a better excuse by Moze, who had been standing quietly off to the side. The general, still weakened from her condition, looked between the two of you, her sharp eyes noticing every detail. she didn't say anything, but there was a subtle shift in her posture, as if she was piecing together the puzzle herself

Feixiao's gaze lingered on you for a moment longer than necessary before she turned to Moze "It would be wise to keep an eye on this situation," he said calmly, his tone unreadable. "We can't let such a dangerous spirit roam free."

You smiled, your eyes locking with Feixiao's for a brief moment, as if to say, *I know you're watching me.* Then, you floated a little closer to Jiaoqiu, your presence sending a chill down his spine.

Jiaoqiu nodded quickly, relieved that the conversation was steering away from the subject of you—at least for now. Jiaoqiu couldn't shake the growing sense of dread. He could feel your eyes on him, your playful teasing hiding something much darker.

The moment they were done, you floated up next to him again, leaning in just enough for him to feel the ghostly brush of your presence. "Oh, Jiaoqiu," you whispered, your voice laced with amusement. "Aren't you going to tell them? That the *terrible* spirit they're looking for... is your *loyal* wife?"

Jiaoqiu felt his blood run cold, his mind racing to keep up with everything that had just happened. Feixiao's silent gaze, your twisted sense of humor, and the looming threat of Jing Yuan's order weighed heavily on him.

But he couldn't say a word. Not yet.

And as you floated by his side, your smile widening, Jiaoqiu knew that his life had just become infinitely more complicated.

[tokkiwrites]

ㅡㅡㅡ in which spencer doesn't appreciate how close you've gotten to Derek Morgan, and even though you guys aren't official, he wants to make it clear who you belong to.

TW: dom!Spencer reid, sub! reader, use of y/n, afab reader, jealous spencer, voyeurism, degradation (kind of), pet names, unprotected p in v (wrap b4 you clap), kind of mean spence idk let me know if i missed anything.

y/n sat at her desk, surrounded by the dimly lit office. The soft hum of computers and the distant chatter of agents filled the air as she diligently worked on her reports. It was another late night at the Behavioral Analysis Unit, and exhaustion tugged at the edges of her focus.

Across the room, she noticed Derek hunched over his desk, his intense gaze fixed on a case file. y/n couldn't help but admire Morgan's dedication and experience, and she often sought his guidance when faced with challenging cases. Tonight was no different as she considered approaching him for advice.

As she contemplated her next move, Dr. Spencer Reid entered the room. Reid had always been a bit enigmatic, his towering intellect often overshadowing his social awkwardness. y/n thinks that's what makes her like him in the first place.

y/n continued to focus on her work, unaware of the way Spencer's eyes bathed in her. She reviewed the case files, her brow furrowing as she delved deeper into the unsettling details of the ongoing investigation. It was a particularly puzzling case, and she knew she needed some fresh insights.

Derek, sensing her contemplation, looked up from his own work and caught y/n's eye. With a friendly smile, he nodded toward her and gestured for her to come over.

"y/n" Derek called out, his voice carrying across the room. "Got a minute?"

y/n nodded in response, grateful for the opportunity to consult with someone as experienced as Morgan. She rose from her desk and walked over to join him, her curiosity piqued.

"What do you have, Derek?" she asked, her tone earnest and professional.

As they huddled over the case file, discussing theories and potential leads, Spencer observed them from a distance, his feelings of inadequacy and jealousy intensifying by the second. He couldn't help but wonder if he was losing y/n's s attention to Derekㅡ not that he cared. It was just... curiosity.

As y/n and Derek delved into the intricacies of the case,Reid remained seated at his desk, his gaze fixed on the computer screen, though his mind was elsewhere. He couldn't shake the growing unease that had settled in his chest as he watched them collaborate.

The office felt tense, and Spencer's inner turmoil was only magnified by the fact that he struggled to vocalize his feelings. He'd always been more comfortable with statistics and facts than navigating the complexities of interpersonal relationships. But as he watched y/n and Derek work closely together, he realized he couldn't stay silent any longer.

Taking a deep breath, Spencer finally decided to join the conversation. He gathered his thoughts and approached them, trying to suppress the wave of jealousy that still simmered beneath the surface.

"Actually," he began, his voice betraying a hint of hesitancy, "I've been looking at this from a different angle. What if we consider the geographic distribution of the incidents? It might reveal a pattern that we've missed."

"huh." Derek furrowed his brows and then looked down at the file again."makin' me question what i know again, pretty boy." all three laugh in unison before Derek decides to sit up from his chair. "I'll head out for some food, don't get to ahead without me, yeah?"

perfect.

did he do all this just to have a reason to sit next to y/n? maybe. did he memorize Morgan's exact schedule so he knew when to come into the office and "make him question what he knows." ? totally.

His intentions were clear, even if his actions were a bit unconventional.

"you know... it's been a while since you last talked to me, y/n. care to explain?" y/n glanced away for a moment, her fingers idly tapping on her desk. She knew she couldn't keep avoiding the topic.

"oh, umㅡ just busy, spence. work...all that." she replied with a soft smile, her gaze returning to meet his. there she goes with that smile that somehow awakes something in Spencer he never knew existed. Her smile had always been disarmingly genuine, and it tugged at Spencer's heartstrings. He couldn't help but feel a sense of longing as he stared into her eyes.

"If you wanted to talk... you know how phones work, right?" she teased, giving him a playful nudge on the shoulder. Spencer felt his heart skip a beat at her touch, his mind racing as he searched for the right words. truth was, he was waiting for the right time to have his way with herㅡ get close, hold her... leave no room for air, only fill her pretty head with thoughts of himself.

As he inched closer, he placed a gentle hand on her arm, his touch sending a shiver down her spine. "I've been waiting for the right time," he admitted softly, "but I can't wait any longer."

"s-spenceㅡ"

Their faces were now mere inches apart, the air thick with tension. Spencer leaned in, his lips brushing against hers, breath tickling at her skin.

"do you know how hardㅡ how long I've had to pretend I'm ok with you talking to Derek that way? do you know how long I've thought about you? godㅡ its like you're etched into my psyche."

"w-what way, spence, i dontㅡ"

his fingers dig at her exposed thigh, causing y/n to squint her eyes at the sudden jolt of pain that ran through her. "I'm speaking now." his voice deep, like a thousand daggers to her heart, they sent her head into a frenzy.

She didn't know why, let alone how this situation was managing to make her squirm into her seat as trickles dirtied her underwear.

"stop trying to act dumb right now, y/n." he trails off, fingers slowly slipping under her y/n's skirt "need to show you who's you are." he paused "need to fuck you dumb right now."

"s-spencer, what if Derek returns andㅡ"

"good. maybe if he sees how deep you can take my cock he'll stop trying to get into your pants."

jesus. she barely heard him talk this way in all of her time here at the BAU. but she loved itㅡ the way those dirty words slipped off his tongue right into her ear and down to her cunt. y/n also didn't know spencer liker her that way. i mean, they kissedㅡ once. but that was months ago, and both of them were drunk.

her thoughts were broken off by the sound of spencer calling out to her. "you already thinking about me fucking you? godㅡ can't believe how fucking soaked you are."

y/n could only whimper as Spencer's long digits traced circles onto her clothed pussy, a dark chuckle evading his throat. "you're so filthy, y/n. you know Derek could barge in any moment now, yet..." he pushes her panties to the side with his index finger "you're so wet, i don't even have to prep you."

"spence, pleaseㅡ"

"shh, i know. you need to show me how desperate you are first." he pats her thigh before motioning between his legs. "on your knees."

y/n's eyes widened at his request, only a soft gasp parting form her open mouth. "don't make me repeat myself. you want me to fuck you? then show me how bad you want it."

it's like she was being a little doll on a string, the way all at once she practically threw herself on the floor and between Spencer's legs, palms situated on his knees.

"go ahead, angel."

she never had her heart beat so fast, she didn't even know it was possible. hesitatingly, she rises her hands to the hem of Reid's pants, letting the fly open. Spencer's bulge peeked through his boxers, making y/n's mouth go dry. "come on, y/n. you know we dont have all night."

nodding her head, y/n pulls his underwear and pants all at once, leaving Spencer's shaft to spring free and slap against his still dressed torso.

jesus christ ㅡ she heard the rumors that circulated around the BAU, but she thought they were just that: rumors. how wrong she was.

"still wanna do this, angel?"

"yesㅡ" she catches herself off guard with how fast she replies, face now so red.

"dirty girl." he smiles, placing his palm onto the crown of y/n's head. "get to work then."

leaning down, she grabs at his shaft as she gently wraps her mouth around the red tip that was leaking with precum, the bitter taste now invading y/n's tastebuds. reid throws his head back in response, tugging lightly at y/n's hair strands causing her to jolt in response.

with a bit more courage she sinks her mouth further. a surge of adrenaline coursed through her veins, and a mischievous smile crept across her face. She knew she was breaking the rules, but in that moment, the thrill of rebellion was intoxicating, making her feel alive in a way she hadn't before.

after a few more moves of her head y/n is stopped by specner with a forceful pull on her hair. "do you wanna continue, doll?"

"please, spence..."

She knew that she was treading on dangerous ground, and she couldn't predict the consequences of her actions. But in that moment, she couldn't stop herself from wanting to explore the forbidden.

"fuck, i never knew what was going on behind those eyes ㅡ you were always so hard to read. now i know...just a filthy girl that wants to fucked into oblivion." reid lets out a mocking chuckle, lightly slapping y/n on the cheek.

"go on. bend over the desk. and look at the door. i want everyone that comes through that door to see your face as i pound into you."

as y/n bent over the desk, her breast pressed onto the hard surface, she couldn't help but feel a rush of guilt and longing. Every stolen moment, every stolen glance, had brought her to this forbidden juncture.

it just clicked: she's gonna get fucked on this desk and at any moment someone could stumble on them. thing is... that's what was making her heart jump in anticipation.

the cold air brushed agains her skin as spencer lifted up her skirt, pulling to the side her panties and leaving her glistening cunt on full display. "jesus, you're soaked. this turning you on?" he laughs somberly.

"spence, p-please hurry..."

"needy girl."

stroking himself for a bit with the precum dripping from the pulsing tip, he teasingly rubs it against y/n's fold, making her whine in response. "shh. you're doing so well."

and with that he pushes in, fully, causing y/n to grit her teeth as to stop the loud cry stuck in her throat. her skin was burning, the pain so good it made her shiver. she was dripping all around reid's cock, biting back moans as he went at her from behind.

the room was filled by clapping, wet sounds and the occasional grunts and moans from both of them. y/n's mind was foggy, tongue lulling out as spencer increased his speed.

"f-fuckㅡ look how good you're taking me." he throws his head back, grabbing roughly at y/n's hips for leverage "what would you do if someone walked in right now? would you want me to continue fucking you, huh?"

"y-yes, spence, shitㅡ"

"god, angel. 'm gonna comeㅡ"

y/n writhes as she feels herself close, too, whole body shaking, toes curling and eyes rolling back when she finally orgasms. not long after, reid pumps himself a few more times before shooting long white ribbons along y/n's ass, gasping for air as he does.

"did so good for me, angel. let's hope we didn't mess up any of these files."

"reid, that's the least of my concerns right now."

⁽⁽ଘ( ˊᵕˋ )ଓ⁾⁾‎  토끼's NOTE : WOHOOOO WE ARE EARLY!!!! ALSO THIS IS NOT PROOFREAD so grammatical errors are possible!!! this has 2.05K words so not a lot but i hope u enjoyed it!! this is my 1st eva spencer fanfic i wrote sooooooo yeah :D anyway tysm for reading ily <3

[ghosttotheparty]

Can you do Nr. 51.  “If this was a romantic comedy, we would’ve kissed by now.” for Steddie?

almost squealed out loud when i read this prompt it’s so cute cw: mention of drug use

51. If this was a romantic comedy, we would’ve kissed by now. (also changed this slightly to fit) dialogue prompts!!

“When’d my life turn into a fuckin’ horror movie?”

Steve looks up at Eddie’s voice, finding him pulling the laces of his shoes tighter, his hair hiding his face. When his laces are done he falls back in his seat, leaning against the wall, looking outside at where the others are still… Preparing, Steve guesses, is the best word for it.

The kids are figuring out the spears and shields, Nancy is showing Robin how to shoot the sawed-off shotgun. Just in case.

“That’s a good question,” Steve mutters, following his gaze to watch.

“Looks like… some kinda indie movie,” Eddie says, watching as Max makes fun of Lucas and Erica laughs, pointing at him.

“One with a happy ending?” Steve asks softly.

“…Yeah.”

“We’ll go with that, then.”

Steve reaches down to tighten his shoelaces again. Just because.

“If this were a chick flick you’d be back with Wheeler already,” Eddie says snarkily, and Steve suppresses an eye-roll.

“Good thing it’s not a chick flick, then,” he mutters.

“I thought you liked her,” Eddie says, leaning back comfortably, like they’re best buds, just hanging out, instead of preparing to fight to prevent the end of the world.

“Yeah, I did,” Steve says. “Past tense.”

“Uh-huh,” Eddie says doubtfully.

“She’s cool,” Steve says, re-tying his shoes after tangling the laces. “But we’re… we wouldn’t work out. We’re friends.”

“Uh-huh.” He sounds less doubtful.

“And don’t even start telling me to ask Robin out,” Steve says, exasperated. “Dustin will not leave me alone about that.”

He expected a Why not? but Eddie just laughs in a way that makes his nose scrunch up adorably.

“Nah, I wouldn’t do that,” Eddie says. “I gotta feeling you’re not really her type.”

Steve snorts.

“Definitely not.”

He finishes with his laces, sighing and leaning back. They’re quiet for a moment, like neither of them wants to leave.

“If you could pick a movie genre for your life,” Eddie says, “what would you pick?”

“Uhm.” Steve sighs. “Maybe comedy.”

“Eh.” Eddie makes a face. Steve laughs softly.

“What’s wrong with comedy?”

“Nothing,” Eddie says. “But so much of it is based on, like, embarrassing moments. I think if my life was a comedy, I’d wanna kill myself.”

Steve laughs again, shifting in his seat.

“What would you choose, then?”

Eddie looks up at him, staring blankly, quietly, his eyes flicking across Steve’s face for a moment, and curiosity builds in Steve’s chest.

“Maybe one of those weird art films,” Eddie says finally, but Steve feel like he’s lying. “That doesn’t really make any sense. No plot.”

“That’s what you’d want your life to be?”

Eddie shrugs.

“Kinda feels like that’s what my life already is.”

