#i am just so endlessly curious i simply can’t help it

[koqabear]

IM SORORU IM SORRY. but also ur welcome! i didng mean to take so long writing i actually finished reading and started writing at like 4:30pm pst which is like. What. 7 for you?? i feel like it's weird that i remember the timezone difference . i hope u dont mind im just that kind of friend i fear... anyways JF I HAD JUST COPY AND PASTED AND NOT GOTTEN DISTRACTED FOR LIKE AN HOUR... That would have been sent at a much more reasonable time 😭 i think im just like you in the sense that i absolutely have to explain myself and then i just get carried away because my notes were actually not as long as what i sent and on top of that. I excluded some other parts i thought were silly because i realized it was getting way too long 😭 i thibk it might have been longer than the one i wrote for byd?? PLEASE GO TO SLEEP THOUGH..... Unless you dont havent anything to do tomorrow and aren't tired then idk... 😇 – ml

no bc i do think it’s longer than the one for oyd?maybe? and is it greedy to say that i literally can never get enough of ur feedback? or rather feedback in general, i kid you not i go crazy for even the smallest stuff, i could write essays filled with how grateful and giddy it makes me— and with long reviews… i feel like a lost part of me is restored when i receive them, like a reward for the time i spent on it 😭

but omg when i tell you i just…. i couldn’t keep still reading ur thoughts. i was giggling and smiling so hard it was insane i had to get my glasses to read it better akdbskd 😭😭😭 sat up a bit and everything… had me kicking my feet a little i’m afraid.

i don’t have anything to do tomorrow thankfully 🔥instead i will focus on figuring out to respond to my inboxes and something small i’ve been uhh… working on… until i pass out or smth (i am also the type to remember time zone differences, don’t worry)

[climbthemountain2020]

Remains of Spring - Chapter 2

Part 2/?

I lied!

This is my last contribution for @tamlinweek, lol.

As always, biggest thanks to the loml @cauldronblssd for being the best cheerleader, beta reader, and friend ever.

This Chapter occurs sequentially after Chapter 7 of Hope of Spring.

To begin with Hope of Spring and read sequentially, start here!

Tamlin pretended to paint the silver Penny chose across the walls of the study, but really, he was spending his time stealing glances at Penny every chance he got.

He had put off cleaning this room for years, even telling the staff not to bother. When Feyre had left with Lucien, he’d torn this room to shreds and sat in the dark in anguish for days. Before things had entirely fallen apart, this room had already symbolized all they had lost–Feyre’s paintings hanging on the walls to mock him. Now, though, it was time to move on.

Penny had been wonderful, helping him clear the room out, clean it, and organize the remainders. She’d washed the walls with the staff, assisted with repairing the furniture, and then picked out this lovely, bright paint for the walls. Tamlin was so astonished at how far above and beyond she always went; it left him reeling that she was just a genuinely good person, always looking for the ways that she could help. Tamlin honestly didn’t know if anyone had ever cared for him at a base level the way that Penny did, other than perhaps his mother, or maybe Lucien, but definitely never someone who wasn’t under obligation to do so.

More than that, she made him laugh. He honestly couldn’t remember the last time he’d laughed as much as he had in the past few weeks. She was so incredibly funny–her sense of humor as grating and brash as it was humorous.

“You see, I know you’re a shapeshifter already, so I only ask because I am genuinely curious.”

“You’re a smart ass, is what you are, Penny.”

“Listen, I think that you would be a simply wonderful puppy. I could carry you around, give you treats so you learn to stop acting like such a dumbass when you’re cranky.” He glared at her, but the amusement kept him from avoiding the smile blooming on his face.

“Careful, or I am going to pick you up and start carrying you around when you tick me off.” He pointed the brush at her accusingly.

“You can’t just remove me, Tamlin. You’re stuck with me harassing you endlessly, that’s the deal. I don’t make the rules.” He sighed audibly, but his mind focused in on her word ‘endlessly’.

Gods, I hope so.

He was so dazed by her throwaway comment that he didn’t notice when he accidentally bumped into her while dipping his brush. She stumbled over her own feet and landed, back first, against the wet wall. He couldn’t stifle the laugh that bubbled up through him at the shock on her face.

Her eyes had gone wide, her nose scrunching immediately when she saw his laugh.

She’s so beautiful.

“Tamlin. Did you just get paint all over my back and hair?” Her voice was so low and calm, meant to be threatening, but it sent his stomach flipping over with the timbre of it.

“Of course not, my lady. It would appear you got paint all over your back and hair.” He couldn’t help but tease her. The banter between them had become so natural–so second nature to him–had it ever been that way with Feyre?

Feyre had never been a friend.

He couldn’t hold his laugh anymore. “Truly, silver is a wonderful color on you. Really brings out your ey–” Before he could finish, he felt the cold slop of the paint across his entire face. She’d painted him, the High Lord of Spring, who people still feared to look directly at, and she was now giggling. He felt the joy bubbling within him as he raised his hand to wipe his eyes.

If she wanted to play, he would play.

She cackled, running out of the room, but he was already on her heels. The part of him controlled by that deep, endless fae magic loved this chase, couldn’t stop his heart from nearly thundering through his chest as he chased her through the halls and to the stairs. She was amazingly fast, honestly far faster than he’d imagined, but it only made this more fun. She was sunshine personified–a bright ray of charm, and cheer, and revelry in a life that had been so sorely lacking for so long.

He was closing in, and her shrieking laugh pushed him to close the final gap as they descended the stairs, pulling her by the waist back into him in a move that felt more possessive than he intended. Suddenly, she was all he could smell, all he could see, feel, touch her, taste her, claim her.

He leaned in to whisper without thinking “caught you”, and he heard her sharp intake of breath–the racing of her pulse echoing his own. She smelled like sage and spearmint, still, but now with something so undeniably Spring…

But Tamlin scented someone else and drew up abruptly, those predatory instincts snapping him to attention as he realized they were no longer alone. He’d recognize that scent anywhere, and it made him bristle. Lucien. He was standing in the foyer, shock painting his face as he tried to collect himself, as Tamlin remembered he was covered in paint and cradling a stranger.

“Tamlin,” Lucien said cautiously, and even his voice sent waves of rage through him.

Traitor.

Tamin swiped over his face with his sleeve to remove the paint, the magic of the moment gone as every nerve ending sizzled with fury.

Had Rhysand truly no shame? Could he not simply leave him be? He’d done everything they’d pushed him to do, and now his reward was supposed to be never having to see or deal with any of them ever again.

“Why are you here, Lucien?” He hated how his voice, meant to be authoritative, still shook with the tension of betrayal. Hated that Lucien was here. Hated that he’d always known him as funny, smart, and kind, and now only knew him as his enemy.

“Rhys sent me. He got your letter.”

The letter. The fucking letter he’d all but begged her not to send.

He’d forgotten in the last few weeks. They’d been getting to know each other, becoming friends, and he’d forgotten all about that fight on the first day. He would pay for it now.

“I don’t know what you could possibly be referring to,” he gritted out between clenched teeth. “Now, I must ask that you leave my court. Certainly, you remember how.” He hated the hurt that reflected in Lucien’s eyes at the comment, hated how he could only lash out, could only hurt others.

“Feyre recognized the smell of Spring on the letter. Your scent, among others. We know it came from you, from the manor. I assume the letter came from you.” He looked at Penny, then seemed to second guess. For a second, Tamin thought he could sense anger flowing off Penny, but before it formed fully, she was stepping forward to introduce herself. She awkwardly shook his hand, and Tamlin was in awe of how she directed the conversation, making the typically unshakable Lucien seem flustered.

“Hello, Penny. It’s wonderful to make your acquaintance. How do you find yourself here in Spring?” That rage again from Penny, but Tamlin only heard the barb in the words. The accusation.

“She is my guest.” He could feel the talons threatening to burst through his skin. All that work in the last few years, and for what? He still couldn’t control himself. He wanted to scream, cry, rage. He had to remove himself from the situation before he escalated it. If they chose to continue only seeing him as the beast, then that’s what they could have. “I want you out of my house, Lucien. Now.”

Penny spoke up, but he could hardly hear it. “...so, you may tell Rhysand that Tamlin’s guest is here of her own free will, and not a hostage of any sort.”

Was she defending him?

“My lady, I did not mean to imply–” She was standing up for him. But he could already feel the change coming. His veins sizzled with the magic, tasting his beast form and starting to force the transition.

“I am here of my own accord, and here I will stay as long as Tamlin will allow me to.”

She would stay. She wanted to stay.

“You know I will have to inform Rhysand of what I’ve seen here, right?” It was the last thing he needed to hear, and the magic roared within him, barely contained. He hated himself–hated this lack of control. He would never be someone worthy of her. What had he been thinking? He would always be this monster–this horror that they all expected him to be. He had moments at best.

“I told you I didn’t want to send the letter.” He gritted out, then turned back to Lucien. “I won’t tell you again to get out.”

Then he all but ran out of the doors, the beast within him taking over and pulling him to escape into the dark forest amongst the vicious creatures where he belonged.

___________________

He’d roamed the forest for hours, running until he was breathless and exhausted. He had let all the horrid thoughts run through him over and over.

Monster. Traitor. Failure.

The thoughts pounded through his mind like a mantra as he ran and ran and ran. He could never be worthy of someone to love him, to care for him in any way. He’d driven Feyre away all on his own, failure by failure. Lucien, too. They’d both betrayed and left him, but he’d made them do it. He was every bit the monster they painted him to be. All that work and grief and processing and self-reflection meant nothing at the end of the day. He couldn’t even control his shifting, something that a youngling should have been able to do.

Panting and burned out, he shifted back to his fae form and dropped to the ground, letting his chest rise and fall on the forest floor as he watched the stars emerge.

But she said she wanted to stay.

The voice whispered from somewhere deep inside him. She had. She’d told Lucien that.

He groaned and rubbed his eyes, feeling the leftover magic swim in his veins. The Spring magic liked her, for whatever reason, humming wildly whenever she was nearby. He knew that she was powerful, but she seemed eternally unaware. His magic, however, recognized that vibration within her and always responded like it wanted to play. He didn’t know, truly, what he felt for her.

At first, it had been nice just to have someone to talk to. When she’d put him in his place without a lick of fear her first day here, he’d been entranced by her. She was so brave, so honest. He couldn’t remember the last time someone hadn’t feared him, or hated him, but just treated him as an equal. Every day, he found himself so thankful she was here, so grateful that she had stayed. And to hear her say how much she wanted to stay was like feeling the manor had spun around him.

And he’d Ieft. He sighed, the familiar disappointment and shame welling inside him.

Why was he so incapable of just doing the right things?

He had been trying to get away–trying to keep them from seeing him erupt–but in the end, he’d left her there. She was probably furious with him; who knew if she even did still want to stay? He sat up, pushing up from the ground. He needed to get home to her and apologize. She didn’t deserve this. If she wanted to stay, she deserved someone who would stay, too.

He walked as he formed a plan. He’d go back, maybe get some flowers from the garden and some sweets from the kitchen, knock on her door, and tell her how sorry he was for leaving. He’d tell her he was working on it, and that he would do better. That he wanted her here, wanted her to stay, and that he wouldn’t leave her again. He cleared the treeline, tripping over brambles and staggering towards the house as he tried to calm his nerves.

“Tamlin?” He was shocked to hear her familiar voice call out across the grass. In the twilight, he could see her running across the yard to him, and his heart leapt into his throat.

She was here. And she’d been waiting for him.

She halted just feet away from him, so close that her abrupt stop caused her scent to swell forward and cloud around him, almost bringing him to his knees.

“Penny.” Her name came out as a whisper on his breath. He took a step forward.

“Yes?”

“I am so sorry. I am so sorry I left.”

“No. Tamlin, I’m sorry. I put you in such a shit position. I should have listened to you.”

She was sorry?

“I shouldn’t have left. You had every right to write to them. You have every right to everything. I would never stop you. I would never hold you back. You know that, right?” He would never make those mistakes again. He would never force someone’s hand when it came to choices, or their affections. If it wasn’t freely given, he didn’t want it. He hated the sting of tears that burned at his eyes at the admission. He so badly wanted to reach for her, to feel her hands in his, but he had to let her be the one to choose.

“I know, Tam. I know. It’s alright.”

Tam.

She’d called him Tam, in her voice like bells. "I am here because I want to be. I am here with you.” She grasped his hands in hers, bringing him closer, allowing her to embrace him, and just in time, because he felt like he might actually fall to his knees in front of her. She’d pressed her beautiful face to his chest, his heart beating right in her ear.

Could she hear how it was racing?

“Are you hungry? I was having a picnic.”

“Sure, Penny. Show me to your picnic.” He couldn’t let go of her hand now that she’d offered it. He wanted to feel the solid warmth of it in his forever.

She led him to the garden gazebo, a little dinner set out around her with enough food for two.

Had she known he would come back? Had she just been waiting for him the way he had been waiting on her?

Tamlin worried about the dangerous hope that bloomed in his chest as he sat next to her in the gazebo under the stars, feeling that hum in his veins call out for hers like it was calling for home.

[koscheimaryas]

PAMELASBDAYBASH — a lost page

Dear Seth,  I’ve finally come to terms with something I’ve known for the better part of my life: I have one of the nastiest, most ardent, obsessive natures. After so many years, accepting this is not much of a hassle to me. Becoming an adult also means understanding myself to an almost molecular level, and thus getting reacquainted with my good and bad habits is a must, so that I can learn what to weed out and what to keep in order to maintain my health (and sanity). A few of these habits, however, die hard. And there is at least one that I can’t bear to part ways with.

If you had to guess, you’d probably get it right. It’s not that difficult to suspect that I’m talking about you. But it’s not about you as an individual, per se; I am simply referring to the man I came back to every single time when reality proved to be way too gruesome, to the friend I cherished for more than a decade through letters and e-mails. I’ve documented my days for you for too long to be able to drop it as casually as you did, but the only difference is that I don’t really send these to anyone in particular, least of all people you. No: they pile up in my draft box, serving as a virtual diary of sorts. It is no surprise that I’d rather walk on hot coals than contact you again.

It’s been at least eight years since we last saw each other. The funniest thing is that I can’t quite remember when or how our last meeting happened. I can’t remember what you were wearing, where we were, what you told me. I can’t remember feeling sad or anxious or elated about it. All that I know is that it must’ve been the last straw, for I haven’t sought you out ever since then, not even once. For someone that used to depend on you like you held the answers to all of my most troubled questions, I can certainly pat myself on the back and admit I’ve done a good job.

Still, when it’s late at night and the world feels too big for me, I can’t help but wonder just what is going on in your life. If you’re also working too hard, if you also think of me when you finally lie down, getting ready for a sad, worn out sleep, made even more miserable by the sickening replay of my memory in your head, over and over again… I wouldn’t even be able to name the specific afflictions, if you asked me. I also believe that you have your own, different versions of a torment that probably don’t even include me. I’m the only one lost in this narrow stream, swimming endlessly, unable to find the end of you. Where do I even begin?

Seth, I’ve been trying hard to find some solace in the most dubious displays of normalcy. I read more, still play too much ball,  go out with my friends, even tried learning a new language; one that very few people can speak, just so that I can share some curious tidbits of something unknown with the ones around me. Did you know? The Greeks have a word for the complaint without answer: paropono. It stems from the heart’s labor, from the strange attraction of sadness, the grievance. It resounded strongly within me for so long because I, too, understand what it is to shout my frustrations into nothingness; my whole life used to be defined by running after you tirelessly, begging for something, anything you could give me.

I suppose I could end this charade quite easily if I wanted to. Even though you’re not really active on social media, I could simply ask your mother and your father how have you been, what have you been up to. It would be quick, like ripping off a band-aid; they would tell me you’re doing great, that you’ve met someone. That you’re going to be married soon, and that I should expect an invitation… The more I think about it, the more I realize just how therapeutic it is to not know a thing about you anymore. I fear that learning that you’ve moved on would be fatal to me.

For as long as my cowardice lasts, I’ll keep picturing a version of you that is more like what I want you to be: lonely, lost and just as miserable as me. After all, we’ve always been quite good at matching each other’s energy. 

Until next time, 

Ten

@henrystravss

[lumiereandcogsworth]

40. Who is the fun parent/ Who is the responsible parent? (from this list) (and this ask)

!!!!!!!!!!!! parents!adelle my best friends parents!adelle <3 short answer: belle is the fun parent and adam is the responsible parent.

belle is so free-spirited by nature, and her absolutely favorite thing about children is their curious little minds. so when her own kiddos want to explore? WHO is she to stop them? plus that’s how she grew up. yes maurice was careful and worried about her but he felt she was safe enough as long as she stayed within the village limits (which she didn’t always do but for the most part <3) so belle grew up exploring and imagining and adventuring as much as she could and that’s exactly what she wants for her babies 🥰 and they all have varying levels of her curiosity in them so they DO explore and play a lot!

adam is just so careful. the thing about adam as a parent (something i am definitely not utterly obsessed with discussing) is that he never really expected himself to care. he was raised as an heir, and for most of his life, it was drilled into his head by his father that he was pretty much worthless besides his ability to ascend to the throne. so to adam, “having children” just meant having heirs, carrying the family position, living in a loveless world. BUT THEN EVERYTHING CHANGED! you know, you were there. we all saw that guy fall head over heels in love with the most lovely and strange woman ever.

so now he has love, so much love, all that love that his mother placed gently inside his heart when he was a boy, now spilling over. he loves belle so much and he feels so completely protective of her. she is crazy and wild and adventurous and he worries about her every day, he just can’t help it. and of course they argue about it but they both know there’s love at the center of it all so they carry on loving each other as they always do.

but when his own child is coming, suddenly everything he thought growing up has changed. this child can’t just be an heir. he made this child with his beloved! there’s nothing but love here! and so much worry!! the protectiveness he feels for belle is only multiplied when they become parents. he hardly feels worthy of this. all of this!!!! a second chance at life? a loving and caring partner? children to teach and guide and love? he doesn’t think he deserves it at all. they’re gifts he never expected to be worthy of receiving. so he’s the responsible parent. he worries endlessly. he tells them to look out for each other. he vows to always watch over them. he becomes the protector he never had after his mother died. he carries her love and gentleness within him and his children are simply never afraid of him.

they know they’re loved!! they know they are loved when their mother runs around in imaginary worlds with them, when she climbs trees and races and laughs with them. and they know they’re loved when their father holds them close, when he kisses their heads and listens to every story they tell and reads until they fall asleep against him.

i love writing adam and belle as parents because it’s such a perfect balance. and at the end of every day, there is simply nothing but love in this family :”)

[robininthelabyrinth]

I am *endlessly* curious about how Wei Wuxian ended up at the Cloud Recess, and very satisfied my internal suspicion that the Lan and the Jiang were busy rebuilding their power/plotting a coup was right. Though I'm now curious about their reaction to 'Meng Yao is being kept around, and as Empress at that'.

spontaneous fic extra for Good Help - ao3 link

-

Good news! one of Nie Huaisang’s letters started, which was never good news. My brother has finally become gainfully employed! He will no longer be a burden on society, a good-for-nothing that does nothing but idle his days away, bringing shame upon our family name.

Wei Wuxian blinked down at the letter. “Jiang Cheng,” he said. “Did I manage to hit my head and wake up in a world where Nie Mingjue is not the Empress?”

“No,” Jiang Cheng said, looking bored. He was officially there on Jin sect business, though everyone politely pretended that he wasn’t very clearly there to see Wei Wuxian or, for those not in the know, sent by his husband, who had virtually no cutsleeve tendencies at all, to get him somewhere that wasn’t Lanling. It was an excuse they used rather a lot to get Jiang Cheng to where he needed to be. “He’s definitely still the Empress. Keep reading.”

Wei Wuxian kept reading.

“You have got to be kidding me,” he said a second later. “Someone mistook him for a guard? How?!”

“I mean, it’s not as ridiculous as you might think. No one’s seen him in years,” Jiang Cheng said, finally breaking his mask of boredom in favor of a grin. “He’s always behind all those veils – I’m pretty sure his fashion sense as Empress is ‘how much can I look like the curtain I’m trying to hide behind’.”

“But he’s so –” Wei Wuxian moved his hands around in an attempt to encompass very broad shoulders, a narrow waist, muscles, and also height. “Notable!”

“It’s been a while since you’ve been to court, hasn’t it? He’s always up on that platform far away from everyone else – you know how Wen Ruohan likes to look down on everyone – and everything around him has been resized for him; he looks more proportional that way. And if you didn’t know, and there’s no reason that this Meng Yao fellow would know…”

“Still!”

“No, really, it’s not that strange! You know how Wen Ruohan’s guards of the inner hall are dressed, all fancy Wen sect robes, and that’s all Nie Mingjue has other than his Empress get-up, which obviously isn’t appropriate for when he wants to go outside to train Baxia. He would’ve been wearing the right clothes and walking in the right place, and he is what you’d expect a guard to look like…if you bumped into him at random, as happened here, it’s a reasonable mistake to make.”

“He hired him as his secretary,” Wei Wuxian marveled. “Just – wow. Wow. Mingjue-xiong is going to break him in half, the first time he tries anything.”

“Maybe,” Jiang Cheng said. “Maybe not.”

-

Someone needs to go assassinate this Meng Yao person right away, Nie Huaisang’s next letter – nominally addressed to Lan Wangji this time – said. I think my brother might actually like him. A upstart Jin bastard that worked his way up through the Fire Palace – do you think all these years with Wen Ruohan has rotted da-ge’s sense of taste?

“He doesn’t actually mean that we should assassinate him,” Wei Wuxian told Lan Wangji, who nodded in agreement. “We still need the viceroy to remain in his place as the target. He’s just being dramatic.”

If Nie Huaisang actually wanted Wei Wuxian to assassinate someone, he had other ways of asking.

That was a fair portion of what Wei Wuxian did these days, actually, other than work on his ideas for demonic cultivation and warm Lan Wangji’s bed. Ironically enough, of the three, the last was his actual job: after Wen Chao had his golden core destroyed as punishment for having dared fight back when the Wen sect invaded the Lotus Pier – a temper tantrum at not being allowed to do the same to Jiang Cheng, Wei Wuxian suspected, since Wen Ruohan had even then already planned to sell the heirs of the Jiang sect to the highest bidder – Lan Wangji had, after quietly rescuing him at Jiang Cheng’s frantic instigation and with Nie Huaisang’s connivance, announced that he was keeping him as a personal pet.  

Wen Ruohan had been pressuring the Lan sect to adopt some vices, simply because he knew it would make them uncomfortable – Lan Qiren had been a particular target – and he’d been satisfied by the notion of one of Lan Qiren’s precious nephews, the Jades of Lan, deciding to keep a whore, even if he’d insisted on having Wei Wuxian inspected to make sure he’d been thoroughly used.

