#he was keeping to himself for the most part and staying on the outskirts - same | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

g1rlken · 3 months

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┏ 𝐅𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐌𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐬 ┐

part3.

Alex turner x fem!actress reader

an: this part gives slightly “the Peter” by Taylor Swift vibes

word count: 3.6k+

Warnings: mention of depression

It was difficult to keep on going on your whim, time and time again looking for reasons to belittle or make it difficult for y/n to work on this project. She absolutely regretted come to this godawful grassland for the world’s pettiest man’s song. Not that he hadn’t moved on, y/n would see him: hand around shoulder, slipping down the waist as he’d laugh with one of those model stand ins. Every meal. The common dining area of the hotel they stayed at, Alex was the charming machine to all these lady guests of his. She couldn’t keep on distracting herself talking to the rest of crew, small talk was fine and longer conversations were embarrassing. She felt ambushed talking about her acting hiatus because the general narrative was that she got way too into her own head, she probably did but what business was that to the intern Sam who was a disguised coffee guy. She kept on telling herself and everyone else that the ‘whole thing’ wasn’t a ‘big deal’ but god forbid someone mentions an award function, her tone would immediately get guarded as if she was being tested. As if she was on that stage again being a laughingstock. Too much. She didn’t talk at all, hence decided to order room service for almost all her meals.

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” Y/n exclaimed slumping her shoulders down. There was a rain forecast on their original location so they changed production to a planned cliff, second day of the same shoot and the municipality shut down entry to the place because of supposed lightning forecast. It was taking forever to finish this godforsaken music video.

“They said they’re closing it for a week.” Richard informed her with a sigh, bummed out himself. Too much time on production as it is, getting to a peculiar location as such. From the centre to outskirts through the hilly roads it was already such a hustle only to find the place shut down. “The studio said we might as well extend a while for the location since we came all this way.”

The whole crew was growing increasingly restless on this project, no more than y/n and no less than Alex who was apparently enjoying the sights. A smirk on his face, clicking a picture of the no entry sign for the joke of it, snickering as he did so. It just fuelled her annoyance. “Cant we just shoot here? We drove four hours to come here!” Y/n proposed pointing to the open grass landscape, the whole place was just gigantic dunes of grass and grey skies. The first two days of shoot, it was beautiful. With more and more delays it was the most daft place ever.

“We have done the landscape part we need a cliff shot now…” Richard trailed off with a sigh, “Look, guys, let’s stay positive yeah? We can maybe find a new location”

“We can’t, they close the roads by sundown remember? It’s already 2, I don’t think we can make it.” Alex added into the conversation, his tone was laced with amusement so bad it made y/n infuriated but she didn’t say a word given he was a master of creating a scene. Absolute zero fellowship in him, he was enjoying everyone else’s suffering coming all this way just to spite her.

“Don’t we have a pass for it? With the shooting permit?” Y/n inquired about it, such remote locations generally allow access to a shooting team on permit.

“Guess who forgot it at the hotel?” Giving a disappointed look to Sam, the coffee guy/intern.

Deadpanning her face y/n rubbed her eyes, taking in a deep breath. Disappointment clouded her problem solving abilities “Don’t we have any cliff other equivalent location in this stupid place?” She said with a scoff. Every place looked identical anyways.

“What a great idea!” Alex exclaimed ironically joining his hands together, his classic taunting was about to follow “How about we find her a park bench, will that be cliff equivalent for you?”

It had already been a lot of days of this mockery and a miserable time here. At hotel, the locations, failed shoots, his constant jabs were resulting in a lot of piled agitation. “Shut the fuck up.” She said blatantly.

Richard widened his eyes as did the crew, they were busy in finding network to make the maps work and Google nearest new locations but this was rather difficult to not be moved by, Alex too, “excuse me?” he was taken aback to say at least. Raising a brow he leant forward as to express his offended demeanour.

“The whole crew is really tired, we all woke at 4 am. Packing, equipment, dress, make up-to drive all the way here only to not shoot. If you can’t contribute stop irritating people who are actually working.” She told him off crossing her arms, shifting her weight on one leg.

“Is that so? What are you doing except for whining?” Alex said with a bitter laugh.

“This is stupid” she shook her head, instantly deciding to not engage anymore given she was here for work not engage in petty conversation with him besides in front of the whole crew it was anyways unprofessional. “You’re unreasonable” she waved her hand in mid air, crossing her arms as she was turning away.

“You haven’t changed a bit. Go on go leave, you’ve never had it in yourself to stay when things get difficult.” Alex scoffed, absolutely unfiltered in front of the whole crew perhaps purposely harsh.

“Alex, I’m being professional here you don’t have to go that far.” She replied with a frown on her face, surface level comprehension of his words which she knew would hurt so much, they already were but she wanted to be removed from this conversation before he made matters worse.

“Oh you’re being professional now?” To him, anything to do with her wasn’t professional. For exaggeration, if she even breathed in his direction he was agitated. Just a huge grudge to not see beyond professionalism. “Such a professional in everything you messed up your most serious two year long relationship.”

“I know it wasn’t mutual and I regret you were hurt but this isn’t the place to have that conversation now-“ she tried to reason with him in a subtle way, instead of biting back like him she could’ve approached with bitterness of how it’s been half a year since they parted, how he was seemingly moving on yet constantly berating her for leaving.

“You don’t get to decide where and when we have this conversation? You’ve already decided enough for me.” He said mockingly, his gaze fixated on her as he stared her down. He wasn’t aware for the root of his hurt and anger, originally he knew it was because she left him yes. But other than that, the fact that she felt like just waltzing back into his life through small talk or the fact that she didn’t waltz back into his life. It was the later. She decided to break up without of a second thought because she deemed it right for him, thinking she was a burden. She decided to leave for him and all he wanted was her. Back then and even now he didn’t know what he was trying to prove to her but it was surely drifting her father from him and he didn’t know how to stop that so he just let his anger out, “Tell me, is it better now? You learned to cook did you? You take your own meds on time…if you actually do? You attend all possible award shows you’re nominated in?” He scoffed, reminding her all such things he was helping her through and she refused him. He couldn’t stomach that she wanted to heal without him and it was a rather low blow when he mentioned the award show thing, she didn’t attend award shows at all even now. He kept tabs even after the break up because It brought him a sort of reassurance that she wasn’t completely alright, not without him. He loved her so infatuatedly he didn’t know how to act.

Y/n was sick to her stomach as he went on and on, in front of everyone just spewing out her personal miseries. “You don’t get to play the martyr just because I didn’t want your help.” To think that man that once hand fed her all which he cooked, with so much love, the man who set alarms to remind her for her medicines and the award show thing. He knew it was and still is a sensitive subject for her, he put her in the exact same situation like back up at that stage again. Right now amongst the camera crew, it was just a handful of people and y/n felt increasingly uncomfortable yet he didn’t stop talking.

“I’m not playing the martyr but I didn’t asked to get left either.” He said emphasising on the word ‘didn’t’ right back at her. He wouldn’t say it but this whole lashing out was not because she didn’t want his help but because she didn’t want him and that still word.

“It’s been…” she paused, “six months.” It was really hard to see him say all that so easily and she could barely formulate words trying to fight back tears simultaneously. Just how could he show indifference so such extent.

“I’m aware.” He scoffed changing his stance looking away for one second, contemplating if he should go on because he did take a not of her quivering voice she always did that when she was about to cry, he could recall from their time together and that reminder just fuelled him even more. He knew her like the back of his hand back then, even now, yet she walked way. “You were scared I’d leave you if I got to know you were depressed but when I chose to stay you were even more scared and left me. It is so difficult to love let alone work with you!”

“Work, yes of course” she nodded slowly registering the hurt of his words bit by bit because he was going further from far. “I’m going to go revise…” she told Richard, rest of the crew as well. All who’d been witnessing this conflict awkwardly and painfully silently. Y/n couldn’t look at anyone’s faces as she walked back to the trailer, it was a bus in itself because the whole crew travelled together but if the universe had any ounce of mercy left for her nobody would join her this very moment. Her ears were numb to the silent background, she thought Alex would have the last word surely but he didn’t. She walked the longest walk back to the trailer, closing the door behind her. There was a heavy feeling in her chest, the mechanical setting of sadness. Her heart racing, mind replaying the whole ordeal. Every word, everyone’s surprised faces. She wanted to break down, tears already brimmed her eyes but then again if they were to resume shooting on a new location the very same day her eyes would be so puffy and displaying that to the makeup crew. After everything they witnessed, absolutely not. She paced back and forth air drying her tears, trying to divert her mind. She did. She thought about the dreadful night of their breakup again, she must’ve put Alex in this very situation back then. His pleading, begging voice. The man who was on his knees for her who wanted her to do anything but leave, just how right now she wanted him to do anything but keep talking. But well, both things happened and the later was the consequence of the first one. She had nobody but herself to blame and the inherent guilt crept right back in.

Thankfully, there was no resumed shooting later that day given the rain check was really bad to commute to another location as well so the crew all returned back to the hotel. Four hours, just staring out the window. Fixated completely y/n didn’t even look at anyone the entire ride and nobody approached her even. Straight into her room at the hotel, for dinner she ordered just room service. After an awaited long breakdown in her room she couldn’t go down and have dinner with the rest of them, the breakdown session was as it is evident on her face plus everything was so awkward after the whole ordeal. Everyone looked at her with agitating sympathy, as if her dog had passed.

She opened the door to “Room service!” knock, taking the food in, not exactly meeting the eyes somewhat hiding her face as if she was some alleyway dealer. “Thanks.”

“Miss y/l/n, I’m really sorry for what you’re going through.” The room service guy told her out of courtesy and also genuine compassion.

“What?” She was immediately confused, what exactly was he referring to?

“The whole…your ex-I was there.” He explained, not sure how exactly to term Alex lashing out on her in front of everyone. But he wanted her to know his sympathies lay with her “I was assigned by the hotel to the filming crew as a local here” he said referring to why exactly he was there in the first place.

“Oh.” Y/n nodded, wonderful. This whole interaction had the same feeling of a funeral when someone explains how they’re related to the person in subject however in this case y/n was full well alive. “Yeah…thanks. Thanks a lot.”

“For the record, I’ve seen almost all of your movies and I have loved you in every single one of them and your order is the most easiest order to make. So you’re not difficult to love or work with I’ll have you know.” He tried to be hospitable and also as a fan, he felt really bad for the actress in question. His heart was there, trying to offer kind words but it just made y/n feel ambushed.

“That’s-that’s really sweet.” She nodded with a small smile regardless. What a time! Even absolute strangers feel sympathetic to her and Alex who-no. “It means a lot…”

“Always. If you need anything, the restaurant is open till 11.” He said politely and pushed out the empty cart out of her room and bid her goodnight.

Just as she was about to close the door as the cart moved out, a foot stepped in the middle refraining her from closing it completely so she opened it instead to see who it was. “Hi.” Alex said as he tilted his head forward, he didn’t think she’d actually open the door to him.

Y/n just took a deep breath, visibly raising her guard she did not have anything to say him at this point and she couldn’t believe he had something more to say. She just stood there, trying to appear stiff but with just the first glance he could tell she had been crying. Crying really bad. He wanted to apologise, after a lot of thinking over the words shared he felt like he crossed a line. Especially with what he said, he said in front of everyone. He messed up. Apologies came cheap, he didn’t know what to say. “The shots from yesterday came in, it’s good. It’s great. Beautiful-you were beautiful.”

Tears were already formulating her eyes, just at the sight of him. The casualty of his tone after what he did, she wanted the slam the door in his face so that’s what she attempted too. Slowly closing the door but he stopped her again, “please, can we talk”

“Just go…” she sighed averting her gaze from him so he wouldn’t get the satisfaction of seeing her cry. He leant a bit lower to see her face, conforming the tears she was trying to hide. He wanted to reach out and hold her but he was just out here in the lobby. He experimented professing further and she did let him inside, dejectedly moving aside y/n just didn’t want to see his face anymore.

Getting inside Alex softly closed the door behind him, anxiously she was pacing back and forth. He once made fun of her, he called this method of hers “air-drying tears, love?” he asked. She did not want him here in the first place so he didn’t breach that boundary, stopping by the small of hallway to her hotel room a few steps by the door.

“Why are you even here?” She asked firmly as she had been successful to air dry her tears back. It wasn’t pride, maybe on the prideful spectrum but she would not cry in front of him even though it hurt like hell.

“I know I can’t make things right after what I said today, I shouldn’t have said that. Especially not in front of everyone like that-you, you were at work.” He said in a calm tone leaning against the wall, “I’m sorry…I’m really sorry.”

“Okay.” She nodded without even looking at him, barely acknowledging his words because she was fixated on not breaking down at this very second.

“That’s it?” He asked, not frustrated just underwhelmed that his genuine apology accounted for so much less? “Okay?” He couldn’t tell if she was okay with it in a true sense or if she was being passive aggressively ignorant about it.

“What do you want me to say?” Y/n asked scrunching her brows as she crossed her arms.

“We are not at the best terms, I know. We both messed up, you were trying to be civil. Today I crossed a big line, I know. I really want to just make things right-“

“Then why don’t you just leave?!” She stopped his self serving closure set apology mid way, “You are here in the first place just to spite me aren’t you? To give me a hard time and so far Alex, you have been very successful-“ she was so angry, she couldn’t hold her her tears anymore as they streamed down her face breaking her voice.

“Hey, hey” he cooed softly as he approached her in small steps. Ever since he saw her face, evidence of a long breakdown on it he had wanted to just pull her into his embrace. Now she was crying again and he couldn’t fight the urge as he gently placed his hands on her shoulder to soothe her.

The familiarity of his touch, his consolation punched y/n back to the good years just him and her and they rarely had these moments where she would be falling apart but she knew that if she did, he’d be there. Just like how he was here. But this time it wasn’t healthy, this wasn’t right even if it felt so. She pulled herself away from him shaking her head as she sat on the bed of her hotel room crying into her hands.

Hesitantly he followed her, this was all so instinctive. “Y/n…” he trailed off as he knelt in front of her as she sat on the edge of the bed. She had covered her face with her hands so he tried to gently remove them as to see her face. “It’s alright, you’re alright.” He soothed as he finally got to see her weeping face. He kept on wiping her tears as new flew down her face. “You are so much stronger than this, you’ve been okay before. You’ll be okay again, just breathe.” This is what he was perfect at, piecing her back together. She held the colour only his paint brush knew.

This scenario was almost like an extremely long déjà vu, this exact scenario y/n had been here so many times. Him comforting her, so willingly and so warm. As if it was worth being this hurt, she couldn’t get words out through her crying, that perfectly but she didn’t have to for he already knew. To be loved is to be known and he knew her like she was the last thing he’d ever know, the last he’d learn. “Can I hold you?” He asked softly, eyes expectant for a yes.

Nodding she hesitantly met his eyes and she recognised Alex for Alex. After so long, she didn’t think about anything else but the familiarity of the lover she once held. The one who was holding her now. He stood up and sat beside holding her, enlacing his arms around her. A warm embrace shielding her from an awful time he inflicted on her.

She returned his embrace as well, his hand rubbing her back in a repetitive motion her weeping dying down but he didn’t let go. He didn’t want to.

Alex nestled her closer to him, words unsaid and a vague understanding. Neither of them broke the cocoon of warmth. It almost felt like a fever dream to y/n, she wasn’t aware of any reality she’d let herself be in this situation in. But here she was. Slowly drifting off to sleep in his arms. He could tell she was, he settled the two of them in a lay-down position on the bed. He didn’t think she could fall asleep and he also didn’t want to move. With her small grip at his shirt with the two of them cuddling he figured she wouldn’t want him to leave either.

He planned to leave silently once she was sound asleep, as time went on he didn’t realise when he drifted off to sleep too. Just holding her in his arms, cuddling the two of them slept on their grievances entangled with one another.

—

HIII!!! I’ve got like two more chapters left to this pls let me know what you think or I will d!3 and don’t forget to drink water xx

@indierockgirrl @turnersverse @ladydraculasthings @libertyybellls @kelizai @sagegreensimmr @supernaturalandpain

#alex turner x reader #alex turner #alex turner fanfic #alex turner x y/n #alex turner x reader fluff #alex turner x you #alex turner imagine #arctic monkeys x reader #arctic monkeys fanfic

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sparkle-fiend · 2 years

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So I saw this prompt by @throwusaboner about the Harrington’s trading Steve to fae! Eddie for wealth and success, and I kind of ran with it.

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

He was Fae. A wild thing - a spirit of music and curiosity. Once upon a time, he amused himself by taking part in the world of mortals; walking among them and watching their lives, making the occasional bargain when it was interesting. But many long years had passed since that was the case. Most humans had forgotten his kind.

That's why he was so surprised to come across the offering in the woods. A splash of color laid out on a tree stump - expensive hothouse flowers in the middle of winter, bright against the grey bark and white snow. It kindled his curiosity.

He lingered, visiting the grove of trees again and again, finding new gifts every time: a bowl of milk and a loaf of sweet bread, an antique silver comb, a finely worked wool scarf. When he found the silver ring set with onyx, he finally decided to wait and greet whoever it was that seemed to be trying to summon one of the Fae.

They crunched through the crust of snow together, hand in hand. A handsome young couple, well-matched: the man was tall and broad, with a pleasing face despite the harsh clench of his jaw, and the woman had warm hazel eyes that glowed nearly golden in the late afternoon light. They stopped short at the sight of him, and the woman gasped out loud.

"So many gifts; you must have a request in mind. What would you ask of me, mortals?"

The man stepped forward boldly, meeting his eyes without hesitation. "I want riches and success to rival my father."

Money and power. Yawn.

"And what do you offer me in return?"

"My firstborn child," the man said, unflinching.

That was more interesting. There were plenty stories of Fae dealing for human children, but in reality, he’d never been offered such a price – not in all his long years. He looked to the woman, who only lowered her eyes and nodded.

He had been alone for a long time, wandering as a raven or a wolf, watching the changing world from its outskirts. It was perhaps a reckless deal to agree to - but he was a reckless creature. "I accept. On the last day of the child's 18th year, it will become mine."

Bargain made; he could have disappeared until the appointed time. But the notion struck him that it might be interesting to stay close, in a form that would let him interact as well as observe.

He didn't have to go far to find what he needed - another mortal, a woman longing for a child that her body couldn't give. Evelyn Munson was overjoyed by her little foundling baby – so happy she didn’t bother to ask too many questions.

He expected the human to feed him and shelter him. He didn’t expect her to have a passion for music that rivalled his own, or for her to name him Eddie, after her favorite song - which she sang to him every night while combing her fingers through his wild, dark curls. He didn’t expect her stories or games or her gentle hands guiding his small fingers over the strings of a guitar.

Most of all, he never could have expected the way she loved him – fierce and gentle at the same time, enduring in a way that was unfamiliar. The emotions of the Fae were flicker-quick, flashing like lightning – here and gone. Evelyn taught him a softer kind of love, enduring and constant as the stars.

If she ever guessed that her odd, eccentric child wasn't human, it never changed her feelings for him. When she died ten years later, he was devastated. He might have abandoned the mortal realm in his grief, if not for Wayne - who took him in and loved him just as well as Evelyn had.

And Steve, of course. Firstborn son of Richard and Margaret Harrington, the couple he'd bargained with in 1965. The boy was difficult to keep track of for the first few years - they lived very different lives, separated by more than just the distance of a town between them. Eddie hadn’t anticipated that when he embarked on his plan.

When he found Steve again, in the halls of Hawkins Middle School, Eddie was captivated. Steve was beautiful, with the best qualities of both parents: the promise of his father's broad shoulders and square jaw, his mother's warm hazel eyes. And he had a mischievous smile that was all his own. Unfortunately, he was in the grade below Eddie's, and there wasn't much opportunity to become friends.

It was worse in high school. Steve quickly climbed the ranks of popularity (unsurprising, since he'd inherited a portion of the charm given to his father as part of the bargain with Eddie). The handsome boy was surrounded by sycophants and flatterers, befriended by bullies. Eddie was bitterly disappointed to see Steve's indifference to the cruel antics of his so-called 'friends'. He started to worry he'd made a mistake. Richard Harrington was a hard man, callous and cruel - was it really any wonder his son was turning out the same way?

Then Steve fell in love with Nancy Wheeler, and things started to change. The obnoxious friends disappeared, and Steve seemed to be making a real effort to be kinder. Even his smile was different – brighter and sweeter, unfettered.

Eddie wasn't jealous (he was a little jealous). Steve could dabble with human girls all he liked, but it was Eddie's name - his true name - that was stamped on the boy's heart like a brand.

*******

When Eddie failed senior year, he wasn’t concerned. Repeating a year of high school meant staying close to Steve; with the added benefit of being able to stay in Hellfire Club, where he could keep playing Dungeons & Dragons (one of his favorite discoveries in the mortal world, second only to heavy metal music).

Three months after the start of Eddie's second senior year (two months after Steve's 18th birthday), Nancy and Steve broke up. A week after that, Steve and Eddie finally spoke to one another for the first time, at a house party thrown by Vicki Carmichael.

Eddie was surprised when he spotted Steve at the party, considering Vicki was friends with Carol and Tommy H. He was even more surprised when he got a clear view of Steve’s face – battered and mottled with bruises and cuts. Concerned, Eddie trailed after him as he snagged a solo cup full of spiked punch and slipped out the back door.

The rear patio was deserted, despite the cheerful strings of fairy lights illuminating the space. The night was young – none of the other partygoers were drunk enough yet to brave the chill November night air.

Eddie settled silently near Steve, sitting on the concrete retaining wall and ignoring the immediate cold seeping through the worn denim of his jeans. He flipped open his black lunchbox and pulled out a joint, nudging Steve’s arm before holding it out.

Steve shook his head. “I don’t have any cash on me.”

“On the house,” Eddie said. “Consider it medicinal. Your face is, uh… pretty messed up.”

Steve snorted with laughter and then winced, pressing his fingers to his temple. “Yeah, no kidding.” He accepted the joint and tucked it behind his ear, and then took a long sip from his drink.

“What happened?” Eddie asked.

Tell me who did this to you, his heart screamed. Tell me who I have to kill. I will turn them into stone, into sand, into a vapor so fine it won’t even settle into dust. Steve was his, and he hated seeing him hurt.

Steve just sighed. “It’s a long story.”

“Well I’ve got all night Harrington.”

Steve gave him the bare bones of a story which felt mostly true, except for all the empty spaces. Eddie wondered at those gaps – what was Steve hiding? The actual name of his attacker for one, although Eddie could guess who it was well enough. (Going forward, Billy Hargrove wouldn’t be able to get within 10 feet of Steve without experiencing a sense of debilitating nausea.)

After that, they started meeting on a somewhat regular basis. Hanging together on the fringes of parties, late night encounters at the quarry - Steve even came to the trailer a few times. Always with the excuse of smoking together, but the real goal was conversation and the easy companionship slowly growing between them. The more Eddie learned about Steve, the more he wanted to know. He was fascinating - like a puddle that appeared shallow until you stepped in and sank to your neck.

On one such night, sitting bundled in the back of Eddie's van, Steve told him about the implosion of his relationship with Nancy.

"She said it was all bullshit. I thought we were really in love, ya know? I was really in love."

Eddie did know. He could feel it - Steve's honesty. Just like he could sense the discordance of a lie when he used to pass the two of them in the hallway at school. It wasn't Nancy lying to Steve, not on purpose. It was Nancy lying to herself.

Steve talked about his relationship with his parents too. "They're so distant sometimes. Or uh, all the time, I guess. They're hardly ever home anymore."

Eddie felt a pang of remorse. He had nothing to do with the failure of Steve's relationship with Nancy (tempted though he may have been), but this hurt was one Eddie had some part in.