Steve laughs softly, turning back to look out the window. Dustin and Lucas are sword fighting with the spears as Max and Erica watch, shaking their heads, probably calling them nerds. Robin and Nancy are chucking pine cones at a tree, aiming for something Steve can’t see from here.

“Yeah,” he says quietly. “Me too.”

Eddie moves to sit next to him, looking out the window, watching the kids with a soft smile on his face.

“We can make it something else,” he says softly. “Some kinda fantasy, sci-fi… something.”

“One where the good guys win,” Steve adds quietly, tracing Eddie’s profile with his eyes. The bridge of his nose, the curve of his eyelashes, his lips.

Eddie’s smile widens as he watches the kids before he looks at Steve, meeting his eyes.

“Yeah,” he says. “One where the good guys win.”

Steve sighs. He wants to fall against him, to bury his face in his neck and hold him close until everything passes them by. Until it’s all over.

But he can’t do that.

“Well,” he says quietly, clapping Eddie on the back and standing. “Into battle, then.”

—————————

The bandage on Eddie’s cheek itches.

It’s driving him a little crazy, but he doesn’t touch it. He’s sitting on his own hands.

The hallway he’s in is almost silent, except for the ticking of the clock on the wall and the quiet, muffled, distant noises of the hospital. And Steve’s and Robin’s breathing.

Steve’s back and arms are covered in bandages too. He’s wearing a sweatshirt now, one that they got from Eddie’s trailer before they were taken to the hospital by some government people. Eddie doesn’t know what’s happening, but he doesn’t bother asking. He’ll find out if he has to.

Eddie ignores the way he feels about Steve wearing his sweatshirt.

Eddie’s sides are sore from the stitches, and he’s eaten three blueberry muffins so the painkillers he took don’t make him loopy, but he still feels unsteady, shaky. He blinks slowly when the floor starts to swim.

“We won,” he says quietly. His voice still echoes around the hallway. “Right?”

“Yeah, Eddie,” Robin says. “We won.”

Eddie exhales, leaning back in his seat, moving his hands, and he starts to reach for his cheek before he stops himself. Robin notices it too and grabs his hand gently, holding it. It’s quiet for another few moments.

And then a laugh bursts out of Steve.

Eddie snorts, looking around Robin at him.

“The fuck is so funny?”

“I don’t know,” he says, laughing again, shaking his head. “We fucking won. Holy shit.”

“Yeah,” Robin says, staring wide-eyed at the ground, nodding. “Holy shit.”

Steve takes her other hand. Eddie lays his head on her shoulder, sighing.

“Mr Harrington?” a woman’s voice says after a long while, and an old nurse comes through the door to the empty hall, finding the three of them. She gives Steve a friendly smile. “I’ve been asked to give you a hearing and vision test.”

“Oh,” Steve says. “You don’t… need to do that.”

“I’m afraid we don’t have a choice,” she says, making a sympathetic face. “Orders from Dr Owens. Concussions can cause issues with hearing and vision, and we know you’ve had your fair share.”

Steve stares at her, and she stares back. Eddie wonders if she has grandchildren to practice dealing with stubborn patients. Robin pushes at Steve.

“Go, get it over with.”

Steve huffs, getting up to follow her out. Eddie hears him tell her, “I don’t need glasses,” before the door shuts behind them. Robin puts her head on Eddie’s.

After a while, the door opens again and Max appears, her left arm in a cast.

“Hey, Red,” Eddie says softly. “What’s up?”

“Uh.” She takes a breath, looking away anxiously. “My mom’s on her way.”

“Everything okay?” Robin asks.

“Yeah, I just…” She looks away again. “I don’t really wanna be alone.”

“You want me to wait with you?” Robin asks. Eddie sits up straight as Max nods. “Will you wait for Steve?” she asks Eddie.

“Yeah, ‘course.”

Eddie watches them go, watches Robin wrap an arm around Max’s shoulders before the door shuts behind them. The hallway falls silent again. He sticks his hands under his thighs.

And he waits. Listens to the ticking of the clock, to his own breathing, closing his eyes and letting his head rest against the wall. He only opens them when the door opens again, and Steve comes over to sit heavily in the seat Robin sat in before she left.

“I need glasses.”

A laugh bursts out of Eddie.

“Seriously?”

“Yeah.”

Eddie laughs again and looks at the floor as Steve lets his head rest against the wall.

“Where’s Robin?”

“She went with Max— Wait a fucking second.”

“Hm?”

“This whole time, you haven’t been able to see?” Eddie says loudly.

“I can see,” Steve says defensively, lifting his head but still slouching. “Just not well.”

“Oh my god.”

“Or hear very well. My left ear isn’t good, apparently.”

“Holy shit.”

“‘S fine.”

Steve sighs, looking up at the ceiling. Eddie lets it go even though he desperately wants to know why Steve hasn’t done anything about either of these things. There’s no way he just… hasn’t noticed.

“Where’d Max and Robin go?” Steve asks.

“Uh, Max’s mom is on her way here. Might be here already, I don’t know. Max didn’t wanna be alone.”

Steve nods quietly.

“Where are your parents, Harrington?” Eddie asks, copying him, leaning against the wall, still looking at him.

He shrugs.

“God knows,” he says quietly. “They didn’t tell me this time.”

“Jesus,” Eddie breathes. “You know where they’re coming back?”

Steve shakes his head slowly, his eyes trained unblinkingly on the ground.

“Gonna be a bitch when they do, though,” he says softly. “Last time they were here, I…” He takes a breath. “I heard them talking about selling the house.”

“Like… the house?”

Steve nods.

“Which means,” he says, “I’ll need to find a place to live. Hopefully they leave me some money for an apartment or something, because…” He shakes his head.

“Jesus.”

“Yeah.” He pauses. “Sometimes it’s like… like they’ve forgotten I even exist.”

Eddie listens, shifting in his seat to face him.

“They don’t say hi when they come home, they don’t tell me when they’re going when they leave, or where they’re going, or how long they’ll be gone, and sometimes I wonder if they come home and like… wonder whose car is in the driveway. Wonder who’s been using the kitchen or… or doing laundry.”

“Steve,” Eddie starts quietly, but Steve keeps talking.

“Wonder if they’ve just… like, suppressed their memories of me on purpose. If they know I’m just a fuck up so they pretend I don’t exist.”

“Steve,” Eddie snaps. Steve blinks, looking up at home, his cheeks flushing like he’s just realised he’s talking out loud. Eddie softens. “Thought you were done with all that King Steve shit.”

Steve blinks again, this time in confusion.

“Huh?”

Eddie sighs.

“If you’re… turning over a new leaf. Being a better person. You gotta be nicer to yourself too.” He looks into Steve’s eyes. “You’re not a fuck up.”

Steve looks away.

“Habits are hard to beat.”

“You’re telling the Hawkins local druggie habits are hard to beat?” Eddie says, smiling.

“Thought you were the dealer.”

“Yeah, now.” Eddie shifts in his seat. “Everything I’ve sold, I’ve used. Some are hard to kick.” He pauses, his voice quieting. “Why do you think I’m twenty-one, in high school, and living with my uncle in a trailer park?”

Steve is quiet for a moment before,

“This is a depressing movie.”

Eddie laughs, almost giggling, squeezing his eyes shut. His cheek hurts.

“Yeah,” he says. “It is.”

“Why are we still here?” Steve asks, looking around the hallway. “Should we go somewhere?”

“Yeah, I think this hallway is sucking our souls out.”

“C’mon,” Steve says, standing up, and Eddie starts to follow, but he probably should have had more water, or more blueberry muffins, or something, because his vision goes dark after a second as he’s stepping forward, and he hears Steve’s voice say something before he’s falling over and Steve is catching him, stumbling and falling to ground with Eddie in his arms.

“Fuck!” Steve says sharply, and Eddie groans loudly, pain zipping through his whole body as they hit the floor.

“I’m sorry,” he says weakly, trying to sit up as he feels Steve’s chest rise and fall, because fuck, Steve is crying and it’s Eddie’s fault, and shit, Eddie can’t get up, and Steve is…

Laughing.

“Steve?”

“God, that fucking hurt,” Steve says, still laughing, his arms around Eddie as Eddie rests on top of him.

“Why are you laughing?” Eddie questions, but he can’t help but start to giggle too.

“I don’t know,” Steve laughs. “I have no idea.”

Eddie snorts and lets his head fall to Steve’s chest, both of them shaking as they laugh.

“There’s something wrong with us,” Eddie says, wincing as his sides hurt again.

“Definitely,” Steve says, a hand running over Eddie’s back gently.

Gently. So gently that it makes Eddie want to cry even as he giggles.

They hold each other as they laugh, Eddie’s arms finding their way around Steve’s neck after a few moments, their legs twining, and it all suddenly comes crashing down around Eddie.

That they made it. They’re okay. They fucking won.

When they finally stop laughing Eddie lifts his head from where it’s resting on Steve’s chest, and he looks down at him. Steve’s eyes are shining with tears, and his cheeks are rosy, and his hair is fanned out on the white floor under them. And Eddie feels himself fall in love.

“Oh,” Steve breathes, his smile faltering, his eyes widening.

“What?” Eddie whispers.

“Uhm.” Steve’s throat bobs as he swallows. “Remember how I… can’t see super well?”

“Yeah?”

Eddie realises how close they are.

“You’re really pretty,” Steve says softly, a hand finding Eddie’s cheek carefully over the bandage.

Eddie’s cheeks flush with heat and he just… looks at him. At his wet eyelashes and red cheeks and the moles that are scattered across his skin. Eddie wants to count them. He wants to kiss them.

He doesn’t realise how long he’s been staring until Steve speaks.

“If this was a romantic comedy, we’d kiss right now.”

His voice is soft. Eddie melts.

“Only if one of us was a girl.”

Steve gives him an eye roll so powerful Eddie is surprised it doesn’t cause an earthquake.

“Can you shut your cynical heart up?” Steve says quietly. One of his hands moves to push Eddie’s hair back. “Pretend they make movies about people like us.”

Eddie leans his head down, his eyes trained on Steve’s lips. They’re pink. How are they so pink?

“Do we have to be in a movie?” he asks quietly, his eyes fluttering shut when Steve’s hand pushes into his hair. “Wouldn’t real life be better?”

Steve pulls him down a little more by the back of his head.

“Yeah,” he breathes. “It would.”

Eddie kisses him.

Softly. Carefully.

Gently.

Steve’s hand tightens in his hair when Eddie pulls away to take a breath, pulling him back down, and Eddie grins against his lips. Steve lets out a soft noise when Eddie slips his tongue over his lip tentatively, and he shifts then, holding Eddie in his arms as he rolls them over on the floor so Eddie is under him.

Eddie whimpers, his arms wrapping around Steve’s neck, and Steve tilts his head, kissing Eddie like he’s trying to soothe him, like kissing his mouth will heal the wounds on his sides and chest. One of his hands finds Eddie’s neck, lightly dancing over the cut that was too shallow to be bandaged. Eddie’s legs wrap around his hips, a strangled noise escaping him.

“Okay?” Steve gasps breathlessly, looking down at him.

“Mhmm.”

Eddie pulls him back down, kissing him hard, furrowing his brows and squeezing his eyes shut, letting his mouth fall open for Steve’s tongue, but they rip their mouths away from each other when the door opens.

It hurts too much to scramble away, but Steve sits up a little bit, and Eddie tilts his head back to see the door upside down. Robin is standing in the doorway, blocking it from the outside hallway, staring at them.

“Why on the floor?” she asks, clearly judging them, and Steve looks down at Eddie. Their eyes meet, and then they’re laughing again, so hard Eddie’s stomach aches and even Robin starts to laugh.

“Rom-com,” Steve says when their laughing quiets, and it just sends them into another spiral. Robin just shuts the door.

[moralesmilesanhour]

Hi, hope you're doing well. I was hoping to request Earth 42! Miles with a SO that's really into art. Like fashion and films and literature and all that and knows a lot about art history.

Hell yeah! (I'm an art history major and my mom did fashion design so I got rlly excited at this)

Warning: vague spoilers for 'NOPE' (2022) if anyone cares about those lmao

"...Do you need sumn?"

Miles gave you a weird look. You had been looking him up and down for the past ten minutes, and not in the good way. Your eyes narrowed.

"Your 'fit is bothering me."

The fit in question? A sleek, structured leather jacket paired with swampy-green basketball shorts. The horror.

Miles looked down, then looked at your own monochromatic ensemble as you stood with your arms crossed. Somehow you had made a large belt with a blue tracksuit make sense. Clearly you knew something he didn't.

He tilted his head in curiosity. "What's wrong with it?"

"It's..." your made wild gestures with your hands, "...the silhouette. I don't like that jacket with the shorts, it creates a weird shape to me."

Miles blinked. "I don't follow."

You shook your head, "Just lemme getchu a different pair of pants."

As you threw open and rummaged through your closet, the boy sighed.

"I'm not wearing any of them tight ass skinny jeans."

"I know, that's not what I'm looking for...ah! These could work!"

Miles yelped as he dodged the two folded pairs of jeans you tossed at him.

You turned and pointed him towards the bathroom.

"Try em' on, 'cuz we not going out with you looking like this. Claro?

"Claro," Miles grinned with his hands raised in surrender before making a beeline for the door.

He made no attempt to defend his sense of fashion because, frankly, it was funnier when he let you rant about color combinations and "silhouettes". And he got free stuff out of it.

Miles re-entered not more than five minutes later, shifting uncomfortably in a pair of faded bell-bottoms.

You clapped your hands together excitedly.

"That's so cute!"

The boy's upper lip curled up in distaste, and your face fell.

"You don't like 'em?"

"Yeah, not happening."

"Ugh, fine. Lemme see the other ones, then."

Another trip to the bathroom, and Miles returned in a pair of boot-cut jeans of a much darker wash. The way he leaned against the door frame told you that he was far more satisfied with these. You nodded in approval.

"You need some boots with those," you said, visualizing the ensemble in your head.

The grin on Miles' face immediately dropped at the word 'boots'.

"Absolutely not."

"Come on! They're called 'boot cut' for a reason!"

"The converses stay. Those are off-limits."

He crossed his arms, and you relented.

"Fine. You're so boring."

"I'll be that," Miles shrugged. "Movie starts in fifteen. Let's bounce."

-

You smacked your boyfriend in the arm as you exited the theater.

"You fell asleep?!?"

"I'm sorry, okay? They took mad long to show the alien!"

"To show the--that's not even the point of the movie!"

Your arms had begun to flail around, and it was taking all of the strength Miles could muster not to laugh.

"Cálmate," he gently brought your arm down before taking your hand. "Tell me everything you liked about it at my place."