(Proving it had not been a hardship, not when Wei Wuxian had a lover as thorough and tireless as Lan Wangji. Joke’s on you, Wen Ruohan!)

Still, even as Wei Wuxian did (in his opinion) some of his best work on his back and puzzled his way through demonic cultivation as the only possible route for him now – Lan Qiren helped him with some of the musical cultivation bits, and also in arguing to the Lan sect elders that some type of cultivation was better than nothing, and anyway there was a limit to how much trouble he could cause while under close supervision – he had also started up a sideline in taking out their political enemies on account of being the one of them that people would least suspect. No one even remembered his name anymore!

“Maybe we should go to court and check him out,” Wei Wuxian added thoughtfully. “See what he’s like, make sure he’s not leading Nie Mingjue down the wrong path, that sort of thing.”

They could pass along some of Nie Huaisang’s messages, too.

There was that whole coup they were planning, even if it was far less interesting than Nie Mingjue actually making a friend for the first time in over a decade…

“Mm,” Lan Wangji agreed. “Wei Ying has good judgment.”

“I do! If he’s nice – though there’s no chance he’ll be nice, he’s from the Fire Palace – I’ll tell Nie Huaisang that I approve,” Wei Wuxian decided. “If he’s awful, I’ll send a ghost to haunt him until he can’t sleep. If he’s a little awful but seems salvageable, I’ll…I don’t know…I’ll set some dogs on him!”

Lan Wangji’s eyebrows went up.

“You’ll set some dogs on him!”

The eyebrows went down.

“Rude, Lan Zhan. Very rude.”

-

“So having now seen Meng Yao and my da-ge interact with my own two eyes, I’ve decided that they’re going to get married,” Nie Huaisang announced.

“Is that wise?” Wei Wuxian asked, even though he actually thought Meng Yao was pretty cool. He was so good at being nice to people that he disliked, so incredibly efficient, so thoughtful, and best of all only very rarely followed up on the occasional murder-eyes he liked to shoot people when he thought no one was looking; it had actually been the fact that he and Lan Wangji had both vouched for him that had convinced Nie Huaisang to change his plans to account for his brother’s preferences. “Making him the Empress? He’ll be bossing your brother around in no time.”

“He’s already bossing my brother around, and that’s the way my brother likes it,” Nie Huaisang said. “Making Meng Yao the mother of the Empire – above ten thousand, below one – is the ideal way to sate his hunger for power in a way that makes him feel confident that he won’t be so easily replaced the way a viceroy or prime minister would be, and therefore unlikely to betray us. Also, it will make Jin Guangshan have an aneurysm, and that will be hilarious.”

“I like that,” Jiang Cheng said. “Also, didn’t we agree that you were going to be the prime minister?”

“No,” Nie Huaisang said patiently. “You are going to be prime minster, and I’m going to be your empty-headed but pretty former Imperial Consort wife.”

“I’m pretty sure ‘former Imperial Consort’ isn’t usually a thing.”

“Yes, well, it’s a coup, we make the rules. It’d be such a shame not to use this nice bureaucracy that Wen Ruohan set up for us…Wei-xiong, what about you?”

“What about me? I’m very happy as Lan Zhan’s whore.”

Jiang Cheng tried to hit him, but Wei Wuxian dodged, cackling. “Maybe I’ll start spending his money on fancy clothing and living it up now that I’m his official mistress,” he said. “I have Wang Lingjiao’s example to look up to, don’t I..?”

“I would like to marry Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji opined, and Wei Wuxian suddenly felt all gooey inside.

“I meant what will we do with him in the government,” Nie Huaisang said, long-suffering. “You’re all useless – though not as useless as me, of course.”

Jiang Cheng pressed a kiss to his cheek. “No one’s as useless as you, my little good-for-nothing.”

“And don’t any of you forget it!” Nie Huasiang exclaimed, then elbowed Jiang Cheng in the ribs. “Don’t touch me, you married man. Get a proper divorce before you try making your way into my bed; what sort of girl do you think I am?”

“You can’t be serious!” Jiang Cheng spluttered. “Jin Zixuan is drawing up the papers right now –”

“I feel like I deserve a proper wedding, don’t you?” Nie Huaisang asked Wei Wuxian, who started laughing. “I didn’t get a proper one the last time around –”

“We’ve been sleeping together for years!”

“We were having a thrilling affair under the nose of an evil tyrannical dictator. Who’s to say that the spark’s still there?”

“Oh you want spark,” Jiang Cheng said. “I’ll give you spark –”

[fanmoose12]

He's invited to their engagement party. Levi doesn't know if it's a cruel joke or a horrible misunderstanding. Quite frankly, he's not sure what's worse. He decides not to go either way. He doesn't think his heart can take it. And he doubts he'd be a welcomed guest there anyway.

But then Moblit visits their office. He doesn't come to Hange, doesn't bring flowers or other gifts. No, he goes straight to him.

"Can we talk, Levi?" he pocks his head inside, smiling slightly. The smile is painfully awkward, and yet endlessly sincere. What a fucking sweetheart, Levi thinks bitterly. So different from him. Perhaps, that's why Hange chose him in the end.

"What do you want?" he grunts, staring at his computer screen and trying to appear busier than he actually is. But Moblit either doesn't get the hint, or doesn't care. Wearing that same damn smile, he walks further into Levi's office and sits down on a chair that stands by his desk.

"It's about the engagement party," he gets straight to the point, almost leaving Levi breathless. The audacity... And he thought the other man was a sweetheart. "You're the only one who didn't give an answer..."

Levi hopes Moblit doesn't ask for his reason. Calling Hange's fiance a fucking moron would probably destroy what little relationship they still have.

"I know your history with Hange isn't the simplest one..." the smile falters for a second, but doesn't leave Moblit's face completely. "But she still holds you in high regard. She would want you to be there for her."

What an insolent fucking bastard. Wants him to be there? Wants to have his heart ripped out, more likely. Levi doesn't believe Hange is that cruel.

But if what Moblit tells him is true... If Hange really wants him to come, then he simply has no choice. He always had trouble with saying no to her, after all.

He makes this hard decision surprisingly easy.

"I'll be there, don't worry," he tells Moblit.

The man beams. He reaches out and catches Levi's hand, shaking it heartily. "Thank you so much," he says. "It'll mean so much to Hange, and I just want to make her happy, you know?"

More than you'll ever know, Levi thinks.

But, truth be told, he doesn't understand Moblit. If he was in his place - and there was a time where he almost was - he would never invite Hange's assholish ex to their engagement party, he'd rather kick his ass, and hard. But, perhaps, that's the difference between them, the difference that made Hange choose Moblit over him. Moblit places her happiness well above his own. And Levi can't thank him enough for that.

He can try, though.

"Thank you as well," he murmurs, and for a moment, Moblit's eyes fill with confusion. But then that second passes, and he seems to understand him, and his gaze softens, as he gives Levi a small nod.

"See you soon," he says, and leaves Levi's office.

He stares at the closed door for another minute, trying to understand what had possessed him to agree to it. To willingly go and celebrate Hange's engagement to another man... Something is definitely wrong with him.

That's called torturing yourself, a malicious voice in his head whispers.

Levi's intent to agree.

***

He realizes what a mistake he made pretty quickly. Two seconds after entering the café Moblit had rented out for the occasion, to be exact.

He walks in, sees Hange and Moblit in a middle of a room, dancing, while everyone cheers on them, and wants to walk out immediately.

The song choice is awful as well. He always hated Walk the Moon.

He's still by the door, and, maybe, if he leaves now, no one would notice. He almost turns back but then-

Then he remembers.

She would want you to be there for her

With a deep sigh that gets lost in a loud beat of music, he walks inside. He moves as discreetly as possible, avoiding everyone's curious eyes, as he tries to find a seat in the deepest, darkest corner of the café.

He finds it, fortunately. And, surprisingly, someone is already occupying it. His eyes widen, as he recognizes Petra. Soft-spoken and sweet, she can't exactly be called a life of the party. Yet for her to be hiding in the corner... It's a little bit strange, Levi can't deny it.

His thoughts about Petra are chased away when a new song comes in.

Oh, her eyes, her eyes

Make the stars look like they're not shinin'

God, if there is someone he hates more than Walk the Moon, it's Bruno Mars. The song is fitting though, he can't deny.

She is perfect just the way she is.

He turns away from Petra and heads for the bar.

He orders vodka on the rocks for himself, and - because he can be a gentleman sometimes - he also asks for a cocktail that is so sugary it can probably give one cavities for Petra.

When he sits next to her, handing her a drink, Petra smiles and thanks him. A faint blush colors her cheeks too, but Levi ignores it, churning it up to the poor lighting of the room. He ignores Petra's attempt at conversation as well, gladly he has all the reason to - the music is too loud to hear anything else. For once, Levi is thankful for that.

Petra keeps glancing at him, though, and the red on her face gets more prominent, and with a deep sigh Levi turns to her.

Petra is pretty, incredibly so. Only a blind wouldn't see it. Only a blind wouldn't see her obvious crush on him as well. Petra is sweet and pretty, maybe, he should talk to her. Maybe, it'd ease some of his heartbreak. Not all of it, obviously. Only one person can do it. The person who is still twirling around with the man who is not him.

His hand is almost reaching to her, his fingers are almost at her forearm, when a fucking photo montage begins.

Set to A Thousand Years.

He curses and bolts out of his place. Even he is not masochistic enough to watch hundreds of photos with the love of his fucking life in the arms of another man.

He walks outside and takes a deep breath. His tense muscles relaxe instantly when the sounds of music and laughter and delighted cheering fades away. He leans against the bricked wall and directs his gaze up to the sky. Stars aren't visible yet, the wind is slightly too harsh to be standing in just jacket and shirt and he forgot his cigarette pack, but Levi chases those complaints away.

He's almost content and he intends to stay this way, but then-

The door opens, and Levi turns to it with a scowl, thinking that it's Petra who decided to follow him. He realizes his mistake immediately, and his breath hitches, when he is met with those brown deep eyes.

Fuck.

He swiftly tears his gaze away, suddenly extremely aware of his heartbeat.

"Sorry!" Hange chuckles, the sound too hollow to be genuine. Out of the corner of his eyes, Levi sees her running a hand through her hair, messing it up even more. "I didn't wish to-"

"You didn't," he breathes out. He closes his eyes for a second, mustering all of his courage, and then looks up at her. "The street is wide enough to fit both of us. Stop being an idiot, four-eyes."

The nickname slips easily from his lips. It is only after he said it, only after he sees the shaken expression on Hange's face that realizes he hasn't called her that ever since their breakup.

He doesn't acknowledge his mistake. Bringing it up now means opening another can of worms he's not sure he can get through. Having Hange so close to him is already hard enough.

"Why aren't you inside?" he asks, attempting to sound nonchalant and not getting even close to achieving it. "A fience shouldn't skip her own engagement party. Especially when the photo montage is on..."

"Oh please," Hange huffs. "I stared so much at these photos while we selected them, I am getting sick just by looking at them. Besides," she pouts. "Moblit didn't let me share our private photos."

In spite of himself, Levi chuckles. "Are you saying photos like that exist?"

Hange snickers too. "Oh god, of course, they do not. I think Moblit would have a heart attack should I even offer to take a photo like that."

"So you're saying your fiancé is boring?"

Hange scoffs, and elbows him in a side. "I'm saying he's orderly."

"Same thing," Levi shrugs, and Hange laughs.

His treacherous heart skips a beat. Something warm spreads through him, as he listens to Hange's laughter. It grows warmer and spreads further, until it feels like he's enveloped by a sunlight - he's content, relaxed and happy. Hange always had such an effect on him.

She was the only who ever did.

"Thanks for coming," she tells him, after her laughter subdues. "I know it's probably awkward..."

"It's fine," he shakes his head.

"It's good to see you, Levi," a smile plays on her lips, the sweet and soft one that Levi always thought was reserved exclusively for him. He wonders if that is still true.

"It's good to see you too," he murmurs. "I'm glad you're happy, Hange," he adds, looking at her. There is a stray lock of hair right next to her nose, and he gently pushes it away, tucking it behind her ear. "If you need anything, know that I'm here for you. I always will be."

He turns away and leaves after that, before he does something stupid like confess his undying love.

That's probably the last thing Hange wants to hear anyway.

He walks inside the cafe and returns to Petra's side. He looks at her, the words "want to ditch that shitty party?" almost at the tip of his tongue. But then Hange walks back in and their eyes meet across the room. She lifts her lips in a smile and tentatively raises her hand, waving at him. Levi nods, fighting back a smile of his own. His eyes still soften, though.

The hand he had outstretched towards Petra falls limply to his side.

Maybe, she'd help him forget, maybe, she'd ease some - not all, obviously - of his heartache.

But, apparently, he's not a complete asshole, because he can't do it - not to Petra, not to himself.

Not to Hange.

He lifts a glass to his lips and turns his gaze to the small stage. There Moblit is telling some story - either about their first kiss or their first date, Levi doesn't listen to him at all. Instead his eyes are focused on Hange - the faint blush on her cheeks, her glistening eyes, as she keeps laughing, laughing, laughing. Their gazes lock for a second, and her eyes turn just a little bit brighter.

At least one of them is happy. Levi revels in that.

[sweetestlamb]

Call My Name

Summary: “I don’t know what to do I think I’m falling for you.” 

Author's Note: Back with my longest update for this story, almost 10k!! I have only written that much for a chapter for IOTNBO, I’m so proud and excited. It’s thanks to many of you who have been messaging me to let me know how much you appreciate my story and those of you who are making artwork in any capacity based on my story, I am honored thank you!! I battled a lot with the ending but finally I just went with my gut, the characters wanted to act this way and who am I to fight it? I hope you enjoy and I will see you again in the next chapter! Amazing header by @ewolfwitchwisegirl every time I see it I can’t help but smile. Thank you endlessly. 

She checks the time on her phone again, for no particular reason just curious about how much time has passed since she last checked. Five minutes. Interesting, she'll make sure to check again to see if her hypothesis is correct, that time seems to move slower in Ju-Kyung's house it feels as if they have been sitting here for hours yet her phone is displaying something completely different and there has to be a scientific explanation for that.

"You acted like you didn't want him to have your phone number but now you won't stop checking your phone." Su-ah teases across the room, hanging upside with her feet on the wall as her fingers move across her own endlessly buzzing phone. She's not jealous about that, not at all.

"I don't know what you're talking about. I was just checking the time." She replies coolly pushing the phone away from her with complete disinterest. 

She states blankly back at twin penetrating stares of disbelief, rolling her eyes she lowers her head onto the table picking at the skin on her index finger.

"I told you to stop doing that!" Ju-Kyung admonishes grabbing her hands and halting her abuse, they are hideous to look at the skin peeling all over no amount of lotion can rectify the damage she's done. They are one of the reasons she loves winter, she has a bounty of gloves to hide them from view. Self-consciously she tries to twist them away, they look even worst next to the soft plush skin of Ju-Kyung, who consistently moisturizes the appendages.

"Just leave them. They're ugly anyway."

The other girl ignores her bringing out the hand cream she's seen so many times, she simply sighs when the thick lotion is rubbed into her brittle skin. They both know that this is pointless because she'll soon wash away any benefits but Ju-Kyung is always persistent and she's given up on fighting with her. With a light pat and triumphant hum, Ju-Kyung releases her.

"There. Don't they look beautiful?"

They don't. Out of all the things she hates about herself and that lists grows more abundant everyday, her hands are high on the list. They make her feel hideous and as if anything she touches will also lose its beauty. A twisted nightmare inducing Midas touch.

She doesn't reply beyond shoving them into the pocket of her blazer.

"Su-jin?" Su-ah calls from behind her, sounding more serious than she's used to. She tightens in anticipation, barely turning her head.

"Are you okay? I've been giving you space but I want to know what's wrong. What happened at school?"

Her chest constricts painfully, she's not ready for this conversation possibly will never be but if she refuses will they shut her out? Will she be abandoned? Fear rushes through her veins at the very idea of being without them.

She forces herself to speak, "I...its-- what....I"

The words are lodged in her throat choking her until it's hard to breathe, she starts wheezing and then she's wrapped up in a tight hug, her last bit of oxygen squeezed from her body.

"Shhhh. It's okay. We love you, don't cry." Su-ah coos at her, stroking her head and mumbling soothing words into her ear. Ju-Kyung wipes away ardent tears she hadn't realized had fallen, her smooth hands soft on Su-jin’s wet skin.

"I can't. I'm sorry, not yet. Please don't go." For once she says exactly what's in her heart, people leave that's her reality but not them, she can't lose them death would be easier. So she begs tightening her once limp arms around Su-ah's small waist, clinging to the other girl like a weeping child. Her father has stolen everything she's ever loved from her, they couldn’t be another casualty.

"We're not going anywhere. We love you, no matter what. Nothing could change that."

She allows Su-ah to rock her back and forth, deep in her heart she knows those words aren't true, feelings change and once they figure out her secret, this love will fade and they'll grow apart; pity is the kiss of death. Once they know how truly pathetic she is they won't be able to look at her, she'll just be a broken doll that needs to be fixed.

"We love you."

Sure, but for how long?

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Becoming Sujin's friend wasn't easy she can remember the day she first saw the abnormally beautiful girl, she looked like a character out of a Korean drama with her perfect round face and effortless style. She'd simply stared in awe, too dazed to approach the other girl. When they crossed paths in the hallway she watched the other girl intently, she decided in that moment they had to be friends.

It was like destiny, they ended up in the same class and she started to follow the other girl around smiling warmly every time those cool eyes would look at her in question. She sat near her in the cafeteria and greeted her every morning, yet she was no closer to becoming her friend still skirting the edge of acquaintance.

Then one day out of the blue for the first time the other girl approached her, her face expressionless but the air around her was frigid. She gulped watching her draw nearer until they were face to face.

"What do you want from me?" She blinked at the unexpected question, rolling it over in her mind and still not coming up with an answer.

"What?" Was her eloquent reply, she was finally having a conversation with her dream friend and she couldn't get her thoughts together.

"You're always following me. Do you want something from me?"

She thought it was blatantly obvious what she desired from the other girl but she smiled before replying, "Friendship. I want to be your friend."

She'd never seen the other girl look confused before, her eyes got wider and her lips almost disappeared from how tightly she was twisting her mouth.

"Why?"

Her first reaction was to laugh because it sounded like a joke, who wouldn't want to be Sujin's friend she was one of the smartest and prettiest girls in the school but something about the look on her face told Su-ah those answers wouldn't suffice. The other girl was peering at her with deep searching eyes, waiting for her response.

Shrugging she didn't overthink her reply, choosing not to list the many reasons and going with the most basic, "I like you."

It was her first platonic confession, she almost blushed at the words and the potential misunderstandings but Sujin simply looked at her before walking away without another word. She sighed thinking she'd scared the other girl away, walking home crestfallen.

But the next day, Sujin said good morning to her first for the first time ever and they walked to class and as they say the rest was history, they became each other's confidant and best friend. Sujin, the first person to know about her crush on Tae-hoon, always there to wipe her tears after their countless break ups.

Su-jin is like a sister and that is why her breakdown feels even worst, she doesn't know what's going on, has never seen her best friend cry before. Su-jin isn't one to be open about her emotions, her smiles are as elusive as her tears. So her heart aches as Sujin shakes in her arms, wishing she knew what was hurting the girl this deeply so she could rescue her.

"I'll go wash my face." She's reluctant to let the other girl go but she knows the intricacies of her brilliant mind, knows that she's embarrassed and mentally ripping herself apart. Unwrapping her arms she lets her go, tears pooling in her eyes watching her friend suffer. 

Quickly brushing the moisture away she turns to Ju-Kyung who isn't faring much better, dark mascara lines dripping down her cheeks. She laughs sadly wiping at the marks with her thumbs before pulling her fingers back and wiping them on her jacket.

"I'm sorry I'm crying, I know we need to be strong for her." Ju-Kyung apologizes but more stubborn tears rolls down her face and she hugs her tightly, needing the comfort herself.

"You're allowed to cry. We'll be there for her until she's ready to tell us what's wrong."

They nod and hug each other weeping for their friend who so solemnly weeps for herself.

It shocks them both when a loud vibration penetrates the silence of the room, the noisy disturbance makes them jump apart before they both glance at the phone on the table before looking at each other.

"Do you think it's...."

"What if it's.."

They speak at the same time and that's the exact moment that the door creaks open and Sujin arrives with red-rimmed eyes her hair now pulled back in a low ponytail.

Su-ah looks at the phone with wide eyes before looking at Sujin, then back to the phone before smiling innocently, "You should check the time."

Sujin doesn't react at first, standing completely still before she takes a hesitant step forward as if the phone has transformed into a bomb. Gingerly lifting it up she wipes go unlock the screen, trying to look unbothered her movements exaggeratedly slow. Su-ah sees right through her, sees the way her fingers twitch and how she takes a deep breath before opening the message.

She watches Sujin's face for a reaction, a smile or frown but there's no reaction until she huffs and throws the phone away with a sharp whisper, "That idiot. What the hell is that?"

Without asking for permission, they know each other's passwords there isn't much privacy between the three of them, she picks up the discarded phone, eyes bulging at the message before she starts to giggle. It was exactly who they thought and his first message to her is an image and the words, saw this and thought of you.

She grins at the message, wondering if Seojun knows how flirty the message reads. He'd openly let Sujin know that she was on his mind. She'd spontaneously decided to save Sujin under that name in his phone Ju-Kyung had told her about their interesting conversation and the pet name, then he used it again at the gate and she couldn't resist. What girl didn't like being called a princess?

"If he calls me that one more time I'm going to break his motorcycle." She winces at the threat, shifting her eyes. Okay, it seemed there was one girl.  She needs to tell Seojun to never mention to Sujin that she was the one to save her under "princess" she had helped him get her number after all, they were practically friends now. He couldn’t throw her under the bus. 

"Are you going to answer?" He wants to know if you want him to buy it for you." She giggles at the new message gasping when Sujin snatches the phone from her hands, she looks over at Ju-Kyung with a raised eyebrow at the show. They both watch with conspiring smiles as the commonly emotionless girl angrily throws herself into the bed and starts animatedly tapping on her screen.

She's never looked more alive.

It's the universe righting itself when she hears Ju-Kyung's mother yell up the stairs.

"Ju-Kyung, tell your friend Su-jin her father is here to pick her up."

Ju-Kyung's mother says the words upbeat, mumbling about doting fathers and harshly hitting her husband on the back of his head as she wonders to the kitchen. She schools her face into a plastic smile, despite the fear gripping at her and making it hard to focus. But she can't show any cracks in her display today, too much has happened and she can't allow anyone to be suspicious. They have to believe that her father is a loving man who picks up his daughter out of the goodness of his heart.

He almost looks normal smiling serenely in the doorway, even lifting a hand to wave at her. Cold ice chills run down her spine at the terrifying action.