He'd made the bargain on a whim, a passing fancy. The Harrington's were an attractive couple, so it stood to reason their child would also be attractive. And he enjoyed the company of lovely mortals. The Fae were creatures of desire - hungry and passionate, often self-absorbed, distant from the concerns of mortals.

He hadn't thought beyond his desire for a companion. Never considered the child, or how his parents would treat him. Why grow attached to a baby with an expiration date? A son they had already given away; traded in exchange for wealth and fortune.

Maybe it didn’t matter. The sort of humans that would barter a child probably weren’t capable of real love. Not the kind of love he’d learned from Evelyn and Wayne.

His feelings for Steve were becoming all tangled up. There was desire, and a territorial sense of possessiveness, but there was also a growing sense of fondness and affection – and maybe something deeper. A feeling he had no concept of before he took a human form, and a human name.

*******

The school year ended. Steve graduated; Eddie did not. It stung a little the second time around - even though Eddie knew school had been the very last thing on his mind all year. Steve's father made a fuss about his son’s failure to get into college, even though Eddie knew the man didn't actually care. As a result, Steve ended up getting a job at the new mall (and Eddie developed a sudden, frequent craving for ice cream).

He wasn’t expecting anything out of the ordinary to happen that summer; or he never would have driven two days out of state to see Accept play at the Red Rocks Amphitheatre in Colorado. He was on his way home, still five hours out from Hawkins, when he sensed it. A darkness – something inhuman and strange, from a dimension outside both the mortal realm and the Otherworld of the Fae. It filled him with dread.

He could see the red glow of flames against the night clouds as soon as he reached Hawkins town limits, the acrid scent of smoke seeping in through the vents of his van. When he realized it was coming from Starcourt, he broke every speed limit, screeching into the parking lot to a scene of chaos – emergency vehicles and flashing lights everywhere, the fire department making a valiant attempt to contain the flames consuming the mall.

When Eddie was first adjusting to life as a human, he’d gone exploring in the woods behind the trailer park, enjoying the novelty of his new form. When Evelyn found him hours later, she was frantic, crying and cursing even as she squeezed him tight enough to bruise. He never understood the conflicting emotions – not until he finally laid eyes on Steve, sitting alone by the Beemer. The other boy looked beat to hell, squinting his one good eye as he looked up. When he recognized Eddie, his lips curled into a heart stopping smile. Eddie wanted to cry and curse like Evelyn had. He wanted to wrap the other boy in his arms and shield him from harm.

For the first time, Eddie found himself dreading the final day of Steve’s 18th year. He didn’t want a magical thrall anymore, devoid of free will or personality. He wanted Steve – wanted to love him the way humans loved.

The feeling got even worse with the start of his third senior year, when he finally got to meet some of the kids Steve was always talking about. He was adorable with them, like an overgrown puppy imprinted on by a bunch of ducklings, doing his best even when they bewildered him. He loved them selflessly, the way Evelyn once loved a baby she’d found in the woods.

When the appointed day arrived, Eddie ignored it. He went to school as usual, dutifully attending all his classes, and then Hellfire in the evening. It only required a minor nudge of magic to ensure the weather would be nice, so that the kids would ride their bikes home rather than get a ride from Steve.

He was clearing up after the game, snuffing all the candles out when the sound of a throat clearing startled him into turning around. Steve was standing, half hidden in shadow, watching him with hooded eyes.

"Jesus H. Christ, what are trying to do Harrington - give me a heart attack?" Eddie said.

Steve shrugged and moved closer, leaning against the game table. There were strange undercurrents of emotion moving around him, a crackling feeling of tension, like a storm looming over the horizon. "It's my birthday tomorrow."

Eddie's throat went dry. "If you're fishing for information on a surprise party, you're barking up the wrong tree. Henderson hasn't told me anything." He busied himself with clearing away his figures and notes, stuffing everything into his backpack without his usual meticulous care.

"My mom called."

That prompted Eddie to stop and look up. He was immediately pinned by Steve's intent gaze.

"She told me something... crazy. Apparently, my family is rich because my dad made a deal with one of the Fae?"

Eddie choked out a thin laugh. "Sounds like a fairy tale."

"Yeah, I thought so too. But she was serious about it. She told me the whole story, about how they left all kinds of gifts to summon the Fae. And one of those gifts was a ring that belonged to my grandmother."

Eddie couldn't stop himself from flinching and glancing down at his hand. At the silver ring set with onyx, which he'd held onto for twenty years.

Steve let out a long, shaky breath. "It's true, isn't it? You're the Fae."

Eddie can't lie. Not when confronted directly. "Yes."

“So how does this work? What… what happens now?”

Eddie shook his head, hands clutched into fists. “Nothing. I changed my mind.” He wasn’t expecting the hurt that flickered in those hazel eyes.

“Why?” Steve whispered.

“Because… I’m not the person I was before. And I care about you too much to trap you like that.” He pulled the silver and onyx ring off his finger and held it out. “You should have this back.”

Steve took the ring, turning it over in his fingers thoughtfully before tucking it into his pocket. Eddie thought he would go home then, but he didn’t. He stayed and helped Eddie finish cleaning up, and then followed him back to the trailer. They shared a joint, passing it back and forth while Eddie kept a subtle eye on his watch.

At the stroke of midnight, he let out a sigh as he felt the contract dissolve. “You’re free,” he said softly.

Steve leaned over Eddie in order to snuff the remains of the joint in the ash tray on the side table. When it was done, he didn’t go back to his own side of the sofa – he swung a leg over Eddie’s hips and settled in his lap while Eddie stared up at him, wide-eyed. Steve took hold of his left hand and kissed the back of it softly, before pulling the silver and onyx ring from his pocket. He slipped it back onto Eddie’s finger, right over the tan line.

“I want to make a bargain,” Steve said, holding his gaze steady.

“What would you ask of me?” Eddie whispered.

Steve ran his thumb over Eddie’s hand, still gripped between his own. “What would be the cost, to make you mine?”

Eddie drew in a sharp breath. He tilted his head back and closed his eyes, considering. It was a reckless bargain – but it seemed he was still a reckless creature.

“Love me. Love me and I will belong to you forever.”

Steve smiled slow and sweet, like wildflower honey. “Well that’s easy.”

They sealed the deal with a kiss.

#tumblr fic #fae!eddie #Eddie Munson is a fae #steddie #Steve Harrington x Eddie Munson #my fic #this was very experimental #and kind of mutated on me #I have no idea if this is any good #long post

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clubdionysus · 4 months

Text

[BAD DECISION #27] Keeping Quiet

warnings: angst, hayun, cu ajummas, astrology, drinking, enter stage left: park seojoon !!, danbi putting jaykay in his place!!, a shag :( but sad :( nothing quite like yearning for someone who is quite literally inside you!!, unprotected sex, 'byeol baby', 'koo' (waaaa), honestly just big pouty vibes all round!!

wc: 18k

bd total wc: 540k (ongoing)

AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI

"Oh, it's hopeless ," Hayun pouts with a playful whine as she heads down the stairs of an inner-city apartment block. Files in hand detailing all the relevant listings within her budget, it's the third property she and Jeongguk have walked away from that morning. "Has the rental market here seriously gone downhill that badly?"

He nods, sucking a little air between his teeth. "You gotta widen your search. You're looking at, like, the most expensive types of apartment in the most expensive part of town."

'Expensive' has always been Hayun's taste. There's nothing wrong with wanting the finer things in life, especially not if you work hard for it, but she's only been able to pick up part-time work as a seamstress since she's been back.

It's exactly the same sort of work she had been doing up in Seoul - but working in a tailors just off of Apgujeong-ro in Gangnam is a far cry from the little shop on the outskirts of her old city. It's not a bad location - is near the KTX station, so gets a lot of traffic from businessmen, but not enough to afford what she really wants.

She sighs, knowing he's right, as he holds the door open for her. Winter air blusters around her dark hair, worn loose, catching a little in her glossy lips. Hooking the hairs away with her ruby red nails, she seems disheartened.

"You and Jimin manage it," she says, as if the financials are comparable.

"Yeah, but I'd never be able to afford that place on my own - and even so, I can only manage it 'cause he was willing to go 60-40 with me until I finish school," he adds, taking the files from her so she can put her hands in her coat pockets. It's bloody freezing.

Humming a little, Hayun nudges into his arm. "Why don't we become roomies? 60-20-20. A great deal all round."

Jeongguk sort of hates the way it feels like a small flame is flickering in the pit of his stomach when she says that. It's mild. Subdued. Doesn't have any fuel behind it. Not like it once would have done.

Still, he smiles.

"We do have a really comfy sofa," he says, playful in the distance he's creating. Knows she was insinuating something else, and knows that his bedroom is not a Hayun-friendly area anymore. The birds he'd once made because of her origami butterflies have a new meaning now; they're important because of someone else. It's your dreams embedded in their wings, not his former mislaid hopes of something flourishing between him and her.

"Great," she replies. "You can sleep there, and I'll take your bed."

"Fuck that," he snorts. "I'm having my bed."

"Well then we'll share," she purrs.

It's a flirt that Jeongguk would have eaten up six months ago; one that makes him feel a little guilty, now.

"Nah," he says, then thinks of you. "I'm no good at sharing."

Just like that, you're in his head again and his is vision blurry from all the fucking glitter that clouds in them whenever it happens. He thinks of the way you'd agreed to sleep in his bed with him after the evening with the ties, and how he'd been hoping you would stay a few nights ago, too. He didn't sleep a wink that night. Didn't revise. Didn't do anything fuckin' useful. Just sat, and stewed, unable to pick himself up off the floor.

He knows he was unkind and that an apology needs to be made, but he's never been good at swallowing his pride. Your disdain for Hayun comes from your own personal experiences, and it was naive of him to assume it was all because of him. Stupidly, he'd thought that you were jealous; that your irritation came from some form of protective nature. The same sort of one he has over you.

Just because he's not good at sharing doesn't mean you suffer from the same affliction. Was foolish of him to think you did.

Mistakes made with Hayun in the past are not to be repeated with you. He knows this. Knows that he can't hold you close in a bid to keep you where he prefers you. You're just like the birds that watch over him at night. You need to be set free.

So that's what he's trying to do.

He doesn't want you to become another bad decision. Knows your friendship is worth more than that. Thinks that maybe a little space to breathe could be good; that perhaps lines need to be redrawn.

"You don't need to tell me that," Hayun laughs as little as they head towards the subway. "Possessive is basically your middle name."

He frowns.

"Protective," he corrects. "Possessive sounds... I don't know. I don't like it."

Looking over at him, Hayun marvels at how much he's grown in the time since she's been away. Immature when she was leaving, Jeongguk couldn't stand to watch her leave. Thought he was being deserted by the person he held closest. For months leading up to her move, she felt like she was constantly being dragged in two directions - between the man she loved, and the boy who loved her. As hard as it was for Jeongguk, it wasn't exactly easy for her either.

"Well, we're talking about your bed, Buddy. Your possession . I think possessive is perfectly apt - unless you're protective over it, too?" She teases. "Is it not empty these days?"

Of all the conversations Jeongguk wants to have with Hayun, this is not one of them.

"Let's not talk about my sex life," he laughs a little, not wanting to be awkward in how he brushes off the conversation. She doesn't get the message.

"Why not?" she flirts. "We used to talk about it all the time."

"Yeah, 'cause you used to be my sex life, Hayun," he laughs again but it feels so sickly sweet that he might be sick. "You know I've never been one to kiss and tell."

"Boring," she sighs, nudging into him slightly as they walk along.

"Well you tell me about yours then," he jokes back, knowing that sex isn't a topic for the pair of them to share anymore.

"Oh, I'm basically a born-again-virgin," she sighs. "The break up was a long time coming. As soon as I stopped being attracted to him, well, yanno. Stopped sleeping with him. Haven't been laid in months. Pretty sure I wouldn't even know how to have sex anymore."

"I'm sure that's not true."

"Well," she considers. "We're both single for the first time in forever..."

"Don't."

"What? I'm just saying."

"Well, don't," he smiles, to mask the awkwardness of a feeling he doesn't understand. "It's dangerous. Us hooking was like... catastrophic."

"You ever think about it, still?"

"Hayun," he whines. "Please."

"I do."

"You shouldn't."

"I know you do, too."

He shakes his head.

"I remember your last drunk voice note, Gguk."

She says 'the last' because it used to be a common occurrence. Something to look forward to every month or so; admittance that Jeongguk still found the idea of sleeping with someone new impossible. Drunken mumbles of how he couldn't ever work out if girls were flirting with him or not, and how it didn't matter 'cause he was thinking about her anyways.

Hayun used to listen to them and feel a blush blossom all over her entire being. Used to see a notification from Jeongguk at arse-o'clock in the morning, and knew it would be confirmation that she was still adored - and doesn't everyone want to be felt about so fondly?

She'd never directly respond to the messages. Would just tell him to take some medicine for his hangover. Knew that acknowledging his tipsy tongue would likely cause issues. After all, she did still have a boyfriend who never knew of her past with Jeongguk.

Her boyfriend had thought Jeongguk was just a kid with a crush. Didn't realise how Hayun had taken his heart and crushed that instead.

"That was like, nine months ago," Jeongguk cringes. Only remembers the timing of it, 'cause it was Yoongi's birthday celebrations. Had watched on as Seoyeon adoringly made a speech about her other half, and had wished Hayun could have been there. Wondered if her eyes would have flicked to Jeongguk, just like he knows he would have glanced at hers.

The next time he got drunk, you were there to keep his brain busy.

And so he didn't call. Didn't text. Didn't do anything.

"So?" She laughs at his embarrassment. "You don't just wake up one day and stop feeling that way."

"Maybe I did," he says, knowing that he absolutely did not.

Though if he were to think about it properly, he'd realise that no, he didn't wake up one day feeling differently. Instead, slowly, gradually, day by day, his feelings have changed - but just like the seasons, he doesn't notice. Likely won't until another feeling is impossible to deny.

"And maybe you're a big fat liar."

"Well, did you ever think about me?" He asks a little flippantly, not expecting an answer. "When you were with your ex? Did you think about me?"

He anticipates a 'shut up' or a 'none of your business'; a coy smile that could mean nothing but everything all at once.

Hayun was previously a girl of subtleties, but she's been confronted with the idea that maybe Jeongguk prefers girls who are anything but - the Jiyeongs of the world. Bold. Confident. Or perhaps even worse: the attention-seeking glitter-coated girls. Never been her style - but she's never really been one to lose before. She isn't about to do it now.

"Sometimes," she smirks. Knows that such a response will probably drive Jeongguk insane.

It's not that she wants to cause him distress. Quite the opposite. She wants him to find comfort in her again. Wants what she let go of once before. Wants him to want her. Wants to belong somewhere; foolishly, she always thought she'd have a home in his heart.

And even though it's been derelict for nearly two years, it is still there. It sits abandoned, overgrown and the lock is rusted. The key doesn't work anymore. Maybe if she tries hard enough, though, she'll ease it open.

Her answer plays out in Jeongguk's head even after he changes the topic.

Sometimes.

Every now and again it comes to the forefront of his mind. How often?

She had a boyfriend. Was I better?

Moved cities for him. Was I hard to let go?

Why on earth would she still think about fucking Jeongguk? Am I the reason it ended?

The questions echoing in the space where sensible thoughts should be go unanswered.

He's walking Hayun to work. She's on the late shift. Wonders if he should offer to meet her after work.

For reasons he can't explain, he doesn't want to. It has nothing to do with the fact he's getting closer and closer to your neighbourhood. He absolutely isn't thinking about you, and worrying about seeing you, or the look on your face if you were to see him with Hayun.

Funny. He used to care about her seeing him with you. Worries about the opposite, now.

Even funnier?

How desperately you're trying to pretend like you're not jealous of Hayun's place in his heart, no matter how dilapidated the ruins of it may be.

"Oh, and another thing!" You enthuse, sitting once more outside CU, the gaggle of girlies - Minsu, Jinnae and Junghee - listening with great intent as you divulge more about the Hayun situation. "So then, she started saying how she wouldn't like another girl being so close with her boyfriend - but I set Jeongguk up with Jiyeong! I was hardly trying to break them up!"

"She's got a classic case of the green-eyed monster," Jinnae assures you, as she sips on a hot coffee from the convenience store. They're back to spy on Eunyeon's ex-husband's new squeeze, but are finding your unfathomably attractive bartender issues far more interesting.

"Mmm," Minsu agrees. "Show us what he looks like again?"

When you do, they all coo. "Oh, isn't he handsome?"

"I know he's pretty," you whine - it's like you're going round in circles. "But I'm still annoyed with him."

"He's a bit too much of a bad boy for me," Junghee sighs. She's not a tattoo lover, but has admitted that Jeongguk's got a 'lovely little face'. Of an older generation, it's no surprise that she isn't a fan of the body art, but you don't pay too much notice. Nodding across the street, she whispers. "Like him. Charming face but the tattoos all over his hand? A shame."

Looking over towards her gaze, you half think that maybe there'll be a new boy in the area to take your mind off Jeongguk.

"Isn't that..." Jinnae gasps.

Fuck.

"Yep," you wince, taking in the sight of Jeongguk strolling down the road with Hayun.

Unmistakable is Jeon Jeongguk, even without his signature smile. He's listening to whatever Hayun is saying - and does eventually crack a grin when she starts laughing, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes. Dressed down in baggy pants and an even baggier shirt, a thick puffer jacket hides the Jeongguk you know so well. You like it when he's cosy and comfortable, but it does sort of make you a little bit smug that he's not outwardly trying to make a big impression with his outfit choice.

But then again, this is Jeongguk you're talking about. He's still got that face. Still got that hair. Still got those hands peeking out from his sleeves, and still has those contemplative eyes that you've missed over the last few days. He leaves an impression even when he's trying to blend into the shadows.

The first night you met him is case and point; how even in the shrouded haze of a dark bar, he shone. He does it without even needing glitter.

"So that must be Hayun," Minsu assumes correctly. You nod.

She really is beautiful. They're attractive in different ways, Jeongguk is far more your type than she is, but it's not hard to see why someone like him would be interested in someone like her. Dark hair perfectly permed to wave around her features, she's put together well. Lips as red as her nails, you're beginning to learn that this is her trademark; her warning sign.

It also just elevates how different you are. A glitter girlie through and through, you never wear a red lips because you are aware that sometimes there is such thing as too much - and with the amount glitter you're always wearing, you don't wanna overkill it. Red lips had been reserved for Seokjin and Seokjin only - but you hadn't been wearing glitter with him, for the most part. Always knew how much he hated it.

She reminds you of a version of yourself that you don't like very much, and perhaps that's part of your issue. Maybe it is just projection.

But fuck, she was a dickhead. And she did hurt Jeongguk. And she has come back like she never left and she is taking her old place; the one that you had foolishly thought was yours. Sort of feels like you were just keeping her seat warm now.

"Dunno why on earth they're here," you hum. "Jeongguk lives in the middle of the city."

"Oh, he's got money," Junghee enthuses, but you just laugh.

"He doesn't live alone," you explain. "Splits the rent with a friend who does have money."

"Well, why don't you go for his friend instead?" Junghee asks. "If he's just as handsome and rich, what more could you want?"

A good shag.

"Jimin is great," you laugh. "But we're not compatible - and hey! That's not what this is about. Jeongguk and I aren't, like, romantic. We're just friends. I'm just upset because he's, like, replacing me."

Funny, how you and Hayun both have disdain for one another, when you both feel the exact same way.

You watch as they take a corner just a few roads before yours, and wonder where on earth they could be going. You'd message him and ask, if you weren't ignoring the memes he's sent you. He hasn't even sent them to your main chat feed, just forwarded them on instagram, where you've got him muted regardless.

Yes, you're being a little petty, but you're still pissed off.

"Oh, sweetheart," Jinnae sighs. "There's a reason they say boys and girls can never be just friends."

"That's not true," you pout. "We can be."

Giggling amongst themselves, they begin to relay stories of the boys they were friends with, and it's so nice seeing that the fundamentals of human relationships really haven't changed. Boys will always be stupid (and so handsome it's hard to think straight around them).

You're almost able to forget Jeongguk, and the fact he's in your area with Hayung, until fifteen minutes later, when your eyes notice a familiar figure waiting by the traffic lights across the road.

"Crap," you hiss, trying to soften your curse words around the older women you're with.

They all hum in confusion, Minsu being the only one to follow your gaze. "Oh! He's coming over."

"Shit," you curse now, unable to control it - which earns you a tap on your shoulder from Jinnae.

"Language young lady."

"I'm sorry! I just. Ahh! Can I borrow your hat?" you panic, not wanting him to clock you.

Dressed in sweats and a shirt that you know full well belongs to him, you're thankful you've gone for a plain black puffer coat. Far less obvious than one of your faux fur ones, but it also means you stick out like a sore thumb.

Ajummas will do as ajummas do - they're all in burgundy and blue; hues of maroon and splotches of neon scattered in patterns. Floral and a little bit garish, there's nothing subtle about any of their outfits.

You're casual, 'cause you're meeting Danbi for pole in half an hour. It's the first time since Sunday that you'll actually get to spend proper quality time with her and you're looking forward to it so much - your heart has been heavy. You'd only gone to CU for a snack, but the gaggle of gossipers had been there again, spying on Eunyeon's ex-husband again - and so naturally, you've been with them for an hour, now.

Jinnae practically throws her hat at you, and Minsu rummages in her bag for a fan. It's winter, and freezing out - you're only outside because of the industrial strength heaters that are practically boiling you alive outside the convenience store - but it will help block your face. You angle yourself away from the passageway up to the shop and stay silent as Jeongguk approaches. The ajummas also decide now is a great time to be silent, which only draws attention to the table.

You don't watch so have no idea if Jeongguk clocks you or not, but know that once you hear the bell of the door you're safe for a moment.

"Oh my god," you whisper.

"He's tall!" Jinnae says, surprised. "Far taller than I thought he would be."

You whine, knowing full well that Jeongguk is probably the best looking man within a ten mile radius.

"At least he didn't notice you," Minsu says, but that just makes you feel even worse. It's not like he should magically be aware of your presence, but you half thought that maybe some sort of cosmic entity tied you together; would defy the laws of human function and draw him towards you regardless.

You've barely had a chance to breathe by the time he's at the checkout, heading straight back out into the cold of winter - though your cold shoulder is far harsher, he thinks. Much more bitter.

Jeongguk pauses as he leaves the shop. Unwraps his gimbap with nimble fingers, the movements coming naturally to him. Never has to worry about pulling on the wrong tab and the seaweed unravelling in his hands. Is good with his fingers, in all capacities. Is ambivalent as he turns to face your direction.

Looks you dead in the eye. Takes a bite of his gimbap. Furrows his brows, 'cause it's delicious, and swallows it back with a satisfied hum. Lips pursed, he cleans his teeth with his tongue, and nods. Toys with his lip ring a little.

It does the thing .

You wanna whine.

Instead, your eyes are frozen on his, cheeks a little blushed. The rest of the ladies you're with are also staring at him. The silence is masked by the shop music and traffic on the road nearby, horns honking occasionally, until Jeongguk says, "hey, B."

The ajummas you're with don't even wait a second before the launch into their trade.

"Ah! What is it with men always thinking they can harass us?" Jinnae begins to scold, with Minsu joins in almost as quickly.

"You're too young for us! Look elsewhere."

"I swear, young men these days have no manners."

"We know everyone's aunties," Minsu threatens. "We'll tell her you were bothering us."

He holds his hands up - as much as he can, given the fact he's holding onto his gimbap and coke for dear life - and protests.