"Don't tell me to 'calm down'," you muttered.

-

"So?" Miles plopped down on his mattress, patting a spot next to him. "What happened while I was knocked out?"

You rolled your eyes, but sat down anyway.

"So like, the whole thing's about spectacle, right?"

"M-hm."

"So they get the weird film director guy to help them film the alien, 'cuz OJ figured out that the alien is a animal, like a horse. Then this guy from TMZ comes and puts his life in danger tryna get footage..."

Miles rested his chin in his palm as he watched your eyes light up.

"...Miles, are you listening? And then she did the motorcycle maneuver from 'Akira'!"

"Yeah, I'm listening. Still need to watch that one."

"...then the movie ends with the sister about to get swarmed by reporters, 'cuz the whole point is that, like, everyone's just tryna make money off of the story even though people literally died."

The boy leaned in and pecked you on the cheek. "Very succinct analysis. Now can we play some UNO?"

-

Miles shoved his cold hands into his pockets and shifted from one foot to another. You gazed into the painted-on eyes of the ancient African headdress encased in a cube of glass.

"Look, Miles! Cool right?"

He snorted, "Looks like one of your wig heads."

"It's bad bitches in every time period," you parried back. "You like that one?"

Miles had moved to your right to get into a staring contest with a mask in a similar display case. It was round with prominent, low cheekbones and jagged fangs to complete its frightening expression.

"Yeah, this shit hard. Can we take pictures in here?"

"Yup. It's a Sachihongo mask. Mbunda style."

He took out his phone and snapped a photo; He had that look in his eyes that he got when he was about to build something for the robotics club. Miles smirked.

"I think this is my favorite section."

-

This was fun to write! Made me wanna hop on a train and visit the MET again sdfghjk I just had to scroll through they website to make sure my descriptions were accurate. Thanks for requesting!

[strangesthirdeye]

ɴᴏᴛ sᴏ ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ sᴛᴀʀ (ɪɴᴇғғᴀʙʟᴇ ʜᴜʙʙʏs x ᴛᴏᴅᴅʟᴇʀ ғᴇᴍ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ)

Summary: When little star is no more little.

Warning: IT'S INEFFABLE HUBBYS! WE LOVE THEM MUAH 💋, fluff, love, Crowley being a crybaby, Little star go to kindergarten, reader age between 4 or 5 years, Azirapapa comfort his husband, lots of hugs, acceptance.

As usual, I'm sorry if there are any wrong sentences or typos or grammatical mistakes, please forgive me and again English is not my first language, so I try to improve my language and writing in this way.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"Icky! Icky! " You whined in your daddy's arms, struggling to get free as Crowley hugged you tightly.

"Papa help!" you called your papa as you made grabbing hands towards him.

Aziraphale shook his head several times while massaging the bridge of his nose. It seems that Crowley will act like this once you are old enough to go to school. Human kindergarten. Aziraphale is the one who insists you to go to school with humans even though you are half demon and angel, like he said;

"She needs to get along with humans so that she doesn't need to feel awkward around them or scared" he said one evening.

Crowley, on the other hand, he disagrees because for him humans will know what you are and they will feel threatened by you even though you are just a little girl, not to mention, humans now have a sense of curiosity that pushes them towards the unwanted and Crowley doesn't want that to happen to you so he insists on letting you just sit at Bookshop A. K. A home.

And this lead to some disagreement between the two celestial beings which resulted in Aziraphale winning the disagreement. Crowley just sulked at the corner bookstore which he will be ok again in a few seconds.

Now you have been registered to kindergarten (with a miracle because Aziraphale did not know how to register to kindergarten) and now you are in front of the kindergarten gate for the first day. Well, maybe you'll come in a few minutes late because you're stuck in your daddy's arms.

"Crowley, please let her go, She has to go to her class for the first day. She will be late if you don't let her go" Aziraphale scolded as he tried to take you to get out of Crowley's arms.

Crowley grumbled grumpily. "What do you know? Those little mortals in there will definitely mock her or try to hurt her if she accidentally uses a miracle. You don't know what those little mortals can do to her!"

"well those little mortals will be her friends and help her adapt here. You don't need to worry about her, Crowley. Miss Dhani always watches over the children here. If Y/n needs anything, Miss Dhani will help her. She's her class teacher. She has responsibility for the children here" Aziraphale reasoned.

"Ngeh- what if that woman scolds her? What if she doesn't care about my star if she needs anything?" Crowley sneered, hands still hugging you who struggled to break free.

"Miss Dhani is the best woman I've ever known. I can sense her aura that only leads to goodness so that's not a concern" Aziraphale replied as he finally managed to release you from his husband's arms.

"Now, my star. Are you ready for your first class?" Aziraphale smiled at you who was brushing yourself to remove the creases on your shirt. You beamed at him.

"Yes! I want to make many friends!" you beamed energetically.

Aziraphale chuckled while clapping his hands. Crowley grumbled grumpily but deep down he was also happy for his excited star.

*Ahh, friends! Of course you can make many friends. But remember, you need to find a friend who will stay with you no matter how hard or easy it is, because that friend will be with you for a long time." Aziraphale pointed out. "And stay out of trouble" Crowley narrowed his eyes at you.

You smiled innocently which Crowley could see past that innocent smile. He laughed out loud.

"Aye! She's a half angel, angel. She won't cause trouble here even though there's a little bit of demon in her. She's a sweet half angel and demon. Aside from she's a troublemaker" Crowley whispered the last part. He patted his husband's shoulder.

"But my sweet demon will leave her daddy alone in the bookshop, I can't survive that" Crowley complained dramatically as he kneeled at your level.

"You can survive that, Crowley. Kindergarten isn't that long, she'll be back in no time" Aziraphale replied, rolling his eyes at his husband's antics.

"Dada won't die! I'll be back!" you beamed at him, patted his head.

"Dada will be bored at the bookshop without my little star, those books will attack Dada" Crowley muttered. Aziraphale raised his eyebrow.

"It will attack you if you don't help me arrange those books" Aziraphale crossed his arms.

"See! Help me, star! Please be with daddy at the bookshop to save me from it" Crowley whined.

Aziraphale rolled his eyes, tired enough to deal with his antics. He sighed.

"You always do something at the bookshop, Crowley. Everyday" Aziraphale mumbled.

"those things are boring without Y/n" Crowley grumbled.

"Including tempted one of the elderly to buy pornography who came to the bookshop? No" Aziraphale recalled, slightly cringing at that memory.

"That could be your own fault because you have that kind of books in those bookshelves" Crowley protested.

You cocked your head in confusion. "what's a pontography?"

Aziraphale sweat. "Ah, nothing, my dear. It's not important. The important thing now is that you need to get to class as soon as possible before you're late. Miss Dhani must be waiting."

You nodded excitedly. "Ok! I'm going then!" you hugged your Daddy and Papa tightly before running into the kindergarten.

Crowley groaned. "Argh.. here we go. Boredom has hit"

Aziraphale shook his head "We shouldn't have mentioned those kind of thing in front of her. She's a curious girl."

Crowley shrugged. "It's your fault because you started it first"

Aziraphale became nervous. "Well- Well, I just want to make a point that not everything you do involves Y/n" Aziraphale adjusted his bowtie. "I accidentally blurted it out"

"aye, point. Which you 'accidentally' mentioned 'that'" Crowley raised the fire.

"I was trying to make a point! Besides it crossed my mind" Aziraphale looked down shyly. His face turned red.

Crowley smirked cheekily. "Did I sense something, Angel?"

"Shut up, Crowley!" Aziraphale whined as he walked fast to Bentley.

Crowley laughed out loud at his husband.

Later, you come back with messy hair and a shirt full of watercolors.

[leahnardo-da-veggie]

A Perfectly Normal Schoolgirl: The Full Story

(8.6k words in total)

I hefted the broom and smacked it into my palm. Letting my feet slide into their position, I grinned at my opponent. The crowd, all secondary school students in their ironed white blouses, began clapping with bloodthirsty delight. I had not a shred of fear in my veins, nor anxiety. Sure, he was a good head taller than me and hellishly well-built, but one of us had done martial arts her whole life, and it was not him.

He gave me a single nod, then charged. With a quick sidestep, I tapped him on the shoulder. The butt of my broom jabbed itself firmly into his left thigh, and before he could grab me, I sweeped him right onto the floor, stopping only to catch him before he broke his nose on the classroom floor.

“In the name of the damn angels,” Dane said, as I let him down slowly. “What the hell? You didn't even give me a shot!”

I shrugged. “It's the nature of the beast. You might've struck first, and that's generally a good thing, but you have to have an idea of what you're going to do whence you strike. You're a man, not an elephant stampeding me. Also, work on your breakfalls. If I hadn't caught you there, you'd end up with a broken nose,” I snapped, in my best imitation of a drill sergeant.

Dane brushed himself off and nodded to himself. “Makes sense. I mean, you're-” I pressed my finger to his lips, and gave a meaningful glance at the camera. Nobody was any the wiser, of course. They all thought this was us being a ‘couple’. It was generally a useful fiction, save for that time Dane thought to ask me out on a date.

As the bell rang, warning us of the end of recess, we stored our brooms aside. The class returned to their seats, all sign of our brief fight club vanished.

Mrs Cheng stalked into the room not long after Dane had cleared the last of the dust off of his clothes. Her glasses were smudged, I noted with grim satisfaction. So she'd encountered my little surprise. It was an effort to not expose myself by laughing at her. She pressed her hands to her hips and surveyed us. “Open your workbooks and flip to page 43. Do exercises 5 to 16, but skip question 8 part 2,” she snapped, without so much as a greeting. I'd gotten under her skin, then.

Whilst I idly scribbled down equations on my notes, she strode down the rows between our little tables, narrowing her eyes at us. To the unpractised observer, she was checking our work, like a perfectly normal teacher. She and I knew the truth, however. I scratched out a line of work as her shadow loomed over me.

“Katherine,” she hissed, resting a callused palm on my table. “Pray tell: Why did you move the x² to the left?”

I looked up and fluttered my eyelashes at her. Oh, she knew, alright. She and I both knew the truth. “Perhaps it is because the square needs to be separated from its fellows before we can… remove it from the equation. Don't you agree?” 

Her eyes widened infinitesimally, then narrowed. “I suppose so. But you could say the same of the cube, could you not?” She leaned in and grinned, showing teeth that were just a bit too long in the canines. "Be a bit more careful, won't you? Sometimes a little number in the wrong corner can tip the scales entirely."

I laughed politely. "Oh, Mrs C., don't mix your metaphors. It's not very teacherly, is it?"

The retort made her hiss. "Watch your tongue, little Katherine. Don't you know what happened to the overly-curious cat?"

"Oh, yes," I agreed. "I know all about the cat. Especially what happens when it's out of the bag. Now, don'tcha need to go check on the other students? You can't be thought of as having favourites, after all."

The glint in her eyes warned me that I would pay for the point I'd scored, but I didn't mind. I stuck out my tongue at her as she walked off, and giggled to myself. Yes, I knew all about the cat, I thought.

Curiosity might've killed it, but satisfaction would bring it back. And by the time our little spat ended, I would have all the satisfaction I needed for a million resurrections.

I listened to the rest of the class with a single ear, so busy with plotting our next move was I. Mrs Cheng was going to want to take revenge for my little ploy, and that meant I had to keep on my toes. Things were going to get significantly more dangerous.

Dane, fool boy that he was, had taken it upon himself to become the teacher's pet, a deadly thing to do when the teacher in question was Mrs C. I suppose he was seeking her motherly affections, like a mewling kitten. All through the day, I cursed him as I watched him present neatly written equations to Mrs Cheng with glee. It was a small mercy that she had no knowledge of our relationship, for my sanity and for his safety, and suspected nothing of him.

As the bell rang and we were released, I shot her a mocking bow and strolled out the door. Soon as I was out of sight, I grabbed Dane's elbow and sunk my nails into his soft flesh. “You idiot,” I hissed in his ear.

His wide prey-eyes met my narrowed ones. “What did I do? Training today wasn't that bad, was it?” When my glare did not let up, he batted at my hand. “Kat, let go, please. I don't know why you're so pissed with me, but you're going to draw blood! So unless you want my pa- I mean, everyone to have some very awkward questions, you have to stop.”

I glanced down at my hand, with its too-long fingers and too-sharp nails. “Tch,” I said. “You nearly got yourself killed with your antics just now. And all the not-terrible training in the world isn't going to be enough when you end up going toe to toe with C.”

“C? You mean Mrs Cheng? Wait…” Realisation dawned on his broad features. “Oh shit. You gotta be kidding me, right? It's her?”

I barked a laugh at that. “Yes, Dane. It's her. Her and about a quarter of the school faculty. So think twice before you draw any more attention to yourself, understand? You're not nearly ready enough to fight one of them.” 

The glimmer of anger in his eyes dulled to regret. Biting his lip, Dane nodded. “I'm sorry, Kat. I should've thought things through more. Can I get you an ice cream to make it up to you?”

His inanity brought a smile to my face. “Don't apologise to me, silly. I'm not the one who's in danger. But yes, I would love to have an ice cream. Shall we try the gelato place that just opened up?”

“You're going to drive me broke, Kat. These cafes are overpriced, you know. The convenience stores work just fine,” he whined, pulling out his wallet and making a show of its emptiness.

I tapped him on the nose, and replied, “When you've lived a life like mine, you learn to appreciate the finer things in life, little Dane.” Besides, I thought grimly, I had upset the things running the convenience stores a tad too much to be comfortable eating something from there.

We walked, hand in hand, down the noon-burning street, and I could not help but revel in the heat. Truly, global warming was doing me a favour. Dane did not share my views, sadly. He leaked rivulets of sweat, fanning himself with a piece of paper and he strolled next to me.

It appeared we were not the only ones to crave icy relief, for the cafe was brimming with people munching on artisanal gelatos and sipping iced tea. There was only one person at the counter, a gorgeous woman with hair that fell in auburn waves and overalls that proclaimed her to be an employee. I slipped through the doors and pulled Dane behind me. Without them ever quite noticing, the customers parted around me, and I snuck my way into the front of the queue.

Without turning around, the woman manning the counter chirped, “Hello and welcome to Jelly's Gelatos! How can I help you today?”

I put on my best smile. “Oh, I'd like two scoops of chocolate gelato, please! In a cone. And two scoops of… Matcha, wasn't it? Also in a cone,” I said, winking at Dane as I did so. Matcha was his favourite flavour, and it had always delighted him when I remembered that, so I made the effort to. Indeed, he brightened up when I made his order correctly, and squeezed my hand appreciatively.