"Why didn't you tell your mother and I you were going to a friend's house? We were worried sick about you."

She can hear the threat coded in those words, how dare you go anywhere without my permission, she rushes to his side knowing every minute she wastes he will punish her for. She'd inconvenienced him by making him pick her up. He would make her regret that decision.

Bowing to Ju-Kyung and her family, avoiding Su-ah's watchful eyes she rapidly puts on her shoes watching as her father bows as well thanking Ju-Kyung's parents for allowing her to stay so late and when they turn he grips her tightly all but dragging her out the door. His coat blocks the treatment from view and she grunts when he swings the car door open and tosses her roughly inside.

Slamming his door shut he glares over at her, "Do you know how hard it was finding this dirty shit hole of a house? Are you befriending anyone now? This is the kind of person you've deemed worthy of being seen with, you're a Kang for God's sake!"

She swallows her angry, desperately wanting to defend Ju-Kyung but his hands curled tightly in fists make her stifle her argument. Instead she bows her head quietly, letting him spew acid dripping words at her.

"You're not allowed to come here again. My daughter can't be seen with the help."

She anxiously claws at her hands in her lap, jumping when he yells in the confined space of the car.

"Answer me now! Do you understand!"

Staring out the window she replies, voice empty.

"Yes."

He doesn't wait for her to tug on her seat belt before driving off, done talking to her since she listened to his order.

When they finally walk through the front door she flinches when he grabs her arm suddenly, he rolls his eyes as if she's being dramatic. Seeming to get gratification from pressing his fingers deeper into her skin, she grits her teeth through it all.

"Don't flinch like that around others or I'll make you regret it. Tomorrow you are going on a date with a son of a very powerful man, make sure you hide all your bruises."

This time she can't stay silent, rage bursting to the surface.

"I don't want to go on a date with anyo--"

The smack of his open palm across her forehead drives her entire head to the side, her neck snapping so hard she imagines this is what it feels like to have whiplash.

"You shut your fucking mouth! Did it look like I was asking you a question? You will go on this date." His voice is hard and impenetrable, when her mother limps out with a black eye she gasps in shock unprepared for the gruesome sight.

Mom.

"Look what you made me do to your mother. You better start obeying me again or things will get worst."

She's been selfish, she is knew what would happen to her mother when she didn't come home, knew that her father's fury would need an outlet but she couldn't bring herself to come here. Knowing what her fate would be didn't make her any else scared.

"You need to listen to your father."

She can't bear to look her mother in the eyes, she's been thrown to the wolves too many times to feel true sympathy for the woman who gave birth to her. They are both victims, that much she knows but she can't help the anger that has been present since she was young begging her mother to save her.

She knows now, nobody can save anyone else. If you can't save yourself you're as good as dead.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

He knows he can't be upset with Ju-Kyung or Su-ah, they are unaware of what their friend is going through but dread fills his stomach when Ju-Kyung tells him that Sujin was no longer there, her father had picked her up.

He slams a fist into his pillow, wanting nothing more to smash the man's face in he's never seen the bastard before but he knows that he would hate him on sight. He was a coward and a bully and he could not stand those who picked on others, they were the scum of the earth.

He sends her another unanswered text message reading her last message to him.

Delete my number, I don't want to talk to you.

She hadn't been amused by the sparkly purple tiara, he'd seen it on display in a children's store and immediately her regal scowl popped up in his mind. He hadn't thought about it before snapping a photo and sending it to her. That had been hours ago and still nothing from her after a heated debate about whether or not she was a princess. 

Sighing in exasperation he sends another message.

Let me know if you're okay.

He's sent five other unread messages, all variations of this message worry making him break all his rules about texting the opposite gender.

He glares at the phone as if it's to blame, tossing himself onto this bed and dragging a pillow across his face to groan into.

Almost choking on the cloth of his pillow he shoves it away when his phone finally vibrates on his stomach, eagerly opening it he smiles at the message on the screen.

I'm okay.

She's lying, he's certain of that he's seen the bruises first-hand without makeup lessening the effect. But she's cognizant enough to send him a message and despite the hell she must be going through she cared enough about him worrying to reply, something unfamiliar flutters in his belly. He writes it off as indigestion and flops into his pillow before sending his final message to her.

I’ll see you tomorrow, princess. 

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

He's wondering the halls aimlessly sneering at everyone who looks his way, he doesn't mean to be this moody really didn't mean to snap at Chorong but he can't help it, Sujin is absent her empty seat mocking him in class so he had to escape. He's lost count at the amount of messages he's sent at this point, none of them have been read. He growls at the radio silence, he hates being ignored and when she's the one doing the ignoring his frustration only builds. He doesn't bother analyzing why.

"You look ready to kill the next person who stares at you the wrong way."

He glances at the near monotonous tone behind him, turning to face Suho. He doesn't know how the other boy was allowed to leave the classroom when he currently has the hall pass but rules are usually broken for the star student, he scoffs at the privilege. Nobody ever calls him a troublemaker though. 

"Being a brainiac sure comes with perks." He drawls leaning against the wall.

Suho guiltlessly shrugs, crossing his forearms before grabbing his arm. He doesn't fight the grip allowing himself to be pulled, maybe this will distract him from his thoughts.

"Where are we going?"

Suho doesn't answer but he drags him up the stairs leading to the rooftop, he's instantly reminded of the last time he was here. Her tears warming his chest as she shook apart in his arms. He mentally groans, he’s supposed to be forgetting her why can’t he get her out of his mind?

"You know don't you?" Suho gently states, letting his arm fall between them and staring at him with sure eyes. He peers back squinting in response, uncertain if the other boy is truly alluding to what he thinks. He doesn't say a word, Sujin would never forgive him if he uttered her secret to anyone, he'd never betray her trust regardless of if she's fully given that to him.

"Know what?" He states slowly , watching his friend’s every move.

"About her father."

A deer caught in headlights, if you looked up that saying his face would be the accompanying image.

Forcing his jaw close, he shakes his head staring at Suho suspiciously.

"You knew."

Suho must feel his judgement because his face hardens before he looks away, "I did."

"Why didn't you do anything?" It's not his place but he can't help his vexation, how long had the other boy known and done nothing?

"We were......young. I slept over, I fell asleep on the couch and I heard him. The next morning she had a split lip and her father told me she accidentally fell down the stairs."

Disgusts winds through his chest at the story, this had been her life since she was a child. While he'd been mourning the loss of his own father, Sujin was being beaten and abused by her own. They were both fatherless.

"I felt guilty every day. I didn't know who to tell, her father was close friends with my dad and I didn't think he would believe me and...... I hated him. After my mom died I hated him so much. I didn't want to ask him for help."

He wants to scream, "What about Sujin? Couldn't you see her pain? Wasn't that enough to put your pride aside?"

But he doesn't because it won't do Sujin any good and Suho has been through his own trauma, he learned that his words have power and despite his anger he doesn't want to hurt his friend, never again.

"It's not your fault." He means it, they were both children. But he just wishes that Sujin had someone back them, that she knew that what was happening wasn't her fault. He just wishes he'd been there.

But he can't turn back time, no matter how desperately he wants to. All he can do is treasure the time he has now.

Her knows what he needs to do.

"I need a favor."

Suho stares at him before slowly nodding.

But not before asking his own question, "Why do you care so much?"

He opens his mouth but nothing comes out. The question spins around in circles in his head, no answer offering itself.

"Do you..... like her?" Suho cautiously inquires searching his face to see if he gives anything away. He doesn't try to hide his emotions.

"That's not important. She needs someone, I've decided to be that person."

The other boy looks at him like he's a puzzle he can't figure out but he nods as if that answer is enough. He'll store that question away for further inspection on his own.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

There's no guarantee that this will work but he stands awkwardly on the sidewalk peering up at the intimidating mansion, it makes his own apartment look like a child's toy. Inadequacy pricks at his ego before he shoves it to the crevice of his mind, this isn't about him.

The driveway is empty that was a good sign. He hadn't thought ahead to what he would do if her father had been home, he wouldn't be able to control his rage. It's a blessing that he won't have to make that decision today.

Pulling out his phone he stares at her number before pressing the call button. It rings and rings and he's sure she's going to ignore him as she's been doing all day, he moves to hang up and call her back when he hears silence and then a quiet, "Why do you keep calling?"

He lets out a sigh of triumph, punching a fist into the air.

Collecting himself he states breezily into the phones, "When people call someone they usually have something to say princess."

Her reaction is immediate, "I told you not to call me that."

"I remember when you told me." He replies cheekily, unable to fight the smile that grows hearing her annoyance permeating through the line, just happy to hear her voice at all. 

"Then why do you keep calling me that?" She tightly replies, sounding like she could turn a coal into a diamond in her mouth.

"It suits you."

"Why? Because I'm rich and spoiled?"

"No. Because you're pretty." He hears himself say, wondering if he's been possessed because he's thought that before looking at the girl he was still a man and he had eyes but he's never planned on saying his inner thoughts out loud.

It takes a moment to realize she hasn't responded, scared she finally hung up he cries out, "Hey! Are you still there?"

Another long pause drags out and he becomes really worried that she's gone after taking so long to get her to answer, maybe everyone's right and he's an idiot.

"Don't say stupid things like that." There's something about her voice, it sounds higher than he's used to and he wonders if maybe she's embarrassed. Maybe even blushing. He'd pay real money to see that sight.

Not wanting to push his luck any further he powers on, resisting the urge to ask if she's blushing. She wouldn't be honest with him anyway.

"Come outside I have something for you."

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

She contemplates what she should do as she peers down at her phone. His name and number flash on her phone as the phone locks itself. She'd begrudgingly saved his number when it became clear that he had no intention of leaving her alone. Nobody besides Su-ah had ever texted her this frequently, she was earning scarily that she didn't hate it. Although she hardly replied, not knowing how to maintain a text conversation. 

Su-ah had teasingly said she should save the boy as prince, so that they could match. She rolled her eyes at the suggestion, Su-ah was so cheesy sometimes they weren't a couple why would they need matching names? Instead she'd saved him as "do not answer" but she'd already broken that rule, she realized appalled at her lack of control.

Losing more control she sighs before crawling out of bed, not bothering to put on makeup to hide the mark on her forehead, he had seen worst. Her father left after taking her to the doctor, regaling another story of her clumsiness and they walked out with cream, powerful enough to ensure that no scar would be left behind. Nobody wanted scarred goods he explained.

The closer she gets to the door the faster her heart beats, how did he know where she lived? They had never discussed that and why did he come all the way here? Didn't he have anything better to do than stalk her? Taking a calming breath she reaches the front door, she can hear her frantic heart beats thumping in her ears.

She turns the door knob, pausing at the sight of his back. The sun is shining brightly outside, the direct opposite of her gloomy dark home. It was a sin for the day to be this beautiful when her life is so damn ugly. With the sun streaking his hair hues of dark brown he turns to face her.

She feels uncomfortable at the rush on emotions that bleeds across his face.

"Don't."

He looks at her quizzically, perplexed by her strange seemingly unprovoked request.

"Just don't.. emote so much."

Of course he doesn't listen, a smile stretching across his face as he steps closer to her. Reaching out with gentle fingers he brushes against the bandage on her forehead.

"Are you okay?"

He’s always asking her that. 

She doesn't feel like lying at the moment, not with his gentle hands and soft eyes beaming at her.

She mutely shakes her head in decline. She doesn't miss how he freezes as if shocked by her honesty. He's not the only one.

"Is that why you didn't come to school?" His voice is barely a whisper now, as if they're sharing a secret only for their ears.

It's a question that doesn't need an answer so she chooses not to respond.

"What did you want to give me?" She breaks the moment, taking a step back until his fingers fall from her skin.

He stares at her for a moment before leaning forward, dangerously close and she tries to retreat but her feet are stuck to the floor as she watches his face get closer to her own. His hands reach over her shoulder and she tilts her head up to follow him, as he lowers his head and her heart skips as realization washes over her, he's going to kiss her. His lips are right there, supple and pink looming closer as her own drop open in surprise and....anticipation? She registers that he's going to kiss her and she might want him to. No. She does, she never knew she wanted this so ardently until it was just a breath away. And now she can't think of anything else but his lips on hers.

She's never been kissed before, never wanted to be either. In second grade and unlucky boy had tried to force a kiss on her, chasing her around the playground puckering his lips and tugging at her skirt. He'd only been able to kiss the sole of her shoe has she launched into a perfectly executed round house kick, shocking him more than hurting him but she'd been placed in time out for a week with no playtime or recess, she had felt no remorse. All the other boys who used to eye her with interest now looked terrified after that incident, no one ever tried to steal a kiss from her again.

She waits for her body's natural defense to kick in and for that itch under her skin to buzz, but it never comes because she doesn't feel unsafe. Knows that he won't hurt her despite her constant dismissal here he is, once again demanding a space in her sham of life. Instead of fear, nerves ravages her body as she  pants loudly staring at his mouth only inches away. Is she allowed to want? She's never had the luxury before to desire such trivial things, it overwhelms her. Shocked by her own thinking and the dawning of feelings she didn't ask to have, she scurries backwards covering her mouth with her hands. Now that she knows that she desires this, she can't have it. She can't taint him with her darkness.

"What are you doing?"

He's smirking with a bag now in his hand intensely watching her and she feels transparent, he's looking straight through her and urge to hide is overbearing.

Turning around she sees his motorcycle and she almost laughs at her unnecessary mental break down.

He hadn't been trying to kiss her. That was merely a fantasy she created in her mind, whatever this was it wasn't romantic. Who could want something as broken and worthless as her, but more importantly her life was not her own to do what she desired. She was an object in her father's plan, a pawn that he could move as he saw fit. It was a mistake to yearn or even ponder, her fate had been decided long before she was born. 

She shouldn't be here, should have never read his message or saved his number she's playing a dangerous game and in the end she'll be the one most damaged. She turns away, rushing to the door no longer curious about his gift. Curiosity is a privilege she isn't allowed.

"Hey! Where are you going?" He grabs her wrist, not scared to touch today. Her body is burning from all the spots he's already set aflame since he arrived.

"Let go!" She tugs her arm away and he sets her free at her barest resistance, but he leaves no space between towering over her and refusing to let her break eye contact. His cologne is distracting. Everything about him is.

"What were you expecting?" She fights the urge to blush as he glances down at her lips before focusing on her eyes.

"Nothing. I wasn’t expecting anything.” She will ensure that she doesn’t in the future, it’s not a lie but rather an oath to herself. 

He stares at her unblinking, its unnerving and she squirms under the hard appraisal. 

“Don’t you want to see your gift?” She shakes her head no, but it seems the question was rhetoric because he doesn’t wait for her answer or acknowledge when she refuses.  

“I told you this reminded me of you.” He purrs softly, she’s never heard his voice like this. It’s so soft that it can barely be considered a whisper, he always acts like she is something fragile. She doesn’t know how to feel about it. 

There's a rustle of a bag opening and then a weight on her head, reaching up she feels hard plastic and ridges and bumps. She knows what it is and she doesn't know how to respond, nothing has ever prepared her for this moment. She’d hidden it well while sitting in Ju-Kyung’s room looking at the child’s tiara, pretended to be annoyed to cover up the way her skin was sticky hot and sweaty. 

When she was younger she had wanted a princess birthday party, with all the trimmings and decorations her eyes sparkled as she told her parents still full of hope and innocence then, believing that she could have anything she wanted if she asked. Her father’s guffaw had shattered that fantasy. 

“We will not have a childish gathering, very important people will be there. You are not going to embarrass me.” 

In the end there was no theme to her birthday and she didn’t get to wear the sparkling tiara she’d seen so many other little girls don on their birthday, she had no friends to invite and she sat alone and abandoned in her room. 

And now, years later there is almost an identical replica sitting on her head. She sniffles looking hard at the ground, blinking rapidly but knowing it’s already too late. 

“I told you to stop. Why won’t you listen? Just stop.” She’s crying now, there’s no way to hide the tears barreling down her cheeks. He looks taken back, hands reaching out for her and then dropping before reaching again. 

“Sujin.”

Hearing him say her name instead of the persistent nickname only makes her sob harder, crying for the younger version of herself that just wanted to be loved and was beaten everyday instead. Wishing that Sujin had this, had someone who was willing to stay, who wanted to be there. She wouldn’t have dealt with such crippling loneliness. 

“I have to go back inside.” She turns to unlock her door, scared of him and everything building between them. 

He doesn’t stop her this time, she can feel his eyes heavy on her back and she halts when he calls out. 

“Just.....don’t ignore my messages okay?”

She inhales, wiping at the wet sheet of tears on her face. She should ignore him, he is “do not answer” for a reason. 

She nods slowly, “I won’t.” The scariest part is that she means it. 

“Good. Come to school tomorrow, it’s boring without you.” 

She doesn’t reply and closes the door without turning back, using it has support when her legs finally give out inside. All of her strength suddenly depleted. 

She walks straight to her room, sitting at her large vanity looking back at a reflection of a girl she can't recognize.

The purple tiara sits ridiculously on top of her head, all flashy plastic rhinestones and glitter, something out of a child's dream. Her dream.  She brings one trembling finger to touch it and without her permission her face breaks into a smile, it's small and fleeting but accompanied with the rosy blush on her cheeks she stares in shock at the face that looks so much like her but can't be.

"Who are you?"

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Seojun slips on his helmet roughly, he plans on texting her and making sure she keeps her promise. His heart is still recovering from her reaction to retrieving the gift, it was apparent she assumed something else was occurring. It almost looked like she thought he was going to kiss her but she hadn’t moved away, not right away. Did that mean..... 

The engine of a sounds behind him shocks him out of his dangerous inklings and he twists his head to see sleek SUV pulling into the hidden garage, the metallic door lifting up to house the vehicle. He doesn’t move, eyes locked on the car. Hands tightening on the armbars he waits impatiently but determined. When the door finally opens and an older man steps out, shorter than him with salt and pepper hair and glasses on his weathered face his blood boils all at once. 

“Can I help you? Do you have business here?” 

Taking a deep grounding breath, he slides a leg over his motorcycle and revs it to life the rumbling engine calming his homicidal thoughts. 

He will never forget this face, he looks like a normal middle-aged man nothing revealing the evil that lurks inside. Menacingly he slowly raises his hand, extending his pointer and lifting his thumb, darkly satisfied when a look of surprise flashes on the older man's face.

"Bang." He pulls back his finger sharply, and now the man is walking angrily towards him but he's ready for this and he twists the throttle and speeds off.

You're not going to hurt her anymore, I'll make sure if it.

The bike thundering beneath him echoes the powerful intent in his mind.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Her father’s pounding on her door shocked her so much the tiara fell off her head as she jolted, she'd carefully picked it up and hid it in a draw fiercely protective of the object already. She knew she shouldn’t keep it but she can’t imagine throwing it away. 

Just for a little bit. 

"You're meeting someone tomorrow, you'll go right after school. Stop at a store and buy an outfit, something fitting for a date. His father is someone I need on my side, don't mess this up."

She'd sat numb at her father's callous words, he clearly had no issue using his only child to gain favors from others.

"Oh and one more thing, I saw some delinquent outside he even threatened me. You better not know who that punk is. If I ever see him around here again I'll call the police."

That comment has been replaying in her mind all day, he shouldn't have come over yesterday and she shouldn't have humored him by going outside. She kept forgetting rationality around him and it would get them both in danger, her father had all but promised that.

After some careful consideration, she decides to seek him out because school is the safest place they can interact without her father knowing.

He's not in the classroom and she tries to think about where else the boy might be, he's usually never too far from her and she realizes that she hasn't seen him today besides their morning classes. He'd seemed distant then, barely looking at her before drooping off to sleep.

After searching the entire school she's no closer to finding the boy and she sighs in exasperation, why is he so elusive today when she commonly can't get him to leave her alone?

Pulling out her phone, she hesitates for a second before mustering the courage.

Where are you?

Staring at the message she clicks the heel of her shoe, watching the message change from delivered and to read. Her stomach clenches as she waits to see his response, maybe he's already tired of her and finally decided to listen to her advice?

Hating the way her heart thumps in anticipation she moves to pocket her phone but before she can complete the movement, it vibrates to life in her hand.

She freezes.

It's foolish because she sent the first message and she's looking for him but now she's too nervous to check her phone.

Thinking of the soothing beating of his heart on that day, she feels her own heart calming.

Feeling fortified, she lifts the phone and with a sigh opens the message.

In the gym. Why? You miss me?

Is this what this emotion is? This gnawing feeling in her chest when she couldn't find him, it can't be right? They are nothing to each other, correction she's nothing to him.

So no, she can’t miss him. 

She clears her thoughts as she walks to the gym, wondering why she never considered looking there.

Sweat and musk clings in the air when she presses the double doors open and all eyes shift to her instantly, slipping on her mask she suppresses the nerves lurking behind her placid stare.

Meeting his eyes across the room, she can't help but notice how sweaty he looks his fringe sticking to his forehead and a droplet rolls down his forearm. Swallowing deeply she closes the gap between them, peering up at him. Discomforted at the way she feels when he slowly smiles at her.

"We need to talk." She doesn't wait for his answer, grabbing his wrist and tugging him from the room. Pretending she doesn't feel all the eyes watching their every movement, everyone needs to just mind their own business.

When they're outside, away from the audience she releases his arm. His heat warming her own cool palm. Suddenly he grabs her hand, twisting them and stroking at the raw shredded skin.

She snatches her hand away harshly, glaring at him. But his angry stare douses her own, a thick vein protrudes from his forehead.

"Did he do this to you? He growls, his fists tightening into balls again.

She stares at him in confusion, unprepared for the level of frustration he's exuding.

Feeling like honestly will be the best thing she shakes her head in decline, "No. I did this to myself."

Disgust. Malice. Contempt. She waits for any of those emotions to cover his face but he's never logical.

"Why?"

Concern. Always genuine concern.

She's never thought of the reason behind her strange compulsion, the desire to wash her hands overwhelming at times.

She's not ready to ponder the psychosis of her actions, not with him and not with herself.

"Did you see my father yesterday?" She changes the topic, regaining control over the conversation before he derails it too far off track.

His lips twists illustrating his displeasure at her obvious attempt to dodge his question but he looks away before replying.

"Yes. After you left, I saw him."

"Did he see your face?"

His eyes dart over her face, as he's searching for an answer to a question only he knows. 

Slowly he drawls, "No. I had my helmet on. He didn't see me."

The same moment she releases a sigh of relief he cheekily asks, "Were you worried about me?"

Staring at his smirking face she feels her anger flare back to life passionately.

“Do you think this is a joke? He can destroy you! Stop acting without thinking about the consequences!” She whispers harshly at him, very aware of their precarious situation in the hallway and how easily rumors can spread in this god forsaken school. 

“You are worried about me.” He looks even more pleased as he nods smugly. 