"I'm not! I'm not!" he promises, panic in his tone, eyes darting around the table at all of the other women - and then he settles on you.

You're not looking at him, now. Your eyes are on your hands, picking at the nail varnish on your fingers.

And he hates it.

In fact, it pisses him off. It's childish . You're both grown ups. Don't need to be giving each other the fucking silent treatment - as if he hasn't been doing that already.

"Was just looking for my friend," he says, his annoyance thinly veiled, but somehow still charming enough to get the ladies quiet for a moment. "Thought I saw her, but apparently she isn't here."

Minsu grimaces, and earns a tap on the arm from Jinnae.

Jeongguk hooks his thumb around his coke, holding it in the same hand as his gimbap, and reaches into his back pocket. Pulls out a small plastic pouch. It's a mystery bag - the kind by the counter with candy and a small toy inside. The Sanrio branding plastered all over it only further confirms this. He tosses it down in front of you. Says nothing.

It's a special edition. A new theme that had been brought in for the new year.

You pout as you look at it, noticing the packaging is covered in disco balls, reminiscent of a New Years Eve party.

All of the characters have been given little party outfits. Are glittery. Whichever character you pull will be byeol-ified from the get go. The Kuromi version is already sitting on Jeongguk's shelf, taking up a place on his chessboard.

He had picked it up on New Year's Day during his Powerade run to the convenience store for you and Jimin. Saw it and thought of you. Let you unwrap it, and watched on with starry eyes as you enthused over the fact you think he is a Kuromi boy. He doesn't really understand what that means, but he did like the way you had imitated his pout when you were trying to explain.

And so when he saw mystery bags by the counter again, he had picked one up. Knew you were outside - though is considerably confused about the ajumma situation - so figured he'd make peace with you.

When you look up, Jeongguk's already walking away.

You part your lips - go to stand, and call after him - but Jinnae puts her hand softly on your arm.

"Let him go," she says. "Just this once. Let him walk away."

"But-"

She shakes her head.

"It's obvious he cares. I won't debate that." Looking down to the sparkly packaging, knowing that it must have been your darling eyes that made him buy it, she smiles. "But walking away? Pretending that he doesn't care? Honey, he's acting like a kid."

"We've all raised boys," Minsu adds. "If you pander to them, they'll keep up with the bad behaviour."

"He's not a toddler," you laugh, strangely comforted by their wisdom.

"No, but he is a boy, still," Jinnae smiles back, and squeezes your arm. "Your ex-"

"The handsome one," Minsu interjects.

"-You always chased after him, yes?"

With a pout, you nod. Every single time.

"And he learned that there were no consequences to his actions," she sympathises. "If you care about your friendship with this one, then show him there are consequences. Show him your expectations of how you should be treated."

"But-"

You go to protest, but stop yourself. All you want is for things to be okay again - but Jinnae is right. Him walking away is just a sign he isn't fully ready to face up to it, yet.

"Honey," Junghee sighs. "You are better than any man who behaves like a baby. Sometimes they need a little push to grow up."

"Trust us," Jinnae smiles. "We're giving you the advice we wish we had been given! Decades change, but men don't. Still the same simple creatures."

And so, when you arrive home a little later and open up the mystery pouch to find a sparkly My Melody, you try out a little simplicity. Just send him a photo of her. No message. No plea for him to respond. It takes him three hours to read it. Just responds with a thumbs up emoji. You wanna scream.

So used to Seokjin and his insistence on always being mature, you've no idea how to handle Jeongguk's immaturity. He's petty .

Trouble is, he's just like you.

You sort of see why Seokjin hated it, now.

But Jeongguk is just a friend. You've no reason to be arguing with him like you would a partner. You don't speak to any of your other friends daily.

Just because the silence between you isn't normal for the pair of you as a collective, it is normal in the grand schemes of everyday life. Maybe it's okay.

A residual guilt lies in his stomach for the rest of the week, of which he can't seem to shake.

No amount of water he could drink would wash it away. It sits there, quite content, when he's in the gym, when he's sat at his desk staring into the void, when he's getting ready for a shift at Dionysus. It snuggles up; gets comfortable, even if it makes Jeongguk anything but.

He opens your text thread more times than he cares to admit over the week, but never texts. Nor do you.

Time typically taken up by Jeongguk is replaced with preparations for Taehyung's showcase at Ryu Gallery.

It's not a huge undertaking, but there is coordination and logistics that need to be taken into account. Tae's given you full control of liaising with the gallery professionals, which feels daunting. The process is new to you, so you're having to learn on the fly, but all has gone well so far. You've enough understanding of the gallery scenes to know what to do and say, even if you don't always know how to execute it.

For the most part, it's fine.

There is one day, though, where nothing seems to go right. The vans hired to move Taehyung's art are a no-show, and all the other affordable options are booked up. You spend all day trying to figure out a solution. There's only one person you know with enough trunk space to fit Taehyung's largest work.

He ignores your call. You figure he's studying.

So instead, you text him.

I really need your help. Please don't ignore me.

He calls back within thirty seconds. Arrives at the storage unit no more than ten minutes later. Barely utters a word to you. Opens the passenger door for you to get in, even when you say you'll walk to the Gallery.

"It's miles away. Don't be stupid."

"It's fine," you insist.

"Just get in the car."

"I-"

"Get in the car."

And so you do. The drive is silent. An apology rests on the tip of your tongue - but you aren't gonna give him it.

He helps you unload, silent, still. Makes sure everything is as it should be. Plays nicely with Tae and Nabi, even if he's a little cold with you. Rehashes the same dumb conversation with you as you prepare to leave.

"I can walk."

"No, you can't."

"I'm very much capable of walking home alone, Jeongguk," you say so sternly that he almost wants to snarl a response back.

Fine. Walk home alone. See what I fucking care.

Instead, and quite surprisingly, you find his hard eyes softening.

"Please," is all he says - and how can you refuse?

Jeongguk says nothing as you both get into his car. He looks ahead, stoic in the stern facade he's portraying. Hard to read, it feels almost like you're strangers again - but when you were strangers, you were both enthralled by the idea of what if.

He could have been anything, and so could have you.

He never anticipated that you'd end up being his favourite person in a crowded room. Always liked your glitter - always sought it out when he was behind the bar and looking for a friendly face - but never knew how much he'd like the girl wearing it. And once he learned? Well, he never imagined ever feeling this awful in your presence.

But see that's the thing.

Despite the heaviness of such a feeling, he doesn't want you to leave. Doesn't want you to walk away from him. Will take the uncomfortable tension in his car, if it means he gets the comfort of you being close by.

The city is far too small, he decides as he comes to a stop by your apartment. Got there far too quickly.

"Will you come?" You ask. "To Tae's show, I mean."

"Of course. Wouldn't miss it for the world."

You nod. "Okay. I just know you've been studying and like, if it's just gonna add stress-"

"Byeol, it's fine," he insists. "I'm gonna be there. Are you going out afterwards?"

"Probably," you say. It's been strange not including him on your night out plans, though you sure his are the exact same. It's a whole group affair; a pocha bar for food and cheap drinks after the show, then Dionysus.

Jeongguk's in charge of the guestlist for the club, and you know you're on it. Taehyung confirmed it - so you know that he knows you're going out. Just wanted to hear it for himself, apparently.

"I'll see you then," he smiles.

"See you then."

As he drives off, you inhale an almighty sigh. Fuck .

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

Danbi sits with you later that evening in your living room, her Spotify playlist humming through the television speaker. Lights dim, glasses of wine on the coffee table, you both needed a breather from stress-ball Taehyung.

"I swear, men don't know how to regulate their emotions properly," she huffs, with a roll of her eyes, even despite her fond smile. Reaching over for your drink, you can't help but agree.

"You're telling me. He's a Capricorn right?"

Danbi nods.

"Earth signs," you sigh and pretend like you aren't thinking about your favourite Virgo. "Notoriously bad at opening up. That'll be where your issues lie."

"He's so forthcoming, normally, though," she pouts. "Had no problem with his feelings and confessing them to me. I don't understand why he can't deal with his feelings of stress."

"Different parts of the brain, maybe?" You shrug, not knowing if it is or not, but throwing any excuse into the void. "Like, think about it - you have no problem cooing over dogs all day long, but the second it comes to be openly affectionate with Tae-"

"I'm just not a PDA girlie!" she whines. "Do you think it bothers him?"

You shrug. "He normally seems okay with it - but that's not the point here. The point is that boys don't make sense. Everyone says they're so simple and yet I've never met anyone more confusing than Jeongguk."

Danbi smiles. Wondered how long it would take to get you rambling on about him.

"And like, I know ," you sigh. "He's a Virgo . I should have seen this coming. Wanna be all up in your business one moment and then off-grid the next. Classic Virgo. I just don't understand how he can be so rational and reasonable when it comes to me and my feelings, yet when it comes to his? Oh he just freezes up. I don't understand it. Do not understand. Do you understand?"

Maybe it's the fact you've both had a little too much wine, but Danbi can't understand either.

"What I don't understand why the fall out of such a small argument had to be so big," she hums. "Like you both said something shitty, but that's it. There's no reason why you still need to be in a mard with one another."

"Hey! He said something shitty."

"And you decided to start chewing out the girl he, like, lived and died for. Was always gonna get a bad response, darl. You know this."

Regretfully, she's right. Being a dick about Hayun was only ever gonna bite you in the ass when it came to Jeongguk.

"I just don't get how she can repeatedly be awful to him, and he just forgives her at the drop of a hat. I say one, maybe two unfavourable things, and it's like I've committed war crimes. Literally he's not spoken to me since, other than that god-awful CU run-in."

"You need to tell me more about those ajummas, by the way," Danbi laughs. "But like, trauma isn't it? Why do you say 'how high?' when Jin asks you to jump?"

You're silent.

"You want to keep him happy, 'cause him being upset with you made you feel horrible . You don't wanna feel that kind of pain again, so you do everything within your power to avoid it," she analyses. "I wouldn't be surprised if Jeongguk is just the same when it comes to her - so cut him a little slack, there. Yes, he was awful in what he said to you, and yes, you deserve an apology - but you weren't being fair to him either, my love."

You pout. "She's the worst though. Why can't he see that?"

"Maybe she's great in bed," Danbi offers, which only makes you frown more. "Or maybe she's just a manipulative bitch who knows how to play the poor boy like a fiddle."

That sounds more like it, but it makes you feel so bad.

"Think about it," she continued, before referencing the subway sighting from hell. "She knew Tae was coming to meet me for dinner a week or so back. He'd mentioned it on their group chat. Her shift at the tailors had finished, like, half an hour before then - and yet she invited Nabi to meet her right as she knew Tae was coming to meet me. Weasled her way into our plans and for what? A chance to scope me out?"

You consider her points, and are still so relieved knowing the truth of the subway sighting. Danbi had come home and ranted to you about it for a solid thirty minutes. Taehyung was seemingly just as blind to her intrusion and Jeongguk always is.

It's sort of a relief to know she's like this with Danbi, too. Hayun doesn't seem to like people taking up spaces that she left. Expected her seats to still be free upon her return.

It's just annoying that Jeongguk's lap is apparently her favourite.

While Taehyung's always liked Hayun, he's never been interested in her. Not romantically. Had a bit of a thing for Nabi when they first met in college, but nothing ever came of it. He didn't feel compelled to chase her. Not like he did with Danbi. He's glad for this, because he really does cherish his friendship with Nabi.

He also never really had to see the fall out of Jeongguk and Hayun, 'cause Jeongguk never wanted to put Taehyung in an awkward position. Kept his pain hidden away, only for Jimin to see.

Despite this, Taehyung is well aware that whatever went down wasn't pretty. Jimin doesn't cut people out for no good reason - but he also hasn't insisted that anyone else should, nor shared any of Jeongguk's dirty laundry.

By protecting his friend, he sort of feels like he's damaging him, too.

You do, at least, have one thing that Hayun can't compete with: your value to Taehyung when it comes to galleries.

Makes you smile just thinking about it the next evening, standing beside the artist himself as even more punters gush over his work.

The Ryu Gallery is a steep step up from the painting cafe.

It's a black tie event; cocktail dresses and silk shirts. The champagne in the flutes is real, this time. Taehyung's collection is being showcased alongside small artists from neighbouring cities. A few of them are fairly well-known within the circuit, and for him to rub shoulders with those he admires? Oh, it's incredible . The smile on his face, whenever he thinks no-one is watching him, is adorable.

You're pleased for him - and he's pleased to have you around whenever someone in a suit worth more than his monthly rent starts asking him questions. Still his official (unofficial) agent, you're doing all of the business talk for him. Building contacts. Creating a network for him.

From across the room, empty champagne flute in hand, arms folded across the front of his white shirt, Jeongguk doesn't mean to stare at you for quite so long.

Hair up, you've dyed it. The blonde is mostly gone, but there's a gradual fade now - dark to light - and he wonders how the fuck you managed it. Knows it must have been a salon job, but wonders how on earth you had time between the last-minute artwork transportation and the opening of the show.

You didn't. Danbi did it after half a bottle of wine and it's a miracle that it looks the way it does.

The dress you're wearing only adds to it.

It barely covers your ass, but is so puffy and pretty, it doesn't look indecent. He thinks - but is not entirely sure - that it's the Selkie dress you've been whining about since October.

He doesn't know what Selkie is. Just heard you say the word four million times.

You had wanted to order it, but apparently your size kept going out of stock as spooky season approached. "It's just a black dress!" You had pouted - but now that he can see it for himself, he knows that it was an understatement.

He's never seen you look more like yourself. A sheen of shimmer covers your skin, and your eyes are just as sparkly as they always are. Even your dress has a little sparkle.

It shouldn't. It's plain black. You and Danbi had just gotten a little creative with a can of fine-mist glitter hair spray the night before. Wine, apparently, leads to good decisions.

Sometimes .

You sort of look like a fairy, he thinks to himself with a smile - but then remembers you scornfully berating him for still 'believing' in them, when you had been arguing about Hayun.

In discussion with some men in suits, a hand resting on Taehyung's arm as you enthuse about his artwork, Jeongguk thinks you were made for a role like this. Eyes so kind, smile so genuine, he never doubts that you mean every compliment given to Taehyung.

Your other hand is holding onto a champagne flute, and Jeongguk counts your rings when he notices there are more than your usual three. One on your pinky and your thumb, two on your middle finger, and one that rests midway up on your index finger. None on your fourth finger. Never on your fourth finger. Nails black, they match your dress.

And that's when he realises what's missing.

There's no bird around your neck.

His gaze drops, throat bobbing as swallows down the 'fuck you' he wants to shout. He wouldn't mean it.

Just knows how important the necklace is to you. How important it is to him. How important it is that you've stripped yourself of it.

It's half an hour before Jeongguk dares to stand by you.

Looking at one of Taehyung's pieces, there's no one else beside you.

Until, like a magnet finally succumbing to its pull, he's back where he belongs.

"You're not wearing your necklace," he says quietly.

"Didn't match my dress," you simply say, but you both know it's a lie. The dress is just as whimsical as your eyes are sparkly. It would have looked perfect.

"Should have worn a different dress, then," Jeongguk says a little childishly.

"And you shouldn't have shown up with such a shitty attitude," you say, voice sweet despite the scathing nature of your words.

"Yeah, well maybe-"

"We're not doing this here," you hiss quietly. "Grow up."

Part of him wants to fight back, but it's mainly just because it's an excuse to talk to you for a little while longer. He doesn't actually wanna fight. He wants to say he's sorry and that his mind is everywhere all at once at the moment, and that he's only felt any semblance of clarity over the last few weeks when you've been in his sheets.

It's not for any deeper meaning other than the simple fact you help him switch off. Are good for him. Exactly the kind of influence he needs for his mile-a-minute brain.

So instead he nods. Tells you to have a good night. You wish him the same back. He goes to turn away but pauses, and says, "you shouldn't have worn a different dress. It looks great on you - gorgeous, actually - but the bird wouldn't have ruined it."

Oh, but it already has.

You don't thank him for his compliment. Try not to think about how gorgeous he looks, hair waving around his movie-star face, sparkly eyes pretty, dainty chains around his neck almost matching the shine in his irises. In all black except for his white shirt, he's your favourite artwork in the whole entire gallery.

Instead, you just walk away from him and back into the crowd, leaving him to find your friends once more.

He doesn't go to them immediately. Instead, he takes a moment to himself. Looks at some more of the art that isn't Taehyung's, and finds he doesn't like it half as much.

In a dress just as red as her lipstick, Hayun finds herself beside Jeongguk looking at the same painting. It's dark. Abstract. Not his cup of tea, yet he was drawn to it regardless.

"Here, buddy," Hayun smiles as she passes a champagne flute over to him. There's no hesitation to the way he accepts her offering, a subdued smile on his lips. Nodding towards the painting, she tries her best to pretend as if she didn't just watch the tense conversation unfold between you two. "Cool isn't it?"

"Mhmm," he nods, taking a sip of champagne. The bubbles catch in his throat, and it feels like he's swallowing marbles instead. Sort of wishes he was. Any excuse to leave the awkwardness of this evening would be welcome by him. "Not my favourite."

"Really?" She asks.

"Yeah. Think I prefer things a little more complex," he considers. "Not enough for me to focus on, yanno? My eyes get all jittery."

He doesn't even realise he's glancing over towards you, again. Needs a little glitter to sort his eyes out.

"You're such an oddball," Hayun smiles."Tae reckons this artist is the one to watch at the moment."

Jeongguk turns his nose up. "Tae's stuff is way better."

"Well yeah, but you're biased," she says warmly.

"You don't think so?" Jeongguk chirps a little surprised that she'd prefer something so boring.

"Don't get me wrong, I love Tae's work - this is just far more my style. When I finally have an apartment, I'll probably get something like this."

"Maybe Tae can put in a word for you," Jeongguk suggests. "See if he can get you something from the artist."

He doubts it very much - has seen the price tag - but it's a thought that seems to inspire her.

"You're a genius!" She smiles. "What would I do without you?"

Oh, it's rotten how everything seems to remind him of you; of the way it feels like he'll die without you. Had always been a joke before - but it really does seem like death would be preferable to an endless reality of this .

He feigns a smile. Shrugs. Changes the topic. "You going out after the show?"

Hayun pays no mind to the fact he ignored the question. Nods. "Yeah, we all are, aren't we?"

"Think so," he confirms. Wonders if you're still gonna be there or not.

Almost as if she can read his mind, Hayun asks, "Is she coming?"

" She has a name."

"And yet you knew exactly who I meant," she smiles, but it's entirely fake.

He doesn't like her tone.

"She's really important to me," he says, not looking for a fight, but fancying one regardless. "Please can you at least try to be nice?"

"I'm always nice."

Her tone is pedantic. She's being a little sassy for no good reason. Jeongguk doesn't have the patience at the moment to humour it. Has been too stressed - too upset - this past week. His social batteries are what they usually are.

And so he snaps a little.

"Can you not be like this?"

"Like what?" she recoils slightly.

" Mean ," he says. "We both know you weren't nice on New Years. You really upset her."

Hayun enjoys this fact, but hides her smile well. In fact, she pouts. Furrows her brows.

"She wasn't exactly kind to me , either."

Jeongguk knows this is probably true. Also knows that you likely think you were entirely justified.

"I don't care," he says. "She's the whole reason Taehyung's been able to network like this. Tonight's a celebration for Tae, yes, but we wouldn't be celebrating if it wasn't for her. I'm not asking you to be besties - just be nice. Please."

Hayun's silent for a moment.

"I'm not trying to be an asshole," she says quietly - and then she does offer some honesty. A rarity. "I've come back and someone else is sitting pretty where I used to. I don't know where I fit in anymore. This shit is hard, buddy."

"You'll make it harder for yourself by making enemies," he says softly, accepting her words to be genuine. He knows you've only seen the worst of her, but underneath it all, she's human, too.

"She looks at me like she wants to skin me alive!" Hayun whispers, with more animation than is really needed.

"Well, she kinda does," Jeongguk laughs, but doesn't elaborate. Will let Hayun stew on that one. "Look, just be kind, okay? She'll be nice if you're nice."

"Fine," Hayun shrugs. "But you better give her a talking to, as well. She called me a little weirdo last time I spoke to her. Who even says shit like that?"

Jeongguk smirks. Sounds exactly like the kind of thing you'd say.

"She's not really talking to me at the moment, so," he shrugs. "I probably won't."

Oh, now this does please Hayun. Pleases her so much. Suddenly, she does feel like playing ball. Will be nice as pie. Will give you all the smiles in the world. Will be kind. Might even kill you with it.

The smile of hers prevails throughout the night. You notice it occasionally, but do your hardest to ignore it. Barely even look in her direction.

Maybe it's wrong for you to take your frustrations out on her. Maybe she isn't all that bad - after all, Jeongguk is one of the best people you know. Surely someone he holds so close can't be that awful. Surely .

As the evening dwindles down, your group of friends gather up together to head to a bar downtown, celebrating Taehyung's success - except, he's not with them.

Nor are you.

You both stay behind just to do final checks with the exhibition coordinators, and then head to meet the group downtown.

They're in a pocha bar just a couple blocks down from Dionysus. There's only a few of you within the group that really have any business in a pocha bar. Afterall, what use is a happily committed person in a hunting bar?

Designed quite literally for the single to mingle, each table has a digital tablet affixed to it. It's where you order your drinks and food - of which, when you arrive, you can see your group has already got sorted - but also acts as a messaging device between tables.

If you see someone that tickles your fancy, you challenge them to a game, or just a chat. Something to get a little bit of communication bubbling; see if it could boil over.

Grinning to yourself, you think that Jeongguk's ragtag group of friends must be a nightmare for any other groups of single men in a pocha bar. You can't imagine groups of straight women wanting to message a table other than theirs.

That's the downside that comes with a pocha; you're divided on the basis of gender, because apparently sexuality is limited to attraction of the opposite sex.

Always makes you roll your eyes - but the food is cheap and the drinks are even cheaper, especially when it's a table from across the room buying them for you.

Though your tables are next to one another, the boys are at one end, and the girls are down the other. It's the only way you could be sat together.

Jeongguk sits opposite Yoongi, on the chairs closest to the girls table. Jimin, Namjoon and Hoseok are further away, closer to the digital tablet.

Squeezes Danbi's shoulders as he walks past, Taehyung nabs the seat at the far end of the table. He'd much rather be next to her, but equally doesn't mind being with the boys.

Separated by a gap in the tables, Seoyeon is 'beside' Yoongi. Right where she should be.

Opposite her, beside Jeongguk is an empty seat. Nabi is in the next seat over, facing Danbi. A table of six with only three girls sitting around it, the two chairs closest to the tablet are also free. An abundance to choose from, but there's only one you want.

Foolishly, as Jeongguk's eyes meet yours, you forget there's a thorn in your side. Are reminded as she enters your peripherals, thorn wedging deeper into your flesh, and waltzes straight through the gap in the tables.

His eyes don't leave yours. Not when she approaches. Not when greets him. Not when she sits down beside him.

All you can do is watch as she takes your place.

Though you suppose it wasn't really yours in the first place.

You push the unpleasantness of the feeling in your stomach to the side. Fuck Hayun. You don't wanna be such a misery guts, but she just ruins everything. Ruined Jeongguk and his perception of love, ruined New Years (almost) and now she's ruining your night.

She doesn't have to, you remind yourself. Just ignore her existence.

And so as Danbi passes you a shot, you do just that.

The music in the pocha is unbelievably loud; probably to encourage closeness between people, but it just means you spend your evening giggling with Danbi instead of even trying to get the boys attention - and that suits you just fine.

You don't pay notice to Jeongguk, nor Hayun, nor anything that could make you feel shitty in any regard. It's been a successful night. Taehyung did so well. You know that you'll be waking up to enquiries in your email inbox regarding his work.