Smoothly, the woman scooped out our order. “You two make a cute couple,” she said as she did so. “I didn't know you liked little boys, Katherine.” My uniform had no name tag on it, and neither did anything I carried.

Ah, shit.

I tensed up, sliding into a fighting stance. “How the hell do you know my name?” A protective hand on Dane's shoulder, I leaned in to peer closer at her.

She looked up and tilted her head to the side. Eyes like burnished copper met mine, her pupils just a tad too elongated to be normal. Her hair was down, but I had a suspicion that it hid pointy ears. “Don't you recognise me, Katherine? I'm disappointed,” she purred. 

That voice was familiar, and not in a good way. I'd met her kinden before, men and women too beautiful to be purely mortal, the children of unholy unions. They were never up to any good. “You should be,” I replied, baring my teeth at her. “Don't expect me to remember the name of every random person I come across.”

The insult stung, as it was meant to, and she thrust my order under my nose. I took my chocolate and handed the matcha to Dane, who accepted it cautiously. “You think you're so high and mighty, Katherine? You've made too many enemies, and it's only a matter of time before one of us gets you,” she snarled, her pearly white teeth stark against blood-red gums.

I rolled my eyes in my best approximation of a rebellious teenager. “Sure, like, whatever. I'm so frightened by random minimum wage workers,” I jeered. “C'mon, don't expect me to quiver in my boots at you. You're only scary to the children of helicopter parents who point at you as an example of what happens when you fail your exams.”

“You bitch,” she hissed.

“So close, but no cigar, sweetie,” I replied. “And I don't think that's the proper way to treat your customers, is it? No tips for you.” Picking up a handful of change from my pocket, I dumped it onto the counter. “Toodles!”

On that cheerful note, I pushed my way back out into the sunny sidewalk. Dane followed like a lost puppy, looking increasingly concerned. “What was that about? That woman looked like she was gonna kill you!”

I shrugged. “Get used to it, kiddo. Everyone wants me dead. And when they find out about you? Well, you can bet they'll want the same for you.”

Dane sulked the whole way home, eyes downcast, feet dragging. His gelato melted in his hands, long after I had finished mine, and I watched him in awkward silence. It did neither of us any good to push him, I had realised. Dane would open up to me when Dane wished to do so.

His hand engulfed mine, a steady pressure against my palm. “Katherine,” he said finally, whence we approached his family home, “Are we in danger?”

My initial instinct was to laugh at his innocence, but the look on his face stopped me. There was a quiet fear beneath his skin, on his crumpled brows and tense body, a fear that belied his youth. I sighed and rested my head against his arm, stroking him like I would a kitten. “It will be alright,” I told him, in tones softer than I was used to. “Whilst I am around, they won't lay a finger on you.”

Dane bit his lip and unlocked the door. “Come in,” he told me absentmindedly, and I followed him into his home. “It's just…” He looked away, hunched ever so slightly into himself.

“You're frightened,” I finished for him, and smoothed a lock of his hair back. 

“No!” He yanked himself away from me. “I'm not scared, alright? Just- You know-” He stuttered and trailed off again. 

Young men and their insecurity, always needing to seem strong and brave. “Denying your emotions isn't gonna help anyone,” I told him flatly. “And if you weren't scared, you're more of a fool than I'd thought.”

Dane looked away. “There’s so many of them and only two of us,” he whispered, slumping onto the couch. “How can we fight them all? And…” The last of his words were swallowed in a sigh.

I settled next to him, smiling slightly. “We all die someday,” I offered. “And the worst they can do to you is kill you.”

He shot me a glare. “That's not helpful!”

With a shrug, I threw my hand around his shoulder. He was always so warm, like resting on the stones of the riverbank beneath the sun. “But it is, Dane. Don't fear Death. I’ve met him before, and he's a rather decent lad. Just like you,” I told him, squishing his cheeks. “Besides, I've been telling you about the dangers this whole time. Why fret now?”

“I'd never seen someone… Like that, you know? She wasn't human, and she knew you. Besides, she had those vibes! It was like she was a cryptid or something,” he told me, eyes wide with passion. “Was she the same as what… You know- The thing that took my parents?”

“I doubt it,” I replied, pursing my lips at the reminder of why we were both here. “But she is something close enough to it. You were lucky she didn't notice you, you know? You're doing a damn good job at keeping up appearances, kiddo.” A better job than me, I thought bitterly. So much for being a perfectly normal schoolgirl.

Dane beamed at the praise. “I was practising every day, just like you told me to!” He paused and tilted his head to the side. “Wait- Does that mean I passed the test?”

I considered it. He'd done well, that was for sure. I'd seen precious few youths who picked up subtlety and discretion quite as fast as him. Nonetheless, he was lacking in all other areas. His discipline faltered at every corner. He was atrocious at fighting. There was not a scrap of wisdom hammered into his brain.

Mrs C.'s ominous grin loomed in the back of my mind. With my and Dane's association, it would only be a matter of time before she picked him as her next target. When that time came, I would hardly be in a position to protect him, without shedding what precious little cover I still maintained. Besides, I had certain suspicions about her, ones that I wanted to get to the bottom of.

“It will be difficult,” I warned him. “And it will hurt.”

With all the panache of innocence, he jerked his head up and down. “I know,” he told me. “And I'll do it! Come on, you said I did well, didn't I?”

Damn that guileless faith on his face. I did not deserve it, did not deserve to hold this boy's fate in my hands, did not deserve his trust and affection. And I could not accept his blood on my skin, were he not ready for the attack that would eventually come. 

“Alright,” I said softly. “Get ready. We'll do this at midnight.”

***

“I'm a fool for doing this, aren't I?” Dane didn't look up from where he sat, cross legged on the ground. His shirt was opened to reveal the runes I'd scrawled on his chest and throat.

I drew the circle around him wordlessly. Nothing I said would help him now. The candles were lit, casting the otherwise dark room in flickering shadow and light, darkness dancing just outside our pentacle. The ointment was smeared across his face, glistening like his soul leaked through his pores. The stage was set, and it was time for him to dance.

Stepping back from my handiwork, I glanced at the clock. Right on cue, it struck twelve. “Was something supposed to happen?” Dane tried to crane his neck to look at the clock. 

Worried as I was, it brought a smile to my face. I snapped my fingers and watched as his joints locked up, body going ramrod straight. This was something I'd seen dozens of times before. Sometimes they made it out alive. Sometimes they didn't. Either way, it was up to him now. Some battles could only be fought by a single person. I settled in an armchair and pulled a book out from his bookshelf.

It wasn't long before someone showed up. A man, resplendent in a golden top hat and cloak. He knocked on the door seven times. I ignored him. “Katherine,” he said, voice clear as bells, “I know you're in there.”

Of course. Of course he showed up now, at the worst possible time. With a sigh, I hauled myself up from my armchair and swung the door open. “L,” I hissed. “You're not welcome in.”

L laughed. “Goodness, Kat. You'd think I was trying to st-” I pressed my finger to his lips, reaching past the boundary of the door as I did so.

“There's a security camera nearby,” I warned him. “Be wary.”

“A camera! And you still went through with that thing? Are you trying to get yourself caught again?” L folded his arms against his chest. “Fine. Won't you at least invite me inside, so I don't have to discuss matters with you next to a deathtrap?”

“It's not my home to invite you into. And its owners are currently indisposed.”

L peered into the house. “A boy,” he remarked. “You have gone soft, haven't you? Since when did you do that for mere mo- children?”

I shrugged. “I owe him one. Why are you here?”

“Come on, Kat! You know damn well why. You've been hiding out in the middle of nowhere, pretending to be some dingy little student, and letting yourself get pushed around by lesser beings. The others are mad at you, but they're not that mad. They'll forgive you if you come back.”

He just didn't get it, I thought grimly. Then again, none of them ever did. “L, do you know why I chose to stay here?”

“Will you stop deflecting? I'm telling you: Come back!”

Ignoring him, I continued, “It's warm here. The humans are nice. They have these things called gelatos, and it tastes like nothing else I've known.”

There was a dangerous look in L's eyes. I had grown familiar with it, being the sort of person who tended to inspire mind-numbing rage in others. “Seriously, Kat! Stop it. My place is warm enough for you, and humans are nice wherever you go, and we can bloody well get gelatos at home!” He tried to grab my wrist, but I pulled it back through the doorway, into the boundaries of Dane's home.

“The best thing about this place, though? The cameras. It's a surveillance state. Nobody tries anything here. Nobody dares to. Not even you.” I moved to close the door in his face, then paused. “Go home, L. I won't.”

There was heartbreak mixed in with the anger on his face. I didn't want to look at it anymore, so I shut the door. But L had to have the last word, as he always did.

“He'll die, you know. They all do.”

Then I was alone with Dane. He twitched, raw terror etched onto his features. The poor boy was walking through a living nightmare, and I could not help him. If he died… I did not want to think of that. I had watched more than my fair share of dying children, and it would attract Death. I had no wish to meet him ever again, kind though he was.

The book held no respite for me, and pacing the room did me not good. I settled just outside his circle and stared into his unseeing eyes. He moved again, desperately trying to break free. There were tears streaming down his cheeks.

Was it worth it? I had known those who said yes. The ones who didn't make it out had no chance to disagree. His suffering would make him stronger, the theory went. The rules said merely not to break the circle while he tried to break free. The faith he'd held in me, that I would protect him, compelled me to disobey.

Flopping onto the floor, I let out another heavy sigh. What the hell… I'd broken enough rules already. What was one more? 

With one finger, I smudged the circle.

Dane came free with a shriek, shaking off a layer of not-quite-dust. Before he could fall over and break the circle entirely, I caught the air around him, twisted it, and pulled it back. He toppled over in his panic, and landed squarely beside me. “What the hell?!”

I smiled at him and pulled him into a hug. “You looked like you were in pain,” I admitted. “So I broke you out.”

“But what about the boon? I need it… Don't I?” Dane frowned down at me. “How else will I be strong enough?”

Silly boy. Silly me, too, to risk so much for him. “You did receive the boon,” I told him, beaming. “I caught it before it could leave.” Presenting the glittering air trapped between my fingers, I revelled in his surprise.

“I thought you said the rules forbade outside help?” Dane took the air from me nonetheless, cupping it to his chest. He sat up, and I followed, the two of us facing each other.

“I break rules for fun, kiddo,” I said with levity I did not feel. “Don't worry about me. Besides, I promised to help you out, didn't I? Can't have you dying on me before I grant your wish.” Man, was I dancing on the line today. One wrong move and we were all doomed. It gave me a thrill like no other.

“You're right,” Dane said. “So what's our next move?”

I laughed. “We strike first, and hard,” I told him. “Mrs C and her little friends won't know what hit them!” And more to the point— Neither would the cameras. This was my one chance to get my satisfaction, before she managed to catch me in her web.

Dane nodded. “So we meet at school early? Say, 6am?”

I considered it. “That would work, yes. But I've got a favour to ask of you.”

“Ask away! You know I'd do anything for you, Kat,” he told me, the earnestness on his face palpable. I wanted to pick him up and stuff him somewhere safe and far away.

“Can I stay here tonight?” The odds of running into L again were low, but I did not trust him not to try to spirit me away. Safest to be within a home tonight.

“Of course! You can use my room,” he assured me. “I'll take the couch.”

“Isn't there a spare bedroom?’ I could've sworn I'd seen one.

Dane froze, a pained look creeping onto his features. “That's my parents' room,” he whispered. “I can't…”

He could not bring himself to use it. “I understand,” I told him, and pulled him to his feet. “Take your own bedroom, I don't really need somewhere to sleep.” 

Dane gave me a grateful look. “Kat, do you really think we can… You know, save my parents?”

I ran my fingers through his hair, and hugged him. “I promised you, didn't I? And I always keep my promises.” How I would do it was a separate issue.

All through the night, I could hear Dane rolling in his bed, crying and shifting sleeplessly. I stayed outside his door, standing guard. There was such fragile beauty in his emotion, such truth in his pain, such rawness in his humanity. I could not tell if I pitied or admired him for it.

By dawn, I had prepared all I needed. String, to tie loose ends together. Blood, to find a heartless body. And a penknife, because everything is made better with blades. I had it all in my bag when Dane stumbled out of bed, dark circles under his eyes, uniform crumpled and askew. “Kat? Oh god, I had the worst night,” he mumbled, gulping down the cup of coffee I had set out for him.

“Let's go,” I said. “I don't want to waste any more time kicking about the bush.” It would not be nearly so easy to hide Dane with the aura of his boon about him. In fact, I was counting on that. 

He downed the dregs. “Alright, alright,” Dane mumbled. “Let's get going.” Marching to the door, he swung it open with the lethargy of the sleepless. 

It opened to reveal L, standing right where he had been when we last spoke. Before either of them could react, I slipped into the gap between the door. “What the hell are you doing here, L? I told you to go home,” I snapped, punctuating my words with a shove in his direction.

L held his ground stubbornly. “I'm coming with you, Kat,” he insisted. “You're not going off on one of your hare brained schemes without me.”

“I can handle myself,” I hissed back, glaring at him. “I told you, I'm not going home. Not now, not whence we rescue Dane's parents, not ever.”

“Damn it, Kat! You're acting like a-” He caught himself, and snatched a cautious glance at the security cameras. “A child,” he continued. “You don't belong here. None of us do.”

“I'm happy here,” I said, half-pleading, half-yelling. “And I-”

“You love that boy, don't you?” L pointed a finger accusingly at Dane. “You're in love with a mo-” He swallowed his words again. “A boy.”

“I’m not in love! Not in that way,” I told him, crossing my arms. “Is it so impossible to believe that I can love a place? That I can be happy without you? That I have a life beyond what you and the others have me?”

“Now listen here-” For the third time, L was cut off. Dane shouldered his way past me and glared at him. 

“I don't know who you are or what you think you're doing, but you aren't allowed to harass my best friend in my house,” he said. 

L and I exchanged a look. It said, ‘Human hubris was just what needed to be added to this argument'. “He's my brother,” I sighed. “And he wants me to go home.”

Dane sized L up in that manner young males so often did. They were the same height, though Dane was by far the broader. Finally, he asked, “Do you want to go home?”

Taken by surprise, I laughed. “Of course not! This is the home I've searched for my whole life,” I admitted. 

L made a noise of frustration and pressed closer against the doorway. “Listen, if I help you out with your little venture here, will you at least consider coming home?”

I thought about it. L would make a fine asset. I glanced at Dane. It was his life, after all.

Gently, Dane placed his hand on my shoulder. “I trust you to make the right decision,” he whispered.