“Are you insane? Did you listen to a word I said. Seojun, this isn’t a joke!” 

He steps closer, eyes harden sharply like someone flipped a switch. “You don’t need to worry about me. He can’t do anything to me, I’m going to protect you.”

Protect her. No one has ever uttered those words to her, and she lets them wash over her before rejecting them, sneering at him with contempt at his brazen claim she says, “Stop saying nonsense. You need to worry about yourself.” 

She walks away with her heart firmly lodged in her throat. 

I’m going to protect you. 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Ju-Kyung and Su-ah are disappointed when she tells them that she can’t go with them for tteokbokki but they don’t ask her too many questions, easily believing her lie about going to night classes. She hates lying to them but there’s no way to explain what she’s doing without exposing too much about her father. 

She rushes out of the school thankfully running into no one, not even a certain nosy shadow. He’s shrouded by his friends and girls who swoon at the sight of him looking in disdain she leaves the school, reminding herself this is how it’s supposed to be. 

The boutique is expensive, a store associate greeting her at the door and showing her around immediately as if she can smell the money on her. She couldn’t care less about what she wears and she informs the clerk to choose whatever she thinks is appropriate for a date, the word poisonous on her tongue. It’s her first date and it’s with someone she has no amorous feelings for, someone she has never even met before. She walks out of the store with her uniform folded neatly in a bag as she decided to walk out in the new outfit. The clerk had chosen a soft lilac dress with chiffon ruffles lining the hem and shoulders, paired with a white heels and a matching bag. She allowed it because it felt nothing like her, she would have never chosen this for a date and that made her feel like she got to keep a little bit of herself, he wouldn’t be getting the real her. 

She checks the address on her phone once more, walking to the street corner to hail a cab feeling like she’s off to an execution. 

But that’s when she hears a feminine cry, looking around frantically she sees a young girl across the street surrounded by a pack of hungry wolves, high school boys. They are all laughing and rowdy, seemingly unbothered by the terrified wide gaze of their supposed prey. The cab driver beeps his horn at her impatiently and she ignores it, instinctively making her decision. Running across the street with no thought of her own safety, she smacks away a dirty paw that is reaching out for the trembling girl, her eyes made larger by the huge glasses resting on the bridge of her pert nose. She seems oddly familiar. 

“What are you scum bags doing?” She steps in front of the girl shielding her from their unwanted attention. 

They all cheer and holler, turning to jostle each other as if they have been given a gift. 

With a smarmy smile, one of the boys steps forward pursuing her body with hungry eyes, “Well look here boys, we caught an ever better catch. Look at this sexy little thing.” 

He grabs his palms together as they all shout in agreement and when she feels a hand on her wrist, she twists away pulling herself out her reach and swiftly kicks him in the knee he falls to the ground with a grunt of pain. 

“What the fuck! You bitch!” He curses at her and another boy lunges forward to grab her but she easily ducks out of his reach and punches in in the chest. The other boys watch in clear astonishment, slowly retreating from her with their hands outreached trying to placate her. 

“Hey, hey we’re sorry we were just messing with her. We’re going okay, calm down.” 

But then she feels a hand on her ankle and she turns to dig her sharp heel into the offending hand, his scream of pain ringing pleasantly in her ears. 

“Get out of my sight before I break your face.” 

They all rush to follow her order, picking up their fallen friends on the ground hurling more curses in her direction but leaving with their tails between their legs, pathethic little vermin. 

“Are you okay?” She turns to the younger girl with gentle eyes, looking over her body for any injuries and relaxing when she sees nothing out of place. 

“Ye-s-s.” She stutters out looking at her with something akin to wonder and awe in her eyes, she shifts uncomfortably under the stare. She isn’t anyone’s hero, she just did what anyone would do. 

“Okay. Get home safely. “ She starts to walk away but then a small hand grips her forearm, turning back with curious eyes she looks at the other girl waiting for her to explain. 

“Thank you. This is the second time you’ve saved me.” 

She looks at the other girl in confusion, taking in her face and those glasses and suddenly the memory resurfaces in her mind. The girl’s bathroom and all those jealous girls ganging up on her, breaking her down because she was better than them she hated those people the worst. Bullies that were so insecure that they lashed out and tried to hurt others, she had grown up seeing one her whole life. 

“That was you.”

“You’re always saving me. Thank you so much.’ 

Shaking her head she replies, “I wasn’t the one who saved you that day. It as Ju-Kyung, I only came at the end. You don’t need to thank me.” 

But the other girl ignores her and begins to bow deeply repeating her words of gratitude, she reaches out to bring her back up. 

“Stop. You don’t need to do this.” 

“Do you want to get some coffee?” She blinks at the sudden question, blinking and then staring some more. 

“I just feel so grateful to you, I don’t know what I would have done if you didn’t come. You’ve helped me so much, it’s the least I can do. Please.” 

She checks her watch discretely, there is still some time before her “date” and looking at the round pleading eyes of the girl she feels her resolve weaken, sighing she goes against her good sense and nods. 

“Okay, we can get some coffee. But I have another.....engagement.” She struggles to find the correct word for the sham of a date and settles on that. She would much rather call it a business transaction but that would yield too many questions. 

The young girl beams at her, animatedly dragging her off her excited voice sweet and high as she praises a nearby coffee shop. 

“My Oppa works there, he can give us free coffee!” She states with youthful entitlement evident in her tone, she has no doubt that she will be given what she wants. It must be nice. 

The coffee shop is a quaint spot, she’s never noticed it before despite being in this area before. A bell rings announcing their arrival and they both walk up to the register. 

“Oppa! I’m here!” The girl calls out, leaning easily across the counter with no sense of decency, there are no other customers in the store though so there’s no one to judge her and Sujin finds her behavior oddly cute, she’s quite the ball of energy. 

“Oh, you’re here?” 

A chill runs down her spine. She knows that voice. But it can’t be? 

But life isn’t done making a mockery of her yet because Seojun turns around, coffee pot in his hand looking...interesting in his uniform she takes the image in greedily before forcing her eyes away. 

“Can we have free coffee? This is my unnie Kang Sujin.” 

“Unnie?” They both cry at the same time and the younger girl immediately grabs onto her arm, huge puppy eyes penetrating her face. “Can I call you unnie? You already saved me two times. I feel like you’re my guardian angel.” 

She stands shocked by the girl’s admission but before the words are finished processing in her foggy mind, Seojun shouts out looking murderous “Saved you? Did someone try to bully you again? Who is it? I’ll kill them.” 

Unsure of who she should reply to she just stares at them both like a fish on land. floundering around. They are both such forces of nature. 

“I’m fine Oppa.” She watches the girl roll her eyes as if his behavior is common and something to be peeved about, “These boys were trying to bother me but unnie came and beat them up! It was like something out of a movie, they all ran away crying.” The girl tries to demonstrate the moves waving her arms and legs around wildly, almost knocking the coffee cup from her brother’s hand. 

“Hey!” He yells in warning, moving the hot pot away. “Be careful before you hurt yourself.” 

The younger girl looks chastised for merely a second before she’s announcing she needs to use the bathroom and running off, leaving them alone to stare after her. 

Awkward silence remains in the wake of her departure. 

She’s tempted to run away, he is the last person she wants to see right now. 

“You really did that? For Go-woon ah?” His voice is soft, almost shy. For once he isn’t the same self-assured Seojun she’s used to see, he looks younger and the resemblance between the siblings is uncanny now with him looking at her with the same look of awe, his little sister had just minutes ago. 

“I.....yes I helped her. They were idiots, I did for myself. They were an eye sore.” 

But despite her dismissal, he smiles-toothy and ridiculously charming. It’s almost painful to look at, he shouldn’t be allowed to smile like that. 

She stares at him lost in his smile and when he reaches out to grasp her hand, she doesn’t fight it helplessly leaning closer to meet him over the counter, their eyes are locked as the space between them shortens, their bodies moving as if they’re opposite ends of a magnet. 

“Thank you for helping my sister.” He breathes out, his deep voice smooth and airy suddenly there isn’t enough air in the room. He rubs a thumb across the expanse of her hand, and she forgets to be self-conscious and simply enjoys the tender caress. 

“Oppa! Can we get free coffee or not? Why aren’t you making it?” Go-woon’s loud voice shatters the intimate moment as they both fly apart, she moves halfway across the room in her shock. 

Go-woon looks between them both suspiciously, “Did I interrupt something? You both look guilty.” 

“No!” They shout in sync again, Sujin groans realizes that this probably only serves at making them look even more guilty. Go-woon’s mischievous eyes confirm her thoughts. 

“I’ll make your coffee. You can both have a seat.” 

Go-woon starts to walk away to find a table, but she checks her watch again realizing she doesn’t have much time left if she’s going to be on time, she has to leave now. 

“Can I have mine to go? I have to be somewhere and I’m almost late.” 

Then Go-woon chirps in, “Me too oppa! I just realized I have to start a project, I should go home.” 

He stares at them both blankly before shifting his gaze to Sujin, “Where are you going?” He asks finally taking in her outfit, his gaze starting on her face and boldly sliding down her figure. His stare is hot enough to burn. 

Go-woon giggles answering for her, “Oppa look at her, come on. it’s clear she’s going on a date. Boys really don’t know anything.” 

She blanches as how easily the young girl is able to correctly assess the situation, she hadn’t thought it would be that easy to see. 

Seojun’s eyes harden as he turns away, staring at the coffee brewer as it works. He grabs two cups and pours the dark hot liquid in, before adding milk and a syrup and a layer of whipped cream on top. Go-woon hums happily clearly this is her preference as he hadn’t asked her how she wanted her coffee. 

He silently hands the cups to them both. His face is blank and unreadable vast difference from the beatific smile he had blessed her with earlier. She feels as if she has done something wrong, but she has no clue what that is. 

“Go straight home and don’t talk to anyone. Call me when you get home alright?”  

Go-woon is barely listening to him instead she’s happily licking at the thick layer of cream on her cup cooing at the sweetness. 

“Unnie, thank you again. I hope you enjoy your date, I’ll see you at school!” She suddenly has an armful of Go-woon before the girl is bounding out the door with only a “Bye oppa” to her brother thrown over her shoulder. 

“You haven’t said it’s not true yet?” 

She turns back to look at him, tilting her head lightly before sipping from her cup. She’s never had coffee this sweet, but it’s delicious so she takes another sip humming at the flavor. 

He looks away for a moment, his chest expanding deeply before he turns back to her. 

“What are you talking about?”

“Your date. That you have a date, is that true?”

She raises an eyebrow at this straightforwardness, gone in the shy boy she only saw for a minute and this is the Seojun she is familiar with. 

“I didn’t.”  She agrees. 

“Why?” 

“Because it’s true. I am going on a date.” 

During the conversation he started wiping down the already pristine counter but at her words his hand freezes and she watches his fist tighten in the wash cloth he ultimately throws it to the side to direct all his focus on her now, no longer nonchalant and unbothered.  

“With who? Do you like him?” 

She laughs meanly at his question, “You’re so naïve to my world. A date is just another business transaction, he is the son of someone my father needs on his side. I’m his peace offering.” 

“What?” He barks loudly, looking like he wants to hurt someone. She can imagine who that person might be. 

“Don’t get attached to me. My life isn’t mine to live.” She says tired of this discussion and all the feelings he has brought to the surface. Lifting her coffee cup she bids him farewell, “Thank you for the coffee.” 

She doesn’t give him a chance to reply, already knows what he’s going to say but he doesn’t understand everything isn’t as black and white as he keeps assuming they are he needed a reality check, so she provided one. 

Once on the sidewalk she checks her phone, she only has twenty minutes to spare. She can’t afford to wait for a cab so she opens the cab service app, entering the address and sighing in relief when the ETA says that she will arrive in fifteen minutes. Accepting the charge and confirming her location she sighs before lowering her phone, waiting. 

But then she feels arms curl around her shoulder, bringing her back into a solid surface she almost fights the sudden embrace until he whispers in the side of her head, “Don’t go.” 

She tries to pull away but he only holds her tighter, his arms are strong as he holds her firmly against his body. His warmth soaks into her skin and the urge to fight melts away as she relaxes into his embrace, he smells like the deep roast he had poured for them and something inexplicably Seojun that can’t be described with mere words. 

“Stop,” She pleads with him, she has to go even if the idea of going on a date with someone else makes her sick to her stomach. 

Someone else. Where did that come from? Did that mean that she wanted to go on a date with Seojun? 

She can’t answer that question, doesn’t want to deal with the reality. 

“No. I can’t stop. I don’t want to stop. Sujin, don’t go.” 

She shivers as his words curl around her just as warm and tempting as his arms around her shoulders. 

“Why are you doing this?” She demands, her eyes already filling up with tears of frustration she’d convinced herself she had to do this, let herself be used. It was easier this way to listen to her father. But he’s making everything hard and she needs to know why he cares. 

“Why do you care who I go on a date with? Why are you doing this?” She screams into the air, deflating into his arms after her tantrum. Letting him brunt the entirety of her weight, he doesn’t even budge easily holding her up. He shifts his body, bringing his chin onto her head and holding her tighter, leaving no space between them. 

“Isn’t it obvious by now princess?” 

She opens her mouth to berate him, not that damn nickname again. He seriously needed to stop that before she got accustomed to it even now instead of annoyance a foreign emotion rose up inside of her. 

“I told you to stop calling me tha--” 

“I like you.” 

The breath is punched from her lungs and her head swims with his words and she has no retort, no quick rebuttal, nothing. He has left her utterly and devastatedly speechless. 

[atiny-dazzlinglight]

Red Strings of Fate - Chapter 3

Genre: Fantasy, Fluff, Angst, Slight Humor, Romance

Rating: PG-13

Au/Tropes: Supernatural AU, Demons AU, Monster AU

Pairing: No pairing, Eventual OT8

WC: 14.9K

Chapter Warnings: Symptoms of PTSD mentioned, Jealousy, Manipulation, Implied Smut (at the end but no graphic details)

Ao3 Link

Notes: As I said in the last chapter notes, we are back into Hongjoong’s pov and we are continuing from where we last left off. So please enjoy!

Taglist located at the bottom. Fill out this form if you want to be added.

Last Adventure☜︎☜︎ Next Adventure☞︎☞︎

Hongjoong eyes widened as he felt the other male bring his arms in front of him, stretching them both out in front of him.

He watched the prince’s hand touch the hilt of his sword and that’s when Hongjoong squirmed.

“ I asked a question. Your left hand or your right hand?” He drew his sword closer as he bent down.

“ Please! Don’t do this! I do anything else! Just don’t cut off either of my hands.” Hongjoong pleads, his heart beating fast and damn near in his throat. He hasn’t felt this type of fear since Liam and Elijah. His body started to feel numb as Seonghwa sat there as he decided which hand he wanted to cut.

Hongjoong squeezed his eyes shut as he tried to think of something other than the fact that he’ll be losing a hand. The advisor was holding his forearms firmly and out the way as his sword hovered before selecting his left hand.

Seonghwa nearly brought the sword down and through the flesh and bone of his wrist when he stopped. The faintness of aura seeped into the air and had his body hesitate. It was nothing great from the array of beings he dealt with before, but it’s more so the fact of that type of malicious aura coming from a human.

The prince used his free hand to lift Hongjoong’s chin, “ What are you?”

Hongjoong was confused as he looked up at is blue eyes, “ What?”

“ Don’t try to lie to me. I asked you what you are?” He watched his brows get furrow, clearly a tad annoyed from his first answer.

“ I’m a human.”

“ Don’t lie to me.” Seonghwa grit through his teeth as Hongjoong shook his head back and forth.

“ I swear! I’m just a human man who has human parents and average human strength. There is nothing else to me. A simple peasant boy and nothing more!” Hongjoong yelled at him, his voice firm as he felt his head get pushed down near the ground.

“ Watch your tone.” The man above him said as Hongjoong tried to shake his hand off of him.

Seonghwa had glanced at his advisor. Hongjoong watches them have a silent conversation through their eyes for a minute before Hongjoong gets pulled up off the ground and made to stand on his feet. The bag he stole snatched off his hip as he watched the prince hang it from his belt.

He walked past Hongjoong, and the shorter male watched him before he shoved him to follow. The brown-haired elf gave him a look when he turned around. Hongjoong huffed as he just followed him, knowing very well that he can’t outrun them again. His legs were still screaming at him due to their soreness.

Hongjoong walked through the less crowded area that he ran through just some moments ago. He looked around at the brick structures, covered with vines, a few flowers blooming that he didn’t notice before that he found pretty.

“Don’t even think about trying to escape from us again.” He heard the elf behind him say as he turned his head behind to look at him.

“ Can I have your name?” Hongjoong asked, and he can tell that he threw the wood elf off. His brows raised enough to give himself away.

“Why would you want to know?”

“Well, it’s annoying to try and talk to someone without addressing them with at least a name. I was raised better than that.” Hongjoong watched the man’s face before he slowly opened his mouth.

“It’s Yeosang.”

“Well, Yeosang, I would like to tell you that I have no plans to escape because my legs are still screaming at me even now as we walk, so no, I don’t plan on escaping,” Hongjoong spoke, watching him all the same as he noticed they made it back to the Main Street of where he first ran from them.

Hongjoong watched the prince head back to the stands, and when Hongjoong went to follow, his shoulder was gripped tightly and turned in the opposite direction.

“I thought we were following the prince,” Hongjoong asked as he forced him to go in the direction of a carriage, opening the door to move him inside. He watched the elf say something to the driver before getting in himself and shutting the door.

“ We will be staying here until the young prince comes back from finishing his errands he was supposed to do before you foolishly stole from him.” Yeosang spat out, obviously still passed that he had to bring him here.

“Again, I am sorry for what I did, but I truly needed the money.” Hongjoong watched as that only made the other man more upset.

“You don’t have to steal from people to gain money. There are always other options. It’s the lowest of lows to steal from others.” Yeosang criticized him, and it slowly started to make him irritated.

“You know I have been trying to get a regular job since I traveled here three years ago. I did everything I could for a job and was denied every second I tried. I was forced to be homeless for six months, and I still struggle to find a solid job, even after someone was kind enough to offer me a home. I wasn’t raised to steal by my parents, but when the people and the city are so unforgiving to me every chance they get, am I supposed to accept it?”

Yeosang wasn’t expecting him to speak to him like that, and he tried his best not to have that shred of pity for him show on his face, “ Everyone has a hard time at some point in their lives. You haven’t seen anyone steal here.”

Hongjoong scoffed, and it made Yeosang turn his attention back to him, “ Just because you don’t hear or see anything doesn’t mean it doesn’t happen. I’ve seen plenty of them because we can all recognize each other.”

“It’s not that many of them. There’s always a group of bad people in a sea of good.” Yeosang rebuked, but Hongjoong was quick to respond.

“The line between good and evil and what is right and wrong can be blurred, and if you work in that damn castle, then you should know that very well. Not all the people who steal are bad because they have to choose to steal to make ends meet simply. If stealing were such an issue, there would have been reports about such, yet they never make a fuss because what’s pocket change to you is a fortune for us. Our values and lifestyles are the opposite of each other, so just because you can’t fathom the idea doesn’t mean you are right.”

Hongjoong didn’t care how reckless his tongue was. He wasn’t going to let some uppity wood elf, who only knows how to kiss the ass of the rich that has gold endlessly, fall into their hands. He can royally fuck off.

He saw it in his face.

He saw that he wanted to argue back with him, and he was ready for him to, but then the door of the carriage opened to reveal the prince holding a few things. He looked between the two of them with a raised brow.

“ Was there something that I missed?” He asked, looking at Yeosang, waiting for a response.

Yeosang gave him another look before turning back to the prince, “ Everything is fine. Do you need any help?”

Seonghwa nodded, passing the flowers and bags of fruit to Yeosang, telling the driver to head back to the castle before climbing inside next to Yeosang. Hongjoong felt the carriage move as he huffed.

He should have just listened to Eden. He told him not to get too greedy, or he would deal with the consequences.

But what else was he supposed to do?

Eden stuck his neck out to help him instead of living on the street for the rest of his life. Eden started by stealing until he could have enough to open his tavern. Since then, he had a simple life, and even when following the proper protocols, the city takes most of his earnings and barely has enough for his expenses.

He even makes sure to feed him and make sure that he’s well-nourished and is clean.

All he wanted to do was give the man that helped him start a new life after being forced to start over again, and he couldn’t even do that.

Hongjoong didn’t want to look sad in the carriage with the two elves, but the shift in his demeanor and facial expressions didn’t go unnoticed by the prince that stayed silent.

Seonghwa couldn’t wrap his head around what gave off that malevolent energy from the supposedly human male. It didn’t look like he could use magic, and he gives off no type of physical distinctions of being nonhuman. So what could it be?

He couldn’t help his c,urious nature about it. He hasn't come across someone like him, and he just had to figure it out for himself before he disposed of him.

The carriage stopped and Yeosang was quick to open the door for the prince and Hongjoong tried his hardest not to roll his eyes at his eagerness. The Prince stepped out first, and Hongjoong followed after Yeosang retrieved the purchases they made in town.

Hongjoong eyes scanned the massive structure in front of him, eyes glancing at the fountain in front of the building, slowly walking along the perimeter, mouth slightly agape.

He has always seen the manor from the tavern, and it was always quite beautiful from there, but seeing it in person was something different.

It was elegant and refined. It was truthfully exquisite, curious and Hongjoong found himself angry that he would have dreamed of something like this.

“If you're done daydreaming, follow me,” Yeosang said, making the smaller man turned to him. They both started to walk inside, and Hongjoong rushed to follow behind them, ignoring the side glances that the guards had given him.

The walls were massive, ceilings high with the sun gleaming on the stained glass from the colorful windows above them. Paintings of other high elves mounted on the wall that Hongjoong admired before he nearly bumped into the back of Yeosang.

He watched Seonghwa walk away down the hall, hair flowing behind him as Hongjoong found him watching the prince's body get smaller before he was plucked in the center of his forehead. Looking up, he saw the wood elf scowl at him.

“ Follow me, and don’t you dare try any unnecessary crap.” He scolds, and he ticked Hongjoong off for how he acted towards him.

“ I’ll follow if you tell me where exactly we are going.”

“ I don’t have to tell you anything.”

“ Then I’ll stay right here in this hall.” Hongjoong moved to the wall before sitting down on the floor, enjoying the irritated look on his face.

“ By the Gods, why are you humans so damn difficult?” He berated and it made Hongjoong give a dry laugh.

“ By the Gods, why are wood elves so damn stuck up?” Hongjoong retorted with a smile as he watched him get angrier, “ I promise I can be such an easy guest here and for you, but if you continue to be such a prick to me, I’ll make everything worse for you.”

Yeosang walked over to him and reached for his arm, pulling him up, “ I promise that I’ll cut your tongue off with my sword if you keep running your mouth like this.”