Taehyung is the first to notice a message pop up in the corner of the tablet over on your table. Of he course he was. Had been glancing over to Danbi endlessly.

Red and imposing, the notification mark sits right where the chat threads should be. You're closest to it, so as Taehyung's laughing about the fact some idiotic group of guys had the gall to message your table when it's obvious you're with them, you click through.

"Table 12," you say with a little extra animation and wiggle of your eyebrows. Jimin's looking around, counting from the door to work out who it is - and when he spots a group of four girls giggling away, he knows it's them . And then you're laughing, too. "Oh shit. Wrong table. They meant to message you guys."

"What are they after?" Jimin enthuses. "Are they talking about the handsome stud in the middle of the table?"

You snort a little, holding back a laugh. "Not quite."

Your eyes flick over to Jeongguk, then back to the screen. You poise yourself a little flirtily - get in the right headspace to read such a message.

"Tattoo guy" - you glance up towards him again, and think it's sweet that he looks a little bashful. - "Fancy giving us a tour of your tattoos? Show us yours and we'll show you ours."

Another message pops through as you're reading aloud, so you continue.

"P.S. you'll have to take our clothes off first to see ours."

"Holy shit," Danbi laughs, and you find yourself laughing too - more so at the look on the faces of all of the boys. Even Yoongi looks a little bewildered - but so does Seoyeon.

Confident girlies are always the best girlies - you bet they're a lot of fun to be friends with.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" you tease Jeongguk. Secretly, you like the idea of Hayun having to watch other girls swoon over him; get her sweating out that 'irreplaceable' attitude she likes to parade herself around with. "Do it!"

He swallows as he looks at you. Is ignoring the taunts and excitement from the boys around him, even as they ping bottle caps at him. His chest hides the thud, thud, thud of his heart well; the challenge of flirting with girls who aren't you making him feel all strange.

But you're encouraging it.

Maybe he should.

"On one condition," you add with a giggle. God, he's missed you. "You have to make up fake stories for all of your tattoos."

Jimin laughs. Agrees. "Gotta tell them the most unhinged shit, and see if they still wanna shag you."

The tables enthuse over Jeongguk's potential faux tattoo history, and decide he got his snake to overcome a fear - but it failed and now he screams every time he looks at it.

"You have to do the scream, too" Seoyeon giggles, then does the most adorable little squeak you've ever heard. Yoongi looks at her with liquor-laced lips that are abundant with love. "Like that! Gotta scream like that."

Jeongguk imitates her, and has everyone cracking up. He repeats it - looks down at his tattoo, and screams out a tiny little squeak. Earns a confused look from the table next to him. Does it again. Some of the wait staff also look at him now. You and Danbi are practically falling onto one another's laps from how ridiculous but how committed to the bit he is.

"Okay, okay," Taehyung laughs. "What about the flowers?"

"Hmmm.. He's allergic?" Jimin says right off the bat. "Had the ink infused with pollen, because he thought it would cure him. Arm nearly fell off instead."

"Perfect," Taehyung beams, chortling with laughter.

"I'm not gonna be able to remember any of these," Jeongguk smiles - but truthfully he's just nervous. Doesn't wanna go and strike up a conversation with strangers. Wants to stay here and keep the people he cares about laughing.

His gaze falls on yours, and he's pleased to see that your smile doesn't fade.

It's so nice to see him sparkle again.

He purses his lips, fond dimples etching into his cheeks.

And maybe it's the alcohol, but you think he's got eyes that are worthy of forgiveness, even if a 'sorry' hasn't left his pretty lips.

They part a little, his tongue nervously flicking at his lip ring. It does - as it so often does - the thing . It's as if he wants to say something, but the words never quite make it out.

It's only been a moment or so, but you notice Seoyeon nudging Yoongi from across the table, being far less than subtle as she draws his attention to the pair of you.

Immediately dropping Jeongguk's gaze, you feel your cheeks flame a little, just as rosy, as the flutter in your heart is delicate.

He hasn't said sorry, you remind yourself. He's not forgiven.

And yet being in his company after a few drinks just makes all the residual hurt of the past week or so fade into nothingness. Happiness comes so easily around him.

Or at least it does, until Hayun starts to toy with Jeongguk's arm, pointing at tattoos that you don't know the meaning of, and saying shit like 'you can't lie about that one,' or 'you held my hand so hard I thought you'd break it when you got that one.'

You lean over to Danbi, and squeeze her arm.

"Just gotta make a quick call," you say, holding up your phone. "Won't be long."

She nods and hurries out a "yeah, yeah. Of course. That's fine, go for it. Want me to order any more drinks?"

You scan the table, which is littered in bottles and small spillages, and decide that above everything else, you're hungry.

"Sotteok sotteok?" You suggest, having seen the table next to you get the delicacy - rice cakes and sausages on a skewer, coated in sauce - delivered to them ten minutes ago.

"YES!" she exclaims, immediately reaching over to the tablet to order some, then grins back over at you. "Go, make your call. I'll keep your food safe from the boys."

"Angel," you grin right back, excusing yourself. There's no commotion as you do so - everyone is engaged in their own conversations, music blaring, chaos in every corner.

Danbi explains where you've gone to anyone who asks, and nobody questions it.

Nobody except for Jeongguk.

"Call who?" He queries, brows furrowed. Thinks it can't be anything work-related - too late for that - but also knows how many fuckers in suits tonight seemed to know you in relation to Seokjin. Wonders if maybe it's him.

When Danbi just shrugs, Jeongguk nods.

He studies the space left by you, empty and vacant, and wonders if you'd rather be with him , right now. Wonders how often you've thought about him tonight. Wonders if you think about him when it's just you and Jeongguk together.

Wonders if you ever think these things about Hayun.

He tries not to waste his time worrying, eyes focused on the windows towards the front of the bar, but he can't seem to help himself - and when he finally does catch a glimpse of you?

He smiles . Laughs, even. Tries to keep his giggle to himself, and is thankful no one notices.

Directly across the street is an arcade, lined in neon lights and cheap cash grabs that will give you no return. You pry the final few coins out of your purse and sink them into an endless pit of despair, just in the hopes you'll get a teeny tiny little My Melody plushie.

The mechanical whir of the machine is obscured by the music blasting out, some song by a new group that you don't know by name. Prime location, in the middle of the nightlife district, you're sure you've sunk more money into this arcade than you probably have into any of the bars. As soon as you get a few shots in you, you convince yourself you can win everything .

You've never won anything.

Still, it's not just the shots that have you here today (though you and Danbi have worked through two bottles of soju each, and the night has barely started).

It's your need to think about something else, other than the sorry state of affairs between you and Jeongguk, that has you gambling.

Things shouldn't have to be this complicated, you think as you rummage around for another coin in your purse. The bastard machine just eats it and barely even tries to hook onto the plushie that you've expertly lined up.

It's an endless slog of effort, money, time put in. Nothing left to show for it.

Funny, how often that seems to happen.

You return to the table empty handed. No one else realises where you went. No one except Jeongguk - but he isn't paying attention to your return.

Mainly because a message came through while you were away. Table 23. "Black dress - hate to see you go but love to watch you walk away."

Danbi had read it with a giggle in your absence, and as soon as you return, she finds great pleasure in showing you.

"Table 23?" You laugh, flattered. "Don't wanna turn around. Are they cute?"

Danbi glances behind her shoulder, but averts her eyes almost immediately. "Oh crap. They're looking," she whispers as she leans in a little closer to you.

Nabi uses her vantage point on the opposite side of the table to scope them out. Hayun's too busy listening into the boys conversation and inserting herself where she isn't wanted to pay attention to you.

"Okay," Nabi enthuses. "There's three of them. Two of them keep looking over, but one of them refuses to, even when they nudge him, so I think it's him."

"And?" you giggle, still wanting to know if he's cute.

"He..." she pauses. Bites her lip to stop herself from laughing.

"He...?!" You laugh, not caring to stop yourself, with a little shake of your head. There are stars in your eyes, lights from the bar reflecting in them like the Northern Lights. You're a sight to behold when you're like this; just as radiant as your glitter is sparkly.

"Hey."

The voice behind you as someone comes to stand by your table is new . Deep. A little purry.

"Hi," you smile, looking up to the man now standing in the space between your table and the next group over. Tall, you think first. Handsome, second.

"Can I sit for a second?" He asks, not even bothering to introduce himself first. Nabi scoots over instantly, a smile plastered all over her face. Danbi is pinching you beneath the table.

"Sure," you nod, a little coy, not wanting to give away your total satisfaction.

He's dreamy as he takes a seat, shirt white, hair slicked back in that sexy kinda James Dean way that always makes you a little hot under the collar. He smiles, and his eyes are just as kind as his grin is charming.

"A bar like this is no place for a dress like that," he says resting his arms on the table. Leans forward a little. Is engaged in conversation with you, and you alone.

"No?" you flirt a little. "Where should it be instead?"

The insinuation of your question is clear, and you know that his mind will have jumped to the only logical answer: his bedroom floor.

But with a smile like his, you should have known he'd be a gentleman.

"Somewhere classier," he supposes.

"Are you saying I should leave?" You raise a brow.

He shakes his head. Doesn't drop his eyes from yours. "No. At least, not without giving me your number."

"I don't even know your name," you say with a roll of your eyes.

He holds out his hand for you to shake. You consider it - but instead, you hold out your own hand for him to kiss. With a smirk, tongue running along his teeth, he concedes. Holds your fingers and rests his pretty eyes closed as his lips press against your knuckles.

"Park Seojoon."

You nod. Accept his name into your brain. Feel Jeongguk's eyes burning into your hand, which is still being held by Seojoon.

A few drinks in, and a little vindictive, you're glad . It's stupid because you will scream if anyone else decides you're jealous of Hayun - but you sort of want Jeongguk to be jealous that there's someone new sitting in the seat opposite you.

"And yours?" Seojoon asks. "It's only fair."

"Give me your phone," you say, not wanting to give him an easy win.

You also wanna check he isn't a sleazebag with a girlfriend.

You've met plenty of those. Dated one not so long ago - and he wasn't too dissimilar from Seojoon. Tall, handsome, chivalrously charming. Yeah. You know men like him.

And yet he doesn't hesitate. Unlocks his phone. Lets you have at it. You do as you wish, with no complaint from him - which is open up instagram. His search history is pretty clear: the bar you're currently at, a few of his friends, some idol singer who you assume he has a crush on. Nothing that screams red flag.

Typing in your username, you give yourself a follow, and hand it back.

"There. Don't need my number, now."

A message pings through on the table tablet.

Table 23: He knows how to cook

Table 23: Has his own apartment

Table 23: Is a CEO

Table 23: Massive cock

Table 23: His personality, I mean

Table 23: Dunno about his dick

Table 23: Saves cats from trees on the weekend

"Please ignore my friends," he laughs. "I think they're going for the hard sell. So embarrassing."

"So none of it's true?" You grin right back, enjoying the ridiculous nature of it all.

He shrugs. Smirks. "Some things are. Some things aren't. I'll let you find out which is which."

Even more messages ping through.

Table 23: He showers twice a day

Table 23: Speaks 14 languages

Table 23: Is still a virgin

Rolling his eyes, he shakes his head, but his smile prevails. He looks like a movie star; suave and sweet all at the same time.

"I gotta go sort my friends out," he laughs. "But I'll message you, okay?"

With a giggle and small nod, you say, "I'll be waiting."

"Okay," he grins, all bashful and endearing, not really wanting to go.

"Okay," you tease a little.

He's barely even left his seat before Nabi and Danbi are squealing.

Jeongguk's eyes are down, and he's twiddling with his thumbs. Face of thunder, you think he's being a baby. A big, pouty baby. Good .

"Right," Jimin declares loud enough for you all to hear. "Dionysus? I wanna dance."

You hold hands with Danbi and Hoseok for the entire walk. It's only a few streets over, but being drunk always makes the walk so much longer - plus you really shouldn't have had so much to drink on such an empty stomach, especially after running around prepping the show all morning.

"CU," you hiccup as you walk past the convenience store. Open 24 hours, you dread to think about the sorry state of people of whom the cashiers have to deal with. Knowing that you're a mess at the moment? Yeah. You feel bad. Will probably apologise to the poor uni student working behind the counter. "Snacks."

The others are walking ahead a little and you don't bother to stop them. Will just meet them in the club. Your names are on the guestlist, courtesy of Jeongguk, so it's not like you'll have to queue to get in.

Unless he takes your name off the guestlist.

Of which he half considers when they get to the bar and he realises you're not there.

"You seen B?" He asks Jimin, but is met with a shake of his head.

"No clue."

Half an hour later, under the bright strobes of the club, Jimin finds you asking him the exact same thing.

"Where's Jeongguk?"

And again, all he can say is "no clue".

You spend the night missing each other; emotionally, physically.

There are only so many places you can be in Dionysus. In fact, from the bar, Yeonjun can often see you both and wonders why you're so far apart from one another - but also notices the bright red ball and chain that seems to be attached to Jeongguk. The closer you get, like the magnets you are, the further she drags him away.

It's painful to watch, Yeonjun thinks. Can't seem to figure out a good reason why Jeongguk is wasting time with anyone that isn't you.

But waste it he does.

His one night to let his hair down, to feel fucking normal , and instead he feels like his head is gonna cave in. The shots aren't helping, and the way his head snaps to every glimmer of light just in case it's you is borderline embarrassing.

It's not until just gone 1 AM, when he returns from that little courtyard of his, Hayun closely behind, that he finally catches a glimpse of Hoseok and Danbi. You're nowhere to be seen and when he questions it, Danbi doesn't wanna tell him jack shit.

"Just wanna know if she's okay," Jeongguk explains as they stand by the bar, but again, Danbi doesn't give a shit.

"I know she's okay," she simply shrugs. "There's your confirmation."

"Dan-"

"You haven't even fucking said sorry yet!" she erupts at him, a little fiery when she's been drinking and ever so protective of her friends. None of the group are with them, so she doesn't hide her frustrations. "You fucked her, then basically told that her a nasty piece of work is worth more to you than she is. What was it you said? That Hayun is trying to fix your friendship?"

Jeongguks tongue runs along the inside of his cheek, a little pissed that the entire conversation has been relayed to Danbi. Jimin obviously knows most of what happened, but he was in the apartment. It is unfair though, for him to think you wouldn't need to vent about what had been said. He knows he did.

When he doesn't reply, Danbi rolls her eyes.

"If fixing your friendship with Hayun comes with the price of ruining the friendship you have with a girl, who's quite literally only ever wanted what was best for you, is it really worth it? Huh?" Danbi antagonises.

He goes to speak, but Danbi shakes her head.

"I know you're Tae's friend, and I'll never get in the way of anything between you guys - but if you think for a second I'm not gonna prioritise my best friend just to make things a little more comfortable for you, you're wrong. You know just as well as I do how much her piece of shit ex fucked with her. So either you be fucking nice to her, or you leave her alone. "

The final sentence stings Jeongguk like a wasp.

It's not too dissimilar from what he's said to Hayun.

Danbi sighs. Looks down. Shrugs her shoulders as her hands tap against the tops of her thighs. Walks a little closer, because she knows fighting with Jeongguk is the last thing you'd want her to do.

"She's at home. Texted me about five minutes to let me know she got there okay... just," she sighs again. Knows that you'll probably be annoyed with her for telling Jeongguk about it in the morning. "Just tell her that you're fucking sorry, okay? Fix it."

Jeongguk is in a taxi en route to yours within two minutes.

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

You've barely changed out of your dress, just in your matching black set, when your phone begins to ring. The caller ID is one that you've been wanting to see all week, but you're not sure you want to answer, now.

Just can't seem to help yourself, though.

Reaching over for the shirt of his on the back of your chair, you pull it over your body.

"Hello?"

"B..." Jeongguk breathes out. "I... Fuck. I'm at your door. Please can I come in."

"A bit presumptuous for you to show up first," you hum, arm folding across your chest, hand resting on the crease of your elbow.

"I know," he says, about to launch some ramble about how he's sorry and how he thinks he might die if things stay as they are - but then the latch of your door goes, and there you are. Phone to your ear, in little more than a shirt that belongs to him, with an unreadable expression on your face, you shrug.

"Could have knocked."

"Didn't wanna wake anyone," he says, as if he wouldn't have knocked had the call gone to voicemail.

"Danbi's out," you shrug, and then push the door a little further open. Silently invite him inside. He's always welcome, even when you're mad at him. Maybe especially when you're mad at him. Could be anywhere. Could be away from you. And yet he's right where you want him to be.

He's only in your apartment for a moment or so before he clocks the white roses on the kitchen counter. Another 'sorry I couldn't make it' gift from Seokjin. The card is face up, so it doesn't take much for Jeongguk to know exactly who they're from. He says nothing of them.

"Freezing in here," you say, then knock your head to the side and encourage him into your room. "C'mon. I've got the heater on in there."

He does as you say, 'cause he considers himself lucky to be in your home. Lucky that you didn't open the door just slam it in his face. Lucky, just for the simple fact he knows you.

"What brings you here?" you ask, taking a seat on your bed.

Jeongguk stands. Looks around your room. Likes that you've got your little pink neon light on. The glow hazes around your body, ethereal in the way it makes your glitter sparkle.

He doesn't answer immediately.

You're still tipsy, and so is he. Hair dishevelled, jacket tossed on your bedroom floor, Jeongguk looks good. Not that he doesn't always, it's just... nice seeing him dressy. Smart pants, a button up shirt. The sleeves are rolled, forearms exposed just like they were in the bar earlier. Girls drool at the mouth from the sight of him alone.

And he's in your room.

You have something people want.

Him .

You'd quite like to keep it.

Yours .

He nibbles down on his bottom lip, unsure of how to phrase anything that wouldn't sound awkward. His lip ring glistens in the neon light, and it's like you're wearing novelty glasses that scatter hearts around bright light when you look at him.

So you stand.

Say nothing.

Brazen in your drunken haze, you shrug.

Reach for the hem of his shirt, and pull it up your body, over your head.

When your eyes meet Jeongguk's again, his lips are parted. He's confused. Mentally, emotionally, physically. Doesn't really understand.

You're naked save for the matching set you're wearing. It's one he knows well. One he's taken off many times before. One that he didn't think he'd be seeing tonight.

"If you're here to fuck me, then fuck me," you say a little coldly. "If not, you can go."

"B, that's not why I'm here," he says, but his eyes are on your body, now. His lips fold in on themselves. Throat bobs as he swallows.

"So go," you say.

He shakes his head.

"Well, I don't wanna talk," you say all rather childishly. "So this is your option. Fuck me, or leave."

"That's not fair."

"Life's not fair."

"Why are you being like this?"

The answer is simple: You want to be useful for him.

Oh, it's so pathetic. You want him to use you.

Not in a sexy, degrading kind of way, but a pathetic, needy kind of way. The same kind of way you let Seokjin use you. If Jeongguk fucks you, your drunken, out-of-sync head will think it means you still serve a purpose. Like he still needs you.

"Said it yourself," you shrug. "The people I care for use me."

He furrows his brows.

" I never used you," he hisses. "Not once did I ever fuck you just to use you."

"So then why the fuck did you?" You hiss right back, angry for the sake of being angry. "Why do you sleep with me? Still?!"

"Because I care about you!" He matches your volume, not really sure if he has the appropriate words to articulate himself with. "Because you're my friend, and I care. Because it was something we both wanted at the time. Because I like the way you feel, and I like the way you make me feel. If that's using you, then so be it - but not once was my own gratification at the top of the list of reasons why. Not once. Not ever."

Anything he could have said would have been wrong. You would have argued against him, contradicted yourself, gone round in circles regardless of what he had said.

"So it was never just because you wanted to fuck me?" You scoff. "There was always a big list behind it? Intentions? You never just wanted me? It was never just enough to want me?"

Jeongguk knows you. Knows what you're doing. Doesn't fight back.

"I wanted you. B, I still want you," he says softly - but when your hard gaze doesn't ease, he gets defensive. He also, strangely, starts to undo his shirt buttons, too. "And what about you, huh? Did you not use me? Hm?"

You're silent as he reaches the bottom of his shirt; toned chest exposed, honey skin warm.

"I can't hear you, B," he taunts. "Is that not exactly what you've done with me? Used me ?"

And then his fingers are fiddling with the buckle of his belt, too, standing so close to you that you can smell his aftershave.

"I never fucking used you," he whispers harshly, hands cupping your cheeks to pull you closer. You nestle into his touch, eyes wide and a little watery. Hands holding onto his waist, you're reminded of just how warm he always is. His nose nudges against yours.

You're both drunk. None of this makes much sense. Not now, and likely not when you're sober either.

"You're my best fuckin' friend. My best friend. You know how much I adore you?" He doesn't wait for an answer. Lifts his lips to press them against your forehead. "Never used you, Byeol. Never ."

It's not an apology, but it is something .

And after a week of nothing?

Oh, it's so lovely to have something .

"Please," you begin to say quietly, as if he's not already half undressed with no intention of leaving you. "Don't leave."

"Didn't come here to fuck you," he says. "But I also didn't come here to leave either."

"You don't have to fuck me," you say, a little embarrassed and ashamed of the ultimatum you'd thrown his way in the heat of your anger. "You can stay. I don't give a shit about the sex. I'm sorry. I just, I was so mad with you and I don't understand what's going wrong with us and-" you pause, scared you might cry, but catch your breath first before it wobbles. "And I think I was trying to reduce you to meaning something far less than what you do. I've been a terrible friend. Awful. I just..."

Jeongguk shakes his head. "I've not been a saint, either B. I'm sorry, too. Both said some shitty things. Both know we didn't mean them. Right?"

You nod, face still loosely in his grasp, brows pinching together all forlorn and pitiful.

"Look like a lil emoji, you do," he smiles down at you. "Can we just go to bed? I'm still a little drunk and I really don't wanna stand up anymore. Just want things to be normal again."

There's nothing more to argue about. Nothing that will make either of you feel any better. You're his only remedy.

And, so, somewhere between half-drunk apologies, and rambles of who was the bigger asshole, and who appreciates who more, you begin a dance you know all too well.

You touch. Stroke. Hold. Know that you shouldn't, but you roam. Feel .

He does the exact same thing back.

Whines a little, dulcet and needy, whenever you reach a spot he likes.

Neither of you seem to mind that the fumble is a little awkward, or the fact that you're both starting at zero. It's unlike you. You're both normally ready and raring to go - but the night has been draining and neither of you really expected to end up in this situation.

Truthfully, you know that you shouldn't take things further.

But you also know it's the only way things will really feel normal again.

Eventually, encouraged , Jeongguk sinks himself into you, unprotected.

Skin on skin, it's nothing new, but it's important, you think. Want him close. Want him yours.

And when he's like this?

Well, you've both said it before. It sort of feels like he is.

"Don't wanna fuck anyone that isn't you," he husks into the crook of your neck as your nails scratch against his scalp. "I know you're mad at me, but I don't wanna fuck anyone else."

His slow hips build up pace as he fucks himself into you, repeating himself. "Only wanna fuck you. You know that right? No one feels like you do."

You're not sure you believe him. It makes you sad. So inexorably, pitifully sad.

Yet the way he feels inside you makes your heart swell .

And so you say nothing; just let dulcet little whines escape your lips as he fucks himself deeper into you, wanting his intentions to be known.

You want to believe him. Want to believe that his words are as honest as you like to tell yourself his heart is.

"It doesn't matter," you husk back to him. "Doesn't matter if you wanna fuck other people. You're not mine."

But if he's not yours, it means you're not his either, and Jeongguk kind of hates that reality.