Damn that boy. Had it just been me, I would've rejected L outright and punctuated my refusal with a kick to his crotch. Instead, I sighed and stepped through the doorway. “Alright, fine. Deal,” I muttered, sticking my hand out to shake his.

L did not bother with that, instead sweeping me up into an icy embrace. “Accursed-gods be praised, I missed you,” he said.

“Yeah, yeah,” I mumbled. Secretly, however? 

I had to admit it, I was pleased. 

We snuck L past the security guards at school using Dane as a human shield. It was… Awkward, to say the least, but L seemed to derive amusement from it.

At 6am, nobody was in school. The hallways were lit only by the grey post-dawn and the red of the security cams. L eyed them nervously as we walked down the halls. “How can you be so calm, surrounded by those things? They terrify me,” he said, when we rounded a corner and escaped their gaze.

“If you aren't doing anything wrong, you've got nothing to fear,” I quipped. “Now listen, this entire hallway has no cameras, and I'm pretty sure it's not just a design oversight. Mrs C and her brood are using this place for something. I wanna find out what, and preferably before she decides to make a move on me.”

The walls were too-pristine, lacking the grime and stains that permeated the rest of the school. I tapped them regularly, hunting for a hollow spot. “There's a secret doorway somewhere… I've never quite found it, but it's gotta be somewhere.”

Obediently, Dane joined me in hunting for the secret passage. L surveyed the hallway with bland curiosity, then stepped up to a random spot. “This one,” he announced, grinning smugly at me. “Still got a thing or two to learn, eh, little sister?”

I glared at him and tapped the spot he indicated. It slid apart seamlessly. “Holy shit,” Dane said, stepping up and peering into the hallway that lay beyond. “That's pretty cool.” he paused. “I wonder if there's other tunnels like it around.”

“Have you taught the boy nothing?” L gave him a little shove and walked into the hallway, leaving me to follow. “These are everywhere. In fact, magic is everywhere, so long as you know where to find it.”

I laughed. “You know the camera's are still watching, right?” 

L jumped like a frightened mouse. “Where? I could've sworn it was safe,” he said, hunting for the telltale stare of a security cam.

“Hah! Gotcha,” I jeered. “Still got a thing or two to learn, eh, elder brother? Especially about sniffing out lies.”

The look of affronted rage that passed over his face made me snort. “I bet you're wishing you didn't offer to help out,” I told him.

Stubborn bastard that he was, he shook his head. “No, I don't. Irritating beast though you are, Kat, you are my sister.” He gave my nose a playful tap. “By the by, your little mortal is about to get himself killed.”

I snapped my head around to find Dane far ahead of us, at the end of the corridor. He was wrestling with a locked door, trying to open it with brute force. “Dear gods! Dane, quit that immediately. We've got no idea what's on the other side,” I snapped.

Dane didn't listen. “My parents are in there,” he yelled back, slamming his shoulder against the metal door. “I can feel it.”

I threw my hands in the air and hurried to aid him. “Your senses can deceive you, you know,” I warned him as I studied the door. “Even odds this is a trap.” It certainly would be, in my opinion. The only thing that correlated the two issues was their physical vicinity.

Nonetheless, I lifted my foot and kicked. The door flew off its hinges with a satisfying crunch. I'd be damned before I'd admit it to L, but there were some things I missed about not being surrounded by cams. This was one of them.

Dane watched me with eyes like saucers. “Wait- If it's a trap, why're we walking in?”

“Cos it being a trap never stopped me before,” I replied, winking. 

It was a trap, as expected. What I did not expect was to get thoroughly caught in it. As soon as I stepped out into the open, a net descended upon me. I suppose it was entirely my fault, because I thrashed enough to get Dane caught in it too. The two of us fell into a heap of netting and limbs, and only L had the sense to back away. As I was forcibly pulled into the sole, blinding light by sharp-nailed hands, I watched my brother press himself against the wall, blending in with the darkness. 

“Well, isn't that a sight?” Mrs C. sneered down at me. “The Kat got dragged in this time. I could've sworn it was typically the other way around,” she purred.

I detangled myself from Dane and prepared to launch myself at her. “Nuh uh,” she hissed, aiming a sharp kick at my stomach. “I'm afraid someone's watching.”

She was right, damn it. The unflinching red of a security camera watched me from a corner of my vision. I dared do no more than bare my teeth and hiss at her.

Beside me, Dane stumbled into a semi-upright position. “Kat,” he hissed, confused and helpless as a newborn kitten. “What's going on?”

I forced him back down. Damn that boy, always piping up at the wrong time. Hoping it would distract her, I met Mrs C's triumphant grin with a look of pure hatred. “Cheng Kai Ling, eldest of eight,” I began, feeling the camera's stare burn me. “Born 1890 as the child of two poor immigrants. Taught to read and write by the nuns at Saint Joseph's Convent. You had a penchant for mathematics, they realised, and set you at the book-keeping of the church. That was how you put your youngest brother through to university. He was far dumber than you, however, and you all knew it. But what could you do? You were the eldest, and a girl besides.”

Her facade wavered with nostalgia. Humans were all the same, no matter their age and abilities. “How the hell do you know that?” She grabbed me by my lapels, shaking me roughly. “Hmm? Tell me, little witch.”

Was that what she thought I was? I gave her my blandest smile. “It was a dark night, just before a hurricane hit, that a stranger showed up at your door. He was cold and pale and you were kind, so you let him into the convent. He offered you a chance to see the future, didn't he? A chance to live a life beyond the boundaries of the church and your books.”

“Kat,” Dane repeated, tugging at my skirt. “Maybe you should stop upsetting her?”

We both paused, and I winced. With nigh-inhuman speed, Mrs C swept Dane up and tossed him against the wall, ripping the wire net as she did so. I watched my friend smack against the wall with a crack. He didn't stir, and I hoped he had nothing worse than a concussion.

“Yes, little Katherine. You should shut up, just like your little boyfriend,” Mrs C concurred. “Perhaps if you beg for forgiveness now, I will make your and your love's deaths swift.” The grimace on her face said otherwise.

I gulped despite myself, and continued. “In some ways, I don't blame you. I sacrificed so much for my freedom too, you know. But-” I crossed my arms. “To sacrifice your entire family? To give up your sisters' lives and burn your home down to ash? To gulp down their lifeblood to sustain yours? I think you crossed one line too far.”

Mrs C's eyes glowed ever-so-slightly red, just like the camera. “You insolent bitch! You think you know anything about my life? You think you’re worthy of judging my choices? You're nothing but a feckless child, and I'm going to drain you dry,” she snarled, baring teeth.

“Sure you will,” I drawled. “You're not any more intimidating than you were when you told me off for not handing in my homework. Less so, actually. At least then you had a leg to stand on.” There was, in fact, a tinge of panic to my voice. I tried to control it, as far as I could, but truth be told, I really had no idea how to get out of this one.

Bad enough that I was trapped, but Dane was a massive liability, fragile as he was. L was never going to dare the camera's attention, even if my life was on the line. Or was he?

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught movement. I suppose L had been smarter than I gave him credit for, because he snuck directly beneath the camera, right under its blind spot. I dared not look closer, for Mrs C had leaned in so close that I could smell the blood on her breath.

“Oh, you are so dead,” she snarled. “I am going to rip you limb from limb, right after you watch me eat your little boyfriend alive. If you're lucky, his screams will be the last thing you hear.” Her fingers dug in sharp against my shoulders, and I prayed she would not notice the lack of blood.

“Is that so? Aren't you worried you'll damage your dentures?” I sneered at her. “Perhaps you should just check yourself into an old folk's home instead. Wouldn't want to give yourself a heart attack with all the excitement you've got going on.” 

It was a shot in the dark, but it hit home. She tossed me harder she had done Dane, a blow that would shatter any lesser being's limbs. Playing innocent, I lay limp as a ragdoll, listening to the clacking of her footsteps. Curses, but we were still trapped under the camera's gaze. 

Her breath came in harsh gasps, the last traces of her facade of humanity evaporating. With fingers like needles, she hauled me up to eye level. “Foolish girl,” she began, but I was having none of it. 

I raised my head and met her eyes. With a deliberate hawk, I produced a glob of saliva.

Then I spat it in her eye.

The effect was immediate. She released me with a howl that was more animal than sapient, clawing at her face. Her body rippled as it shed its guise, revealing what lay beneath. Her canines sharpened, sliding out of her mouth like sabres. Bones crackled as they slid out of her skin as jutting spikes, two rubbery wings ripping her dress as they flared up like a cape.

Finally, her transformation was over. Head brushing against the ceiling, Mrs C looked down at me with eyes that were a pure red. Her tongue flickered out, split in half. “Gaze upon me,” she growled with a hundred voices. “Gaze upon me, little witch, and know true fear.”

On my knees before a monster and watched by a camera that would gleefully end me, I laughed. “You know,” I said, giggling like a schoolgirl in the face of her blinding wrath, “You really should look behind you.” 

Nonplussed, she tilted her head 180° like an owl. “I see nothing,” she replied. “Do not think you can trick your way out of this o… Oh. Oh shit.”

“Oh shit indeed,” I remarked, and gave a little way to the camera that had been watching us this whole time. Its lens glowed lava-hot with wrath, trained on Mrs C like a laser.

In a moment that felt like an hour, she went up in white-hot flames. I pressed myself against the wall, feeling it scorch me from its sheer rage. A scream that could have been her being torn apart bounced off the walls, and she fell back. For a moment, our eyes met, one monster to another.

Then she was a pile of ash, glowing red, stinking up the air with her remains. I unstuck myself from the wall and plucked a flake of C from my hair. “Brother,” I called out to the darkness. “Are you alright?”

L did not respond. Finally, he unfolded himself from the protective ball he had curled into. “This was why I said don't go near the bloody cameras,” he croaked. “Be grateful I saved your little boy-toy.” 

I walked over to him. Indeed, Dane was breathing, shallow breaths between gasps of pain. “It'll be alright,” I promised him, heart breaking at his expression. The way Dane's eyes were glazed over, shaking and crying softly… Curses, I had promised the kid I would protect him. The urge to fix him immediately, consequences be damned, overtook me. I wrestled control over myself and said, “L, use your jacket to cover the camera. I'm certain it will work.” I had tested that myself, in the very first nerve-wracking moments of my life as a schoolgirl.

Grudgingly, he got up and flung his jacket over the camera, obscuring the hateful red. “Right,” he said, staring down at Dane with a blank expression on his face. “I take it we've got to save him?”

“Of course we do!” I bared my teeth at him. “I promised him, you know that? When his parents disappeared in the night, he came to me for help. When he found himself alone, he trusted me. When he learnt about what I was and what lived in the dark places, he still stood by me. So yes, we have to save him.”

I placed my hands on my apprentice's soft flesh. There was a bone jutting out awkwardly, and I pushed it back into place. Any mortal medical professional would have been horrified at my methods, but I knew what I was doing. Quietly, I put him back together, shushing him when he cried out, stroking his hair as I had done every time he wept. My skirt was damp with his tears, but I could not care less.

Finally, the last wound had been mended, and I gently coaxed him to his feet. He shivered on his legs, barely able to support himself. “It's alright,” I whispered, holding out my hands. “She’s gone. Come on, little one. It's all gonna be okay.”

Dane gave me an indignant look, as though he disagreed with being called a ‘little one', but collapsed into my arm nonetheless. I almost folded under his sudden weight, but held on. It would not do to show him weakness at this point, after all. The boy needed support and comfort. 

“So,” I said, “You said you felt your parents nearby?”

He nodded. “They have to be nearby. I just know it.” 

I jerked my head at L. “You've got the senses for it, and you've yet to be any of the help I was promised,” I said bluntly. “Get to sniffing, brother.”

L rolled his eyes. “It's obvious, little sister. Follow the reek of flesh, and you will find the prey. Or have your years of hanging amongst mortals dulled your senses?”

I bristled at the obvious reference to what we were, but did not respond. It shamed me to admit that I had indeed been going native, with the softness that conferred. There was hardly a need for me to hunt and track, so I let my scent-sense rot.

With blithe arrogance, L located yet another secret door. “Whatever is it with blood-suckers and hidden crypts? I swear, I have yet to meet one who did not adore them,” he commented, rapping his knuckles against the concrete.

“It's good for hiding things,” Dane replied, sotto voce. There was a tenseness in him, anxiety and hope and fear all churning beneath his skin. I ruffled his hair, futilely hoping to calm him.

As L finished tapping the last of a code onto the wall, it slid open, revealing… Yet another dark hallway. I had to say, Mrs C's lack of creativity disappointed me.

There were corpses scattered about, dessicated and rotting, as though the mouldy old crypt was not cliche enough. Brittle old bones crunched underfoot, and I felt Dane cringe in discomfort at the feeling of his kinden's dead being desecrated so. L and I, however, had no such reservations.

“A feeding room,” he noted as we ventured deeper into the passageway. The scent of raw, fresh flesh grew stronger. There were living humans nearby, living humans in agony. For Dane's sake, I prayed that his parents numbered amongst the bleeding. It was better than the alternative.

“Kat,” Dane said, hurrying to catch up with us. He winced at every step, trying and failing to dodge the bones scattered across the floor. “Kat- I think my parents are here. I know they are. I can't explain it, but-”

“You sense it,” I finished. “It is a good thing. Your intuition is blossoming. Someday, you will make a fine man.” And I hoped to all my enemy-gods that I would be there to see it, to see the first thing I had cared about bloom.

He smiled faintly at that praise, but greater matters occupied his mind. Despite his unease, he quickened his pace, hurrying towards the source of the blood-scent.

I suppose something must have smiled upon us, for his parents yet lived. They lay amongst dozens of other mortals, half-piled atop each other like a pigsty. How had Mrs C gathered so many, and with no notice from the authorities? It troubled me, the same way the gelato-fae troubled me.

But I digress. Dane was the centre of attention, and his parents the grand jewels of his crown. Ruby blood glistened from their throats, and I could see the deathly paleness of their skin, but their chests moved. No recognition stirred in their eyes, even as Dane knelt beside them.

A happy ending. It may well have brought tears to my eyes to see it.

“Look at them,” L growled beside me, grimacing in distaste. “Nothing more than livestock. How can you dote upon them, care for them so? No sensible being could see them as more than playthings.”

I glared at him. “In case you have not noticed, I have never been one for sense.” With a flick of my wrist, sharper than necessary, the blood on Dane's parents' throats dried, and their eyes fluttered open. 

Instantly, he was all over them, not caring about the groggy shock of the other bloodless humans. I watched him for a moment more, then turned away. “Our deal is concluded,” I snapped. “Let's go.”