“ If you or the prince wanted to do something, you two would have done that by now. But instead, you brought me here. I don’t know why you both had brought me here against my will, but I do know that if he didn’t tell you to do anything to me, then you can’t.” Hongjoong shook out of his grip as they both stared at each other, “ Now start treating me with some common decency and then this can be easier for us both.”

Yeosang looked at the man up and down, thinking over what he said before mumbling something that Hongjoong couldn’t hear and walking away from the human, “ Just follow me to the living quarters.”

Hongjoong taking his time to follow behind him, a few feet behind him as he stared into the back of the wood elf’s head, “ Why am I going to the living quarters?”

“ Would you prefer the dungeon instead? You living with the other servants of the family sounds too generous in my eyes.” Yeosang looked over and nearly laughed as Hongjoong quickly shook his head, “ So, as I said, that is where I am taking you for now.”

Hongjoong was confused. He tried to steal from the prince and he didn’t lose any limbs. The dungeon would be the most appropriate place for him to be, but he will stay around the other workers who also live in this massive estate. It didn’t make sense to him, and it made him a bit uneasy since he feels that there’s an ulterior motive for doing this.

Hongjoong was led far down the corridor, passing other workers that greeted them and waved at Yeosang or ask him for quick advice that he happily answered. He could tell that they all looked up to the elf and valued his input. Yeosang also looked genuinely happy and satisfied to help them. So maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t as bad as Hongjoong seemed.

Yet again, the harsh behavior could be due to his sticky fingers grabbing the heavy bag of gold and running away when they gave him a chance to return it with no issues.

“ This will be your room until the prince says otherwise.” Yeosang pushed a door open and stepped to the side to let Hongjoong step inside. Hongjoong quietly walked inside, mouth slightly open as he looked at the beautiful room. He walked around the bed, admiring its size as Yeosang watched him from the door. Hongjoong hand touched the sheets and was amazed by how soft they were.

Hongjoong felt like this room cost way more than his life and his next two lives too.

He’s never been in such a place before and he couldn’t help but be stunned by its elegance.

“ Thank you.” Hongjoong’s voice was low, but Yeosang heard him, a tad intrigued by his reactions.

“ If you plan to thank anyone, then thank the prince when he comes by the room. Stay in this room until he comes back and tells you what you can and cannot do. I have other tasks to take care of, so I will be leaving you here alone. However, that doesn’t mean that you can do anything stupid and try to escape. If you try to leave, I will personally come after you myself. Do I make myself clear?” Hongjoong nodded as Yeosang spoke to him.

Hongjoong watched Yeosang close the door and his footsteps leading down the hall before it got quiet.

Hongjoong let out a deep sigh as he took his boots off as he looked around the room, his toes wiggling in the plush carpet underneath his feet as he never felt something this soft. He wondered what animal the fur came from.

He pushed it all to his mind as he walked around the perimeter of the room, hands dragging across the wooden dressers.

He pulled open the drawers to find some clothes sitting inside. He wasn’t sure if he should touch them or not. He doesn't want to give the tawny-haired elf any type of motivation to yell at him. Not that he cared, but more so that he didn’t feel like dealing with that.

So Hongjoong silently walked back to the bed and hesitantly sat down on its expensive sheets. They were soft to his touch. Fingers gliding with ease as he somewhat became enthralled with the material that he never experienced before. It was then that he decided to lay down on the bed completely.

He felt his body slightly sink into it, almost welcoming him with such ease that he closed his eyes for a minute.

Maybe it’s because he doesn’t know how long he would be able to touch such luxury. He exhaled before inhaling the strong smell of fresh cotton from the bed, and Hongjoong felt his aching muscles from running sigh along with him.

He would do anything to be with Eden and laugh around with the patrons of his tavern because that’s his home, but he can’t help but wish to be entangled in this lifestyle just a bit longer.

The moment Hongjoong’s body started to quiet down and convince him to relax in this unfamiliar place, the door opened suddenly, and it made him open his eyes and immediately sit up in the bed.

He greeted him with the face of the prince, who happened to be alone this time. You couldn’t see Yeosang at all from where he sat, and he didn’t see him in the hall either before he shut the door behind him.

It was quiet.

Both of them were staring at each other. Hongjoong, not knowing what to expect from the prince, sat back near the headboard of the large bed. Seonghwa's eyes were piercing him as it felt like he was planning something that Hongjoong had no idea of.

“ It’s good to see that you got comfortable enough for a nap here, but now I have business to talk to you about.” His tone was harsh, and Hongjoong knew that he better pay attention to what he had to say. “First off, I’ll introduce myself. I am the first prince of Crescent Hill and next in line to the throne, Park Seonghwa. What is yours?”

Hongjoong swallowed before answering him, “K-Kim Hongjoong.”

“So Kim Hongjoong is the name of the man who was foolish enough to steal from me in broad daylight?” Seonghwa started as he walked away from the door and made his way to the center of the room. Hongjoong’s eyes following him the whole time he moved, “ But this is now besides that point of you being a petty thief.”

“Then what is this about?” Hongjoong asked him as he adjusted himself on the bed. Hongjoong admiring his side profile before he stopped his pacing and turned his head in his direction.

“ What did I ask you out in the alleyway?” Seonghwa hinted at and watched Hongjoong rake up his brain for the answer before looking back up at the high elf.

“ You had asked me what I was?”

“ And I still need an answer to the question.” Seonghwa turned his body to face him completely.

Hongjoong huffed, crossing his arms over his chest, “ I did give you an answer. Whether you find the answer I gave earlier efficient enough is a problem for you and not myself.”

It was then that Seonghwa crossed the room very quickly and had slammed his hand beside Hongjoong’s head on the headboard. It startled Hongjoong enough to jump and stare up at the prince with wide eyes. His blonde brows were furrowed and his eyes were sharp.

“ You may have human strength and some human agility, but your aura says differently. I know I’m not wrong in this.” Seonghwa argued and he saw the confusion in Hongjoong’s expression once more.

“ What is an aura?” He questioned, a slight tilt of his head as he waited for an answer from him.

“ Aura is this very distinctive atmosphere that surrounds and is generated by a person, place, and thing. Whether it is small or big, there’s some type of aura surrounding everything around us. So that also includes humans, but usually, it’s a tiny amount of aura that’s produced from them, and they are all generally the same.” He explains in great detail as Hongjoong listens.

“ So, what is the problem with my aura?” Hongjoong looked up at the elf, now curious in his reasonings.

“ Despite it being faint, I sensed such evil and tainted aura coming from you that wouldn’t be possible for a regular human to generate. As much as history knows, it’s completely unheard, yet here you are.” Seonghwa gritted through his teeth, and it made Hongjoong glance down.

None of this made any sense to him. He was strictly human and nothing less.

How could he be walking around with a ‘tainted’ aura like this?

It made his head spin as the back of his head rested against the headboard. Seonghwa pulled his face away but was still fairly close as he sat down on the bed. He was still staring at him when he looked up.

“ I seriously don’t know how to answer your assumptions about me. I was born by human parents and was surrounded by nothing but humans for the most part. I wouldn’t know how this could happen.” Hongjoong’s eyes were cast down, still lost in thought as Seonghwa tried to think of some possible explanation.

“ You said you were surrounded by humans ‘ for the most part.’ So I can assume that you are around other beings besides them. If that is true, then can you tell me what type of species you commonly stayed around.”

Hongjoong gave an empty laugh as he looked back up at the prince, a look of agitation in his eyes, “ My old home had a small number of nonhumans who lived there peacefully, but there was a pair of demons who decided to make my life a living hell because I stopped them from hurting someone.”

Hongjoong crossed over his chest as he chewed on his bottom lip as he thought about, “ It was always stupid things and nothing serious, but the last time, they crossed the line and hurt me real bad.”

His mind flashed to that brutal beating. He heard their morphed voices and laughter echoing in his head until it overlapped, and he wanted to leave his mind. He was hearing Ava screaming for them to stop and to leave him alone. He was feeling incapable of breathing since he got slammed down. Remembering how weak he felt, how tiny he truly felt, and how hopeless he felt.

Seonghwa watched the look of pain and terror rise to his face, and it took him by surprise. The smaller male was squeezing his arms so tightly that he could see his blunt nails slowly dig into his skin. He could see him holding his breath and never exhaling.

“ Kim Hongjoong?” He questioned, hesitantly reaching forward to tap his leg.

Hongjoong was so deep in the nightmare replaying in his head that when he felt something touch him, he jumped back. Panicked, he looked forward and realized who was in front of him.

Wasn’t he in the alley?

“ Are you okay?” Seonghwa grew concerned for him. He knows nothing of what those demons did to him, but for them to cause a reaction like this from just thinking back to it.

Hongjoong finally took a deep breath and released his hold on his arms as they fell to his sides. He couldn’t find the strength to look up at him after all of that. His hand reached up to wipe away the tears that almost threatened to fall in front of the prince. It made him angry with himself.

Hongjoong didn’t want to show this man his weaknesses, but I’m guessing he couldn’t control himself as his mind had spiraled out of control. But maybe it had brought some clarification to him.

He was a human, but his aura was ‘supposedly’ evil.

Hongjoong had finally looked up at Seonghwa, who was patiently waiting for him to respond to him, “ Could aura be transferred to another person?”

Seonghwa brought up his hand to rest his chin in, “ Most of the time, beings that can control their auras usually place them on valuables or their territories, so no one bothers them. I haven’t heard of them placing their auras on other people.”

Could that explain everything? It could be the reason why it is so faint and why most people wouldn’t notice it. But again, what if he is just trying to trick him into escaping? Seonghwa doesn't think that he is that much of a fool, but he did steal from him.

Seonghwa looked back up at the man, “ When did that situation happen?”

Hongjoong ran his fingers through his hair as he tried to calm himself down slowly, “ I was 18 when it happened, and I’m 21 now.”

“ That sounds more than just aura. Do you regularly hang around such demons?” Seonghwa questioned him, watching his body finally ease itself against the wooden bed frame.

“ Demons and nonhumans never really scared me before, even after that incident. I haven’t been around any of them since I was here, but then again, some kinds hide in plain sight, and I wouldn’t know. Does aura not stay attached for that long?” Hongjoong tilted his head, and it made him look more childlike to the prince.

“ It’s unheard of as far as my knowledge, but I’ll figure that out for myself,” Seonghwa stood up from the bed and walked back to the center of the room, “ Because of my need to learn and comprehend everything, I want to figure out the mystery of this dark aura that surrounds you. You’ll be under surveillance for as long as that takes. I won’t bind you to this room and you're allowed to walk throughout the premises and you will be fed and bathed. Try and escape and I will put you down and just examine your corpse if need be. Do you understand, Kim Hongjoong?”

“ B-but what about my life outside of here? I can’t just stay here!”

Hongjoong is grateful that they aren’t killing him or taking any limbs from him, but he would rather be back in the tavern with Eden and the rest of the tavern’s patrons.

“ You should have thought about that before you committed the deeds that you did. Try if you must, but it would only result in death.” Seonghwa gave him a stern look. He knew he was serious.

Hongjoong couldn’t just run like how he did in town. This was a heavily guarded place with trained guards. He was royally screwed.

“ Oh, before I forget,” Seonghwa watched the smaller man process his words as he walked back to the door before looking over his shoulder. A grin that gave no sense of calm to Hongjoong’s nerves

“ Welcome to the Park Estate, Kim Hongjoong. I do hope you enjoy your stay.”

THREE WEEKS LATER

Several days had passed since he was invited ( very much forced) to stay in the royal family’s estate who ruled over the town he lived in.

It was honestly better than what he had initially imagined. The staff was told that he was new help, so he simply joined in with some of their duties.

With him joining with the help, he traveled throughout the massive home and had a bit of an idea of where everything was.

The left side of the estate was where the King and his family, meaning Seonghwa, lived. Some higher-up employees, such as Yeosang and some generals in charge of warriors, stayed there as well. There were some standard rooms like the study, the library, and meeting halls, but he knows nothing as far as anything else.

The center of the estate is where the main hall room was located and the kitchen and a few other rooms that he didn't know about. He only passes some of these rooms because he has to go clean some of these areas.

The right side of the estate was where he and the other staff members lived. Everyone had a bedroom, storage, and bathrooms, while some shared a common area. It was shocking to see so many staff there that were genuinely eager, let alone happy, to work for the prince and the family. Even though Hongjoong says that he can’t blame them when he bears witness to how well they are treated.

While Hongjoong truly wants to be back home with Eden, he did make friends with some of the other staff that managed to keep him hopeful and happy.

One of the friends he made was a young man named Subin. He’s been working there for a little over a year. Even though his main job is cleaning-related, he never voices any compliments and is usually in a good mood whenever he speaks. It’s always nice talking to him, and he gives him a good laugh when he needs one.

Hongjoong pretty much did a little bit of everything, even though he wasn’t supposed to. He was usually just supposed to clean a particular area that he was assigned for the day, but he would always end up helping the staff in the kitchen or tending the vast gardens. He even helped some of the warriors polish their weapons after battle and sparring.

Neither Yeosang nor Seonghwa predicted how fast Hongjoong would become well-liked at the estate, but that was just Hongjoong’s personality and friendly nature.

It was just another day Hongjoong had finished his tasks for the day and bored out of his mind. He was walking by the stained windows as he gazed outside into the town, wondering if he could see the tavern again before he heard loud giggles echoing the halls along with fast pitter-pattering of feet.

Hongjoong turned his head in the sound direction before he felt something bump into his legs and let out an ‘oof. Looking down, he saw two children, one on the floor and the other one catching up the other.

“I told you to be more careful!” The taller one yelled as the other one rubbed her nose.

Hongjoong squatted down to be her height as he tried to make sure she had no wounds or marks on her body, “ Hey, are you okay?”

The tiny child looked up at him and nodded, “ My nose hurts, but I’m okay!” She rubbed her nose before looking up at Hongjoong.

Hongjoong gave her a soft smile and also offered his hand to help her stand. The bigger child had watched Hongjoong help her up, “ Are you new?”

Hongjoong nodded as he looked at her, noticing how the younger of the two stared up at his face, “ I’m Hongjoong. What’s your name?” Hongjoong kept his tone light and friendly as the little girl smiled at him.

“ Elva!” She yelled, and it made Hongjoong giggle.

“ What a pretty name,” He looked up at the other child, “ And yours is?”

“ I’m Estel. She’s my little sister.” Estel watched her younger sister reach for him; arms stretched that had Hongjoong shocked himself. She watched him hesitantly lift the girl, and she smiled the moment that he did. Hongjoong had her body resting on her forearm.

“ Can you take us to the kitchen, please? We were on our way to get us some snacks.” Elva giggled as she waited for him to answer.

“ Well, you asked so sweetly, so how could I say no to you?” Hongjoong said as he started to turn his body before looking at the older of the two, “ Will you still be joining us?”

Estel shook her shock as she nodded as Hongjoong started to head for the stairs, Estel looping her arm when he walked. Estel watched her sister talk the man’s head off, still shocked that she trusted and got comfortable with the random man so fast in so little time.

Estel knew her sister was usually wary of any new person for a while, whether she met them or not. But this was the first time either of them had seen the man Hongjoong, yet there she was in the kind man’s arms.

Hongjoong didn’t notice the other sister’s stare as the younger talked his head off about the different foods she liked to eat, nor did he notice how some of the staff glanced at him to see the sister’s so close to him when he was barely in the castle for a month.

But they continued to walk down the stairs and made their way to the kitchen. Hongjoong used his shoulder to push the door open and peek inside, seeing a familiar face. The man turned his head after hearing the door, and he watched the man sigh.

“ What do you want now, Hongjoong?” He put down the knife he was using and stared at him.

“ Well, I missed you too Jin, but I wanted to get some snacks for myself and these two,” showing both sisters, and it made Jin widen his eyes.

“ Didn’t I give you two snacks earlier? Why are you back here, and you brought him back too.” Jin pinched the bridge of his nose as Hongjoong put Elva down.

“ Can’t we have a bit more Mr. Jin? Please?~” Elva ran over and clung to his leg.

“ If I keep giving you sweets and you fatten up, your mother and the prince will have my head!” Jin exclaimed as he rubbed his throat, and it only made her giggle.

“ We would never let him hurt you” Estel smiled as she eyed the desserts on the table that Hongjoong’s eyes also caught as he moved closer to the tray.

“ Jin, what type of dessert is this? I haven’t seen those before.” Hongjoong tore his eyes away for a split second to look at Jin with a childlike gaze.

Before Jin could speak, one of his assistants, Jaemin, came inside with an empty tray, “ Those are peach puffs.”

“They look fluffy and soft and look delicious~” Estel added as she and Hongjoong stared at each other and looked back at the tray. Elva was heading back to them, asking for Hongjoong to pick her back up, and he did.

Hongjoong knew the look that she had. It was the very same look he gave when he decided to steal from the prince.

Without a second thought, Estel snatched two puffs in her tiny hands, “ Grab one for Elva!” Estel yelled as Jin tried to run over to them.

Hongjoong hesitated for a split second before taking a puff as well and rushing out the door, hearing Jaemin’s laughter and Jin’s nagging.

“I make it up to you tonight, Mr. Jin!~” Hongjoong shouted as he followed behind the girl with her giggling as they ran. He knew Jin wasn’t going to chase him and just smack his hands when he sees him again.

They slowed down and sat down in the hall by the steps on the floor. He gave Elva her puff before placing her in his lap, smiling when she started munching on it. Estel handed Hongjoong his own, and you all ate the puffs quietly in the halls.

There was a sort of peace as you three ate the stolen food on the floor enjoying the silence as they enjoyed the sweet treat. The peaches were fresh, and the cream was fluffy. Hongjoong was enjoying his time with the sisters as his eyes were closed.

“Ddeonghwa!”

Hongjoong’s eyes opened as he watched Elva scurry out of his lap and run towards the blonde prince; his blue eyes were staring at Hongjoong, a stoic look on his face until Elva drew closer and he gave her a sweet smile.

A smile that Hongjoong didn’t know the man could take.

“ Now, what are you doing out here? Are you and Estel causing trouble? ” The prince’s voice was soft, maybe even delicate as he crouched down, opening his arms as she ran right into them.

“ We ate some peach puffs with Hongjoong!” She yells as she goes to feed the last bit of puff she had to Seonghwa, who chuckled and opened his mouth.

“ It does taste delicious.” Seonghwa smiled as Hongjoong watched with wide eyes.

Estel had gotten up as well, a big smile gracing her face as she ran over to hug him as well, “ Are you busy with duties for the rest of the day?”

“ No, I just came back from finishing my tasks for the day.” Seonghwa tucked her dark hair behind her ear as he spoke.

“ Can we go to the gardens then?” Elva asked with big doe eyes, hoping that the man would say yes.

“ Of course we can go. Would you like to go now?” Seonghwa tilted his head as she jumped up and down with excitement, a clear yes by her actions.

“ Oh! Can we bring Hongjoong with us too?” Estel asked and both Hongjoong and Seonghwa weren't expecting her to ask that. They both had looked at each other, not initially knowing how to answer it.

Hongjoong tried to help the prince as he’s stood up, “ Maybe I shouldn’t go with you all-”

“ Nooooo,” Elva runs over to him, clinging onto his leg, “ Please come with us, so can I show you the flowers there pleaseeeee.” She begged and Hongjoong felt like he couldn’t tell her no.

“ Join us, Kim Hongjoong. It’s quite hard to tell the little one no.” Seonghwa spoke, looking at him with eyes that were unreadable as Hongjoong eventually agreed.

The sisters eventually pulled both of them out towards the gardens, Seonghwa sitting on one of the benches as the sisters pulled Hongjoong around to the flowers that they found were pretty. Hongjoong stared at the white camellias and pink roses that Hongjoong found himself getting so enthralled in them as he reached out to touch them all.

Seonghwa watched from where he sat, watching Hongjoong’s movements as he noticed the childlike gaze he had just for the flowers, and Seonghwa found his face softening a bit.

They were just flowers. They weren’t too memorable or unique, but here was the tiny human being memorized by some vibrant flowers.

Seonghwa immediately found it foolish and childish in his mind, but something in the back of his mind found his reactions adorable, and the moment that it crossed his mind, he froze and shook his head back and forth to get rid of the thought.

He looked back up and realized that the sisters were pulling the man before, having him sit right beside him. He smiled at them as they told them they would get them both a surprise and ran away before either of them could say anything.

The moment the girls were far enough away from them, Seonghwa’s smile dropped, and he turned to face the shorter man, “ What ulterior motives do you have, Kim Hongjoong?”

Hongjoong giggled, his legs crossed as he leaned back onto the bench before turning to look him in the eyes, “ I was waiting for you to say something to me. I wasn’t expecting you to do it so soon, though.”

“ Answer my question.”

Seonghwa watched him roll his eyes before looking back at him, “ There’s no motive or planning. I like my life very much. Those lovely children ran into me in the halls after I finished my duties for the day. Elva asked for me to come with them to the kitchen.”

Seonghwa stared at him, nowhere near satisfied with his answer, “They don’t usually warm up to any new faces so fast. Perhaps, you used some type of magic on them.”

“ Wouldn’t such a high-ranked elf like you would have noticed any magic traces on them as you did with the tiny amount of dark energy on me?” Hongjoong raised his brow and it took everything in him not to laugh at the look on the prince's face.

It was a mix of shock and maybe a pinch of flustered as he watched him scramble to try and respond to him, his mouth opening and closing, not knowing what to say.

Hongjoong found that face more fitting on him than the stoic one he walks around with.

It makes him look younger. It made him look youthful.

It made him look cuter.

Huh?

“ I guess you're right….” The prince mumbled, not looking at him anymore

Hongjoong, being lost in his thoughts, nearly missed what he said, “ Did you just say I was right?”

“ I did,” Seonghwa answered, feeling Hongjoong lean closer to him.

“ Say it again.”

“ What?”

“ Say that I was right again.” Hongjoong pushed, moving closer to the elf, feeling their thighs touch.

“ No,” Seonghwa turned to the side. He felt the man close the distance between them again, and he was ready to yell at him when he turned his head around, but his voice died down when he noticed how close their faces were.

Hongjoong wasn’t expecting him to turn around either, and he knew the prince could see him visibly swallow as he also took note of their closeness. The last time he had his face this close to his face was when they were in his room, and he was threatening him with the sword.

But now, there were no weapons in sight. It was just the two of them, up close and personal. Hongjoong couldn’t stop his eyes from looking over the handsome face. He found himself admiring his cheekbones, the shape of his nose, and daringly eyeing his lips.

They looked pretty and soft before his eyes glanced back up to catch the pair of bright lapis staring back at him.

He was waiting for the man to yell for his staring and the lack of personal space, but it never came. He just kept eye contact with him, and Hongjoong wasn’t sure what he should do. He knew that he could see the faintest of blush coat his cheeks, and he was going to lose it.