So he fucks you like you are. Buries his head into your neck, keeps you trapped beneath the safety of his body, does all the hard work so you can just feel good. With him. For him. Because of him. In spite of him.

He doesn't kiss you, but he wants to. Not just because he's horny and he likes the way it feels, but because it sort of feels like he'll cry if doesn't. Instead, he rests his nose against yours. Will let close the gap, if you want to.

And see the thing is, you're just so scared he'll say something that will shatter your soul, that you think it's safer to kiss him. Think your soul will be better protected if your lips are on his, even if it means he can steal it.

Pressing your lips up against his, you let him whine into your mouth. It's indistinguishable, but you swear you can almost hear his words: I'm yours, I'm yours, I'm yours. Or maybe, just stupid, stupid, stupid.

Either could be applicable.

Jeongguk doesn't think it matters. His words mean nothing. It's his actions that hold weight now. His choices .

He's made a few bad ones in the last few hours, but not you. Never you.

"Speak to me," he husks into your lips.

But what is there to say? He's choosing you now, granted, but he chose her tonight. Chose her in front of his friends. Chose her during the week. Let someone else choose you, instead.

"Byeol, baby." He grits through strained grunts. " Please ."

The way 'baby' always gets you folding has you so mad at yourself; but all you want is to pretend like he means it.

"Koo," you whimper back as he continues fucking himself into you.

"Yeah?"

"Keep it like that," you manage to say. "Feels so good like that."

"Yeah, baby?"

You nod. Press kisses into his neck. Let your nails scratch down his back. Leave evidence of him losing himself to you on his skin. Paint him in the colour of what it's like to love you, even if he doesn't.

When you reach down to rub yourself a little, to bring you closer to an orgasm, Jeongguk knocks your hand to the side. He wants to do it. He wants to be the reason why. He has to be. He has to make you come undone to make up for the fact it feels like he's falling apart, too.

It's embarrassing how quickly he gets you there. Stupid how your heart swells when your pussy miscommunicates, and tells you that your orgasm actually means something . Lame, how much your smile softens for him.

But then he's doing just the same. Asking where he should finish, and stuttering when you beg for what you want.

"Please, Koo. Inside me. Please."

But there's a weight to filling you raw that he can't bear, yet. He's not strong enough. And so he edges as far as can, pulling out only when he feels his release travelling through his body. Wanks himself onto you, spilling his cum all over your pussy; mound, lips, clit. You're his, his, his . Or at least, at this moment, you are. Once you clean yourself up, the feeling will fade.

Your mind taunts you. Something about Egypt, and rivers.

As his body collapses on yours, Jeongguk spent, you hold him close. Hug him. Never want him to leave, because you're scared that you'll lose him again. Scared that he'll choose her. Scared that he'll leave, just like Seokjin always does.

Of course, he doesn't. He tosses you his shirt as he goes to grab your something to clean yourself up with from the bathroom. Waltzes around your apartment in just his boxers, as if it's a home you share. Strokes your back when you both go to brush your teeth, and is the one to grab the water when you eventually head to bed. Stands by you just beforehand, and rids you of his shirt. Gets you naked, 'cause he wants to feel your skin against his, in the simplest, most human of ways.

He tells you to get into bed as he heads back to the sitting room. You do as he says, and watch him through the gap in your bedroom door as he goes to check the front door is locked. There's no intention for him to leave in the night. Will never leave his side of your bed cold. Won't abandon you.

Because he does choose you. He chooses you time and time again.

And though you don't realise it, yet, he chose you tonight. You over her .

Perhaps it wasn't a linear choice and perhaps there were half a dozen smaller choices that contradict his largest one, but it counts for something.

"I got you something," he whispers against your shoulder, finally back in your bed with you.

"Hmm?" You question, a little curious but not really wanting anything from him.

There's a coldness to your disinterest; one that Jeongguk is well aware of, but trying to ignore. He's only known you like this once, really - the time he lied to you.

Knows that you're probably processing through similar emotions. Knows it means you likely think he's lying about something. Knows that he should tell you what happened in your absence tonight - but he's scared, and thinks he'll lose you entirely. Thinks things are already hanging by a thread.

Doesn't realise that the red strings of fate take more than just a vicious pair of ruby nails to tear through them.

And so he doesn't tell you.

Instead, he leans over the edge of his bed to grab his coat and rummages around in the pockets until he finds what he's after.

The softening of your eyes as he presents you with the pretty little plushie you'd been trying to win earlier on in the night? Oh, it's like Jeongguk can breathe again.

"Know you wanted it," he mumbles, passing it over to you. Looks away a little, then focuses on your hands, where you gently clasp the My Melody.

He doesn't tell you the part where he spent 30,000won on a plushie worth no more than 5000. Doesn't tell you that he accidentally won a Cinnamoroll, too, and gave it to a group of kids who really had no business being out so late in the party area of town. One of the girls, who could have been no more than thirteen, had a little Cinnamoroll scrunchie in her hair. The group unanimously decided that she'd be the one to keep it.

The simplicity of such an exchange between friends had Jeongguk thinking of you. First and foremost, you're his best friend. There's no person he'd rather be with when he's feeling as torn apart as he is now - but when you look at him, and smile softly, he feels like maybe you could help put him back together, too.

"You got me her," you say, stating the obvious.

"I got you her," he confirms. Watches as your eyes sparkle in the low luminescence of your neon light, pouring over the little plushie, checking all the details. "Is she okay?"

You nod. Hold her close. Look over to Jeongguk. Find that he's far too far away. Reach your arm out for him to come closer. He reaches up for your fingers, and just holds your hand. Pulls you closer. Gets you exposed, your sheets pooling around your waist as he moves you. Your other hand is still clutching your little plushie, not caring for keeping yourself covered anymore, coming to sit in Jeongguk's lap, right where he wants you.

"Look," you say softly, wiggling the floppy ears of the plushie. "See her ears?"

Jeongguk watches you with subtle adoration, and hums a quiet confirmation.

"What colour are they?" You ask, deciding to give him lore he never asked for.

Stroking his hands up your waist, just to keep you close, he wonders if it's a trick question. "Pink."

You shake your head. "Nope. She's wearing a hood. Her hood is pink. Her ears are white."

"Trick question," he pouts, which makes you smile. Kinda was. Kinda knew he'd get it wrong.

And so you kiss him to say sorry. Kiss him, as if you aren't just friends. Kiss him, as if he's not holding on to your bare waist for dear life. Kiss him, as if he's not naked, and nor are you. Kiss him, like it's normal.

He keeps his forehead pressed to yours when you withdraw, and lets his nose nudge up against your own. Strokes gently against it. Loves the way it feels. Just another thing about you he'll never understand, but also never complain about.

"What was that for?" he whispers.

"For being a good friend," you whisper right back. "I know I'm not always easy."

Jeongguk shakes his head. Doesn't think he's been a good friend in the slightest. Knows you'd agree, if you knew the chain of events that had led him to your door.

His hands stroke up your back and encourage a hug, of which you naturally fall into. Arms around his neck, you press another kiss into his hair, as his lips do the same just beneath your ear.

"Best friend," he whispers against your skin. Hugs you tighter. Never wants to let go. "I don't deserve you. I'm so sorry."

You shrug. Neither of you have acted like saints over the last week or so. You afford him a little extra wiggle room, because you know he's not really been himself lately. Things said in the heat of the moment aren't always a reflection of true feelings.

You pull away a little. Stroke his hair back. Tuck his long fringe behind his ears and smile at how pliant he is for you. And then you kiss him again. Hands on his cheeks, lips soft. Just once.

"I'm still tipsy," you lie. "Don't get used to it."

"I won't," he promises - but oh, how he wishes he could.

See, Jeongguk thinks he knows , now. Thinks that he knows the way he's feeling. Thinks he understands his brain, and his heart, and the silly little things they tell him; secrets whispered only for him to know. You've done it again, Jeongguk. We told you not to. You said you wouldn't.

But he ignored them then, and he'll ignore them now, for he knows that in the coming weeks he won't be able to.

"I've never known you without your tattoos," you mumble your thoughts aloud, eyes on his arm as your fingers trace the lines. Jeongguk's never really given it much consideration before. Had been too busy looking at you even to realise your contemplation. "Never seen your skin without art on it."

He's slow as he rests the side of his index finger beneath your chin and tilts your head in the opposite direction. Your eyes are on his other arm, now.

"There," he says softly. "Looked just like that."

You smile. Stroke your fingertips up the inside of his bare forearm. Deliberately move from freckle to freckle, marvelling at the wonder of his natural markings; the things that make him human.

"I wonder what it would have been like to know this version of you," you say quietly.

"Me too," he replies. "But you know what?"

"What?"

"I'm glad you know this version."

"You are?"

Part of you is disappointed. Feels like maybe he's aware there wouldn't have been space for you with Hayun around.

He nods, looking up at you with wide eyes and an awareness that he needs to be careful with his words. The lines beneath his eyes deepen as he smiles, little specks of pink light catching in his dark irises. Prettier than any flower, you think.

"We both had life to live," he says. "Lessons to learn. At least, I did. I think if I'd have met you sooner I would have ruined things."

"How so?"

"Dunno," he lies. Remembers the way Hayun told him his feelings would ruin things, too. Saddens him that he was put on this earth to love in abundance, and yet all his heart ever seems to do is destroy things.

"Probably would have fallen in love with you, or something stupid like that."

The silence he's met with is expected.

The way you shrug, and say "maybe I would have fallen in love with you, too," is not expected.

It silences him. So you just smile.

"I guess we'll never know. Doesn't matter, though, does it?"

"Suppose not," Jeongguk says with a tight, closed-lip smile. His lip ring doesn't do the thing, and the smile doesn't quite reach his eyes, but it's late and there's no need to be over analysing careless words in the comedown of a drunk hookup.

You fall asleep far easier than he does. Content in his arms, you know that awkward feelings towards his ex aren't worth fighting over. If you and Jeongguk were together, then maybe. If he fucked her again, then maybe. If he started withholding small portions of truth from you to spare her, then maybe.

But for now, you'll put her down as an annoyance. Bad pollution. Rain falling on your journey to work. One pump of shampoo left in the bottle, when you really need three. Not something to stress about, just something to be aware of.

And when you wake up to a still sleeping Jeongguk wrapped around your waist, like an expensive watch on his wrist, the red stain of the bar stamp still smudged on his hand, you forget her entirely. Can't recall her name. Don't know her perfume. Decide that she doesn't exist. Has no place in your life.

Yet if you were to pay attention, you'd know it was her lipstick tarnishing the back of his hand; smeared as he'd push it off of his lips on his way out of the club, trying to rid himself of the way she felt. Trying to mask the sensation that came with succumbing to her. Trying to attribute the feeling on his lips to the pressure of them against his hand, not her lips.

Jeongguk wakes up with you. Showers with you. Orders breakfast - but when it arrives, he can't stomach a damn thing.

"Hangover," he lies.

"Unlike you," you say. He's never normally one to turn down food, even when he's hungover.

You're still learning about him. Yet to discover that guilt ravages his appetite.

It's a lesson you hadn't expected to be taught so soon, but when he looks up at you from across the kitchen, eyes a little watery and gaze forlorn, you just sort of know.

Can't explain it. Can't articulate it.

Your frown is soft, eyes just as defeated as your shoulders now appear.

"Maybe you should go home," you simply say. You don't want confirmation of your assumption that something happened last night. "I'm sure you've still got lots of studying to do."

Oh God, she knows.

He knows you know. Knows that he can't do anything. Knows that if you don't know, trying to explain himself will only be an admission of guilt. Knows that if you do know, explaining himself won't make anything better. Will likely only make things worse.

"Lots to do," he nods. Doesn't wanna disturb your day any further. Your life. Doesn't wanna keep doing things that will only cause irreparable damage.

So for now he goes home, and causes just temporary damage.

Is on the living room floor with a tube of E6000 glue and a few panels of shattered display case when Jimin arrives home from wherever he stayed the night before.

Tossing his wallet down on the kitchen island, Jimin knows this is a new break. Knows Jeongguk's already fixed up the last one.

"Do we need to sign you up for anger management, or something?" Jimin tries to joke, but it comes out so sternly it seems like he actually means it. Maybe he does. Maybe Jeongguk should. "Two in two weeks must be a record."

"Just need to practise some breathing exercises," Jeongguk says. Has already googled it. Knows he can't keep doing this.

He never has, and never would, lash out at anyone else. It's not anyone else that he's frustrated with. It's himself. Doesn't know how to function with a head like his. That's all.

"I'm worried about you," Jimin eventually says. Knows Jeongguk won't take well to him prying, but knows that he has to express his concern regardless. "Ever since Hayun got back-"

"I know," Jeongguk interrupts, but is soft with his voice. "Trust me. I know. Head's a fucking mess. And then there's Byeol."

Jimin had been looking in the fridge for something to eat, but pauses when Jeongguk mentions you. Still refers to you affectionately. Only ever calls Hayun by her name - not Yun, like he used to. He doesn't interrupt. Knows Jeongguk must wanna talk, and doesn't wanna make him clam up.

"I just... I'm repeating shit. Making the same mistakes. Don't wanna lose her, but am scared that if we stop, like... doing stuff, that she'll get bored. That I'll lose her regardless," he admits. Is embarrassed by his own emotions.

Jimin has seen first hand how much you care. Has fucked you himself, and knows full well that just because sex isn't on table between you with him, it doesn't mean you don't want to be his friend. The idea of sex being the only thing tying you to Jeongguk is abhorrent. Offensive.

But also entirely understandable.

Jeongguk is a product of his past traumas, just like everyone else. He's been hurt, and how he copes with his feelings is a direct result of that.

"She's not Hayun," Jimin says. "Don't lower her to that level."

And then, just because Jeongguk can't hold it in any longer, he splutters out the truth.

"She kissed me last night."

It's red. Her nails, her lips, her laugh; the memory of it. Dangerous. Damning.

"Hayun. She kissed me, and I kissed her back."

He spares the details. Doesn't share how she'd asked to see the courtyard in which she knew Jeongguk had spent the turn of the New Year with you. Doesn't share how she'd sat with him on the bench, looking up to the stars. Doesn't share the questions asked and the answers given.

"Said you think about me sometimes. Were you lying?"

"I'm many things, buddy, but I'm not a liar."

"What... What do you think about? When you think of me?"

He shouldn't have asked. Morbid curiosity got the better of him. He didn't expect her to list specifics. To reference the summer he got his first tattoos and how he'd always fake a little pain afterwards so that she'd kiss him better. To mention the same summer, in his parents house when they'd been away on holiday and he'd been house sitting. How she'd stayed there the entire time with him. How every room, except his parents, now has a memory of her in it.

"Sometimes I think about fucking you," she had said. "But a lot of the time I just think about what it was like to kiss you."

His achilles heel. A weakness. One she knows well.

And for a moment - too tipsy for his own good, too frustrated with the idea of you leaving with someone else, too stubborn to listen to his heart as it told him to stop - he leant into the weakness. Let her lips be reminded of his. Let her hand roam his body. Let his roam hers. Surprised her when he didn't go straight for her ass like he always used to, but went for her chest instead. Pulled away almost immediately - and that's how Hayun now knows that you really are a threat.

"We don't have to stop," she had said.

Jeongguk had shaken his head. "We do."

"We're single. What harm will it do?"

"You really need me to answer that? History not speak for itself?"

Hayun was quiet for a moment. Nodded. Looked down. "It's her, isn't it?"

Just like before, Jeongguk had said, "she has a name."

And, so, just like before, Hayun said, "and yet you knew exactly who I meant."

Jeongguk shakes the memories from his head. Forgets the way she kissed him again. Forgets how he let her. Forgets how her hands were back on his body, and how they got a little over friendly. Also forgets that embarrassment that comes with someone trying to touch your cock, only for it to be soft. Forgets how his brain was screaming chess, chess, chess at him.

"You can't come and blow my life up just as I'm starting to sort it out, Yun," he'd pleaded as he finally walked away. "Don't. Please, don't."

Jimin isn't stupid. He knows there's more than what Jeongguk has told him. Something as simple as a kiss wouldn't result in this, surely.

"And DB found out?"

Jeongguk shakes his head. "No. And then... And then I showed up at her door-"

"Gguk," Jimin sighs, a little disappointed for what he knows is to come.

So Jeongguk just shrugs. Can't defend himself.

"Did you at least tell her?" Jimin asks.

He doesn't need to answer. The guilt is written all over his face. Jimin closes his eyes. Sighs. Tips his head back to heavens, as asks anyone listening why they had to curse him with such an idiot for a best friend.

"What did I say, huh?" Jimin huffs. "Told you not to fuck her until you sorted your head out - not to go and fuck your head up even more and then fuck her again just for the fun of it-"

"Wasn't for the fun of it!" Jeongguk stresses. "Jimin, I- Oh fuck ." He puts down the shards of the display case he's been holding and rubs a palm over his face, pushing his hair back. He looks so fucking defeated, but Jimin thinks it kinda serves him right. "I've gone and fucking done it again."

Jimin doesn't want Jeongguk to clarify what he means by that.

And Jeongguk doesn't really want to admit it.

They both know exactly what Jeongguk's done.

Or more so, what his heart has done.

"Well then stop fucking her!" Jimin almost laughs. "Christ, Gguk. Do you seriously just never learn your lesson?"

"I know," he pouts, letting his body slouch against the sofa. "I know, I know. I didn't mean to. I just... I just wanted to be with her last night. Byeol . I wanted to see her. And I was gonna tell her, but she was already pissed off with me and so I was trying to fix things-"

"You can't fix things with sex ," Jimin shakes his, exasperated.

"Well," Jeongguk considers. "I kinda did."

"Gguk."

"Sorry," he grimaces, knowing that trying to make a joke of it all isn't the correct thing to do."I think she knows. She pretended that she didn't, but I know her, Minnie. Know how she works, how she excuses the bad behaviour of the people she cares about. She knows something happened."

"Then she deserves your honesty at the very least, Jeongguk," Jimin says. "Sooner rather than later."

Jeongguk frowns. Knows Jimin is right. Knows that the damage is already done. His bad choices have been made.

When he tries to study that afternoon, he can't.

When he tries to eat that evening, he can't.

When he tries to sleep at night, he can't.

All he can do is stare at the glitter on his forearm from where your head had been resting the night before.

The stars are hidden by clouds, tonight. Curtains open, the city lights leak into his room. Regretfully, Jeongguk thinks he won't be able to see the stars for a while. Too much cloud. Will take a while to clear.

Yet when he closes his eyes and is consumed by visions of you, it's like his mind is a telescope, and you're a galaxy reserved just for him.

His star girl.

But stars burn out; and Jeongguk doesn't know how much longer he has left.

Phone vibrating beneath his pillow, he almost considers ignoring it - but then hears the faint familiar rustle of paper on his sheets.

A bird has fallen.

He reaches for his phone. Checks the screen. It's you. There's no real message, just a link to a youtube video. Some ASMR type thing, with a clickbait title. STRESS = 0% !! ULTIMATE REVISION BREAK ASMR TO HELP YOU SLEEP!! (no talking).

He takes the confirmation of you being awake to message you.

JK: are you free tomorrow?

You: why?

JK: don't be difficult, b. just wanna talk to you about something.

You: it can wait. no heavy talks until after your exam, okay?

It only confirms to him that you know . You have to. Wouldn't reply like that if you didn't. Doesn't make him feel any better.

JK: a bird fell, too.

You: it can wait, too.

JK: are you sure?

You: positive.

He almost locks his phone.

Tries his luck, instead.

JK: sunday, tomorrow

You: at least we know you'll pass your exam if they ask you about days of the week

JK: will you still come round?

He locks his phone, now. Doesn't wanna see your answer.

Doesn't get one.

You leave him on read.

AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI

#bad decisions

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setcolder · 4 months

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The cruise arc is way crazier animated wtfff i CRIED during yor's revelation rearranging her motivation to keep her job.

I think yor and yuri sibling relationship is rarely being discussed because of the siscon gag. Its annoying honestly (the whole siscon ordeal being in the way), bc they have a very deep connection. Yuri prolly only remember yor as the only caregiver and family his whole life. On the other hand, yor remember the part where theyre still children with parents, hence why she said "I'm glad you (yuri) are with me". Yuri is an integral person in her life. The center of her motivation to fight. And yuri grew up to fight for HER too.

It's so heartbreaking that i feel sorry. Covering up their own bloodied hand from each other and still managed to put up cheerful face to one another. They both matured very young in their own way. Yor as the head of the family, the breadwinner, and yuri burdened with guilt as he feel powerless to be the one who protects her. As ironic as it is, since she doesn't need one. Although, both shouldn't have been in that position. Yor shouldve gone to school herself rather than taking dirty politicians life. Yuri grew to be more selfish than yor is—he only cared about her and everything comes back to her. His moral is yor. While yor managed to build moral compass that is based on humanity and compassion. But how did they have this divided perspective on living? What made yor grow up so well, despite spending almost all her life in the cold battlefield? Was there a parental figure that keep yor's moral inclined?

Yuri being possessive and obsessive worship toward yor most probably is a result of witnessing her coming home disheveled all his life. He went to school as an orphan too, theres chances him and yor are being bullied by their surrounding on childhood period. That's probably enough reason, beside his personality is a part of comedic gag. But still, i would want to know what happened throughout his life too. Yor was so positive, and shes his parental figure, but he formed his own grey moral to hold on as a mindset.

I'm curious too as too how and why they moved to the city. They lived in outskirts i believe? What made them move out? I think around her teenage year yor managed to reach thier financial for the better, and chose schools in the city for yuri's better education? As far as i remember, yuri was doing his education year pretty fast compared to his peers

And also, i know in the canon timeline yuri being an sss officer were probably going for less than a year. But hes already got someone close to a caring guardian, his lieutenant. He even knew about yuri whole motivation being his sister (well ig everyone who acquainted yuri will automatically be shoved with yuri's yapping on yor)

I feel like the canon manga should really address the situation between their sibling relation. When the secrets are out in light, would that motivation will stay the same? Same goes to loid as well, although he would be still pretty strong on that since his motivation is going to make the world for a better place. He aims so high its still wouldn't be a question if he decided to stay in this line of work. While yor and yuri though, some parts its still solid if they stayed respectively, but since their motivation is to have their own siblings in peace while in reality they fought their own battles—it will bring even more questioning about their motivation to live and fight.

At some point the siscon gag need to be dropped. It feels a shame if theyre not getting more explored. Yuri thinking loid stole yor from him is a given since hes practically made himself bitchless but he need to flip the script and accept the new addition as his family—that way he will feel less sense of loneliness. He thought with loid in the picture he might taken the role of protecting yor from the dirty world (but for this hes stubborn and think loid isn't capable enough) (i just thought this would made some sense on why he hates loid so much) (i rationalize things other than his irrational siscon thing bc i dislike that)

I was originally putting think pieces about yor and now i ended up talking more about yuri FUCKK I'll write more in separate post damn

#yor #yor briar #yor forger #yuri briar #spy family #spy x family #loid forger #anya forger #briar siblings needs therapy but they dont know it yet #oh i also hope they got closer as to where their parents are #but since its situation on wars i doubt it though. its common for few bodies to remain unknown #still

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firstelevens · 6 days

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Before the beginning?

some pre-canon bonding from the D&D AU! sincerest apologies for how long it got!

Of all the places that Sam has traveled to with Steve and Natasha, the kingdom of Wakanda is somehow the closest and the farthest from home. The city is awash with mechanizations and automatons moving so fluidly that it might as well be magic, every innovation leaps and bounds ahead of any other place that Sam has been. He's sure he spends their entire journey to the palace gawping at everything around him.