We walked back through the hallway, and in the clearing where Mrs C's ash filled the air, I turned to face him. We were hardly more than an arms-width apart, enough for him to lunge and grab and drag me home. “I'm still not going, you know. Even if you haul me all the way back, I'll crawl to the surface again. This is where I belong.”

“I know.”

“Fine, then. There's nothing left for us to say.”

“I agree.”

We both knew he would be fast enough to pull me away. We both knew that if he did, Dane and everyone I cared for would be long dead by the time I returned. We both knew that trapping me again might just work. 

There was a grim set to his face, a harshness in his eyes. It mirrored mine. We might as well have been back home, with that chasm between us, youngest and eldest butting heads for the thousandth time. I could feel the words stuck in the back of my throat, unable to demand he go for the last time, incapable of bridging the gap between us, powerless to break away from the last of my past.

Finally, L shook his head, lips twisting into a humourless smile. The wheels in his head grinded to a halt, at the same conclusion I had come to seven hours ago. He liked it no more than I did. “I can see you are happier here, for whatever reason. I cannot say I am happy, but I will not stop you. I love you too much for that, sister mine. Enjoy your life with these mayflies.” He began walking away, shoulders slumped in a defeat I had never seen before.

“Wait.” Before I could stop myself, I had a hand on his shoulder. Up close, I felt his regret as if it were my own. In a way, it was. He was sorry he could not convince me to stay with the pack forever, with my siblings in our home far away from prying, foolish mortals. I was sorry I could not show him that it was not his fault, that I loved him and the others no less for it. “Farewell. And I love you too, just as I love Ari, and Cere, and Ter, and all the others, ‘kay? Visit me again someday.”

He froze, mouth ever-so-slightly open. Then he grabbed me. Instinctively, I reached to scratch him, to stop him from dragging me home. But it was only a hug, in the end, an icy, bittersweet, goodbye hug. “You can visit us, too, if you ever wish,” he whispered. “And if that little boy of yours ends up down with me, I promise to take good care of him. Have a happy eternity, you strange, strange girl.”

I nodded, and pulled open a way home. The words had deserted us both again, and we held each other tight silently. Finally, he pulled apart from me, and walked through the door that I made, the door to a place I had sworn to never return to. 

My brother went home without a backward glance. And curse my heart, but I thought of following. The room was dusty and reeked of a dead woman's failure, the corridor beyond holding none of the emotion that so horrified Dane, and the mortal world so very peculiar to me.

“Kat?” That plaintive voice, warbling from the corridor, dragged me back to Earth. “Are you still there?”

I took a final glance at the gateway, one final wayward glance, and waved it closed. “I'm coming,” I called back. “Give me a minute.”

Damn that sweet, innocent child. How many times had he saved me, again? Rescued me from my own folly, pulled me out of my darkness, protected me from making choices I would regret? Did he even know what he had done to help me? Of course he didn't, innocent fool that he was. I got up to go look after him, to go check on him and his family, and stopped midway.

I don't know what perverse desire compelled me to glance back at the security camera. I don't know what might have happened if I had not glanced back, had not pulled back the facade and looked at the thing beneath. I don't know if I regret glancing back. 

You see, the cloth covering it had slipped at some point in the chaos, and its clear glass eye stared into my soul. The red hid flames like no other, flames that would scorch even me.

Heart sinking, I gave it a nervous grin. Damn, but it hurt to be caught at the last moment. To fail, after everything we'd done. To lose this wonderful world that had just accepted me into its heart. The security eye held my gaze for a horrible eternity.

Then it winked at me.

Taglist:

@coffeeangelinabox, @dorky-pals, @calliecwrites, @kaylinalexanderbooks, @shukei-jiwa

@thewingedbaron, @pluppsauthor, @cowboybrunch, @wylloblr, @possiblyeldritch @ramwritblr, @urnumber1star, @fortunatetragedy, @bigwipscholar, @ratedn

@vampirelover890, @possiblylisle, @illarian-rambling, @the-ellia-west

@finicky-felix, @evilgabe29, @glitched-dawn, @rivenantiqnerd, @dragonhoardesfandoms

@drchenquill, @everythingismadeofchaos, @owldwagitoutofyou, @dimitrakies, @beloveddawn-blog

@riveriafalll, (Anyone else who wants to get added can tell me in the comments, pm me, or send me an ask about it!)

[its-all-or-nothing94]

Racing Hearts - Part 3 // Charles Leclerc x Reader

Summary: You and Charles have your first date. And the first encounter with his life in the public eye.

Masterlist Part 1 Part 2

Warnings: Pure Fluff

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

A/N: Uhh, you guys make me so happy! And I personally really love this chapter, because is so SWEET!

Disclaimer: This story is purely fictional, and any character portrayals are just how I wrote them - hence fictional! I don't know them, except my OCs.

Tagging: @liebgotts-lovergirl, @softly-writes, @bellewintersroe, @faithm120601, @needtokeepfeelingsincheck, @bbygrllllllll

Morning sunlight streamed into the room as you stirred awake. You rubbed your eyes, still feeling a bit dazed by the events of the previous night. As you sat up, Sofia barged into your room, her eyes sparkling excitedly.

"Y/N! Oh my gosh, spill the tea! What happened after Charles drove you home last night?" Sofia jumped onto your bed, eager to hear all the details.

You blushed, feeling a bit hesitant to share everything, but you knew Sofia wouldn't let it go. "Well, we went up to this hill with a stunning view of the city," you began, a shy smile on your face. "We talked, and he was so sweet, Sofia. I've never felt this way before."

Sofia squealed, "That's amazing! I knew there was something special between you two!" Then she wiggled her eyebrows. "Did you kiss?"

You blushed and averted your gaze. "We did!"

Sofia squeaked and clapped her hands together. "OMG! This is so good! I knew this would work out!"

"Yeah," you nodded, "but I also told him about my past relationship and how I'm not really looking for anything serious right now. I didn't want to lead him on."

Sofia's excitement softened into concern, "Oh, Y/N, are you sure about that? I mean, Charles seems really into you. Maybe you should give it a chance?"

"I don't know, Sof," you replied, your uncertainty evident. "I don't want to get hurt again, and I don't want to hurt him either."

Just as you were deep in conversation, your phone chimed with a message notification. You picked it up, and your heart skipped a beat when you saw it was from Charles. Sofia leaned in, her eyes widening with curiosity.

"Well, are you going to open it or not?" Sofia urged.

You hesitated for a moment, then opened the text.

Charles had sent you a simple but sweet message: "I had an incredible time with you last night. I can't stop thinking about you, and I would love to see you again soon if you're up for it. 😊"

Sofia's eyes lit up, "Oh my gosh, that's adorbs! What are you going to say?"

You blushed, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. "I don't know, Sofia. I really like him, but I'm scared."

Sofia placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder, "It's okay to be scared, you. Just follow your heart and take things one step at a time. If you like him and enjoy his company, maybe it's worth exploring. You don't have to rush into anything serious right away."

You nodded, grateful for Sofia's support. "You're right. I'll reply and let him know I had a great time, too, and that I'd love to see him again."

"That's the spirit!" Sofia grinned, giving her friend a tight hug. "Just be honest with him, and everything will work out."

With newfound confidence, you replied to Charles's message, expressing your own feelings and agreeing to meet up again. As you hit send, you felt a sense of excitement about the possibilities ahead.

Sofia beamed, "See? It's going to be great! I can't wait to hear all about your next date!"

You laughed, "You're unbelievable, Sof. But thanks for being here for me."

"That's what best friends are for!" Sofia winked, "Now, let's get some breakfast and start planning your fabulous next rendezvous with Charles!"

As the morning sun painted the streets of Monaco with a warm glow, Charles and Pierre set off on their regular morning jog. It was a cherished ritual for the two friends when Pierre is in Monaco, providing a chance to catch up and share their thoughts.

"And then what happened?" Pierre asked as they jogged up the hill. Both athletes were slightly out of breath.

Charles couldn't contain his excitement, and as they settled into their pace, he began to spill the beans to Pierre about the incredible night he had with you.

"Mate, you won't believe it," Charles began, a wide grin spreading across his face.

Pierre matched his friend's enthusiasm, "Tell me everything!"

"Well," Charles began, "after we left the club, I took her to this hill overlooking the city. We talked for hours, and it was just so easy to connect with her. She's amazing, Pierre, and I've never felt this way about anyone before."

Pierre chuckled, teasingly nudging Charles, "You're smitten, mate."

"I think I am," Charles replied with a laugh. "But there's more. She told me about her past relationship and how she's not looking for anything serious right now. I understand where she's coming from, but I can't help but feel a strong connection with her."

Pierre nodded, understanding his friend's dilemma. "Well, take it slow, Charles. If she's worth it, she'll come around in her own time."

"You're right," Charles sighed, "I just don't want to mess this up. She's different, and I don't want to lose her."

Pierre smiled reassuringly, "I can see how much she means to you. Just be patient, my friend. Everything will work out."

As they continued their jog, Charles's phone buzzed with a notification. He slowed his pace for a moment to check the message. It was from you, and he felt a rush of anticipation as he opened it.

His face lit up as he read your response, and he couldn't help but share the news with Pierre. "She said she had a great time too, and she'd love to see me again!" Charles beamed.

"That's fantastic, frérot!" Pierre cheered. "Looks like things are heading in the right direction."

Charles nodded, feeling a sense of relief and excitement. "I can't wait to see her again. She's really something special."

Pierre patted his friend on the back, "Just take it one step at a time, Charles. You'll figure it out together."

Charles and Pierre finally settled on some stones at the peak of the hill, both catching their breath after the vigorous climb. Charles took a big sip from his water bottle before turning to his best friend.

"What should I do with her? What would you do?" Charles asked, seeking Pierre's advice.

Pierre pondered for a moment before responding, "Well, based on what I observed yesterday, she seems like a quite reserved person. I noticed her glancing around a few times, probably aware of all the curious vultures lurking nearby," he said, referring to the paparazzi. "It's clear she's not used to the public being so involved in her life, so you should keep that in mind."

Charles nodded, deep in thought. He was accustomed to living in the public eye, but he knew he had to be considerate of your feelings and protect you from any undue stress.

"You're right," Charles admitted. "I don't want to overwhelm her with all the attention. How about... how about I invite her over for dinner? We could cook something together."

Pierre burst into laughter at the suggestion. "Seriously, mate? You know you're a terrible cook!"

Charles grinned mischievously. "Exactly! But Y/N doesn't know that," he teased.

Pierre continued laughing, "Oh, this could be interesting. Go for it! And if the cooking turns out disastrous and she still stays, you know she's a keeper."

Charles chuckled, appreciating Pierre's support and humor.

Feeling confident in his plan, he picked up his phone and sent a message to you: "I want to see you again soon. Do you like cooking? How about a nice dinner at my place? :)" He hit send and eagerly awaited your response while he and Pierre continued to chat about their day and future plans.

Your phone buzzed, and a bright smile spread across your face as you read Charles's message. "A dinner date at his place? That sounds amazing," you thought to yourself. But as excitement welled up, so did your apprehensions about past relationships that left you hurt. You couldn't afford to let your guard down again, even if Charles seemed like a genuinely nice guy.

"Hey, Y/N, you okay?" Sofia's voice broke through your thoughts, and you looked up to see your best friend's concerned expression.

You hesitated for a moment before answering, "Yeah, I'm fine. Charles invited me over for dinner, and I don't know if I should go."

Sofia raised an eyebrow, "Why not? It sounds like a lovely idea."

Your vulnerability surfaced as you confessed, "I just don't want to get hurt again. Every time I let my guard down, I end up getting hurt."

Sofia's hand gently squeezed your shoulder in a comforting gesture. "I get it. But Charles seems like a genuine person, and if he didn't care about you, he wouldn't have invited you over for dinner. Besides, you won't know if it's worth it if you don't take the risk."

Taking Sofia's words to heart, you took a deep breath, realizing that you couldn't let your past experiences hold you back from the possibility of something beautiful with Charles.

After some contemplation, you picked up your phone and mustered the courage to text him back: "Sure, I'd love to. I love cooking. Just tell me what to bring."

Sofia beamed beside you, knowing you couldn't resist such an invitation, especially from someone you genuinely liked.

As expected, Charles's reply came swiftly, assuring you that he would handle everything and pick you up at 5 pm.

"That's perfect. We have enough time," Sofia exclaimed, clapping her hands together in excitement. Your playful frown appeared as you muttered, "Please don't say for shopping," knowing that Sofia was always enthusiastic about retail therapy.

But Sofia was already on her feet, determined to make the most of your time. "Enough time to go shopping!" she declared, leading you out of the room.

As you ventured from one store to another, Sofia's enthusiasm was infectious, and you couldn't help but try on various outfits. By the time you returned home, you were laden with shopping bags.

After a quick shower, you found Sofia had prepared some outfit options for you on the bed. Sofia always had a knack for fashion, and you trusted your friend's choices.

Trying on the outfits, you finally settled on a black two-piece that accentuated your curves paired with a boho-style cardigan. Strappy sandals and simple jewelry completed the look. You stood before the mirror, your wavy hair cascading down your back, feeling confident and beautiful.

Sofia peeked into the room, grinning widely at the sight. "You look stunning, Y/N!"

You smiled back, grateful to have such a supportive friend by your side. "Thanks, Sofia. You always know what works best."

With the perfect outfit and newfound confidence, you were ready for the dinner date that awaited you with Charles. Excitement and nervousness intertwined within you, but you knew you had to embrace the possibility of happiness, even if it meant taking a risk.

"You look perfect," Sofia complimented, gazing at you with admiration. "But now go!"

"Thanks, Sof!" you replied, stepping out the door.

Exactly at 5 pm, Charles arrived to pick you up. His breath caught in his throat when he saw you; you looked absolutely stunning in your two-piece outfit, and he felt incredibly fortunate to spend the evening with you.

"Wow, you look amazing," Charles said, walking over to you and planting a gentle kiss on your cheek.

Blushing, you felt a flutter in your stomach at his sweet gesture. "Thank you," you replied, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness.

Charles courteously opened the car door for you, and you drove to his apartment, chatting about your day, sharing laughter, and discovering common music interests. Upon arrival, Charles carried the grocery bags to the kitchen, and you admired his modern and tastefully furnished apartment.

"I hope you're okay with chicken and veggies," Charles said, showing you the fresh ingredients he had bought earlier.

"Sure, that sounds perfect," you replied, placing your bag on the floor and taking off your cardigan.