By the gods, he was lucky to be broken from the trance as he heard the sisters yell for them as they got remotely closer to them.

Hongjoong was quick to move back to where there was a reasonable amount of distance between them, and he heard Seonghwa clear his throat and turned his head back away from him.

Hongjoong smacked his cheeks a bit before quickly putting on a smile as Elva ran over to him, her hands dirty from the soil as Estel came over with some flowers in her hands. Hongjoong picked the younger sister up and sat her on his lap, and Estel sat in between him and Seonghwa, which he was grateful for. “ What were you two up to for you both to have such dirty fingers?”

Hongjoong’s tone was light and bubbly as he took out a cloth from his pants pocket and gently took her tiny hands to clean them.

“ We found some pretty flowers and we pulled two up for you both!” She squeals as Estel hands them both a flower. It was a red Gardenia and Hongjoong brought it to his nose to smell, smiling when he did.

“ This is a beautiful flower. Thank you.” He gave them a big smile that they quickly returned, not catching Seonghwa looking at him once more with a smile that went unnoticed by the party as the children talked both of their ears off, but they didn’t mind as they sat in the gardens with them.

They both stayed there with them, idly talking and playing with the children, as they were watched from the window, their earlier interaction not going unnoticed as a brow twitched before walking away.

ONE MONTH LATER

It’s been about six weeks since Hongjoong was made to stay there in the castle, and the time he was having there was completely different from that initial week.

Especially when it came between him and the prince of the estate.

He found his eyes lingering on the prince whenever he walked past him, or he caught him after a lesson or meeting. Sometimes, he would see the prince meeting his gaze, and it would immediately make his face flash and have him quickly walk away.

He didn't know why he started to get so nervous around the elf prince, but he did. Ever since their trip to the gardens with the children, he hasn’t been able to look at him calmly.

Speaking of the sisters, Estel and Elva always tried to steal him away while he was doing his tasks for the day. Whether it was bringing in shipments from other cities to him having to clean the floors and windows thoroughly, they tried their best to steal him away.

The other workers found it amusing, never really minding if they stayed out, not as they worked since they never really caused anyone trouble, but they did find it odd how much they went to strictly Hongjoong and no one else.

Hongjoong had just managed to avoid the sisters, both feeling mischievous as they were messing with Subin before quickly asking where the small brown-haired man was.

It wasn’t that he didn’t love their company, but he just didn’t have the energy to play with them. Sadly, they didn’t give up that easily, and they were chasing him.

Hongjoong had some reasonable distance between these girls, them both giggling and smiling as they were trying to catch up. “ Hongjoong, where are you going?” Estel giggles and it took everything in him not to laugh.

He glanced around the halls, spotting a wooden door and quickly opening and shutting it silently as he pressed his ear against the door. Hongjoong heard the girls go past the door, quickly stopping when they couldn’t hear his steps or see him since it was a long hallway.

“ Where did he go?” Elva asked, confused as Hongjoong backed away from the door. He knew their hearing was better than his, so he tried his best not to make any sounds. His eyes never leaving the door until he bumped into something and a hand quickly covered over his mouth.

Hongjoong’s heart jumped into his throat as he tried to turn around and was greeted by those same hypnotizing blue eyes as he leaned to his ear, “ Say calm if you want the girls to leave.”

His voice was low and it sent a shiver down his spine, but he stayed still and quiet. He could still hear the girls talking right outside the door.

“ You think he went into here,” Elva asked, pointing to the door that indeed had Hongjoong right behind it.

“ I don’t think he did. No one is allowed in there and that includes Hongjoong,” Estel thought for a bit before the two heard a sigh. “ We lost him, Estel, so let’s go and get some snacks from Mr.Jin!”

Hongjoong heard Elva make this happy noise as she started to run off to the kitchen, Estel right on her tail as the footsteps and laughter slowly went away, and Hongjoong let out a sigh, unconsciously resting his head against his body and Seonghwa stiffened a bit.

Seonghwa stared to the top of his head, staying completely still and not knowing what to do for a minute.

Hongjoong, unknowing of him stiffening behind him, turned around to face him for a split second before looking past him, “What room is this?”

Seonghwa snapped out of it for a split second before turning around to look in his direction, “This is the castor room. This is where I study and learn new magic.”

Hongjoong walked deeper into the room, eyeing the tree and wood decor in the room, his eyes trailing to the colored glass that brought in the light that illuminated the room. Hongjoong eyes landed on the book that must have been where Seonghwa was sitting.

“So you plan on staying here, even though the young ones left you alone already?” Seonghwa walked past him as he sat back in the chair that Hongjoong was eyeing. He turned in his seat, leaning back to look at him and wait for his answer.

“ I won’t touch anything. I just want to watch you work. I finished my task for the day and I have never seen magic before, so I’m a bit curious.” Hongjoong admitted as he eyed the chair that was next to him.

Seonghwa thought it over, tempted to send him off so he could enjoy his time alone like he usually does. But glancing at the look on his face and eyes made him sigh and turned back around. “ Sit in the chair and don’t touch anything.”

Hongjoong sat in a chair, far away from Seonghwa and his work. Hongjoong eyes scanned the table and saw the books and vials that were over most of the table. His eyes were trailing up to look at the elf prince, who was focused on the text in the book.

His blonde hair pulled back this time in a ponytail, a few loose hairs as his eyes scanned over the text. His hand reached for the feather and dipped it in ink before writing some notes on his own, him noting how pretty his handwriting was as well before looking back up to his face.

Hongjoong doesn’t know how he found himself staring at his profile as he worked, despite wanting to bother him just a bit. He was just enamored with how the gods decided to sculpt such a beautiful-looking man.

He had to be honest. He found Seonghwa attractive. Yeah, he tried to kill him and take his fingers from him, but he was still hot.

Hongjoong chuckled to himself and the sound drew in Seonghwa’s attention, “ What’s so amusing over there?” He asked as he got up, grabbed some materials from a shelf, and brought them back to the table.

“ Would you prefer that I be honest?” Hongjoong asked.

“ I don’t like being lied to, so yes.”

“ I was sitting here thinking about how handsome you are.”

He almost dropped the materials in his hands.

“ Pardon?”

“ You told me to be honest and I said I was sitting here thinking about how handsome you were. Do you not know that you are handsome?” Hongjoong tilted his head, eyes glancing back at the other vials, his fingers tempted to reach out and touch them.

“It’s not that I don’t know that I have good looks, but that’s not what I was expecting to hear. But why would that have made you laugh?”

“ I thought that despite you threatening to take off any type of limbs, I couldn’t lie and say you aren’t attractive. I don’t think I can be good-looking anymore if I lose an arm.” Hongjoong smiled as he dragged his fingertips over the vials, despite being told not to touch anything.

“ A missing limb wouldn’t make you less attractive,” Seonghwa said bluntly, and Hongjoong wasn’t expecting that type of response. It made him stare at the icy blonde prince.

“ I’m sorry, what was that?”

“ I know you heard me loud and clear, but maybe those human ears of yours aren’t too good, so listen closely,” Seonghwa grabbed his collar, making Hongjoong yelp as Seonghwa ghosted his lips by the shell of Hongjoong’s ear, “ I said a missing limb wouldn’t make you less attractive, Kim Hongjoong.”

Hongjoong felt the blush cover his cheeks and a shiver run down his spine from having his voice and breath so close to him. His voice sounded more profound than usual, or was that just his mind playing with him? But this man. This prince had called him attractive and he didn't know how to react to that.

Seonghwa enjoyed the silence from the man as he let go of his collar and went back to focusing on the magic in front of him. He watched from the corner of his eye at how Hongjoong adjusted himself before getting comfortable and watching him work once more.

He enjoyed the sort of “ peace” that befell them both. It was comfortable and relaxing as the only thing Seonghwa could hear was him mixing the elixirs and potions and the glasses occasionally clinking together. But then his ear picked up on a sound that made him look over again.

He saw the tiny man with his head resting in his arms, lightly snoring. He watched his shoulders rise slowly with every breath, and tossed his hair slightly to the side.

Seonghwa marked where he was at last and closed his book before turning to face him fully. He slowly reached over and moved his hair out of his eyes. He pulled his hand back when Hongjoong moved before going still again.

Seonghwa found himself gradually leaning closer, basking in the scent that was rolling off of him. He couldn’t put his finger on it. He never had the chance to figure out what his smell was when he got close the last few times.

Seonghwa didn’t even realize how close he had gotten to Hongjoong’s sleeping face. His nose was almost brushing against him, and he didn’t fully grasp the idea that he wanted to kiss his forehead. But that sounds….wrong.

He shouldn’t desire to do such a thing, especially someone who should just be treated like a common thief. Everything in Seonghwa’s mind told him not to do it, and he knew his lips were inches away. All he had to do was inch a tiny bit forward and he would do it.

Just a tad bit closer and that’s it. Just that simple. But it still felt wrong.

It took a few seconds, but Seonghwa relaxed and looked back at the sleeping man before backing up in his seat. He knew better and he wouldn’t. Whatever urge he had will be swallowed and locked away since he knows it was wrong.

But at the very least, he petted his head and couldn’t stop the small smile as he leaned into his hand a bit.

Seonghwa enjoyed the feeling before he heard a quick knock on the door before it swung open. Seonghwa pulled his hand away fast and went back to grab his book, almost doing it in such a calm and collected manner as if he wasn’t petting the sleeping man.

Yeosang turned around and brought Seonghwa his tea with a smile before he stopped, his eyes immediately locking on the Hongjoong.

Yeosang did his best not to have his face falter as he walked over to the table, sitting the tray of fruits and tea down on a nearby table, “ I brought you some fruits and tea. I didn’t know you would have a guest, or else I would have brought another cup of tea.”

“ This wasn’t planned, but there is no need for that,” Seonghwa reached over and grabbed a strawberry and took a bite from it, letting out a tiny hum as it touched his tongue, “ But I appreciate the snacks. I was a bit famished.”

“ Then you should be eating something more filling.” Yeosang quipped, boldly stealing a grape for himself and popping it into his mouth as he saw the prince smile.

“Then do you know what is being prepared for lunch, Yeosang?.”

“ I can find out if you’d like.”

“ There’s no need for that,” Seonghwa stood up and went for another book on the shelf, “ You do enough for me as it is.”

Yeosang looked back at Hongjoong, sending the sleeping man a look that Seonghwa couldn’t see before fixing it as the prince turned around. Yeosang watched the head back to the table, seemingly comfortable with having Hongjoong stay beside him like that.

“ Yeosang, do you know what the rest of my day looks like? I didn’t meet with the King recently.” Seonghwa asked, eyes glued to the new book in his hands.

Yeosang stepped forward, on the opposite side of the table from Hongjoong, “ As far as today, you have to spar with the general and Lady Nora before dinner. Your schedule is quite free beside the event the King had planned that needs your actual attendance.”

Yeosang watched the man tsk as he looked at him, “ It is coming up, isn’t it? I don’t want to be there.”

“ I don't either, but you know we have no say for this one. You already have some attire being made; the seamstress is almost finished with that. You have the fitting tomorrow, and then the event is two days from now.” Yeosang explained as he heard another deep sigh from Seonghwa.

“ I don’t want to be in the faces of so many nobilities, especially with most of them being fools and not wanting to listen. You ask how to improve things, I tell them, and they don't listen or just resort to saying I’m a spoil and know-it-all brat that understands nothing. But if that's the case, why ask me for my input to begin with? This happens all night long, and you know this.” Seonghwa allowed himself to slip into his chair just a bit and Yeosang gave a small smile at the action.

“I’ll assist you the best way I can.” Yeosang bows slightly and Seonghwa gives a smile of his own before his head turns around when he hears a groan coming from his left. He watched Hongjoong stretch and sat up from where he was, yawning and stretching his arms. Hongjoong turned and looked over at Seonghwa before his eyes turned to look at Yeosang.

“ I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep here.” Hongjoong rubbed his eyes a bit and the prince thought it made him more childlike as he watched him.

“ I would have woken you up if it was a nuisance for me.” Seonghwa pointed out a comment that didn’t go unnoticed by the advisor, “ Also, while I’m thinking of it, there is an event that will be happening in two days, and you will also have to attend.

“Why?” He wasn’t expecting both Hongjoong and Yeosang to say it at the same time.

“ Only you and I know the real reason why Kim Hongjoong is in this castle, but to others, he is a mere worker. Just like the rest of them, he will be working and most likely be a server to the guests.” Seonghwa pointed out and Yeosang got quiet. Choose to say no.

Hongjoong knew he was right, and he didn't have a choice to say no in this type of situation. “I’ll do my best during this event.”

“ I expect you to.”

TWO DAYS LATER

“Never knew you could clean up so well, Hongjoong. Almost didn’t recognize you.” Subin teased, adjusting his clothes as he smiled at him.

The two of you had spent the day together getting everything ready for the event that’s happening tonight. You expected not to see the Prince and his advisor until the evening, and so far, you’ve been correct. After all the necessary preparations, the workers were all told to change and hurry back before the guest arrived.

Hongjoong eyed himself in the large mirror, admiring his appearance. He never dressed in something like this before, primarily to him not being able to afford something like this. He was dressed in white. A long-sleeved flint-colored top that was buttoned as that top before split down the center passed his belly button and stopped at his knees with delicate gold details that could go unnoticed. White pants that were a bit scrunched at the ankle due to his height, but nothing too bad to where he would walk on them. A high necked vested jacket latched at the top before flowing down and stopping at his thighs. The latch was gold, the edges of the material, and some white and gold shoes to match.

It was pretty simple in appearance, but it indeed was the fanciest thing he had worn. Subin was wearing the same color scheme but was designed differently. “ So funny, now let’s hurry up because we have to go back.”

“ Do you remember how to get there?”

“ No, not at all, so hurry up so you can show me how to get there.” Hongjoong laughed with Subin as they walked out of the room, following other staff that had to work.

If Hongjoong was honest with himself, he didn’t want to help any rich and stuck-up assholes tonight, but he knows he can’t say that out loud. Luckily, Subin would be there with him to brighten the mood.

Jin told them to station a table on the end, and you two were happy to be stuck together.

You both watched how quickly the hall filled up, countless demons, monsters, and humans all dressed in the finest of silks and fabrics to impress each other, and it took everything in Hongjoong to not roll his eyes. He believes that they might get stuck in his head if he did so.

But he did what he was told along with Subin, serving any and everyone that approached their tables. He was a bit shocked when some thanked them but wasn’t surprised by the judging looks he did receive.

Hongjoong found himself getting tired fast, having Subin kick his shin once in and while to keep him up. But soon enough, that kick felt like nothing.

“ Hongjoong, wake up! The prince has arrived!” Subin whispered yell as they both turned towards the more oversized doors.

Hongjoong straightened up and had his eyes glued as he finally got his first look at the King and Queen, Seonghwa’s parents. His father gave off a regal aura; His hair flowed down to his mid-back. He was dressed in black, white, and gold. Hongjoong could see some of the finest jewels adorning his neck apart from his attire.

His eyes went to Seonghwa’s mother and she must have been the most elegant woman he has ever seen, dressed in layers of silk and expensive fabrics that flowed around her beautifully. Her beautiful headdress and intricate hairstyle made her shine like an actual jewel.

But then his eyes landed on the prince, and it felt like his breath got caught in his throat. He was adorned in all black, a great contrast to his pale skin and blonde hair. His attire was flowy as well, similar to his mother’s. As he saw them walk past, he noticed embroidery of dragons on the sleeves and along the collar and hem of his clothes.

His eyes followed him as he walked behind his parents, having Subin smack his arm once more to gain his attention once he noticed some guests walk to their table. But no matter how many times Subin had to slap his arm, he found his eyes going back to Seonghwa.

Maybe it’s because admiring the prince’s beauty made him focus enough to stay up now after seeing countless forgettable faces. But then it became something more familiar when he noticed Yeosang heading to the table.

His pants were plain and straightforward and just white in color. He was dressed in this black vest with a high collar. The seams are traced in white trim, and wearing black and gold cuffs on his wrists. This other piece was a fabric matching his shirt and had a white border and some gold.

“ Mr.Kang, I wasn’t expecting you to come by,” Subin said with a smile, and Hongjoong watched the corners of Yeosang’s lips curve upwards.

“ It’s good to see you as well, Subin.” Yeosang turned his head to look at Hongjoong, and he noticed a slight change in his gaze, “ Nice to see you too, Hongjoong.”

“Anything that you would like?” Hongjoong asked him as Yeosang’s eyes scanned over the array of foods, leaning over to look at it all before standing up once more.

“ I’ll come back later since I’m not quite hungry yet. I plan on seeing you two later then, so make sure you two enjoy yourselves later on.” Yeosang told them before heading off just as quickly as he arrived.

Subin was distracted for a split second when another guest missed the quick change in Yeosang’s face. His eyes narrowed, a frown on his lips before turning his head once more to head back to Seonghwa.

Hongjoong found it odd. He knew the advisor wasn’t fond of him and would prefer if he was dead, but the look in his eyes this time seemed more intense than before.

He just pushed it to the back of his head before he felt Subin smack his arm once more, this time to get his attention as Jin arrived. “

“ You both are done for now. Eat and relax. Just don’t cause any trouble for me, or I’ll have your head. “ He threatened before pushing both of them away, Hongjoong laughing a bit.

“ Now you know you would mourn my death. I’m quite fun to be around.” Hongjoong joked as Jin kicked his ankle as they both stumbled away laughing.

Hongjoong and Subin had made their way to some of the other workers that were switched out to eat. It was away from the more high-status guests, but Hongjoong preferred that.

He has fun and enjoys his time with them. Maybe it’s because this was something that he wished he could have back in his hometown with Ava. Perhaps he’ll get some money and get her to visit.

He knows that’s not a realistic plan, but he could dream.

“ Did he zone out? Oi Hongjoong!”

Hongjoong looked up and realized that Eric, one of the other coworkers that he has made friends with, was calling him. “Hm? What is it?”

“Did you hear anything that I just said?” The younger asked and Hongjoong gave a sheepish laugh before saying no. The boy rolled his eyes before giving him a look.

“ I said that soon with have to go from table to table and collect and dishes and trash from them,” Eric explained, and Hongjoong couldn’t stop the look that appeared on his face.

“ Why can’t they get rid of their trash?” The words flew from his lips quicker than necessary.

“ Look, it's a party for the rich and they are all guests of the family. They aren’t supposed to lift a finger for anything as trivial as cleaning up after themselves.” Eric says sarcastically, a grin on his face as he ate more food, “ You knew what you were getting into when hired here, Hongjoong, so don’t get stupid now.”

“ Aren’t I older than you? Who are you calling stupid?” Hongjoong brow raised and gave him a look that Eric wasn’t fazed by.

“ If you know you aren’t stupid, don’t get offended by it. But seriously, Jin or someone higher up will have your head if you're disrespectful to them. So even if they do something, bite your tongue.” Eric gives him an honest look and Hongjoong huffed.

Subin pats his shoulder, “ It should be fast since most of us are doing that, so don’t worry too much. Okay.” Subin gave a dimpled smile and Hongjoong let out a small smile of his own.

He enjoys this. Bickering and smiling with each other felt very on end and it’s a bit bittersweet that it’s with people that he just met and not his parents. Well, with his mother, yes, but it would be nice if his father were included in that as well.

Before he knew it, they were all splitting up which tables they were going to and grabbed some carts before heading off.

Hongjoong took a deep breath before putting on a fake smile and approached the first table. His greeting was friendly and respectful as he asked if anyone was done with their plates. Some raised their hands and he came over and collected everything that they were finished with. He made sure not to make eye contact with them despite a few leering into the side of his head.

Hongjoong was quick to bow before leaving and dropping his smile the moment he was gone. He nearly mumbled something under his breath before remembering that no humans were sitting at these tables.

So Hongjoong continued this pattern with a fake smile, cleaning and leaving until he reached this last table. He could tell that he was an elf by the pointed ears, and the man was sitting there all alone.

“Excuse me, sir, but are you finished with your food? I'm here to collect your dirty dishes if so.”

The man tilted his head up and gave a light smile, “ Don’t your cheeks hurt from smiling like that? I gave you no reason to smile and neither did those other snot-nosed nobles. Relax and treat me like normal.”

“ I’m sorry, but I-”

“ I may be a royal, but I'm nobody to them. I would rather be treated regularly than a noble,” He turned in his seat before putting his dirty plate on himself as Hongjoong just stared at him, “ I didn’t catch your name. What is it?”

He shook his head as he looked at him, “ my name is Hongjoong.”

“ Hongjoong. That’s a different name, but I like it. I’m Prince Gerold, but I don’t need any formalities. Gerold is just fine.”

“ How could you tell that my smile was fake?” Hongjoong asked, stepping a bit closer to the man.

“ Cause you gave the same type of smiles that I do.” He rested his head in his hand as he glanced back to Hongjoong, “ Please sit, or you can’t waste any time chit-chatting with me?”

“ Well, I’m not supposed to do anything that would upset the ‘royals,’ but since I’m not upsetting you, it should be fine.” Hongjoong watched the smile grow a bit bigger on his face.

“ Well, then let’s sit and chat only for a little while. Maybe this event won’t be as boring as anticipated.”

༄༄༄

Seonghwa was tired.

He was ready to call it a night the moment he stepped into the grand room. But of course, being the son of the current king kept him occupied and busy.

He had to answer to some neighboring townships as well, as they praised him with cheers about what a great king he’ll be, and by the gods, was Seonghwa tired of the repetition.

There were questions on what he would do once his father steps down and how many children of his own he plans to have or if he has selected a queen.

Soon to Seonghwa ear’s, their voices became inaudible and would only pick up a few words that would remind him of what the bloody hell they were talking about.

While some of the guests started to talk to themselves, Seonghwa’s eyes swelled across the crowd as he was quick to stop once he saw a familiar brown hair at a table.

He watched him talk to one of the nobles. It didn’t seem like it was anything terrible because Hongjoong looked utterly relaxed.

But the more he stared, the more he realized that he looked a tad bit too relaxed.

He was able to see how close they were to each other as they talked about whatever. He could see the other person putting his arm on the back of Hongjoong’s chair and give a grin.

He couldn’t read their lips, but he did know that something had made Hongjoong laugh, and the smile was genuine. It made his heart jump a tad bit before remembering that it wasn’t directed towards him. It was someone that he just met and made him smile big like that.

Fascinating.

“ Prince Seonghwa?”

Seonghwa turned back to look at the guests in front of him, “ Yes, what is it?”

They pointed to the glass in his hand, and his eyes followed suit and noticed how tight his grip was on the glass. It caught him off guard cause he never saw his grip tightening. He placed the tall glass down on the table.

“ Are you okay, Prince Seonghwa? Did we say something to upset you?” Seonghwa could see the concern on their face and he snapped out of the slight haze he was in.