Still, there are parts that feel familiar. They've been given shelter on the outskirts of the city, a cluster of cabins on the banks of a river. They pass by many a fisherman on their way out, and if Sam squints and looks at the horizon, he can almost imagine that his father and brother will appear next.

Maybe that's why he wakes from a nightmare not too long after he's fallen asleep. Natasha's breathing seems even on the other side of the room, and she's still recovering from a wound, so he tries to keep his footsteps light as he moves to the door and slips out into the night. He doesn't realize that he's not alone until he gets close to the water.

Sam has never known Bucky to be anything but a shadow, and that holds true even in his weakened state. The noise that Bucky makes shuffling his seat on the riverbank is surely more for Sam's benefit than his own, and it stops Sam from startling too badly.

Bucky's face is wan in the moonlight, dark circles extra prominent under his eyes. His hair grew out in his weeks of captivity, and although it carries the scent of orange blossoms when the wind blows through it, it hangs around Bucky's face and obscures his eyes from view. It's only when Sam sits down beside him that he realizes why: rescuing Bucky before the Baron's return to the castle had meant leaving behind his metal arm, locked away somewhere in the belly of the castle.

He hadn't spoken about it except to ask Steve where it was a single time, and nobody has brought it up since.

Sam and Bucky are hardly friends. He'd only participated in the rescue because it was important to Steve, and it seemed like Natasha could use the backup in talking Steve out of reckless self-sacrifice at the slightest hint of a threat to Bucky.

Even before the rescue, after Bucky had first escaped Hydra's captivity, the only words that he and Sam had exchanged were sharp and combative. Bucky, wary of strangers and untrusting of anyone but Steve, had lashed out first over Sam's presence and then over Redwing's. Sam had brooked no nonsense from him, pushing back just as hard, even though Steve always looked a little pained to see it. It was Natasha who pointed out that the most Bucky had spoken since coming back to himself was during arguments with Sam.

Now, though, there's no arguing. Bucky's knees are pulled up to his chest, his right arm braced over them so his chin can rest on it. Escaping from Hydra the first time had at least left Bucky fierce, if erratic. Captivity in Zemo's castle just seems to have diminished him somehow, and Sam hates seeing it.

"It's beautiful here," says Sam, when he can't stand the quiet any longer. "Maybe I can convince the royal family to let me stay."

Bucky is silent for a long moment, drawn-out enough for Sam to regret speaking at all. Then: "What, you think they have an opening for a pigeon wrangler?"

For his own sake, Sam can't acknowledge the way his heart jumps when Bucky speaks. "They just might," he says. "Although if that's the case, we really should do something about this hair of yours before all the unwrangled pigeons decide to nest in it."

"I've tried," says Bucky, and the note of defeat in his voice makes Sam's heart clench.

"I'm sure you have," he says, trying to hit the same teasing note he hit earlier. "But we've all seen what your beard looks like, so none of this is a surprise. What you need is someone experienced."

Bucky's voice is dry. "In what, preening like a peacock?"

"In looking this good all the time," says Sam. He waits for a moment, wondering if he should just leave it there, but caution has never been his strong suit. "If you wanted, I could maybe...I could help get it out of your way, is what I mean. I'm alright with braids."

There's another agonizing moment of quiet. Sam would suspect that Bucky is doing this on purpose, but for the nervous flexing of his right hand against his knee.

"Okay," he says, once Sam is convinced he'll die of anticipation. "If you like."

"Okay," Sam says, and moves slowly around until he's kneeling behind Bucky.

And Sam doesn't have the senses that Bucky and Steve have, or the observation skills that Natasha has honed, but as he runs his hands through Bucky's hair, he still catches the soft, wounded noise that comes from his mouth.

"Is this alright?" Sam asks, hands stilling in Bucky's hair. Almost instantly, he feels Bucky push back up into Sam's touch.

"Yes," he replies, his voice hoarse. "Fine."

It's imperfect, the way Sam can only rely on touch as he sections out Bucky's hair and begins to braid it, but it's still enough that Sam can feel Bucky relax under his hands, breaths coming easier as the hair is pulled up off his neck. Not wanting to disrupt the calm when the braid is done, Sam pulls the ribbon tying off a pouch of herbs and uses it to tie off the end of Bucky's braid, then absently smooths a flyaway into place.

"There," he murmurs. "That's better."

There's only a soft noise of assent from Bucky, but Sam hears it all the same. They both stay where they are, the quiet washing over them, until dawn breaks.

#abarbaricyalp #sambucky #zainab does ask meme things #sambucky dnd au #my fic

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nettleshuttle · 8 months

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back from the dead to ramble about my hsr au that i’ll most probably never write<3

so. hear me out:

the alternate setting is a huge city, with many hugely diversified and autonomous communities within, as well as quite the amplitude between rich sectors and its most run down parts. i was thinking san francisco for the reference, but who knows

each district in the city, all of which have quite the autonomous identities due to being rather closed off (via congregating tendencies boosted by city infrastructure layout) and self contained, corresponds to a planet region on the in game map. so there’s a luofu china town somewhere outside the main business sector, a yarilo district somewhere at the outskirts, herta’s research company hq in a multistoried steel-and-glass skyscraper in the uptown, etc

and so, we’ve got a family living somewhere in that city’s traditional, yet partially highly modernized luofu: jing yuan, a high-ranked cop and, effectively, a single parent to his nephew, yanqing. the two live together

yanqing is actually the main protag, because i love him and im totally unbiased. he’s a hot headed, teenaged tangled knot of adhd, endless energy, passion for his fencing classes and adoration for jing yuan. all the same, they’re not your ideal family, seeing how little time jing yuan can actually devote to him outside his job and how grossly he tends to overestimate yanqing’s potential for being responsible, especially for a teenaged kid. yanqing mostly minds his own, working hard to please his dad, though he’s far from independent (especially emotionally)

in the lives of these two, strange things start to go down. jing yuan is even busier, claiming he’s got a difficult case to deal with. unknown to yanqing (at least for a time), he’s tackling the influx of strange drugs in the city’s black market - ones that transform its users into so-called mara after a single dose, creating specially enhanced individuals with sharpened senses and skyrocketed bodily regeneration, who can get a temporary kick of extraordinary powers out of the drug. these come in different kinds, each granting a different kind of power - physical enhancement of the hunt, vitality of the abundance, durability of the preservation… - and they’re highly additive

much to yanqing’s irritation, two people who claim to be old friends of jing yuan start hanging around their place - some kind of artsy history scholar, dan heng, and a highly suspicious guy who looks like a swindler and an organ dealer, blade. they’re helping jing yuan with the investigation - how, yanqing has no idea, but he knows they’re getting way too familiar with his dad

as the case escalates, jing yuan and his two accomplices hide the symptoms of their work-related struggles far less successfully than they think. to subdue raging mara that start to pop up around town, they take the drugs themselves and use the boost to improve their performance on the job. none of that is, of course, official - that’s why jing yuan works with these two rather than regular cop partners. yanqing sees them as two unwelcome guests, prolonging their uninvited and unwarranted stay well beyond the limits of his patience. what’s more, both seem to try and suck up to him to gain an additional access way to jing yuan. why? they must have agendas of their own, especially seeing how dan heng and blade don’t get along that well between the two of them. he supposes he can put up with them though, as long as blade keeps giving out swordsmanship tricks to him…

yanqing catches on far more swiftly regarding the drug case than anyone expects him to - to try and help out his dad, he pretends not to know about anything and, instead, wants to help get to the bottom of the drug mystery by himself. who distributes them? how they are made? for what purpose? how to counter them? what is even going on in that city of theirs?

while roaming around town to find these answers, he meets a strange girl from the yarilo district - clara. they pursue certain trails together, hugely unaware of the danger they’re putting themselves in

ready to do what it takes to get to the bottom of the case, they take the mara drugs too when pressed by circumstances and awaken powers of the icy hunt and brutal destruction. while faced with the after effects of that decision, they struggle to maintain their sanity (and keep clear of jing yuan’s suspicion, which yanqing is still trying to avoid) all while neck deep in the drug market bog that suddenly appears to be a part of a much, much bigger, darker and more supernatural picture than expected

and that’s about it. do i have the solutions to all these mysteries? absolutely not. i’m just digging the modern city hsr reality with a small magical twist, as well as the familial vision of yanqing and jing yuan, with the mysterious and chaotic addition of dan heng and blade. also yanqing and clara should totally be besties!

#hsr #honkai star rail #au ideas #hsr yanqing #jing yuan #random ramblings

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lightdragon789 · 4 months

Text

Other inserts backstory/facts Pt 2.

Matthew Grey

Part two and talking about my insert for Lost Prince, Matthew. He’s big tough knight with an unwavering heart, so let’s get into his backstory then facts about him.

Backstory:

Matthew grew up in the outskirts of the kingdom, helping his father in collecting fish for local markets. He never knew his mother as she died giving birth to him and his father treasured Matthew as his last gift from his beloved. He never remarried as she was the only one for him and put his focus on Matthew. Telling him stories of them together and how much she would adore him.

Even still, Matthew’s father didn’t want Matthew to grow up poor fisherman like him. He prayed everyday for a sign that something great would come for his son. His prayers were heard as when Matthew was 12 he was helping bringing in fish and found the urn. To which Matthew learned the story of the lost “princess” and he was excited thinking they would get recognition from the kingdom.

However, his father had another idea. He wrote a letter to the kingdom that his son found the urn and how he wants him to be trained as a knight to save her. After he delivered the letter, he told Matthew about what was going to happen and it made Matthew upset. He didn’t want to leave his dad as he was his only family. But his dad told him he couldn’t change this as this was his wish for him to live a great life and not be a poor fisherman.

He made Matthew make a promise that in times of despair that they’ll listen for each other’s voice to comfort them and keep moving forward. Matthew begrudgingly agreed to the promise and the rest of the time was spent with him packing and spending a lot of time with his dad. When knights came and a member of the council came and confirmed it was the right urn. They requested Matthew and they hug one last time before Matthew is taken to start his training to save the princess.

His training was tough as they trained him in many fields in order to be prepared for anything. To cook, patch wounds, fight and defend. Even using spells to help in strengthening himself. When he turned 18 he fought in many battles, gained many burns and scars. The sounds of battles and screams soon drowned out his dad’s voice and after so many he forgot how his father sounded.

However, he found a new way to combat all his struggles and motivate him forward. That was saving people/comrades. Seeing them thrive and smile to see the next day always have Matthew the encouragement to continue his work. He still wishes to see his father again one day but knows that will happen once he saves the princess.

Matthew also had a bit of struggle with his sexuality. As he always saw knights trying to woo maidens and Matthew never had the urge to do the same. Plus with his muscular stature, most women were fearful of Matthew. Even more so when his comrade were doing a drunken dare and Matthew wanting to stay sober. Did a dare where he kissed a maiden which led to him being slapped and called a beast. Which made him a bit more recluse when it came to a love life. Knowing when he saves the princess he’ll be betrothed to her. Which made him still confused.

He questioned if he was more attracted to men then women but once again. Knowing he’ll be betrothed, he never let love be his top priority and seeing it as a fairy tale he needed to earn.

Once he became 27, he completed his final trials in order to be ready to rescue the lost heir. He was still a bit withdrawn but hid it behind his helmet as he raised his sword and took back the urn that started him on his journey. Then rode on his mare to the portal.

Now for some facts and some cute things to add in for his interactions with Orin ^^

Matthew design is insirpied by the small glimpse of the knight in the second episode. I added in freckles, black medium length hair and the fact that Matthew has a somewhat baby face.

He is 27 years old, 6’3 and goes by (He/Him) pronouns.

Matthew was given a nickname amongst other knights, who saw Matthew getting special treatment due to finding the urn. That nickname being “The Golden Knight.” Which he didn’t like being called but it became a common nickname to Matthew.

He is homosexual and Demiromantic.

Matthew raised a mare that he named Ebony. Who he’s rode into battle many times and even taught her special tricks. Such as whistle commands as anyone would think he’s signaling other knights.

Due to his large stature, he does all he can to not appear so scary. Which doesn’t work all the time and he wishes others wouldn’t be afraid of him.

Hence he was afraid to do the same to Orin, fearful he would hurt him again after their duel.

However, Orin has given Matthew some courage in showing he wasn’t the brute many perceived him to be. Also making him forget about it and just being himself.

And yes, Orin was Matthew’s gay awakening XD

He also brought Ebony into the dimension so that she wouldn’t be hurt by creatures outside. She got along well with Orin after offering her an apple.

Vice versa, Matthew gets along well with Orin’s goats. Being very gentle, even to one’s that headbutt him.

Matthew already had a disconnect with the kingdom as they seemed more invested in his training than his well being. The knowledge of Orin’s imprisonment and how to free him made him distrust them more. As he didn’t know about the fire until the mage told him. Hence his resolve to want to stay with Orin in case the Mage or himself couldn’t find the incantation to free him.

Knowing the feeling of isolation from his early years in the kingdom and not wishing Orin to be alone again.

Also despite his large height, he loves being little spoon. Though he does t mind being big spoon either.

If he could, he would have a pet owl. He loves them a lot.

That’s all I have for Matthew atm. Can’t wait to see what’s in store for Lost Prince and the journey these two go on.

Next time, I’ll be doing Avery story.

So I hope you guys like this one and any question ask in the ask box! ^^

#obsidian lantern #the lost prince #audio story #oc lore

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offantasiesandreams · 2 years

Note

I absolutely love how you write the Batter trio, can we get more lighthearted stuff from them? Perhaps them being transported to the reader/players world? Doesn’t have to be fully lighthearted but yknow

Thank you, that's a very high compliment! I never would have thought I'd ever write for all three of them, but here we are! And of course you can, I love me some lighthearted stuff, it's always fun!

Batter Trio Transported to Reader’s World

At first the three of them will be rather confused. But could you blame them? They were in an unfamiliar environment yet again, this time with no pointers where to go. No rainbow bridge to lead them anywhere, only the outskirts of a city or town with a few people staring at them. Once they have awoken, most people will become skittish and scatter, but you stayed to see what would happen, unafraid of the tall white, four eyed man, the ghost and the crocodile.

While it was odd to you to be talking to some beings that clearly were not of this world, you soon enough learned that they seemed to be less dangerous than they looked, for the most part, just wanting to find their way back home instead. Feeling bad for them, you decided to take them with you, letting them stay at your place until they could either return to their world or find a place to call their own.

What you didn’t know was that it would turn out to be complete and utter chaos. Batter was easy enough to disguise as a human, but the same could not be said for Ghost and Bad. Though, you’d be lying if you said that you couldn’t make some good and real cryptid sighting videos with the two of them. Batter too, if you tried hard enough. Bad would absolutely be down for it, only for the video to be ruined by Ghost asking what the fuck you were doing up at ass o’ clock in the night.

The bathroom will be occupied a lot. Not all the time, but only when you, or someone else, needs to use it. Naturally, this goes for daytime, but also during the night. Of course, the three of them have rather different ways of handling that, but they’ll be nicer if it was you who occupied it. Ghost will simply beat Bad up while Batter will just resign himself to his fate. Of course, yelling is involved.

If you’re lucky, though, then the police won’t show up at your house ever again. What are they gonna do about three ghost hunting saviours? They’re gonna get scared themself and just leave you alone. And if they don’t, they’ll get an earful from Ghost until they do. Though, do keep an eye on Bad before he eats too many people. Take him hunting instead, that way he won’t get in as much trouble.

Given all the ruckus the other two make, you might sometimes forget Batter is even there, too busy shaking your head at the other two, but he’s very pleasant to have around. Albeit very awkward. He tries to talk to you, to show his gratitude that you’re letting him stay over, he just doesn’t know how. But he’ll be the one to do most of the chores, but not cooking. Don’t let him into the kitchen, ever.

You’re gonna be eating, or at least cooking, a lot of meat based dishes. Batter barely knows anything else, Bad, if he could, would be a complete carnivore, and Ghost just eats anything. You could try cooking together, but it’ll just end up in a lot of yelling and Batter being rather depressed because he messed up the steak.

Speaking of depression, having those silly guys around will do wonders for you, though. Even if they’re not actively doing anything with you, they’re fun. They’ll make you laugh with their antics and cheer you up at least a little bit. And if you need it, they can try to take care of the chores, stay with you and make sure you eat or just keep you company in general. Eventually, you’re gonna be part of their funny trio and they would go to the ends of the world for you.

#off (game)#off x reader #off fangame #continue/stop/rise #csr #batter x reader #batter x player #ghost batter x reader #ghost batter x player #bad batter x reader #bad batter x player #I remember when I was at a school trip in my last year of middle school #we were eight people in one “apartment” and had one bathroom #no one ever got to use it even in the middle of the night because it was always occupied #in hindsight that was literally so funny #my friend just went back to bed completely sad because of it #either way are they gonna race to the bathroom calling each other insults?#absolutely

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samv73 · 1 year

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Character list

A list of the romance options and their overall personality, see who you'd like to spend the apocalypse with in this xreader scenario!

Includes: Toby, Jack, Noah, Conny, Oliver, Sam, River, Axel, Alex, Jay, and Nyx.

Toby

In earlier parts of the story, Toby was a fearful and frail boy that was kicked out of the safe house he was raised in and was now on the verge of a breakdown. You were the first person Toby ran into that didn't immediately threaten him or aim a weapon at him, causing him to immediately default to hiding behind you when the dead came around the corner. He refused to leave your side afterwards.

As time went on Toby began to adapt to the world around him, his once innocent smile turned into nothing but a mask he now uses to hide his obsession for you, the person he considers to be the most humane person left alive. Toby is the yandere of the story, the man who would burn with a smile if it meant you would be happy.

Jack

Once a boy who stole for food and bribed for shelter, Jack was a regular thief in his earlier days. That all changed when a tip about a valuable item turned out to be a way to catch Jack and put him behind the bars of the district. Jack went on the run, going to the outskirts of city ruins of where humanity once thrived. He meets you and Toby when he ends up getting stuck between what he would call "a zombie and a hard place".

Jack never loses his mischievous side, though you get to see a kinder version of him when it's just you and him alone. He cares about you and the group you end up building, even if it doesn't feel like he does at times. He cares, he'll never let something happen to any of you...even if that means he'll have to make sacrifices down the road.

Noah

Noah is a rare case in this world. A type of mutation in the virus that caused the dead to rise. A mutated version of the virus is often called a "Clawed". Noah is a Clawed, but not your average one. Being somewhat resistant to the virus, Noah still has full control over his conscious self. His body may look wrong and one of his eyes may have the glazed color of death but Noah is still himself on the inside.

You meet Noah when he rescues you from a group of infected that meant to make you their next meal. He was intrigued at your determination to find your group and warn them of the infected that roamed the building, so he followed you. He never stopped following you, even when Jack thought he was just a normal Clawed and tried to shoot him. He's a normal boy on the inside that just so happens to look like a horrifying nightmare creature on the outside. There are bright sides and dark sides to being infected...the strange purring that he does when he's happy is definitely a bright side to some people.

Conny

A man hiding secrets behind a worn mask, that's the best way to describe Conny. He claimed to live in a motel your group was staying at, though the motel was worn and had no signs of any life being there for years. Conny constantly jokes and acts as if there isn't a chance of death being behind every corner. You may think this is just a character who isn't all too smart, but something more sinister lays under Conny's grins. What that something is, nobody can tell you...but he never seems to flinch when someone turns up dead, nor when something shocking or traumatic happens to somebody in the group. He seems to know almost everything that will happen. Odd, right?

: )

Oliver

Oliver was raised as a soldier for a group of survivors living in something called a "district". His home was the Sanctum district. Oliver's job was to go out and recruit "unkept" survivors from the ruins of New York in the hopes of the district being able to force them into working somewhere in the district to keep it running. Oliver lived as the equivalent of an enslaved slaver since he turned nine, never knowing it was a twisted job for a child to be given because he lived in a family of people who had the same job.

The district fell eventually, causing a massive death toll that included Ren, the older brother of Oliver who raised him and protected him in the ruins. The fall of the Sanctum district left Oliver and a friend of his to leave with the most competent person to the ruins. That person just so happened to be Toby, who had been captured by none other than Oliver and Ren. Toby, not holding a grudge on Oliver due to his nature still being kind at that point in time, brought the two district boys to you.

Sam

Sam was the friend of Oliver's from the Sanctum District. Ever since he was young Sam had been picked on due to his anxious mind and fears that everybody thought were idiotic. Sam had Kinemortophobia, the phobia of zombies, which caused him an extremely stressful life and made the people of the district look down on him.

The district falling was one of the most terrifying things to ever happen to poor Sam. He left with Oliver, a friend he had been close with since childhood. Seeing how Toby, an anxious boy with little survival skills, was alive and well thanks to you made him view you as a means to survive in the ruins. Sam became dependent on you and Oliver, seeking the two of you out as a way to cope with the anxiety he felt just by living in the ruins.

River

River is the cocky self-reliant person in the group. Having been the middle child from a family with four other siblings (seven if you count the twins as different people), River knew their way around getting groups to stop and go on a dime. They often act like they don't care if you live or die, though seeing the silent horror on their face when they see you try to fight a Clawed alone says everything you need to know. If you had to label River's love style, tsundere is the way to go.

River holds a complex emotional state, constantly shifting between showing large, often negative emotions. If they aren't yelling at someone in Irish Gaelic about something or taking frustration out on the dead they're more often than not shoving emotions they don't know how to deal with deep inside their mind until they turn up as frustration. Being someone River holds dear to their heart means that you're someone they're terrified of. They can't live without you in a world where you could die at any given moment, of course that terrifies them.

Axel

Being the smaller and weaker twin brother, Axel had been the target for any harm that people wanted to place on his aggressive twin, Alex. Axel had been born with multiple types of vitamin deficiencies and was considered a burden on the group he was born into. Axel's parents, not wanting to be left alone in the ruins, abandoned Axel when he was only six. Alex refused to leave him, making the parents leave both children, albeit unwillingly when it came to Alex.

Axel had a terrible life. Alex refused to let the two of them settle and live peacefully, making Axel begin to have trust issues and panic attacks when it came to even speaking to strangers. Alex fed into it for years. Axel met you in a strange way...meaning he wanted to speak to you but was so afraid of messing up that he basically kidnapped you while you were sleeping. Axel ended up getting more than a few harsh words from the people in your group when they finally caught him. Axel joined the group, much to Toby and Noah's dismay, and happily talks about textbooks he's read in the hopes of you gaining an interest in his knowledge...or just him in general. He may not have Oliver's muscles, nor Conny's sense of humor...but he'll teach you anything you want if it means you'll sit next to him give him that smile of yours that makes him feel lightheaded.

Alex

18+, do not read unless you are 18 or over!

A man who doesn't care about anything but his own desires, Alex is the sadistic and cold twin brother of Axel. He left his home to find his brother in the woods after watching his parents abandon him. After that, Alex refused to leave his brother's side. It started out as sweet, but soon the care Alex had for Axel turned into nothing you could call kind. Alex refused to let Axel make friends. At one point when Axel put his foot down, Alex decided to leave him in the ruins. He didn't actually leave him, but instead stalked him and watched his twin panic for an entire day. He only stepped in when Axel ended up getting beaten to near-death by a scavenger.

Alex instilled a fear of being alone in his brother and he doesn't take kindly to strangers who try to take his brother away. You, being the closest thing to a leader in the group Axel is now part of, have become the center of Alex's anger. That anger can come out in a few different ways. Fist fights that end in bruises, screaming matches that end in one of you storming away, angry fucking that ends with marks that are hard to lie about, it's up to you really. How badly do you want to provoke this man?