You admired the apartment's interior, with dark wood furniture and vibrant area rugs in the living room, sleek couches, and a cozy armchair. The kitchen boasted stainless steel appliances and a beautiful marble countertop. In the bedroom, a plush king-sized bed adorned with crisp white linens exuded comfort. Charles's passion for sports was evident from the trophies on display, particularly the wall with helmets in his other room. She also notices the white piano in the corridor.

"Thank you. I like your apartment," you expressed your appreciation as you made your way to the kitchen.

"Thanks," Charles called back with a smile, and you joined him in the kitchen.

"You're welcome. Can I help?" you offered, pulling your hair up with a scrunchy.

Charles found himself mesmerized by your natural beauty. You were absolutely stunning, and he caught himself momentarily lost in admiration before snapping back to reality.

"If you'd like," Charles replied, trying to hide his flustered state.

As you stood side by side in the kitchen, Charles admitted, "I have to confess, I'm not the best cook, but I promise I'll do my best," chuckling.

You playfully laughed, "No worries, Charles. It's all about having fun and trying something new together. We'll make it work!"

You settled on preparing a simple pasta dish with a homemade sauce. You took the lead, guiding Charles through the steps while playfully teasing him about his occasional kitchen mishaps. Charles found your laughter infectious and felt his nerves dissipate as you cooked together.

Amidst chopping vegetables and stirring the sauce, you exchanged lighthearted banter and shared stories from their past. The kitchen was filled with the delightful aroma of the sauce, creating an atmosphere of warmth and comfort. As Charles watched you expertly work your way through his kitchen, he couldn't help but appreciate how easily and naturally you appeared.

"Do you want some white wine?" Charles asked, and you nodded.

"That would be perfect. I need some of it later for deglazing," you replied.

He fetched a bottle of white wine from the fridge and poured them each a glass. Placing the bottle next to you, you smiled at him, but he noticed tears glistening in your eyes.

Concerned, he was about to ask what was wrong when he felt a burning sensation in his own eyes. As he glanced down, he saw the onions you were cutting, and you both burst into heartfelt laughter.

Wiping away your tears, you placed the sliced onions into a small bowl. Charles handed you the glass, and you toasted to each other.

After a bit of trial and error, you finally plated your creation – a delicious-looking pasta dish topped with freshly grated cheese and herbs. It might not have been a gourmet masterpiece, but you were both proud of your joint effort.

As you sat down at the table, Charles couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment. He looked at you, your eyes filled with excitement, and he realized that it wasn't about being a master chef; it was about the shared experience and connection you were building.

"Bon appétit!" Charles said, raising his glass.

"Bon appétit!" you echoed, clinking your glass against his.

You savored your meal, exchanging smiles and laughter over their culinary adventure. Charles may not have been the best cook, but in that moment, it didn't matter. What mattered was the genuine connection he was forming with you and the joy you found in each other's company.

"That was delicious," he said after they finished, and you smiled.

"It was," you replied softly, taking another sip of your wine.

Then Charles leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table and intertwining his fingers. "So I was thinking. How about a little walk? I could show you some of my favorite spots."

"I'd love that," you replied with a smile.

Charles's grin widened, and he got up from his chair, taking the dishes into the kitchen. You stood up as well and helped him clean everything up.

Then the two of you put on your shoes and then got out of the building.

As Charles and you strolled through the picturesque streets of Monaco, the glitz and glamour of the city surrounded you. The sun sparkled on the azure waters, and the gentle breeze carried an air of excitement. As you laughed and shared stories, you couldn't help but feel captivated by the charm of the famous Formula 1 driver by your side.

Little did you know that your carefree moment was about to be interrupted. Suddenly, a group of paparazzi appeared, cameras flashing and microphones thrust forward, eager to capture every moment of Charles's life. It was a scene straight out of a movie, but you quickly realized that this was the reality of being in the spotlight.

Charles glanced at you with an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry you have to deal with this," he said softly, trying to shield you from the invasive attention.

You gave him a reassuring smile. "It's okay. I understand. Just a part of being you, I guess?"

Still, you couldn't help but feel overwhelmed as the paparazzi pressed in closer, bombarding you with questions and requests for photographs. It was clear that Charles was used to handling such situations, but you were taken aback by the intensity of it all.

Thinking quickly, Charles grabbed your hand and led you through a maze of streets, trying to shake off the paparazzi. You ducked into an alley and found a hidden path that led down to the harbor. Charles knew he had to act fast to give you some privacy.

"Follow me," Charles whispered, excitement twinkling in his eyes.

Curious and slightly bewildered, you followed him, your heart pounding with anticipation.

As you reached the harbor, he walked passed the guard, who just nodded at you and led you onto the jetty. You looked back and could see that the paparazzi weren't able to get across the guard.

When Charles stopped before a yacht, you looked at him.

"Is that... yours?" you asked, astonished.

Charles grinned, pleased by her reaction. "Yes, it is. My little escape when I need some time away from the limelight."

You couldn't believe your eyes. She had heard about the extravagant lifestyles of celebrities, but being invited to escape with Charles to his private yacht felt like a dream and also so out of place.

A harbor worker warmly greeted Charles and assisted him in untying the ropes. Stepping onto the yacht, Charles extended his hand to help you aboard.

"Thank you," you said, still feeling a bit overwhelmed by the luxurious yacht.

Charles climbed on top and started the yacht. You hesitantly followed him up the stairs, and as he began driving forward, you bumped into him. In a swift move, Charles caught you, holding you close against his chest.

Your eyes locked, and there was a moment of connection before you cleared your throat, gently pulling away from him.

With a grin on his face, Charles steered you out of the harbor.

"Where are we going?" you asked as she settled down next to him.

"You'll see," Charles replied mysteriously.

Without further words, he navigated the yacht out to sea before making a left turn towards a secluded cove. Gradually, he slowed down and finally stopped the yacht altogether. The vessel was now pointed towards the mainland, with the open sea behind them. Charles lowered the anchor and turned off the engine.

"Come," Charles invited, extending his hand to you.

You took his hand, and he led you down, grabbing a bottle of wine and two glasses from the refrigerator. Then, he guided you forward to the cushions on the front deck. You sat down, and he pointed towards the majestic mountains.

"The sunset is unfortunately not over the sea here, but if you can watch it like this... It's also really, really nice," he explained.

Astonished, you gazed at the mountains, understanding what he meant. "It's beautiful," she whispered, appreciating the stunning scenery and the thoughtful gesture.

As the yacht gently glided over the calm waters of the Mediterranean, Charles turned to you with a sincere expression on his face. "I'm really sorry about the paparazzi back there," he said, genuine remorse in his voice.

You smiled, placing a reassuring hand on his arm. "Charles, you don't need to apologize. I understand that it comes with the territory of being a public figure."

"I know, but I wish it didn't have to impact our time together like that," Charles replied, a touch of frustration evident in his tone.

"It's okay, really," you assured him. "It's all part of your world, and I'm here because I want to get to know the real you, not just the famous F1 driver."

Charles's eyes softened, appreciating her understanding. "Thank you for being so understanding. It means a lot to me."

The sun had set by now, and the sky was painted with hues of orange and pink. You found the moment enchanting, and you couldn't help but feel grateful for the unexpected turn of events.

"This yacht is incredible," you said, changing the subject to lighten the mood. "How often do you escape to this private oasis?"

Charles chuckled, happy to shift the focus away from the paparazzi encounter. "I try to get away here whenever I can, especially during breaks in the racing season. It's my sanctuary, a place where I can unwind and be myself."

You shifted your gaze, feeling the weight of uncertainty settle in your heart. "Talking about that... When... Uh, when is your next race?" you asked, knowing that Charles's racing career would undoubtedly consume a significant part of his time. It was one of the reasons why you were hesitant about him, considering he'd be away for most of the year.

Charles let out a sigh. "Well, we're just about to get into Monaco Race Week next week. That's why I'm here already. I try to be at home as often as possible, but when it's Monaco Grand Prix, I can stay here longer." He paused, the two of you sitting together on the cushions. "There's actually something I wanted to give you," he continued and got up.

You observed him as he walked to the back of the yacht and returned with two envelopes in his hand.

"These are VIP passes for the race. If you want, you and Sofia could come and watch the race in the Ferrari Garage," he offered, handing her the passes. "Only if you want, of course. I would totally understand if you don't..."

You looked at the passes and then back at Charles with a smile. "I would love to see you race, Charles," you said, and his face lit up with delight.

"Really?"

"Really. I mean, I have absolutely no clue when it comes to Formula 1, but I won't mind supporting you," you smiled, and Charles took your hand in his.

"You have no idea how happy this makes me," he confessed.

He looked at you intently, and then he gently placed a hand on your cheek. Charles' touch was warm and tender as your lips softly met. Your kiss was filled with affection and admiration, lingering on your lips before you parted. You felt the butterflies fluttering in your stomach, and you kissed him back passionately.

"You make me happy, Y/N," he whispered against your lips, and you smiled into the next kiss.

You could have never imagined finding someone who brought you such happiness in Monaco, especially when you weren't actively seeking it.

[aphroditestummyrolls]

I would love to see more of the deleted scene if you want

or time for a spare prayer

<3

Hello! Instead of the deleted scene (don’t want to spoil the whole thing), here’s a Matthias and Colm interaction in Chapter 5 of Spare Prayer!

“We’ve all made a home here, yes, but we all have places we cannot return to.”

“Jesper doesn’t.” He immediately replied, feeling a sudden knee jerk defensiveness, meeting the young man’s gaze defiantly. “Jes could’ve come home any time he wanted to. He knows I’d be there whenever he needed me.”

The Fjerdan was looking placidly at him, and Colm got the impression that he was quite a bit more intelligent than his brawn would imply.

“Mr. Fahey, Jesper clearly did not think that.”

It stung like a smack across the face. Of course, he’d been thinking about it. Colm had spent the whole night and most of the morning wondering why— why did Jesper lie? Why did he continue to lie, even once he knew he was in over his head?

He’d reached an answer, he supposed. But it was different to have the words spoken out loud. The Fjerdan had spoken them with such utter banality, too— it was a fact, it was known. Colm Fahey was not the safe place his son ran to when he needed help. He wasn’t the father he had tried to be.

It took a moment for him to suck some air into his frozen lungs. A broad hand came to clap against his shoulder, and it slammed up against his last damned nerve. Colm jerked away from the Fjerdan’s touch and hoped the stony look on his face could speak for him. Don’t touch me.

He— what was his name? Matthias?— held up his palms in a halfhearted surrender. Colm wished in that moment that he was the type of man who could stick by his anger, but even as he dug his heels into the feeling, his curiosity won out. Jesper was clearly unwilling to talk to him. Wylan gave him useless half-truths and declarations of love. Nina scolded him for his parenting as if he’d had any choice but to protect his only child. But, maybe Matthias would actually talk to him.

He was already irritatingly straightforward.

“Why?” He finally said, breathless and half-begging. “Who d’you think I am? What has Jesper said about me?”

Matthias’s blue gaze went very soft. Colm took a swallow of beer and let it wash away a bit of the bitterness rising up his throat— it felt like pity. It was on the knife edge of what he could stand.

“He loves you. And it might not make sense— it doesn’t make much sense to me either— but he lied because he loves you.”

Colm scoffed, shaking his head like he could somehow escape the thought. “You people all speak in bloody riddles.”

“No, I’m just telling you something you don’t want to hear.”

Thanks for playing! ❤️

[sketchfanda]

A Little Moxxie Love:Barbie girl,not a Barbie World

God himself only knows how bad things got and what went down between Blitzo and his sister Barbie Wire for her to hate the imp so much that she wanted absolutely nothing to do with him in her life. Christ on a stick she could only hope that shitshow at that Summer camp was the last that she'd ever see of that emotional trainwreck but somehow she had a feeling her luck would be that shitty. The very idea was enough to drive her to drink and that was just exactly what she did, chugging down some of the strongest stuff they had in whatever dive or watering hole she could find to kill her brain cells. Okay so what she got a hangover out of it, it’d be fucking worth it if you asked her!!

At least that was what she tells herself at the time but the splitting headache and blurry vision she had the next morning was a very different story. Her brain feeling like someone was banging a wrecking ball against it as the crawling of a roach sounded way too loud, she opened her eyes to find an unfamiliar ceiling of what was no doubt some cheap ratty speak easy motel. Her body numb and sore all over which could only be signs that she had gotten laid and pretty damn well, Christ on a stick she could smell and feel the stickiness. Wincing as she sat up, vision clearing and adjusting while taking in a mental survey of the damage to the room.

Barbie:”Daaaaaamn when I get drunk, I get drunk…”*Fishing around for her phone as she found it on the floor, she checked the time to find but noticed something peculiar. Apparently her notifications claimed her photo gallery was loaded enough to a point her phone’s memory was almost full.*”How in the fuck? It wasn’t even anywhere 50% last night…….”*Sweet Anti-Christ she hoped she hadn't done anything stupid and fucked up like her brother had, but it was hard to top the guy who stole Verosika Mayday's credit cards after boning her, ditching her then maxing said cards out on horse riding lessons. Seriously, what was up with him and the horses?*

Deciding to chance it and hope there wasn't anything too cringe or incriminating, she unlocked her phone and started with the photos first in order oldest and most recent. Feeling her eyes widen and her jaw drop in absolute shock to find herself in what were very borderline compromising, NSFW type positions and poses. Nudes, lewd selfies and the like all ranging from very sloppy, open air tongue kisses between herself and all too familiar face. That damn little crossdressing pipsqueak underling of her brother's who was undercover trying to bust up her little summer camp smuggling operation!!

Now that she thought about it, apparently something happened not long after she made her escape from Blitzo and his clingy bullshit that went viral involving him and Mill-something, christ what were their names? It still escaped her but each and every picture she examined brought back hazy liquor fuelled moments of the past night in a hazy yet vivid lucidty. Making out with him as he felt up her tits and ass, oh especially her tight bubbly crimson red ass, the phantom sensations of swift stinging slaps making those cheeks clap, the feel of his breath she hugged and held his face in between her perky tits.....Sweet unholy whore of Babylon was she getting wet right now?!! Looking down at her crotch to find not only was that the case but what in all the 9 circles, how much jizz was that?

On further reflection at how sticky she was all over and especially between her legs but also the trashed state of her motel room, Barbie began to wonder not how far she went with..Moxxie, yeah that was the little dude's name, but just how the fuck did get this way? Deciding her memory refresh had to take the plunge down the night before rabbit hole as she began to examine the videos and suffice to say, if she found her body getting treacherously turned on before? Any and all sense of shame went out the window as her morbid curiosity took the helm, tapping play on the first one. Her face soon blushing so badly that it was making her natural skintone look pale as her eyes widened and her jaw dropped further as the audio kicked in.