“No, it wasn’t you. However, I do have some business that I need to handle. Please enjoy this event to the fullest.” The prince gave a slight bow and smiled before quickly heading off, his feet with a mind of his own.

༄༄༄

Maybe nobles weren’t all too bad.

Hongjoong knew he was supposed to be working, but he couldn’t find himself getting up and ending this conversation. Prince Gerold had a charm about him that just made him stay. Maybe it’s because he was somewhat of an outcast among the nobles and he just seems a bit more humble in a sense.

He found himself smiling and laughing as they talked, not noticing how close the man had gotten or how friendly they would look to any guests. He was just hoping that he wouldn’t get into too much trouble.

“ Hongjoong, can I asked you something?” Prince Gerold tilted his head as he looked at him.

“ Of course. What is it?”

“ Would you like to leave this party? It’s not quite as interesting as you.” Prince Gerold grinned.

Hongjoong wasn’t expecting him to ask such a question. He wouldn’t mind being with him a bit longer, but he knows very well that if he leaves after all this, he might get killed by Jin. or even worse. Get killed by Yeosang.

“ Oh, I don’t think I can. I’m supposed to be working right now, to begin with, so if I leave, I’ll get in tro-” Hongjoong breath hitched when he was pulled a bit closer to him by his chair, catching him off guard.

“ Come on~ We could walk through the city or the gardens and just have a good time. You don’t wanna spend that time with me?” Prince Gerold’s smile was sweet, but maybe it felt a little too sweet that made Hongjoong want to leave, but he couldn’t. It felt like his legs were made of steel.

“ B-but I have to-”

“ I thought we were having fun together. Just for a little bit. I promise to bring you back before this shit of a party is.” Prince Gerold grabbed his hand gently, a complete opposite from the tone, despite being laced with sweet words. His thumb rubbed over his knuckles before bringing his hand to his mouth. He placed tender kisses on each one. Hongjoong wanted to pull his arm away, walk away and deal with all forms of scolding from Subin and Jin, then stay here. Even though he thought that he couldn’t move. Was it fear? Was he scared again? He just wanted to leave.

“Let’s go. I’ll sneak you out to avoid any trouble.”

“Well, it’s a bit too late for that now, is it?” Hongjoong watched how quickly his eyes looked up and passed him, and despite still not being able to move, he knew who was behind him. He knew that voice well enough.

“Ah, Prince Seonghwa. A great party you have here. Not my cup of tea, though, so I planned to leave here with this lovely muse, so if you don’t mind.” Prince Gerold stood up, still holding Hongjoong’s hand. He wasn’t expecting to stand up with such ease when he struggled to do it with his willpower. Hongjoong finally glanced over at Seonghwa as Prince Gerold tries to walk past him.

Hongjoong felt his shoulder get gripped on, and it felt like lightning struck him the moment the elf prince touched him. It made his ears ring, then his spine tingled, and his toes curl before he was finally able to pull his arm away. He faced Seonghwa in shock, but his gaze was rigid set on the other prince in front of him.

“ You went out of your way to compel him? You lured him in with such a fake smile and tried to snatch him off somewhere else. Truly pathetic.” Seonghwa's voice was cold, and he enjoyed the way his lip twitched as he spoke to him, “ You have some nerve bothering my workers.”

“ Now you're saying that as if you care about all of your workers.” He smirks as he crossed his arms.

“ Why wouldn’t I? Their hard work made this event as successful as it is. I owe them all some proper gratitude for their efforts, and it’s just a shame that they still have to deal with something as rotten as you.” Seonghwa stepped forward, right in front of Hongjoong and gave him such a cold glare that made the smirk fall from his face and replaced with a scowl.

“ You watch who you're talking to!” He growled out and Seonghwa laughed in his face.

“ Oh, and what would you do? Did you forget that part of the land that your father owns was a gracious gift from us? Did you forget how much we helped you and your father get to where you are? We hand-fed you everything, and it would be just as easy to make you starve. Be foolish enough to doubt my bluff, and I will personally ruin you. You need us. We don’t need you.” Seonghwa’s aura crackled, and it made the other Prince step back even more from them.

“All of this fuss and threats over one of the hundreds of workers?!”

“ For your information, I hand-picked this one, so yes. Now I suggest you leave like previously intended,” Seonghwa grabbed Hongjoong’s rest and started to walk away. Hongjoong turned around to at him before Seonghwa’s voice cut through the air, “ Don’t look at him.”

Seonghwa walked fast and scouted the area before stepping up to Subin and tapping his shoulder. Subin turned around and nearly dropped the plates he had in his hands. “ Prince Seonghwa! W-what can I do for you?”

“ Take care of the rest of Hongjoong’s work if you don’t mind. I need him for something else more important.” It was then that Subin noticed Hongjoong behind him, and it looked like Subin was trying to get a sense from him about what happened, but Hongjoong sheepishly looked away.

“ Of course! I’ll get right on it.” Subin bows before heading past them and Seonghwa continues to pull Hongjoong out and out the doors, not going unnoticed by the prince’s advisors as he gives a sharp gaze with furrowed brows.

Once Hongjoong believes that they were far enough from anyone, he spoke up, “ Seonghwa, where are we going?….”

“ Just wait. We're almost there.” Seonghwa gave a short response as he guided them through halls that Hongjoong had never been down before; he opened a door and pulled them both inside before shutting the door. That’s when Seonghwa finally let go of his wrist and slumped against the door.

Hongjoong watched how the prince’s back and shoulders slouched before looking up at him. “ Are you okay?”

Seonghwa made a small smile, “ I should be asking you that. A nonhuman just compelled you. The longer you stayed there, the more control he would have had on you.”

Hongjoong looked at his hands and legs, moving them slightly, “ I thought it was fear again. I thought I was that scared and couldn’t move. Not because of magic.”

Hongjoong missed the soft look he gave him as he stayed by the door, “ No. It was magic that a good variety of nonhumans know. If you can use magic or have any items to help you comply, it is quite easy to do. Humans usually fall prey to it naturally. Folks of magic sense other magic, so it would never have worked.”

Hongjoong gave a tiny smile, “ That’s good to know, but that just reminds me of how much weaker I am to everything.”

Seonghwa pushed himself off the door and stood in front of him, “Humans can learn magic too if they practice hard enough. The only way you can stop being weak is if you put the time and effort into being strong. You don’t just need to be physically stronger to beat someone. There are other ways, and I'm sure you would be capable of it.”

Hongjoong looked up at his eyes and let out a laugh, “ Who would have thought that your words would give me some comfort,” Hongjoong rubbed the back up his neck and stared at the ground, “ Thank you.”

“ There’s no need to thank me.”

“ Yes, there is. I found myself in some trouble and I was lucky enough that you were there to help me. I’m sorry for causing trouble and making you leave the party. I’ll—I’ll take whatever lecture or punishment for everything.” Hongjoong stared at his hands.

It could have gone a completely different way and Hongjoong didn’t even want to think what would happen if no one came over to stop him.

“ I was forced to attend this party. I’m the next in line to the throne, so of course, I had to be there. I would have rather hid than talked the same nonsense with all of those guests. And did you think I dragged you all the way here just to lecture you?” Seonghwa raised a brow as he gave him an amused look.

Hongjoong looked back with a confused look, “ Then why did you drag me here? Was it just a chance for you to get away from this event?”

Seonghwa walked past him and headed towards the window, the moon illuminating his skin in hair and almost making him glow, “ Maybe you do have some magic because I don’t know why, but you have been compelling me all on your own.”

Hongjoong slowly walked towards him but kept some distance, “ What does that even mean? Whatever you have to say, just say it.”

Seonghwa never turned around, “ I’ve developed some feelings for you.”

It was silent. No sound was made as they both stood in the same spot. Seonghwa expected this type of reaction and silence, so it took the silence to elaborate more.

“ I don’t know when it started, but I can be honest enough to say that I have developed some type of feelings for you. Maybe it started when I watched how caring and nurturing you were with Estal and Elva and how much they genuinely adored you. I was worried about you manipulating them, but they seem smitten with you. Most people don’t like them because of their mother, but they’re innocent in that matter.”

Hongjoong quietly walked over as Seonghwa continued to talk, just listening to the words that came out of his mouth.

“ Then I started to notice the little reactions and thoughts I would have about you. I didn’t think I could do it after stopping the last time I had feelings for someone. But then you came along, stealing from me in broad daylight and slowly stealing away my heart before I even knew it.” Seonghwa turned slightly to see Hongjoong just a couple of inches behind him.

The prince turned to face him, “ I came over there not because I knew you were in danger. I originally came over there cause my heart couldn’t stand the image of you smiling at someone else. I nearly shattered a glass when it ran through my mind. Like I couldn’t allow it and that’s out of character for me.”

Seonghwa could sense it. His honesty was overwhelming Hongjoong and that’s not what he wanted at all. He could feel and see how tense he was as he stood there.

“ I’m not asking you to recuperate my feelings. I threatened you into staying here and I can’t blame you for hating me. I…I just wanted to get these words off my chest. Don’t feel inclined to return them. You have my word on that.”

Hongjoong finally looked up at him, “ I don’t hate you.”

“ You don’t?”

“ I don’t. Everything you did was logical, especially after what I’ve done. I just don’t know how to take someone saying they ‘care’ for me.” Hongjoong walked towards the window, looking out at the moon-casted town as Seonghwa watched him.

“ Did you not come from a loving home?” Seonghwa asked as he saw Hongjoong frowned at first before giving a smile.

Hongjoong pressed his hand to the glass, “ In the end, my mother cared the most about just one other person and me. So in a sense, yes, I did. But I’ve never had someone admit having feelings for me. I just don’t know how to respond.”

“You don’t have to. That’s what I’m trying to tell you.” Seonghwa gently placed a hand on his shoulder and was happy that he didn’t tense up from it.

“ You sure?”

“ I swear on it.”

Hongjoong turned around to face him. They both stared down at each other, but Seonghwa’s eyes glanced down to his lips before forcing himself to look away, “ What is it?”

Seonghwa shook his head, “ I don’t want to ask that of you. I can’t ask that from you.” He was speaking more to himself and was about to ramble until Hongjoong gripped his chin and made him look back at him.

“ What did you want to ask me?” Hongjoong’s voice was as firm as it could be as he looked up into those ocean eyes of his.

Seonghwa stares for a while longer before letting out a sigh, “ Can I kiss you?”

Hongjoong was hesitant as he twiddled with his thumbs, “ I haven’t kissed anyone before...”

“ Then maybe you shouldn’t waste that on me. I just wanted to ask.” Seonghwa turned around and started heading towards the door, “ You can stay here until the party ends. I must head back to-”

“ It wouldn’t be a waste….” Hongjoong shifted on his heels

Seonghwa stopped, “ That’s not a yes. I’m no creep. I won’t do anything to you unless you give me a solid yes.”

“ That’s embarrassing for me to say!”

“ Embarrassing to want consent?” Seonghwa raised a blonde brow and Hongjoong grew quiet. He took the silence as an answer and as his hand reached the doorknob.

“Please!”

Seonghwa looked back at the man and noticed the faint blush on his face.

“ You...you can kiss me.”

Hongjoong listens to Seonghwa’s footsteps as he walked towards him again. “ Look at me.” He heard Seonghwa’s voice as he slowly looked up at him. “ Are you sure about this?”

Hongjoong hasn’t felt this nervous before. He wasn’t being pressured into anything. He had complete and utter control of this situation, and as much as he was worried about this, he found himself wanting it as well. “ I am, but you might have to guide me.”

Seonghwa gently tilts his face up and Hongjoong’s eyes looked up at him, “ You can tell me to stop at any time.”

Hongjoong nodded as Seonghwa slowly closed the distance between them. His eyes fluttered close when he felt his breath against his lips. He knew he could probably hear his heart pound. Seonghwa stroked his cheek with his thumb as his lips pressed to his.

His lips were soft against his. Hongjoong felt himself relax as Seonghwa pulled back slightly, opening his own eyes, and found Seonghwa staring back at him. They were quiet as they looked back at each other before Hongjoong leaned forward and Seonghwa leaned back in to kiss him again.

Seonghwa moved his lips slowly, so Hongjoong could learn how to kiss. Hongjoong tried his best to follow him, steadily getting better as Seonghwa cupped his face. Hongjoong found himself slowly reaching up to grip his shoulders. He relaxed more as he started to kiss him with a bit more force, catching Seonghwa off guard a bit.

He pulled away to look at Hongjoong, panting a bit as before speaking, “ Maybe...that’s enough for now.”

“ B-but…”

“ I’m afraid that I’ll do something more if we keep going, so let’s not continue this.” Seonghwa put some more space in between the two.

“ I want to keep going, though.” Hongjoong found a small amount of confidence as he looked at him and Seonghwa gave him an unreadable look.

“ Don’t say something like that to me. I’m trying to have some self-control. Don’t do this because of me admitting my feelings. What you're doing is more than enough. Don’t feel pressured to do anything with me.” Seonghwa's voice was harsh sounding, but Hongjoong wasn’t offended by it.

“ I’m not asking you to have self-control. I want more too. I’m not pressured. I feel comfortable and relaxed right now. I have the confidence right now to say this out loud, so don’t let it go to waste.” Hongjoong stared at him with flushed cheeks before slowly walking to the bed and sitting on it, “ I’ll tell you to stop if I have to. Just make sure your self-control is as good as you say it is.”

Seonghwa gave him a look before walking to him, standing in front of him, slowly pushing his body down on the bed and hovering above. Seonghwa could see how relaxed he was and could sense how confident he was in his choices right now. He feels hesitant, despite Hongjoong giving him all the consent he would need. His fingers flexed beside his head, and now he felt his heart pound. It was only when Hongjoong gently grabbed his wrist, forcing him to look at him.

“ It’s alright. I told you it’s okay. Don’t chicken out on me now, or I’ll feel silly about all this.” Hongjoong gave him an awkward chuckle as he reached to cup his face and brings him closer to him.

Seonghwa closed his eyes for a split second before looking back at him with a soft smile, “ Don’t go regretting this in the morning, Kim Hongjoong.”

༄༄༄

Tagging: @atiny-piratequeen @gettin-a-lil-hanse @queen-of-himbos @jacksons-goddess-gaia @kimnamshiks

༄༄༄

©atiny-dazzlinglight 2021. do not repost, translate, or use my works without permission

[avaritia-apotheosis]

Phantom Children [DP x Batman Crossover] Ch. 2

In which: Danny thinks, Talia is concerned, and we finally see Ra's al Ghul's pride an joy: the Lazarus pit

AO3 | Prologue | 1 | [ 2 ] | 3 |

---

DANNY COUNTS THE DAYS by the hours he is in the monitor room. One hour is all that he is allowed. One hour after a day of learning and fighting, of ‘yes ma’am’ and ‘no sir’ and ‘stand up straighter, boy’ and ‘remember that you have feet.’ Of being handed a sword only to have it knocked out of his hand (pickitup-pickitup-pick-it-up). Of ‘here’s eight plants, only one of them is the antidote to the poison you just ingested, and you better hope you remember the difference because this is the life you live now, Danny.’ This is what you agreed to for some time in front of a few television screen.

One hour. Sixty minutes. Three thousand and six hundred measly fucking seconds was all he got to see his family before he’s ushered back to his room. Dark. Barren. Windowless.

God, when was the last time he saw the stars?

He spent his multitude of ‘one hours’ simply watching. That was all he could do, really. Watch and collect snatches of Amity—of Before. Like torn pieces of an antique photograph, unable to be restored but too precious to throw away.

Talia would call him too sentimental. Danny would love to remind Talia that if it wasn’t for her and her freaky older-than-dirt dad, Danny wouldn’t even need to be fucking sentimental.

Breathe in for four. Hold for seven. Breathe out for eight.

Repeat.

Repeat again.

One more time.

There’s a voice in Danny’s head that sounded too much like Jazz telling him that this kind of behavior was unhealthy. The Jazz in Danny’s head didn’t exactly know why, though they’re both pretty sure that constantly watching your family and friends move on after your death probably isn’t good for one’s sanity. Especially since Danny isn’t really dead.

Well.

Dead-er.

He isn’t—

(family-love-mememe-why aren’t they looking harder-don’t they care-they care-for their own good-what about-happy-no-me-them-me-them).

Truth be told, Danny isn’t angry that everyone in Amity seemed to be getting on with their lives. God, he’s seen how his suppsed-death affected them. He can’t—he won’t be responsible for holding them back from living when he can’t even be sure if he’ll ever be able to return to Amity again.

(He’s seen what happens when someone refuses to move on. Hell, the Zone is full of it. It’s either you obsess with grief…or you try to rip it out of yourself entirely.)

Danny wanted them to live on. Be happy. (With him.)The FentonWorks portal remained under constant vigilance, and since Pariah Dark, most ghosts recognized Amity as his haunt and tended to stay away. With any major threats he could only hope that Clockwork would step in somehow and at least keep it contained. Tucker and Sam were more than capable enough to handle most of his regular rogues gallery, especially if Red Huntress was backing them up too.

Amity…didn’t really need Danny anymore to protect it.

(Family-happy-protectprotectprotect-what?-safe-not safe-not needed).

For all that they tried to find out, Danny, Sam, and Tucker never did manage to figure out what his ghostly obsession was. Sam went out on a limb and said Heroism which…wasn’t quite right but fit the bill well enough.

And what was the point of heroes?

To build a world where they aren’t needed.

------

There was a noticeable shift in her son’s demeanor after he learned of the true nature of his parentage. Though it should be noted that while Talia showed a photograph of her beloved to Daniel, she did not disclose his true identity as to Ra’s al Ghul’s orders. Her father reasoned that it was more advantageous for Daniel to develop a closer connection with the maternal side of his family as opposed to the Waynes—a name that would be more familiar and thus better viewed than the strange people who kidnapped him.

No; ‘Recovered’ would be the most appropriate term. Daniel was her child. Would always be her child, no matter who raised him.

Daniel was…quieter. Somber. His eyes glazed yet sharp—blue eyes bloodshot despite maintaining a regular sleep schedule. Like pit madness with neither the madness nor the pit; simply the look of rage that bubbles beneath the skin, close to boiling over yet never there.

He continued to watch his false family obsessively. Yet…he had taken to watching Talia as well. Quietly. Unobtrusively. Small glances at the corner of his eye. Contemplative looks with furrowed brows whenever he presumed she did not notice. He had even taken to meticulously check his reflection in the mirror; pinching cheeks and turning his face this way and that, cataloguing his features as if to find what parts of him was from her—or perhaps if there was any part of him that ever resembled the paranormal scientists he once called parents.

Even if the physical similarities were not there, the DNA testing—regardless of the anomalies found in Daniel’s genes—was proof enough that he was her son.

“You have been keeping with your diet regimen, yes?” Asked one of the League’s physicians. He pressed his gloved fingers against Daniel’s skin, brushing the ridges of his ribcage. Marring her son’s skin was a large, faint scars. Fractals branching across his torso like the branches of a gruesome tree. “You are still too thin.”

“Fast metabolism,” Daniel mumbled. He is sat on an examination table in their medical wing, black shirt neatly folded beside him. His figure, though not skeletal, per se, was gaunt. His ribs poking from his pallor skin, stomach still concave for a boy who ate double the portions than any other member of the League of Assassins. “I’ve had it since the accident, but it’s never gotten this bad.”

The physician hummed, jotting his notes down along side the results of Danny’s vitals. The exact numbers were unknown to Talia, standing as she was by the door, though she could infer the results from previous physical examinations. (Low blood pressure and core body temperature. Faint pulse, slight tachycardia,) “Do you have any ideas why?”

Daniel’s lips thinned, eyes darting to the side as he always did whenever Phantom was related in anyway. His face was too open; Talia needed to train him out of that. “My…” He took a deep breath. “Ghosts aren’t supposed to stay very long in the Material world. It lacks the ectoplasmic energies that helps them ‘stay alive,’ so to speak. Usually they can supplement some of this by filtering some of the ambient energy in the atmosphere to strengthen themselves—it’s why Amity was such a hotspot for ghosts because of the large concentration of ectoplasm in the atmosphere—but it still isn’t a good long term solution.”

He scratched the back of his head. “Since I’m still somewhat human, I’m able to spend way more time in the Material world and can substitute spending days in the Zone by instead filtering ambient energy and eating.”

The physician made another noise, the tip of his pen tapping against the side of the clipboard. “So I take it then that, as your other half doesn’t have access to this ‘ambient energy’ as you call it, it is forced to take what energy it needs from the calories you’ve consumed, yes?”

“Basically.”

“What will happen if you do not have enough calories to supplement this energy?”

Danny shrugged, a rueful smile on his face. “Dunno. Maybe this time, death will stick.”

Talia narrowed her eyes.

Such a thing will not happen. She had been forced to give up on Daniel once, and then later on she lost her youngest to her beloved. Never again.

This child was hers.

------

“Father, did you not say that the anomalies found in Daniel’s DNA were similar in composition to the Lazarus pit?”

Ra’s al Ghul did not pause in pause in his reading to look up at Talia. The bird shaped magnifying glass held steady above the ancient manuscripts spread across his desk, eyes focused on the words and figures carefully inked onto the page. “Yes.” He set aside the magnifying glass and gently flipped the page. “It is what strengthened my belief of the connection between the Lazarus pit and these spirits.”

Talia straightened. “With your permission I would like to place Daniel into the pit.”

Her fathered looked up, curious. “You forget what the pit does to those who are in good health.”

She placed the results of Daniel’s most recent physical exam on to of his desk. Ra’s sat back in his chair and idly flipped through the folder, reading the contents as if no different to reading the newspaper instead of how his grandson is slowly being starved by his own biology. “Well, well. This would be a problem.”

He closed the folder, a wry grin curling at his lips. “Have him ready for tomorrow. I am curious as to how the pit would affect one already half-dead.”

------

Danny is awoken by Talia sometime the next day. “Come,” she said. “You do not need to change, so come quickly.”

He got off the bed with a silent groan, rubbing the sleep from his eyes with the heel of his palm. “Where are we going?”

“Not far. Somewhere that will help you.”

He snorted. “Letting me go home would help me.”

Talia doesn’t answer, simply waiting for him at the door. Danny groaned, combing away as much of his bedhead with his fingers as he followed her.

For the first time since being dragged to Nanda Parbat, Danny is allowed to venture beyond his small section of the compound.

He didn’t really know what to expect.

Still didn’t stop everything from being so…anticlimactic.

Beyond the steel door, normally kept locked and guarded by two of his shadow guards, was a hallway. Endlessly long with a wide pathway, lit enough by the fluorescent lights overhead but not enough to banish the shadows that clung to the stone walls. The hallway looked empty. ‘Looked’ being the key word, here. Even if he couldn’t see them, Danny would bet on his half-life that the shadows were teeming with life.