Jay

Jay was raised mainly in Annecy, France. When she turned fourteen her mothers set out to travel to America via boat. She arrived and lived happily in Boston with her mothers for years to come. One day, years after their arrival to America, Jay and her family got separated during their travel to a rumored infection-free town in Colorado. Jay was left alone in Indiana with no way home and no way to find her parents.

She adventured for months, eventually ending up in Missouri and holding up in an old mall. She spent her time scaring scavengers out and luring the dead away, constantly hoping deep down that her parents may end up wandering through the abandoned halls she took to guarding. Jay is one of the more calm and patient of the group, having been raised with patience as a primary rule. Her loyalty is something she prides herself on. If you can catch her and guide her out of the mall and into your group, she will never abandon you.

Nyx

(MASSIVE SPOILERS FOR ANYONE READING MY BOOK)

A child at heart, Nyx is a sweet and foolhardy young man who holds having fun as the primary rule. To him, survival is only worth it if you enjoy living. This boy may act like he's care-free, but he holds a secret from you. Years ago, back when he was too small to properly handle a gun, he knew you better than anyone did. You both ran in the same group for a short time when you two were around five or so. He remembers you fondly, though he remembers the dread of not finding you when the group went to hell more than the other memories of you.

He didn't recognize you for weeks after meeting you, but once he did he felt like he was going to throw up from excitement. He decided to keep his knowledge of your past a secret, less you end up not wanting him around. He doesn't know where you went the day the group went to hell, which makes him worry that you don't want that part of your life around anymore. Here he is, a smitten man-child keeping the biggest secret he has from someone he's adored since he was small.

#x reader #zombie apocalypse #scent of the dead #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere male #yandere female #yandere scenarios

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all54321 · 1 year

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Superhero AU

Scar is a part of a hero organization which only really cares about appearances and stopping villains, not civilians as individuals. Scar is an exemption to that, but is powerless against the higher ups. The people in charge hold all the other heroes in chains, basically. They’re in control of what all the heroes do. The perks of being a hero are really good though. Going against them is really bad, they will have no issue branding a disobedient hero a villain and slandering them to the highest degree. Scar only stays with them because of their threats and because he wants to help people still and can do it easiest with the hero organization as opposed to being their enemy.

Grian is one of the few people who know Scar’s identity, and one of the even fewer who knows that the hero organization isn’t what it seems. He keeps trying to get Scar to leave the organization to be a hero on his own, even if Scar being with the heroes easily supports them. He isn’t aware of just how bad they can be and just how much they would do against Scar if he defects. He also wants to see the whole organization to be completely destroy and is annoyed that he’s too powerless to do anything about it.

That is until Grian gets captured by one of the biggest villain groups, the Watchers. Him and a bunch of others get kidnapped and used as lab rats to see if someone can be artificially given powers. The experiments take heavy tolls on the person if it fails, which regularly happens. In the end, the tolls taken is too much and the person dies, the Watchers then cremate them and destroy all evidence of that person ever being there.

Soon after the last person besides Grian dies, he manages to get strong enough/enough powers to break free of the restraints put on him and escapes. He then finds every loved one of those he met there to share the bad news and offer to help them in any way to his ability. Grian then takes on the identity of Xelqua and becomes a vigilante, taking up residence in the lower class district/city outskirts and sticking around there. They all see him as a true hero, since they’re the most shafted by the hero organization.

Upon the higher ups hearing about Xelqua, they brand him as a villain due to his strength and how he acts on his own. Grian, now with the powers to do so, plans on how to take down the hero organization.

Grian refuses to reveal himself to Scar (or his family) out of fear of how they’d see him. He thinks he’s too different of a person after what the Watchers did to him to be the same Grian they cared about. He doesn’t want to face their rejection. Scar immediately disproves those fears the moment he learns that Xelqua is Grian.

#all speaks #superhero au #au info

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pearblossommina · 2 years

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you don't see stars in the day sky (wait till night)

ACOTAR Secret Santa 2022 gift exchange, for @nova-stardragon, @acotargiftexchange

Rating: Explicit (not immediately, but later chapters will contain smut - so E for the entire fic)

Read on AO3

Ch 1: The first day, and the gift of a siphon

Azriel

At first - he didn’t even understand what was happening. Not right away. Not even after his shadows crawled back to him, unsettled. He was only half listening to their vague whispers, ignoring them for the most part, maybe because he didn’t want to believe what they were telling him - when he heard the voice of his High Lord, echoing in his mind before going abruptly silent.

I’m sorry.

An immediate feeling of dread welled up inside of him - he could do nothing to stop it. He reached out with his mind, trying to find Rhysand, trying to learn clarification. It was like screaming into the void. He received no answer, only dead air. He didn’t even have any way of knowing if Rhys was hearing his thoughts.

His shadows swirled around his neck, their whispered chorus growing louder, harder to ignore.

He is staying under the mountain.

Azriel took flight at once. He found the closest border of Velaris - and discovered the wards were up - strong and pulsing with the Night Lord’s power. They felt like a heavy, invisible iron curtain caging him inside. More thorough than he had ever felt them before.

“What have you done,” he said, as horrifying understanding dawned on him.

He swept along the outskirts of the city, searching fruitlessly for an exit. It didn’t take long to discover that there was none. He prodded at the barrier with his mind, with all his magic - trying to find the door, or else make one. He knew he wouldn’t find one. He knew his feeble Illyrian magic was no match for High Lord Rhysand’s. The truth, Azriel had to accept, was that he was totally enclosed. Velaris was a gilded cage with wrought iron bars - encased in diamond for good measure.

Trapped.

In a panic, he searched for his friends, his shadows rapidly spilling forth, slipping away to all their familiar haunts, returning to him. He found out where Mor was, first. She was near. He went to her - his heart pounding in his chest, his mind reeling. Her gentle eyes found his, welling up in sorrow. “Rhys-”

“I know.”

“He’s not coming back, is he?”

“No.”

“And we can’t go after him, can we?”

“It seems we’re locked in.”

She wiped at her eyes, scrutinizing his face with an expression of fear and open agony. “How could he do this to us?”

Az wanted to go to her, to wrap his arms around her, to hold her tight and brush away those tears. He did it to protect you, he wanted to say. To protect all of us.

But he held his tongue and said nothing.

He knew, deep down, it must be the case. It was what he would have done, if he were in Rhysand’s shoes. A last ditch effort to save all of his court from Amarantha’s reach, to protect them, to keep them safe. Yet, even though Velaris was his home - the reality that he now couldn’t leave - it felt the same as being on the inside of a locked cell.

He wanted to scream.

It was unclear what Rhys was thinking, slamming the doors on Velaris, leaving them cut off from the world like this with no explanation. A mind-uttered apology, and then silence. He didn’t even know if he was alive or dead. He had never felt more angry, more betrayed. He was nothing, now. A spy master with no spies. A dedicated servant to the house of the High Lord, with no High Lord to serve. With Amren as his second - was Azriel now expected to serve her?

He gripped Mor hard on the hand, thankful at least, that she was here. She was safe. He wanted to tell her that he would do whatever it took to find a way to bring Rhys home. But he didn’t want to make a promise he couldn’t keep.

He had to face the reality, that Amarantha’s rule was absolute. She had summoned all of the High Lords to the court beneath the mountain. Az had known that something, potentially, could go down tonight. He’d collected the intel himself, as the Spymaster for the Night Court. And he had tried to warn Rhysand to be on his guard. Maybe he hadn’t said enough. He supposed it didn’t matter now. Nuala and Cerridwen were with him. If he was dead, they probably were too.

He did his best not to mourn them - there was no way of knowing what, exactly, had happened. Only that Rhys had been so desperate he had blasted out an apology message - and slammed the doors on them so no one could get in or out. Like they were small and pitiful and defenseless. What else could he assume, except that Amarantha had managed to do the unthinkable? Had she finally taken the crown? Had she slaughtered all of the High Lords? Was Velaris the last strong hold against her cruelty?

Was he supposed to be happy about his fate in all of this?

Perhaps Rhysand really was dead. Perhaps that was the reason Az could no longer reach him - could no longer hear his voice in his mind. His heart clenched in his throat. What would he do if he lost Rhys? What about Cas? Was he safe? Was he within the city?

His felt his shadows fluttering around his feet. They knew what he wanted, stealing away to start the renewed search.

“Cassian -”

“He was with Rhys - I - I don’t know if he made it back in time. I can’t remember if I saw him before we heard....” Mor trailed off, fear widening her eyes, and Azriel had to look away.

Cas, he thought, desperation taking hold, as he took flight again, racing to catch up with his shadows.

He found himself drawn to the House of Wind.

Cassian was there, high above Velaris, standing on the roof. He had his palms pressed against the invisible barrier of the wards, and light was spilling forth from his siphons, illuminating the night around him in a spectacular show of power.

Too much power.

“Cas!”

If he kept this up, Azriel feared the worst. He was already draining his siphons. Draining his magic. Giving everything, to accomplish nothing.

“Cas, you have to stop!”

Cassian flicked Azriel a glare over his shoulder. “I’m about to break through!”

“You’re about to crack your siphons, you idiot!”

“Mind your own business -” he grunted, and almost at once, those siphons stuttered, the glow of red flaring into violent looking sparks that darted along the invisible nothingness before dissipating into the wards. A heartbeat later, there was a terrible crack like thunder, and the siphons on his wrist braces split apart with an ugly jolt.

Azriel felt the pulse of power shooting off of Cassian, as every part of his magic flowed along his body - needing to find a new outlet through the siphons that remained. The surge was frightening, a palpable sensation that left Azriel swaying on his feet.��

“Cassian, please stop!” He shouted. “Look what you’re doing to yourself!”

Cassian choked back a sob, pulling back on his power. He stood silently for a moment, and then began to punch the air with his fists, as if that would do anything at all. Over and over again, his fists met the barrier, but there was no impact. It wasn’t a solid thing, much to Azriel’s dismay, not something they could fight. Not something they could break.

“I can’t just leave him,” he wailed, and Azriel wanted to be sick, hearing the utter despair in Cassian’s voice. “I can’t do nothing, Az!”

Azriel went to him, pulling him into his arms. Cassian was trembling, whether from overuse of magic, or the harsh reality finally settling in. He felt the wetness on his face, as he buried it into Azriel’s shoulder, letting himself weep. Azriel kept a damper on his own emotions, trying to be the strength that Cassian needed, trying not to let himself sink into the very despair that was threatening to overtake him. He let Cassian cry until he was spent, holding onto him with all of his might, and then pressed a kiss into the top of his hair.

“I won’t lose two brothers in one day,” he said softly, trying to soothe him.

He glanced down at his own wrist siphon, deciding to pry the blue stone loose from its setting. It was uncomfortable to wear fewer than the seven siphons he was used to - but he knew Cassian was probably suffering. Losing more than one was painful. He wanted to make sure he was alright.

They could both make do with six.

He took Cassian’s hand, shaking the broken bits of the red stone out of the cuff, before turning his wrist over. He pressed his own siphon into the empty slot. It gleamed, giving off a vague violet hue, before shining the standard, deep blue tone as the power in Cassian’s body found its equilibrium.

“We haven’t lost him,” Cas muttered, flexing his wrist in discomfort. “He’s still - he has to be -”

Alive, Az wanted to say. But he couldn’t bring himself to finish Cassian’s sentence. They didn’t have any way of knowing.

The rage was absolutely monstrous inside of him. He wanted to kill that woman with his bare hands. He wanted to bring his brother back. He wanted to find Rhysand and wring his skinny neck for putting them all through this - for making him even consider the possibility - the reality - that they might never see him again. He wanted to break free as much as Cassian, but he knew it was no use.

He did admire Cassian’s sheer determination. But Azriel had known, from the moment he felt those wards, that Rhysand hadn’t been sloppy about this. They were here, now. Velaris was a strong hold, and all of its inhabitants, whether they knew it or not, were going to remain here. Indefinitely.

They were trapped.

But at least - at the very least - they still had each other.

***

Inside the House of Wind, Azriel followed Cassian.

The mood had evolved into something much more somber now. His denial and anger were fading, leaving behind nothing but an all encompassing exhaustion - coupled with a strong urge to stay by Cassian’s side.

They sat by the fire, staring into the flames. A mulled wine was provided by the house, and Azriel sipped at it, but he took no pleasure from doing so. He could barely even taste it.

Neither of them said anything.

There was nothing to say.

They just waited - watching the fire burn low in its hearth. And eventually, when Cassian rose to go to bed, Azriel went with him.

“You don’t have to follow me,” said Cas.

Azriel said nothing.

“I’ll be alright, Az. I’m not going to try and leave again.”

Cas stopped at his room, one hand resting on the doorknob. He lifted it away, showing Az the blue siphon on his wristguard.

“And - I wanted to tell you - thanks. For this.”

“It’s yours for as long as you need it,” said Az. “Just… promise me you’ll think, next time, before you go and do something so reckless.”

Cassian blew out a huff of air through his nostrils. “That was never my strong suit and you know it.”

For the first time all day, Azriel wanted to laugh. He felt his heart throb with affection for Cas, that he could say something so normal at a time like this. He tried to let himself, but the only thing he mustered was a wan smile.

Cassian returned his smile warmly. Then he bade Azriel good night and slipped through the door to his room, shutting it with a firm finality that made Azriel question whether Cassian was secretly angry with him.

He tried to shrug it off. It had been a long day. He headed upstairs for his own bed, where he lay awake for the next several hours, sleep unable to claim him.

***

Cassian

Cassian tossed and turned in the blankets, shifting position every few moments, just trying to get comfortable. His bed was too vast - too empty tonight. And internally, he was a swirling mess of emotions, of hate turned in at himself, hate turned outward at Rhysand, worry and stress over what was to come.

And Azriel.

For some reason, he couldn’t stop thinking about Azriel.

Just the sight of that damned siphon on his wrist gave him a curious, warm sensation in the pit of his stomach. He didn’t want to dwell on it too much. It probably didn’t mean anything, anyway. Even if his heart pounded when he thought about the way Azriel had come for him, swooping in to save him from blowing through every single siphon he had left.

Cassian would have done the same thing, if their positions were reversed. It probably wasn’t anything more than an instinct. Only Azriel wasn’t the one letting his siphons split in half like a too-eager adolescent, unable to control the fluctuations of magic in his own body.

He sighed, rolling onto his back, kicking and splaying his legs to free them from being tucked inside the blankets. Whether it was instinct or generosity, it meant a lot. That Azriel had been there. That Azriel had cared.

He felt like such a fool, for not seeing through Rhysand’s ruse. When Amarantha called all of the High Lords and their courtiers under the mountain, he had gone with, intending to stay beside Rhys, to serve, to protect. Cassian found court politics boring, and never cared about attending those snobbish functions held by the other High Lords.

But he shouldn’t have listened, when Rhys had sent him home to Velaris after they’d arrived. He should have realized the self-sacrificing asshole was about to pull something like this.

That was the part that stung, most of all.

Cas knew Rhys better than almost anyone, and he still hadn’t understood the full measure of his intentions until after he had landed on the House of Wind, reported back, and heard Rhys utter “Stay where you are.” In his mind.

Of course he had questioned it. But he wasn’t about to disobey a direct command like that - not when he had been so sure Rhys knew what he was doing.

When the wards came down he realized his mistake. He was a useless, big-headed oaf, who couldn’t even be there for his brother when he should have been.

Not only had he lost Rhys because of his own stupidity - he had also taken a siphon from Az. He didn’t know when he’d be able to get out of Velaris to have another one forged at the Illyrian camps. Or, he supposed, irritated with himself, three new ones. He needed to replace his own and return the borrowed one as soon as possible.

He looked down again at the brilliant blue stone. It gleamed in the low light. Somehow, it made him feel less alone.

Yes.

That must be it.

It wasn’t that he was feeling anything… romantic… towards Azriel - they were just friends, after all. He was just experiencing heightened emotions tonight.

Things would be better in the morning.

Maybe when he woke up, Rhys would already be home. He would smile his cunning smile and tell them about all of his adventures under the mountain. He couldn’t be held by the likes of Amarantha. He was too strong. He’d be back, soon, and Cassian could pummel him into the earth for making them all worry.

He rolled onto his stomach, and delivered a few punches to the surface of his pillow, imagining Rhysand’s snarky face instead of the fluff and feathers.

After he was satisfied, he flumped down into the mattress again, laying with his head on his arm. The one with the borrowed siphon. He let the side of his face come to rest against the cool blue stone, and tried with all his might to fall asleep.

It was a long time before he gave up on the effort.

***

Sometime after midnight, he rose from bed to follow his whims.

He wandered alone through the house until he found himself sneaking into Rhysand’s bedroom. He was hoping he might uncover some clue, some left behind token that might be their key out of this place. He couldn’t believe that Rhys would just leave them without some kind of plan. The room was messy, disorganized, with little touches of Rhys everywhere, as though he had just stepped out.

He began with the desk in the corner of the room. Rustling through papers, opening the drawers, pulling out assorted dangerous and mundane items. An ink pot and quill, a set of handsome daggers, a bottle containing some sort of luminescent potion, several jewels, drugs, all of it little of any value.

There was, however, one rolled up square of parchment that caught his eye. He unfurled it and stretched it across the desk.

It was a map.

He let his curiosity get the better of him, eyes glazing over as he studied the page.

He was startled out of his trance when he heard the sound of shuffling footsteps, turning to find Az looming in the doorway.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m - ” Cas felt impossibly guilty, being discovered like this. He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t even really have an explanation.

“Snooping,” said Az, stepping into the room. He looked down at the map in sorrow. “What are you doing with this? I thought you promised you weren’t going to try and leave again.”

Cassian bristled.

“Were you spying on me?”

Azriel rolled his eyes. “Believe it or not, I have bigger things to worry about than whatever you’re up to.”

“Like what?”

His mouth pressed into a thin line. “It’s late, Cas. We should both be in bed. I don’t think studying the sub-prefectures of Velaris is going to get you any closer to rescuing Rhys.”

“I couldn’t sleep.”

“Me neither.”

Azriel moved to Rhys’s bed, sighing as he sat down with his arms crossed. His wings drooped. He looked up at Cas sadly. “I already miss him.”

“Me too. I miss him so much.”

Cassian went to join Azriel, relieved that he wasn’t alone. That they were together. He leaned against him, seeking comfort and reassurance. Azriel immediately put one of his arms around Cassian’s shoulders, drawing him tightly against him.

They stayed like that for a few minutes, neither one of them breaking the silence. The night was dark, and Cassian felt reckless. He wanted to tell Azriel all of his secrets, every insecurity burning inside of him. “I let him down,” he said, before he could stop himself.

Azriel looked at him, startled. “Cas. If you’re going to blame yourself, you might as well blame me.”

“What? No - Az - how could I blame you? You weren’t even there.”

“It was my job to inform him. I could have warned him. I could have said - something.”

“That’s ridiculous. Az, you can’t have your eyes everywhere at once.”

“I can’t have my eyes anywhere, now. Unless he wants a detailed report of the inner workings of Velaris.”

Cassian couldn’t deny that it was true. He smiled sadly. “Maybe that’s what we should do, then.”

“What’s that?”

“You know. Just… treat this like a normal mission for the Night Court. Maybe it’s what he would have wanted.”

Azriel gave a lengthy sigh, and when he spoke, it was with great effort, as though every word caught somewhere in his throat. “I don’t want… to act like this is all normal. I’m so mad at him. And I’m so afraid that I’m never going to get the chance to tell him how much I hate him for locking me up like this.”

“You’re not locked up," he said gently. “This is our home.”

"It’s as good as being in a cell, Cas.”

He took his arm away, and Cassian immediately missed the warmth of it around his shoulders. He felt himself leaning closer to Azriel when he noticed that his eyes were shining with unshed tears.

“Oh, Az,” he said, throwing both arms around him, “Come here.”

Azriel came to him readily, his arms going around Cassian’s waist.

They held onto each other for a long time. It was probably the longest hug Cassian could ever remember receiving - with the exception of the hugs he had been given as a boy. Back then, he had been stubborn, not admitting that the only thing he wanted was a family. Back then, he had chosen Az and Rhys to be his family. And he was choosing Az now.

He tucked his wings around him, one hand automatically tracing its way around the back of his head, pulling him down to nestle against his shoulder. He knew Azriel was seldom able to express his emotions, but he had done this for Cas when he had needed to cry, earlier.

He started to stroke Azriel’s hair. “You can’t keep it all bottled up inside,” he insisted. “You need to let it out. It’s alright. Just cry.”

Az let out a shaky breath, holding onto Cas tighter. It was only a matter of minutes before his eyes were streaming, and he pressed his face unabashedly against the skin of Cassian’s neck. He could feel the slight brush of the hair on his head against his skin. In the comfort of Cassian’s arms, Azriel opened up.

His initial sobs were low, lingering things. Cassian began to rock with him, letting the sound of his voice wash over him as his cries of grief began to grow louder, more guttural, building and building until it was almost too much - real and raw and emotional. Once the flood gates were open, Cassian couldn’t stop himself from crying right alongside Azriel.

It was a violently intense crying session, a physical force of sorrow and grief, forging a shared energy, a bond between them that felt tangible and real. The salt from their tears was the catalyst, the sound of their shared cries echoed through the room, a heartfelt confession for all the fear and pain that neither of them could yet put into words.

They wept while grabbing onto each other, hands in each others hair. Fingers reaching, gripping for anything they could find, clenching and unclenching on the fabric of their shirts, the skin and muscles underneath, the sensitive membrane of wings.

Crying together this way. It felt like the most deeply intimate thing Cassian had ever experienced. Deeper than making love.

To share something like this with him… what did it mean? Were they each just letting go - or was there something more behind it? Cassian didn’t know. All he knew was that he needed Azriel, needed to feel like life still had meaning.

But he didn’t know how to tell him, or if he even should. He finally drew back, and saw the flushed look on Azriel’s face, the way the lashes below his eyes still had moisture clinging to them. They stared at each other in silence.

“Are you tired?” Cassian asked, after they had both calmed down somewhat, their breathing returning to normal.

“Extremely.” Azriel replied.

“I am too.” Cassian went on. “I want to stay together. What if we slept in here tonight?”

“Here?” Azriel looked tearfully down at Rhysand’s bed. “You and me? Wallowing in this bed without him?”

“Try not to think of it that way.” He pulled back the sheets, Rhys’s familiar scent still clinging to them. “Try to think about how we’ll all be together again soon.”

Aziel clambered under the blankets. Cassian huddled next to him. As he pulled the blankets up around his chest, a fresh swirl of his scent filled the air, and he swore he could feel the weight of Rhys beside them in the bed, like he was right there.

Cassian took one of Azriel’s hands in his, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Need you, Az,” he murmured, feeling his heart rising into his throat.

Azriel rolled up onto one hip, facing Cassian. “I’m right here.”

Cassian wanted to kiss him badly. He closed his eyes, swallowing down the urge. “I know,” he said, then drew his hand out of Azriel’s. “Good night.”

He sank down into the blankets, waiting until the easy rhythm of Azriel’s breathing beside him indicated that he had fallen asleep.

And Cassian, surrounded by the scent of both of his brothers, was finally able to surrender to sleep himself.

***

Azriel

When morning came, he found himself tangled up with Cassian, who had sprawled out in sleep to claim most of the bed. They had gravitated towards one another in the night. It felt nice, to wake up so relaxed, and to feel so close to someone. Cassian had his legs tucked up against the back of Azriel’s thighs, and one arm was holding him, slung around his waist. Azriel wanted to fall back asleep, because he was so impossibly warm and snuggly. It was just what he had needed last night. Maybe it was what Cassian had needed, too.

“Need you, Az.”

When he had said that, there was no hint of shame or hesitation in his voice. But what did it mean?