The Videos all varied in terms of length ranging from a handful of seconds to minutes but all the same as each one kicked in after the other, it came back to Barbie like the rush of pain from taking a mountain goat headbutt to the cooch. Witnessing herself giving Moxxie a blowjob, her eyes glowing with lust as she bobbed her head on what could only be called the biggest cock she'd ever seen!! One that she saw herself choking on in the video as the imp grasped her curved horns and gave her an intense powerful facefucking. Only just occurring to the rehabbed ex circus girl that if she and Moxxie had their hands occupied here...then who the fuck in all the 7 sins was holding the camera?!

A query of course that briefly became forgotten as the video of her blowjob in what could only be considered a corner of whatever watering hole she'd been in last night transitioned into a video of her in what seemed to be the back seat of a very large car, a limo perhaps even? All she could tell was that she was sitting back moaning like a pornstar as Moxxie was eating her out and goddamn if he didn't seem to have quite the gifted tongue. Especially with how her video self was holding onto his horns for dear life as if not wanting him to pry off away from her slit. But then what followed was what had likely lead to her waking up here and now.

There was no mistaking the motel room even in its current undemolished state as it began with her and Moxxie making out in drunken passion as they stripped each naked. Whoever their camera-man or woman even going by the voice(s?) cheering them on as the sequence of videos indicated the passing of time and the progress of the demolition of the room. A dent in the wall as Moxxie pinned her up against it and jackhammered into her like some kind of sex machine, the couch knocked and flipped over as she was bent over it to be taken doggy style before pinned in a mating press with her legs spread up in the air. And of course the absolute declining state of the mattress and bedsheets as she and the secret stud went through a veritable kama sutra of positions.

Each and every video filled in the gaps as her haze cleared with clarity and her body tingled with the phantom sensations of pleasure. The final video playing showing her sleeping, curled in a cozy foetal postion, cum oozing from her overflowing snatch and crimson red skin glistening with sweat. All the while the cutely sleeping little possum was being carried away by some hellhound girl who was cradling him gently so as to not disturb him as the camera turned to show an imp girl who shot her a wink and a smile. Barbie of course managing to recognise her as Moxxie's dam wife who kept her attention as she left her a message.

Millie:"If you ever wanna know how good it is when you're sober, left you a note. Just give us a call and I'm sure we can arrange something..."*Millie of course punctuated this remark with a little kiss blown at the camera. The video finishing leaving barbie to reflect on this media gallery filled with evidence of what had to be the best fuck of her life that she just barely would've remembered. her pussy gushing as it hit her that after that night? No other guy would be able to even come close to that!!*

Barbie of course tried to debate the pros and cons of this as she mulled Millie's words over, finding the aforementioned note pinned on the nightstand by a knife. On the one hand this risked the chance of running into her emotional headcase fuck-up of a brother buuuuuuut it meant getting herself another dose of Moxxie love. It took a few minutes that felt like an eternity before Barbie decided "Fuck it...." and reached for the note. If anything least becoming a moxxie sex addict would be better than the booze and drugs sending her back to fuckdamn rehab, that was for sure!!

[mizu-chin]

Dragon´s Heart "Growth"

*English is not my first language, sorry for any mistakes*

The days passed in the palace of Asmodeus and Fizzarolli, and with them, the bond between S/n and her newly hatched dragon grew. From the moment the tiny creature emerged from the flames of the hearth, an unbreakable connection was formed. S/n named him Cannibal, a name that seemed to echo in the depths of her mind, as if it were always meant to be.

With each sunrise, Cannibal seemed to change a little more, his body growing in size and strength, and his black scales shining with greater intensity. The deep red on his wings and horns became more vivid, like fresh lava in a dormant volcano, creating a striking contrast with the absolute black of his body. The young dragon was already beginning to show signs of intelligence and power, something everyone in the palace noticed and admired.

As Cannibal grew, so did S/n. The little girl, who was once so shy and reserved, now displayed a keen curiosity and a fearless spirit that often surprised Asmodeus and Fizzarolli. She asked questions that sometimes left even the oldest demons perplexed. Her mind was a bottomless well of questions about the world around her, about Hell, the other realms, and the magic that seemed to flow through her veins.

During the day, she spent hours exploring the palace gardens, with Cannibal always by her side. He was already the size of a large hellhound, and his wings, still not fully developed, occasionally flapped in the air, trying to adjust to his growing body. S/n loved to watch her friend take small, clumsy flights, each attempt followed by a look of concentration and then a joyful laugh from her when he stumbled or fell.

One morning, as the infernal sun bathed the palace in its scarlet glow, S/n and Cannibal were in the garden, as usual. The dragon was trying to take off again, his wings beating with more strength and precision than before. S/n, her golden eyes shining with excitement, cheered him on.

"Come on, Cannibal! You can do it!" she encouraged, clapping her hands.

Suddenly, with a powerful flap of his wings, Cannibal managed to lift off the ground, flying to a surprising height for his age. S/n let out a shout of joy, jumping excitedly. The dragon made a circle in the air, but when he tried to land, he ended up crashing into a bush. S/n ran to him, laughing, and helped him out of the leaves.

"You were amazing!" she exclaimed, stroking his head. Cannibal made a sound that resembled a low purr, clearly enjoying the praise.

Asmodeus and Fizzarolli watched from a distance, always vigilant but also amazed at the growth of the two. The relationship between them was not just one of owner and pet; it was something much deeper. Fizzarolli commented with a smile, "She's becoming quite a fearless little girl, isn't she?"

"She is. And Cannibal... well, he's a reflection of her," Asmodeus replied, his voice tinged with pride.

As the days went by, S/n became more skilled and confident. She began to show signs of her own unique magic, something that clearly came from her connection with Cannibal. Small fires would ignite at her command, and she could sense the presence of beings around her without seeing them. Her control was still rudimentary, but everyone knew her potential was extraordinary.

One afternoon, Stolas visited the palace to discuss business with Asmodeus. As he walked through the corridors, he found S/n practicing magic in the courtyard, with Cannibal standing by her side like a protective sentinel. Stolas, with his keen owl eyes, noticed the complexity of what she was attempting.

"S/n, what are you doing?" he asked with genuine curiosity.

"I'm trying to make a fireball float," she replied with a smile, focused on her hands where a small flame flickered in the air.

Stolas smiled, impressed by her determination and boldness. "You know it's not an easy thing to master, especially for a little girl."

She laughed, undeterred. "I know. But Cannibal believes I can do it, so I believe too."

Cannibal, hearing his name, looked at Stolas, his nostrils releasing a small puff of smoke, as if warning the prince not to underestimate his mistress. Stolas raised an eyebrow and chuckled softly.

Their growth was not just physical. The dragon and the girl were maturing together, their skills and confidence developing in unison. As S/n became wiser, Cannibal seemed to learn from her, understanding her emotions and responding to them. Sometimes, when she became frustrated with a difficult lesson or her own limitations, the dragon would lay his head in her lap, offering silent comfort.

As the weeks passed, it became clear to everyone in the palace that S/n and Cannibal were inseparable. When one was happy, so was the other; when one was in danger, the other became fierce. Cannibal grew with S/n, not just in size—he grew in loyalty, wisdom, and strength.

And so, each passing day was another page written in the story of two extraordinary beings who, despite being so different, were destined to walk together, side by side, in the vast and unpredictable world of Hell.

[steel--fairy]

drabble -- mermaid au part 4

hey i finally put this on ao3! go there to read the previous parts ig! i'll put the soulmate au up in a day or two. whenever i come up with a name lol

i think this is the longest chapter so far? if just over 600 words can be considered long lol

Wallace desperately tried not to laugh as Steven tried to unstick his fingers from the ice pillar he touched. While Wallace had explained that ice was very cold, Steven had still wanted to touch it. However, his skin contained far more moisture than a human leaving his hand completely attached to the ice.

He should probably do something. While funny, poor Steven was beginning to look a bit panicked. A good friend didn’t leave their friend in trouble, no matter how funny it was.

“Darius, melt the ice, please.”

His Swampert didn’t know any Fire type moves, but he did have a solid control over Ice Type Energy from years of manipulating it for Contests. It was nothing for Darius to slightly warm up the area around Steven’s hand, allowing the mer to unstick himself.

Steven sighed in relief, cradling his hand close to his body. He beamed at Wallace and then Darius. “Thank you so much! You were right, it does seem to be quite cold!”

Only years of PR training kept Wallace from snorting.

“Of course,” he said, beyond amused. “I still have things to do in this cave and I do need Darius for them. I couldn’t let him stay in one spot while you continued your struggle.”

If the mer wasn’t already flushed from the cold, Wallace was sure he would’ve blushed then.

“O-oh, I’m quite sorry. I don’t mean to intrude on your tasks.”

Wallace lazily waved his hand. “It’s nothing. I’m simply here to catch a Pokemon. I can’t do that until I find the Pokemon and we haven’t come across it yet.”

Steven tilted his head to the side. “Catch a Pokemon?”

He didn’t—ah, no that made sense. Poke Balls were originally made from Apricorns, a fruit whose tree certainly didn’t live underwater. If mer had something similar, Wallace didn’t know.

Wallace brought out the Dive Ball he’d planned to capture his Spheal in. Steven reverentially took it from Wallace. “This is a Poke Ball. A Dive Ball, specifically. It captures a Pokemon and can hold them indefinitely.”

The awe in Steven’s eyes was endearing. He turned the Dive Ball around in his hands, carefully examining it. He seemed to quickly figure out how it worked, clicking on the button in the middle to open the empty Poke Ball. He flinched slightly as it swung open but seemed just as curious about the inside. He ran a finger lightly over it, seemingly entranced by the technology that couldn’t exist underwater.

“And it’s safe?” He eventually asked, not looking up from the Dive Ball. “For the Pokemon?”

“Of course,” Wallace immediately replied, scratching Darius behind one of his fins. Darius hummed in contentment. “They’ve been around for centuries now. More than enough time to improve and make them safer than ever.”

“Fascinating.” Bright curiosity shone in Steven’s eyes as he looked over to Wallace with a grin. “You’ll show me how it works, yes? I’ve never imagined that anything like this could exist! I have to see it in action!”

Wallace chuckled, taking the Dive Ball back from Steven and minimizing it. Steven avidly watched the whole process, even when Wallace stored it back in his bag. “Well, while you’re on Darius, we’re stuck with each other. You’ll have no choice but to see me capturing a Spheal.”

Steven clapped excitedly, while his tail flapped against Darius’ side. “Excellent! I can’t wait!” He turned that radiant smile towards Wallace. “This day is better than anything I could have ever imagined. Thank you so much, Wallace.” Wallace reflexively smiled back, but he found himself turning red, and not just because it was cold.

[lgcseojin]

—  LGC CAFE: ✱  TRACK 007  ( TRACKLIST & SOLO )

Please Don’t... — K.Will Cry For Love — Shin A Story Sadder Than Sorrow — Kim Bumsoo (More Than Blue OST) I Will Go To You Like The First Snow — Woohee (Goblin OST) Back in time — Lyn (Moon Embracing the Sun OST)

Seojin had no true intention of weaving a story into the tracks chosen for his performance. The progression of the songs and the emotions and lyrical workings they contained was entirely unintentional. Something innate or subconscious congruent to his current dilemma involving matters of the heart. It told every bit of a roller coaster of emotions experienced by an individual perhaps too foolish to see the true answers right in front of him.

Coach Jeong fluttered over the titles with a quirk of a brow in the trainee’s direction. Whether from genuine concern or sheer curiosity, one could not be overly certain. ( He initially expected something with a bit more of a rock tone but Seojin rarely could be described as predictable. ) Seojin had been endlessly pleased with himself for getting his selection and run-throughs of the performance approved, even if it meant repeatedly singing songs rife with a sense of sorrow. More aptly — a broken heart.

Perhaps it was his own dramatic tendencies speaking, exaggerating the situation at hand into something it was not. Regardless, he would be pouring his heart and soul into the songs, no matter if his circumstances improved or not. Acting the part and properly conveying the lyrics was a rather important skill for any singer to have, after all. Without it, he would be reduced to a technically nice voice with none of the impact.

He stepped onto the stage, a large gulp of water poured down his throat before he introduced himself. Clearly, it was not his first time addressing a crowd in this manner.

“Hello, my name is Park Seojin. I’m glad to see everyone who decided to come out here today. Without even meaning to... my setlist kinda has a theme. When you desperately long for someone and want them to come back into your life and stay there. I think this will hit anyone who has been feeling this way, and I hope my voice can provide you with comfort.” He was getting ahead of himself.

“The entire set will be from singers that I look up to and respect a lot. Hopefully, I’ll do them justice.” He shot the audience a smile before standing by the stool positioned in front of the microphone, his left hand wrapping around the stem.

A familiar drum beat and guitar rhythm filled the room and a few of the audience members let out a knowing ‘oo’ when they recognized the famous K.Will song. Unexpectedly, his expression changed throughout his singing, matching the feeling of the music and lyrics. Even the occasional gesture with his hand  He became fully immersed, projecting every nuance as if it were he who had written them.

A stop between the first two songs and the next three did little to set him back into reality. His eyes remained downcast, collecting the words that tumbled at his feet. He waited until the tepid clapping stopped to proceed with his commentary.

“For the rest of the tracks— “ He cleared his throat and reached for the water bottle once more. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea to pick these. Everything just makes me think of you... “I will be singing OSTs from some dramas. I’m sure you all will know them well. Especially the last one. Feel free to sing along quietly if you know the words.” His eyes flicked upward, then scanned over the audience, shooting them another nod and smile — though far more subdued.

He sat this time, backing away from the microphone stand as the tender piano music began and he would sing out a few starting runs alongside it. Due to the fairly long introduction, Seojin took it upon himself to speak briefly. “Sunbaenims, I respect you.” It earned a handful of laughs and a moment of levity in between the sorrowful theme.

For a moment, he assumed he could set his heavy heart to the wayside but the relatable lyrics from Woohee’s emotional and touching I Will Go To You Like The First Snow proved enough to reel him back in. His throat tightened on the edge of the words, one or two of which he was forced to skip in a bid to compose himself. Park Seojin would be damned if he got choked up in public, in front of a crowd of strangers, no less.

I started to become greedy I wanted to live with you, grow old with you Hold your wrinkled hands And say how warm my life was

The final line of the final song, perhaps, acted as a sort of reassurance to himself. He did not plan it, only viewing Back in Time to be a gentle and less vocally demanding tie up. “I will be okay.” Not a question, nor an uncertain statement. An affirmation that would come to pass.