Was it he, Azriel, specifically, that Cassian needed - or was he just the nearest warm body - something convenient to take his mind off of the situation?

Azriel had always thought of Cassian as a friend. He cherished his friendship now more than ever. It would only complicate things if they entered into some kind of sexual relationship - and Azriel could never use Cassian that way. Even if part of him had wanted to - when they had held each other and wept the night before. Cassian had been so open, so passionate, that Azriel had been tempted to drop down every wall and surrender to a night of meaningless sex just to feel something pleasurable. Maybe it was the ghostlike presence of Rhys that had kept him from doing so.

In any case.

That was last night. This was now. He shifted in the bed, twisting slightly to move away from Cassian, ducking out from underneath his arm, which was heavy with sleep. He did his best to tuck the blankets back around him, and let him continue sleeping.

He only stirred when Azriel rose fully from the bed, his weight jostling the mattress. His eyes fluttered open, and he smiled dreamily when he caught sight of Azriel. “Oh,” he said, his voice morning soft and melting Azriel’s heart. "Good morning.”

It wasn’t hard for him to smile back. “Good morning.”

He rolled onto his back, his arms stretching, reaching for a spare pillow, pulling it against him to hug tightly. Azriel wondered if he had stayed - would he be the one being cradled against Cassian’s chest?

Something ached inside of him as he stood there, watching Cas doze off again into sleep, and wishing.

#acotar gift exchange 2022 #secret santa reveal!#cazriel #fanfic #ao3

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ratgingi · 1 year

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i need to stop posting all my character facts here and actually keep them on a file on my laptop or something

anyway older jack dlc crew thoughts under cut

adelaide, charlie, and roe (according to nobody but himself since he doesnt have any family that anybody can find) were all born and raised in the dialtown area

oakey moved there with his family in his teen years and went to the same highschool as addy and charlie, but was not ever really part of their friend group, he interacted with them a couple times but ultimately stayed strangers

when they got a little older, addy left town to be with her (now ex) husband, and oakey and his late wife moved back to where he was originally from to be closer to kara

charlie never left, hes always been there, and sometime during those two leaving was when he was working on the morgue - he didnt build the place from scratch but he got ownership of an otherwise abandoned building on the outskirts and fixed it up himself

lenora (aka cinder but im gonna be calling her by her first name from now on) moved to dialtown when she was 20, and spent a good few years building her home from scratch by herself, and once that was finished she bought a place in town which she renovated and turned into her flower shop

roe's home is an older house which seems to have been there quite some time, but no one ever really recalls having seen it despite living there as long as some people have. hes similar, in that he claims to have been born and raised there but no one ever remembers seeing him around town and when talking to him most people believe he moved there recently, the only sort of proof of him having been there an extended amount of time beint that hes been the sole worker at/caretaker of the library for a number of years

oakey moved back to dialtown a couple years before kara moved in to be with him, after the passing of his wife since staying at the house they shared was a bit too painful for him, and the place he lives currently was the one his family first moved into

murr on the other hand claims to have moved to the town rather recently, but people remember seeing him around a lot longer than he says hes been there, despite most evidence pointing towards otherwise

murr lives in a seperate apartment building in the downtown area where none of the other jack dlc characters are at

adelaide also moved back into her familys old home when she returned to town with margo after the divorce

#dialogue #jack dlc #dlc wiki

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wil-is-done · 2 years

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When You’re A Mystery Kid - Chapter 42: Beneath the Surface

Summary: A seemingly normal town with secrets hidden underneath? That sounds familiar.

Word Count: 4.110

IMPORTANT NOTE: This is a repost.

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters featured here.

The village of Muchenik, population: 261. A small village near the northern border of the Republic of Russia, only a few miles from the coast of the Siberian Sea. A mining village that’s been hanging on by a thread, thanks to an increasingly-depleted steel mine on the village’s outskirts. Not the record holder for the coldest place on Earth, but it damn well should be, in Dipper’s shivering, trembling opinion.

Really, any place where a double layer of thick jackets wasn’t enough to keep warm should be considered uninhabitable for humans.

But, the worst part of this was the fact that Lili was the only one in the team that shared his misery. Everyone else went about their business without a bother, traipsing down the path leading to the village. Even Mabel wasn’t bothered, and he knew for a fact that she hated the cold.

“Come on, Dipper! It’ll only get colder if you stand still!” Mabel exclaimed, quite literally jumping up and down beside him.

Dipper shot her an absolutely chilling glare. “You’re abnormal,” he hissed.

Mabel simply snickered at him. “In other news, water is wet.”

Dipper rolled his eyes. “Technically, water can’t be wet because water is a liquid, and liquids are what make others things could be considered wet,” he mumbled quietly into the collar of his jacket.

“There you go, back to normal!” Mabel gave her a pat on the back that nearly toppled him over, before prancing on ahead. Dipper fumed silently, his stare burning into the back of Mabel’s sweater. At least Lili had Raz to fuss over her, make sure that she stayed comfortably warm. If only someone he held dear - like his own twin sister, for example - would do the same to him. That would be lovely.

“Hey.”

Dipper turned to his left. Norman was there, wearing a warm smile, but only in his sweater. He had taken his jacket off, the garment now in his hands

“You can borrow my jacket if you want.” Norman held out his hand, offering up the jacket. Despite the cold, Dipper felt blood quickly rushing to his cheeks.

“N-No, you- it’s okay, Norman. I’ll- I can manage,” Dipper rapidly blurted out, muffled by the collar. It was a miracle some of them actually sounded like words at all.

Norman simply shrugged, somewhat sheepishly. “It’s fine, trust me. The cold doesn’t bother me anyway.”

The look on Norman’s face, as gentle as it was, made it clear that he wasn’t taking no for an answer. Dipper relented with a small huff, holding his hand out to accept the jacket. He was expecting Norman to simply hand it over, which is why he was thrown for a loop when, instead of doing just that, Norman moved closer and draped his jacket over Dipper himself. He very nearly took a step back, but managed to steady his feet. Norman fixed him one last warm smile, which Dipper replied with a hasty smile of his own, before Norman walked on ahead to join Neil. Dipper stood frozen in place for a moment. He wrapped Norman’s jacket even closer to him. It had a surprisingly pleasant smell.

Dipper shook his head. The village. The mission. Right.

It wasn’t long before the group entered the village proper. Looking around, everything looked almost exactly like the photographs that Dipper had seen. Large, snow-coated open roads, with very modest buildings dotting the roadside. The buildings were definitely built to last, not to be pretty, which had the unfortunate side-effect of looking rather drab. Most of them seemed to be residential in nature, but Dipper did spot a store or two. The villagers looked about as modest as the houses that they live in. They milled about purposefully, though some of them still turned their heads and narrowed their eyes as the Mystery Kids passed them by, which was an understandable reaction. Dipper imagined this place wouldn’t have many visitors, and so a new face or eight would definitely attract some attention. There were children too, playing around in the snow, but only a few. Dipper could already hear their parents calling for them to come home, as the sun was about to set.

“Not too shabby for a place smack dab in the middle of a frozen wasteland, eh?” Raz asked, not to anyone in particular.

Nobody had any real response to a question like that, only offering up weak shrugs and vague noises. “Could use more red,” Lili eventually commented.

They stopped under the awning outside of a general store, as the snow somehow got even worse. Dipper peeked out from under the weathered tarp covering him to stare daggers at the darkening sky. He’d bet Delmarva wouldn’t have weather like this.

The Mystery Kids was quick to form a loose circle. Coraline was the first to speak.

“No signs of those men so far. I’m assuming everyone’s been keeping an eye out.” Coraline motioned towards everyone else in the group. “Brainstorm session, go.”

“First things first; we need intel,” Raz said. “Someone around here must’ve seen where our mystery stooges went.” He looped an arm around Lili’s shoulder. “Lili and I can ask around, see if anyone saw them and where they went. You guys can sit tight here.”

Dipper raised an eyebrow. “Just the two of you?”

Lili’s sharp gaze met Dipper’s. “If anyone else here knows how to speak Russian, feel free to join in.” She put on a sickly sweet, fake smile, just to add insult to injury. Dipper looked away and huffed, flustered. He heard Raz barely holding back a chuckle.

“Now, I know you Americans are reduced to only having two brain cells when you’re in tourist mode, but to try to not make a scene when we’re gone, alright?” Both Raz and Lili spun their heels, Raz waving back at the group as the two walked away. “Be back in ten! Fifteen, tops!”

“Hey! Speak for yourself!” Dipper called out after them. He barely got a response, aside from Lili briefly flashing him a middle finger. Dipper, again, huffed.

Norman sidled up to next to him, wearing a smile that was genuinely sweet, if a bit forced. “He’s got a point, Dipper. We kinda do have a reputation.”

Dipper’s only response was to purse his lips. He stepped back, leaned against the wall of the store, and slid down until he sat on the ground. He’s still careful not to let his backpack touch the slightly slushy snow, though. Lots of important stuff is in there. The others dispersed, though they still stuck around under the cover of the awning. For a while, the air was filled only with the whooshing of the winds and pointless small talk. Dipper would’ve honestly dozed off if it weren’t for the freezing cold.

“So,” Neil suddenly said, loud enough to catch everyone’s attention, “I know a scene isn’t allowed, but how about a small side-street show?”

Everyone’s reactions ranged from confused noises to cocked heads. Neil simply wordlessly pointed a finger towards the store window.

Following his finger, peering into the store through the window, where they could plainly see, sitting behind the counter, there were a little girl and an older woman. The little girl was watching the group, and had been doing so it seemed for quite a while now, shyly peeking her head out from behind the counter. The older woman had her eyes fixed upon the little girl, amusement clearly written across her features.

“Awww,” Mabel immediately drawled, surprising no one. She turned to face the others, wearing a smile that just screamed mischief. “Well, I’m sure a crowd of two won’t hurt anyone, right?” Before anyone could offer up a response, Mabel waved at the little girl. The little girl’s eyes went wide, before she ducked back behind the counter, while the older woman chuckled gently.

Dipper’s lips twisted. “Mabel…”

Mabel sighed. “Aw, ease up, Dipper. It’s just a little girl and her… mom?” She squinted at the pair. “Grandma? Probably grandma.”

“So what? What we’re doing here is classified as, well, classified,” Dipper shot back, frowning.

Dipper felt a hand placed on his shoulder, and he looked to see that the hand was Norman’s. He nearly jumped away just from how sudden it was. “Dipper, relax. You gotta admit, this is as harmless as it gets.”

Dipper huffed and crossed his arms. When met with Mabel’s wide, puppy eyes, he simply said, “The captain gets the final say.”

Not missing a beat, Mabel switched her target from Dipper towards Coraline. Coraline, to her credit, didn’t seem to be affected all that much. She simply pursed her lips for a moment, before replying, “Just make it quick.”

Mabel squealed in delight, pressing herself against the window. She practically pounded her fist against the window, waving at the little girl again, this time beckoning her to come closer. The little girl had been caught up in a conversation with the older woman, but they both looked up at the sound of Mabel hitting the glass. The older woman’s smile grew wider, giving the little girl a gentle nudge. The little girl visibly gulped, but she left the counter and made her way through the store, still as shy as ever.

The bell above the door jingled as the little girl exited the store. Now with her closer, she looked younger than Dipper had thought; probably only six at most. She had light blonde hair, tied into a loose, lazy bun. Her eyes were green and wide, and would probably still be just as wide even when she wasn’t facing a group of foreign strangers. Somehow, the clothes covering her looked thinner than the ensemble that Dipper had buried himself in, much to his silent dismay.

Mabel knelt down until her eyes were at the same level as the little girl’s, her lips curled into a huge, friendly grin. “Hey there, little buddy!” she greeted. “Can you speak English?”

“Little bit,” The little girl answered, with a small nod and a sheepish smile. She casted a glance upon the group as a whole. “Um, tourist?”

Mabel rubbed her chin, eyes wandering. “Well… not really. I guess this is more of a… business trip? Let’s call it a business trip.”

The little girl almost seemed to deflate. “Oh.” She stared down at her shoes. “We don’t have many visitors anyway.”

“Can’t imagine why,” Dipper grumbled, which earned him a light elbow nudge from Norman.

“Say, speaking of visitors,” Mabel leaned closer, her eyes darting left and right mischievously, “this village had any recently? Besides us?”

It was good that Mabel was looking away, so that she didn’t see Dipper rolling his eyes. “Mabel, what’re you doing?” he asked.

“Hey, it’s worth a shot, right?” Mabel barely spared him a glance, his focus still on the little girl. “So? Anything?”

The little girl, to Dipper’s surprise, nodded vigorously. Dipper leaned forward where he sat, as everyone’s interest in the girl practically skyrocketed. Coraline, Wybie, and Neil all gathered in a circle around her. The newfound attention clearly overwhelmed her, shrinking even more into herself. Mabel was quick to place a reassuring hand on her shoulder, and with a warm smile, she urged the little girl to elaborate.

Eventually, haltingly, she did.

“Um. Five men, using weird helicopter. Asked around, made people feel weird. After a while, they went into abandoned mine shaft just southwest of village. Haven’t seen them since.”

The group spent a moment staring at the girl in awe, then at each other. Dipper could almost laugh at their current situation. Talk about a stroke of luck.

“How’d you know all that?” Coraline asked, sounding genuinely awe-struck.

“Um. Got curious. Watched them. Followed them.” The little girl stared down at her feet again, her voice growing quieter with every word.

Coraline barked out a laugh. The smile on her face all but said that she’s impressed. “Nosy little snoop, aren’t cha?”

The little girl perked up at the sound of Coraline’s laugh. Still, she shyly shifted her feet from side to side. “It was fun. Village is boring, most times,” she giggled.

Coraline nodded at her. “Nice job, kid. Nice job,” she praised. All the little girl could do was blush.

“Wybes, ring the happy couple. We just found our next quest marker.” Coraline spun on her heels and wasted no time to start marching away, with Wybie scurrying after her, communicator already in hand to dial Lili and Raz. She spared a glance over her shoulder and shouted, “Alright, ya little trolls, time to move out!”

Dipper rose to his feet, brushed off the slush sticking to the back of his pants, and was about to follow after Coraline, when he paused. Mabel still knelt by the little girl, clearly reluctant to leave her. Dipper held back the urge to sigh, instead coughing to catch her attention, and motioning for her to hurry it up. Mabel shot him a pout, biting her lip rather awkwardly as she turned to face the little girl.

“Okay, we gotta bounce now, but as thanks for helping us out, I’ll let you in on a little secret.” Mabel placed a hand on the little girl’s shoulder. Her smile shifted from awkward to warm and genuine. “Your little village is way more special than you think.”

Dipper’s mouth fell open. “Mabel!”

“Dipper…” Norman’s voice came just inches away from his ear. Dipper crossed his arms and huffed, while trying his best to hide his quickly reddening cheeks.

Mabel quite literally hopped up to her full height, before dashing off to rejoin the others, waving back at the little girl all the while. The little girl, in turn, waved back at her, though not with as much enthusiasm as Mabel’s.

It wasn’t long until Mabel caught up. She still had a big, goofy grin plastered on her face. “That kid’s gonna be a great Mystery Kid someday,” she said, full of hope.

Dipper was considerate enough to not roll his eyes, but in spirit, he still did so. “I highly doubt that that will happen.” After a moment, his features softened. “But, our world is a smorgasbord of weird, so.”

By this point, Dipper knew he shouldn’t be expecting much from this village, but when he arrived at the abandoned mine shaft and found that the entrance had been reduced to little more than a hole on the ground, Dipper found himself astonished almost, of just how rundown this village is. In fact, they did a double check around the area to make sure that the hole really was the mine shaft the little girl told them about. Dipper’s request for a triple check was mostly ignored. Wybie pulled out a few flashlights and handed them around. The marching order was settled; Coraline and Raz at the front, Wybie and Lili bringing up the rear, and the rest in the middle. After that, nothing left to do except to go down the rabbit hole.

Thankfully, the tunnel opened up rather quickly. It was just the entrance that had collapsed, with the rest of the shaft in relatively better condition. Relatively, being the key term. It was still only wide enough to allow one person at a time, though. So, one by one, they trekked deeper down the tunnel.

“So, that little girl just happened to be tailing our mystery stooges, and saw them going down this mine shaft?” Raz asked, his voice echoing.

“Yea, that’s exactly what I just told you,” Mabel replied, careful to keep her voice down. “What’re the odds, am I right?”

“Exactly.” Lili practically hissed out her response. Ever since finding out they got this lead from a random girl, a frown had etched itself onto her brows. “You don’t find that suspicious at all?”

“I find that adorable and awesome.”

“You weren’t there, Lili,” Coraline chimed in. “That girl’s clean, trust me. My gut says so.” She shot a glance over her shoulder. “You should try giving yours a listen sometimes.”

Lili scoffed. “I can read minds. I don’t need guts.”

“Then how would you eat?”

“Neil, please, we’ve got enough smartasses on this charade.”

The others continued their banter for some time, but Dipper paid them no mind. Incantations and their required motions played themselves over and over again in his head. Not that he needed it, since he’s far past memorized them, but a little more practice wouldn’t hurt. This might not be Delmarva, but this was still a chance to really test out the spells that he’d been working on. Whether it’s an alien or an agent of a shadowy corporation, a target’s still a target.

Slowly, carefully, they spent the next five minutes working their way down the shaft. The tunnel had become pitch black by this point, with no light coming from outside. If it weren’t for the flashlights, the group would be left stumbling around in the dark. Strangely, the air seemed to grow warmer the deeper they went. Dipper even had to shed off Norman’s jacket and hand it back to him, just from how warm it got.

Eventually, they came upon a three-way split; a path to the right, a path to the left, and a path down the middle. The left and middle path were boarded up with rotting planks of wood, while the path to the right used to be boarded up, judging from the remains of rotting wood hanging from its sides.

“Three guesses where our mystery stooges went. First two doesn’t count.” Raz knelt down beside the broken pieces of wood, peering closer into them. “Looks pretty fresh.”

“We must be getting close.” Coraline pulled out her psi-baton from her satchel. With a click, the baton extended to its full form, the tip pulsing with power. “Eyes up. Stay sharp. Get ready for anything.”

Dipper flexed his fingers. He’s more than ready.

They continued onwards and downwards. The banter and small talk between them had ceased. The only sounds to be heard were their own breathing and their muffled boots against the stone. A good three or four minutes passed in that silence. The ground beneath them became more level, so at least they wouldn’t have to worry about slipping and falling anymore. The tension in the air was so thick Dipper could almost choke on it. He damn near jumped when Raz suddenly raised his hand.

Everyone stopped dead in their step immediately. Slowly, Raz pressed a finger against his lips.

Dipper held his breath and listened. Faintly, just over the sound of his own heartbeat, he heard the all-too familiar crinkling of a campfire.

Raz switched off his flashlight. One by one, the others followed suit. The tunnel nearly turned pitch black, and they would’ve been left scrambling in the dark, if it wasn’t for the glint of light coming from around the corner at the far end of the tunnel. Coraline signaled for the others to stay put, while she and Raz started creeping forward. Dipper watched the two advances with baited breath, a few incantations already at the tip of his tongue, just in case. Coraline and Raz reached the corner, peeked around it… and visibly relaxed.

“It’s clear, guys. Come on over,” Raz called back. Dipper breathed out in relief, and so did most of the others, and made his way to the two.

The cramped tunnel gave way to a roughly circular chamber that seemed to be the site of a simple camp. Or, at least it used to be. A slowly dying campfire occupied the center of the chamber. Four sleeping bags were abandoned in a haphazard circle around said campfire. A fold-up table was left behind against one of the walls, and from where Dipper stood; he could see scattered stacks of papers and photographs upon its surface. However, the most striking detail about the chamber, was the fact that, opposite of where the group entered, there was a gateway that couldn’t have looked more out of place.

The structure stretched up to about fifteen feet tall and twenty feet wide. Unlike the mine, which was built with the singular purpose of keeping the tunnels standing, the gateway seemed to be built with being beautiful in mind. The material it was made out of seemed to be some kind of heavy, smoothed stone, carved into a depiction of a skull with a pair of bat-like wings sprouting from either side of it. The stone gateway was left slightly opened, which made it plainly obvious where the men they were hunting had went.

The group immediately flocked towards the structure. Dipper hung behind, instead approaching the table. Dipper scanned through them, finding most of them to be photographs of Muchenik, the mine, and a fairly detailed history of both; all of which he immediately set aside. Eventually, he came upon a document with both the StrexCorp name and logo emblazoned on it. It seemed to be their mission briefing.

“Suckers never went digital,” Dipper snickered to himself.

Dipper flipped it open and glance through page after page. It mostly listed directories and protocols - a bunch of strangely specific ‘if A, then B’ scenarios - and Dipper nearly discarded it until a particular detail caught his eye. Listed under ‘Objective’, there was only a single attached image. It was blurry and grainy, but Dipper managed to make out that it was an image of a stone tablet. A collection of runes were etched upon the tablet; Dipper couldn’t make out most of them, though he managed to recognize one that dominated most of the tablet. It depicted some kind of skull, but with a peculiarly flat top, with water - or, at least, some kind of liquid - dripping down underneath it.

Dipper had never seen a rune like that before.

“This… definitely looks like some kind of paranormal site,” Neil said, breaking the awed silence the group had fallen into. “What do you guys think it is?”

“I think… it’s a tomb?” Wybie shrugged. “I dunno, I’m getting very strong tomb vibes from it. You know, with the skull and everything.”

“Any guesses to what’s in there?” Norman wondered aloud.

“Probably this.”

Everyone turned their heads to see Dipper holding up the photograph of the tablet between his fingers.

“It’s a stone tablet, with a bunch of runes on it,” Dipper explained. “I found it in their mission briefing. I think this is what they’re looking for down there. The image is a bit blurry, but I guarantee you I’ve never seen runes like these before.”

Dipper spent a while giving each of his friends a closer look of the image. Not that it helped much in recognizing anything from it.

“So, this place is a tomb.” Lili narrowed her eyes at the image. “Dedicated to burying that thing.”

Raz glanced at the dying campfire. “The fire’s still pretty fresh. If we hurry, we might be able to catch up to them. That’s still the plan, right?”

“Obviously.” Coraline twirled the baton in her hand, turning to face the stone gateway. “Flashlights off. Except for yours, Wybie. We’ll see if we can’t take ‘em by surprise.”

Dipper’s lips curled into a knowing smirk. “Permission for one more source of light, captain?”

Coraline raised an eyebrow. “What kind?” she asked.

Dipper’s smirk shifted into a full, shit-eating grin. Wordlessly, he removed his thick gloves to reveal the latex gloves that he’d been wearing under it this whole time.

“Ignos zukos surturos.”

The runes etched on the gloves burst into a bright red light, before dimming down to a gentler glow.

Coraline simply shrugged. “Yeah, sure, whatever.”

Coraline, Wybie, Raz, and Neil worked together to open up the stone gateway even further. With that done, all eight of them stood before the dark abyss before them. Only one thing left to do.

Go deeper down the rabbit hole.

The drop is coming. Can y’all feel it?

Wow, this chapter stretched far longer than I thought, particularly the village part. I originally planned to keep the village part pretty short, but then I realized that I really need the readers - aka, you guys - to care about Muchenik. Having that precocious little girl show up was probably too easy of a fix, but hey, whatever works, right? I mean, I hope it worked.

My schedule is still out of whack, and will probably stay that way for the next couple months. Sorry about this, folks. I promise I’ll get this issue sorted out as soon as I can.

#mystery kids #gravity falls #paranorman #parapines #coraline #psychonauts #dipper pines #mabel pines #norman babcock #neil downe #coraline jones #wybie lovat #razputin aquato #lili zanotto #When You're A Mystery Kid

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