Talia led the way through the maze of twists and turns (were they underground?), a couple of shadow guards quietly following behind them.

“Are you going to tell me where we’re going?”

Talia looked at him from over her shoulder for a moment, then turned away. “Have you heard of the Lazarus pits?”

“Lazarus? Like the guy who came back to life?” Neither of his parents were really religious. His dad only really Baptist in name because he was born into a Baptist family that, too, wasn’t overly strict in their religion. The only reason why Danny knew of this Lazarus guy was because of Mr. Lancer’s unit on Greco-Roman and Christian allusions.

Talia nodded, turning a corner. “The Lazarus pits are natural pools with restorative properties, capable of rejuvenating the body, healing grievous injuries, and even bringing the dead back to life.”

Danny nearly tripped over his own feet. “What? That’s—” Impossible. He ran up to Talia, wildly gesticulating with his hands. “What’s dead is dead. Resurrecting the dead goes against the natural law of the universe!”

“Well, you seem to be doing fine.”

He frowned, crossing his arms. “That’s different. I’m still dead, even if my entire existence seems like the but end of a Schrodinger’s joke.”

“Be that as it may, what I speak is truth.” She stopped in front of a door and opened it. Then, stepping aside to usher Danny in first. “See of yourself.”

Danny stepped inside, Talia following behind him, and—

Oh.

Before he even saw the pit, he could feel it. A low and steady hum reminiscent of the ghost portal. But…different. Not necessarily fainter but garbled, like hearing someone speak underwater.

The room was a large, open space, with stone walls framed by red wooden pillars. It was dim, lit only by the green glow of the pit that consumed the majority of the space. A square pool of too-clear waters and toxic-looking steam rising from the surface.

The waters felt of the Zone but…not.

“Ah, Daniel.” He nearly jumped out of his own skin. Ra’s al Ghul stepped out of the shadows behind him, hands folded behind his back. The green glow highlighted the sharp contours of his face; the shadows that clung to him only making his visage harsher. “It is good to see you.”

Danny greeted the Demon’s Head with a League salute. “Grandfather.”

The word felt foreign on his tongue despite being in English. To formal for a boy who never really had the chance to interact with his own grandparents. But Danny was told to refer to Ra’s like this, and so he did. (He was only grateful Talia didn’t insist on calling her ‘mother.’)

Ra’s al Ghul was an enigma. Centuries old yet he looked only about a decade older than his mom and dad. (Jack and Maddie Fenton will always be his mom and dad. They raised him. Loved him, in their own eccentric, science-y way. No blood test or adoption or ninja-assassins could change that). Like Danny’s still-unnamed biological father, Ra’s carried himself with theatrical purpose. Comically villainous in his attire and grand gestures, though unlike Vlad, Ra’s had this overwhelmingly intimidating presence that engulfed whatever room he stepped in.

Ra’s was a man that commanded attention as opposed to demanding it. And now, at the focus of the man’s calculating gaze, Danny could not help but stand stiff at attention.

“You’re mother was right,” Ra’s said. Danny barely restrained himself from perking up at that word. “You are wasting away, Daniel.”

Tell me something I don’t know.

“Well, at least you still have that fire in you.”

Danny startled, slapping his hand over his mouth. Shit, he didn’t know he said that out loud. Out of the corner of his eye, Talia suppressed a small smile.

“You have that in common with the Detective,” Ra’s continue, circling Danny like a carrion that spotted its next meal. “That and the rather foolish notion on not properly reporting the extent of your injuries.”

“With all due respect, grandfather, I wasn’t expecting on staying here for this long.”

Ra’s gave him a knowing look. “But something is keeping you here, isn’t it?”

“Keeping my family and friends hostage is a pretty good motivator, apparently.” An insidious thought bubbled in Danny’s mind. But that isn’t all, is it?”

“I have consulted your mother and your physician as to the nature of your condition, and I have decided that the Lazarus pit would be a sufficient way to restore your health.” He gestured to the pool. “It appears that your DNA shares several similarities to the composition to the Lazarus pit.”

Danny crouched at the edge of the pit, hovering his hand above the water’s surface. “It’s because it contains ectoplasm. An impure kind, I think.”

“Will the impurities be harmful to you?”

He pursed his lips. “I don’t think so? My body can filter out the impurities just fine, it’s just that I’ve never encountered thistype of ectoplasm before. It’s so clear and—aqueous, I think is the word.”

There’s a strange glint in Ra’s eyes. Dare Danny say it, it even looked mischievous. It made him uneasy, and just as Danny made a move to step back, Ra’s al Ghul picked him up by the collar of his night shirt—

And threw Danny into the Lazarus Pit.

[gethporno]

Hi! I thought your tags about orientalism and Joe as "the unchanging other" were really interesting; I hadn't considered that angle before and I love the idea of Nicky and Joe growing and developing together. I'm curious what kind of growth you'd like to see Joe do to be with Nicky. I like to think that Joe is bit passionate/hotheaded, and that Nicky helps him to pause and think a moment before he acts. Would love to hear your thoughts!

I love this question! I don’t think there’s any one ~right answer here, since, you know, fanfic is personal and all, but also we know way less about what Joe used to be like than we know about Nicky, so there’s not much to go on in terms of extrapolating a character arc. Sorry that this got SUPER long!

My starting assumption is that Joe has always been - idt if passionate/hotheaded is the right way to describe it? More like, impulsive, acts without fully thinking through the consequences, idealistic. But I agree! I think when he was young, he was the kind of person who probably thought he was immortal, because he would take risks that somehow always paid off, which probably gave him a real sense of invincibility. So like, why not take up marine trading at a time when it was extremely dangerous, given the overall shitty conditions of the Mediterranean + piracy? Why not throw himself into a conflict in the Levant that he could theoretically have walked away from? And then when it turns out he actually is immortal - why not fall in love with the first dude he sees? Why not dedicate his life to saving the downtrodden? He’s the kind of guy that just gets caught up in the excitement and the romance of whatever he’s doing, and doesn’t think much about the consequences, especially when they might be...bad.

What I mean is, at the time that he met Nicky, he probably wasn’t thinking a whole lot about what it would entail, in the long run, to fall in love with a Christian man who came to the Levant for the explicit purpose of either converting or killing (but let’s face it, mostly killing) Joe’s people. Especially because - let’s be clear here - Joe would be pretty unfamiliar with the whole concept of religious hatred. Nicky might’ve grown up being told that Muslims were the enemy, but Joe almost certainly wouldn’t have been told the same about Christians. So there’d be the unanticipated clash in entire modes of thinking, and no matter how hard he tried, I bet Nicky would’ve been unbearable for like, a long fucking time, even as he tried to undo his own programming.

So the first thing I think Joe would have to learn was patience. With himself, with Nicky, with the whole rest of the world. Because one of the real pitfalls of immortality is that you really have to learn to live with your mistakes. You’d realize really fast that there’s no reset button, and there’s nowhere else to go if something doesn’t work out. I feel like Joe would be learning for the first time what failure feels like, and he’d have to fight his own impulses to just give up and do something else. Like, the first time he argues with Nicky about something serious, first time he realizes he’s never going to get to go home, first time he picks a side and later realizes it was the wrong one - he thinks, why am I doing this? If this is all there is, why do I bother?

And I don’t think Nicky teaches him the answer to those questions. I think Nicky offers answers, and they probably fight about it, a lot, but over time I think that means that Joe learns:

- that you can fight with someone and still love them

- that you don’t have to run from every mistake

- that you should, idk, maybe, count to ten before saying something if it’s unkind

- holding a grudge is probably a bad idea when you live as long as they do

- you can’t torture yourself over the things you couldn’t have known

Because I feel like, without Nicky, Joe would’ve been a lot more impulsive, impatient, careless, despairing. I don’t think he needed to lose those traits in order to be with Nicky (vs. how Nicky basically had to stop being a xenophobic invader fuelled by his own sense of self-righteousness in order to be, properly, with Joe) but I feel like those are his edges that Nicky would smooth out simply by sheer force of will, because Joe would let him, because he’s likewise reshaping Nicky.

But I feel like people are SO concerned about not portraying Joe in a racist manner that they sort accidentally do, because they don’t let him have his rough edges, ever. He ends up characterized as this endlessly patient man who will wait for Nicky to unlearn all his prejudices and preconceived notions, who pines with quiet dignity, who has always known exactly who he is and what he’s about, with no room for him to grow with Nicky. While not as overtly harmful as a lot of the racist shit that this fandom produces, it’s still racist, because it sets Joe apart from Nicky, as someone essential to Nicky’s growth but himself immutable. And that’s orientalism, babey.

[kunstpause-archive]

Wip Wednesday

I am still writing bg3, have another snippet

Thank you @elveny​ @hobo-apostate​ @in-arlathan​ @ashalle-art​ and @noire-pandora​ for tagging me ❤

Astarion gives her a curious look. “I am not condemning you for the things you like. Not one bit,” he says, sounding remarkably earnest for a moment before a smile spreads over is face and he runs a teasing finger down between her collarbones. “After all, I share quite a few of your tastes, one way or another.”

“Yet you mock me endlessly.” Kara sighs. His touch sends goosebumps over her skin. “Am I really to believe you do not judge me?”

At that, Astarion lets out an amused snort. “Darling, I say what I say to you because you like it.” With a shrug he keeps skimming over her skin in featherlight touches as he continues, “Besides, I am willing to bet most of these things you tell yourself pretty regularly whenever you want to feel particularly bad about yourself.” 

Kara’s protest gets overruled by a soft moan as he cups her breasts and squeezes gently. 

“I am only telling you what you want to hear in the heat of the moment,” Astarion murmurs. “But I certainly don’t judge you for any of it.”

“That’s… a quite sophisticated sounding approach to the whole thing.” Kara tries her hardest to form a coherent answer under his terribly distracting touch.

“Well, what can I say?” Astarion chuckles. “I am a very sophisticated man.”

At his gleeful tone, Kara can’t help but scoff. “You are also a man who is very full of himself!”

He outright laughs now. “Actually, it would be you, that…” he starts and Kara scrambles up with a groan, stopping him mid-sentence by firmly clasping her hand over his mouth!

“Nonono, don’t you dare say it,” she huffs. “Not one more stupid joke!” 

She is waiting for him to give in when the way his eyes crinkle in amusement gives her pause, and a second later she draws her hand back with a small yell that is more shock than actual pain. Full of disbelief, she looks at the small bit of blood on her hand, where his fangs have cut into her skin.

“If you want to stop me from talking, you have to do way better than that, I’m afraid.” Astarion smirks at her before he lets himself fall back onto the bedroll and drags her on top of him. 

The small sting on her hand is already forgotten as Kara finds herself looking down at his infuriating, yet oh so inviting looking smile.

“I guess I have to switch bedrolls with Eris if I want to get away from your comments then,” she jokes, only to realize a second later that all she did was give him more ammunition.

“Are you sure you want to switch, though?” Astation’s voice is full of mischief as he winks at her. “Perhaps use the opportunity to ask for a sleep-over instead.”

When Kara simply narrows her eyes in annoyance, Astarion chuckles. He runs his hand over her back, following the line of her spine with his fingers to draw idle patterns on her skin.

“You know, you could just tell her you simply want to fuck her,” Astarion suggests bluntly before he gives her a telling look. “You’d be surprised how often that works.”

tagging, with no obligation of course @jentrevellan​ @jennserr​ @curiousthimble​ @cartadwarfwithaheartofgold​ @elfyourmother​ @allycryz​ @midnightprelude​ @anchanted-one​ @tishinada​ @queen-kass-the-writer​ @a-shakespearean-in-paris​ @wardenari​ @blarfkey​ @dalish-rogue​ @charlatron​ @coffeebird-eccentric​ @hollyand-writes​ @paisleybees​ @thefoxinboots​ @enigmalea​ @another-rogue-trevelyan​

and anyone I forgot who wants to do it. ❤

[bisexualklausmikaelson]

and all the magic we made (8/?)

a/n: another short update! enjoy!!

-

The sun, in all its ways, surprises Rebekah Mikaelson to no end.

She used to think - the universe revolved around her - all the planets aligning perfectly just to accommodate her utmost desires.

Be it the most expensive jewels, gowns from all over the world, even the hearts of countless men.

Well, every man except the one right in front of her.

"Marcel," she sighs, as he paces towards her while she waits outside Hayley's grocery store. "Is there something you want?" She wonders, tilting her head to one side.

He crosses his arms around his chest, sighing. "You know," he says, "stalking someone is considered a crime," he goes on with - referring to Rebekah's presence in Hayley's workplace.

She rolls her eyes at his constant infatuation with this mere girl - one with not a hint of make-up on her face, with the same old jeans she's had since their high school days, with her greasy hair in a high pony -

"I just wish to speak with her," Rebekah rephrases, biting her bottom lip, "she has my niece hostage, after all," she chuckles.

"She's her mother," Marcel reminds her, "she has a right to keep her away from you."

His words hurt her more than he'll ever know - she doesn't understand why he insists on being so crude to her. What had she done to deserve such distain from him? She wondered.

"Why do fight this hard for her?" Rebekah asks, sounding weak. You never fought this hard for me, she doesn't say but he knows that it's implied.

"Who do you think has been helping her raise Hope, all these years?" He retorts, feeling even more defensive. "If it weren't for me, she would've been all alone."

This feeling - the guilt - Rebekah truly hates it.

"She could've told us, we would've been there for her," she whispers softly. "She kept such a huge secret from me, I thought she was my friend."

And, for a moment, Marcel's clear vision of Hayley Marshall is suddenly clouded. He sees Rebekah, the pitiful girl he has always known.

"She didn't know how to reach you. All the Mikaelsons disappeared after graduation," he recalls, "you didn't even say goodbye to me," he unexpectedly releases.

Just then, Rebekah is quiet.

It takes her too long to realize that she had broken his heart first.

"I'm starting my shift soon," he abruptly tells her, as he rushes out of her way. "Please don't pester Hayley while I'm gone." He begs and he's off.

Rebekah focuses her gaze back on Hayley who is on the other side of the window.

Right, she was here for a reason, after all.

-

(Marcel's words ring in her ears - all the Mikaelsons disappeared after graduation - she wonders how he knows this. He must have tried to contact them, he must have looked around for years.

Rebekah's envious of her brother, at least he's got an easy explanation. His dream of being an artist, his ambition, his passion, his successes.

He left this dingy little town and made something of himself.

While Rebekah just became someone's ghost).

-

Her shift feels a lot longer than usual - Hayley isn't one to complain too much at work, she does as she'd told, clocks in and out on time. Her co-workers are not exactly her close friends but, they're the kind that don't bother her too much and truth be told, she prefers it that way.

She likes to maintain her distance from people.

When she can anyway.

"Oh good," unfortunately, Hayley doesn't have the luxury to choose who she can and cannot keep at bay. Not when the Mikaelsons are involved. "You're finally done," Rebekah sighs, trailing after her.

Hayley continues to walk away, ignoring the blonde until, she grabs her by the hand.

"What do you want now?" Hayley asks.

"My niece," Rebekah insists, squeezing her hand tight. "I am going to meet her, whether you'll allow me to or not," she demands.

Klaus' tone invades Hayley's mind - these two siblings really are way too alike. "You Mikealsons really don't understand what boundaries are, do you?" she comments, jerking her arm back.

Rebekah widens her eyes and tilts her head to one side. "What's that supposed to mean?" she asks and a blush rising to Hayley's cheeks immediately gives her away. "Did something happen with you and Klaus?" Rebekah deducts.

Hayley unexpectedly thinks of the softness of his lips - how warm they were.

"Did he kiss you?" Rebekah suddenly figures out.

Hayley bites down on her tongue. "That," she curses, "Doesn't matter," she tells her.

The other girl takes a step closer, clutching her hand over her chest. This was it - her way in, her way to get closer to the woman before her. She was vulnerable.

"I know this might be difficult to believe but, he has changed - despite everything you might think of him," Rebekah softly says. "Klaus is-"

"I know," Hayley cuts her off mid-sentence. "He's this famous artist now right? He's got fame, fortune, everything he's ever wanted," she continues, smiling.

Rebekah smiles too, she thinks of her brother's countless hours studying and perfecting his work, their father's discouragement, how Klaus overcame it all. "That's right," she nods.

Well, almost everything, she thinks, offering Hayley a curious glance.

"And where do you think that left me?" she finally breathes, sounding hurt. "Stuck in this little town, raising his kid." Hayley reveals.

Rebekah feels a sharp pain in her chest - she had been so blindly loyal to her brother.

She hadn't realized that the girl before her was just so incredibly broken.

"Now how do you think that makes me feel?" Hayley shouts, before bravely walking away from her.

-

(Her daughter is her entire world - her reason for getting out of bed in the morning, her reason for living.

Hope is her everything.

Even though, just now, she sounded like she felt regretful about her decision to keep this child. There was a hint of jealousy in her tone - that Klaus got to go on and have this amazing life without having to worry about raising a kid.

She feels immensely guilty for her anger - for ever thinking that things could've been different).

-

Klaus calls her endlessly -

Yeah, he messed up, big time.

That kiss was - untimely at best.

Maybe a bit tasteless but, he couldn't say that he'd take it back.

After all, he's waited so long to feel her lips against his once again.

He wasn't going to let go of her so easily.

-

That night - Marcel is the one who comes to her doorstep with a box of donuts (sour cream, her favourite) and warm cups of coffee (chocolate milk for Hope, of course).

Hayley leans against her door, letting him in.

He was so reliable, even on her worst days.

"How did you know?" she laughs, taking the cup of coffee from his hand. He follows her inside, setting the food down on the table.

"That you were having a rough day?" Marcel shrugs. "You weren't answering my calls - you only ignore me when you're really upset about something," he tells her - thinking of all the small instances where she had been angry enough to ignore even him.

At times, Marcel had been her lifeline, her most reliable friend.

So when she didn't answer him - it really worried him.

"If you say so," Hayley simply says, failing to realize his amount of care for her.

He's used to it - painfully so. "Well, we don't have to talk about it if you don't want to," Marcel releases, sounding sad.

He is grateful that just then, Hope runs into the room, like a tornado.

"Uncle Marcel!" she shouts, running towards him and grabbing his leg. "I'm so happy to see you!!" she cheers, happily eyeing the donuts and chocolate milk he brought her.

He smiles, reaching down to pick her up. "Same here, Hope," he says, as her sparkling eyes meet his. God, they really are all he needs to help him feel better about his day. "You want to play some video games together?" He asks, happily.

"Yeah!" Hope nods, leading him towards the living room.

Hayley watches how content they are together and can't help the amount of relief she feels in her heart.

(She'll never truly know how much Marcel actually means to her - that he is indeed, always there for her).

-

[fletchphoenix]

He’s Helpless

so i saw @betrayedtraitor ‘s post about Donella being the ultimate mom at the varigo wedding and couldn’t resist writing some supportive Donella :)) enjoy! I’ll try to link the OG post but ya!

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

Donella was happy.

Sure, Hugo had fucked up royally and betrayed her in order to help his boyfriend open the Eternal Library and, consequently, get possessed by her old partner, but he had found his happiness. She wasn’t one for sappy shit like soulmates or changing yourself at the last minute for the one you loved in order to make them happy - she used to despise it and think it was some bullshit trope for lonely people to indulge in, but somehow her son had well and truly proved her wrong.

She’d trained him up since he was a child to be the exact model of what she was - a thief. She taught him how to defend himself from attackers if he had to, how to steal and remove any trace that he was ever there, hell, she’d even trained him that the world was cruel and unforgiving, and that any hope you had would be crushed in an instant. She taught him love was simply something that people used to build you up and make you think you had purpose before they revoked it almost immediately. She really thought he’d accepted her ideals fully.

And then Varian came along.

Of course it would’ve been Ulla’s son to change her son’s mind. He’d inherited the moonstone blue, wide and curious eyes that his mother had, and her obsession with alchemy that she’d also passed on to her son. Maybe that’s why Hugo had gotten so attached to him, having someone so similar to his age and with the same interests, of course after years of having just Donella around him who was interested in alchemy, he’d instantly connect with someone else with that very interest. 

It didn’t surprise her when Hugo had told her that he and Varian were together romantically. In fact, she had a bet going with Cyrus to see how long it was taken (which, by the way, she’d won, thank you very much) and supported the couple endlessly. They were adorable together, the pair clearly loving each other more than anything else in the universe and willing to do anything for each other.

What did surprise her was how long the proposal took. It took far too long for the pair to finally decide to propose, Donella was sure she’d turn to ash before they even decided to bring up the option to each other. So when it happened, needless to say she celebrated silently and tore into Hugo as though she were a starving animal and he was a piece of meat.

“I am very disappointed in you, Hugo. Very very disappointed.” She declared, pacing across the marble floor in the hallway, the heels of her boots clicking against it as her son gripped onto the hand of his now-fiance. They must’ve been scared, both boys shaking in each other’s arms before she turned her head to look at them. “I mean, really. You’re my son and you didn’t even propose first! I seriously can’t believe it! You seriously took so long that he had to take matters into his own hands!” 

“Oh my g-Mom, you literally had me terrified!” Hugo complained as he leant forward, frowning at Donella and kissing Varian’s forehead as Varian cackled from laughter. Donella smiled softly and subtly as they held each other, nodding in approval towards her son-in-law before turning her back to them.

“All jokes aside, I really am happy for you two. I’m just disappointed it took you so long considering how many hours I’ve sat through you gushing about Varian and how he’s the ‘only person in the world for you’.” Hugo’s face flushed at that comment, his fiance smirking as Donella chuckled. “Anyway, get back to the party.” She ushered them back in with a smile before the widest grin in her life appeared on her face and she headed back in.

It was her proudest moment for her son to come to her for advice about her vows, though she’d never expected for his original draft to be so...long. She swore he’d been going on and on about the boy’s freckles for a whole month before finally moving on to something else. It was her fault - she’d tried and tried and tried to stop the boy from talking too much when he was a child, though it was a habit he never broke out of. He made a massive deal about a lot, and though it was useful in their previous line of work, they were good, (mostly) non-thieving people, and the need for an overbearing and..very weirdly specifically detailed explanation of something was no longer a necessity. 

“You’ve been talking for 40 years about freckles, Hugo. Just-come here and let me show you how to do it.” she complained, leaning forward and taking a quill, dipping it generously in some ink before proceeding to examine the speech. Editing and crossing things out left,right and centre, she finally settled back with a sigh and looked at her son. “I know you love him, Hugo. I can tell. But seriously, some of this is just...not needed at all.”

“What do you mean?” the blonde asked cluelessly, sitting beside her and fixing his tie, “I think all of it is quite relevant.”

“You talked about how he snorts when he laughs and how many freckles he has, followed by a detailed description about their shapes, sizes and if they join together to make a constellation. That..it’s sweet but I felt like slamming my head into a wall and praying that it knocked me out completely for three days. Just...try something like this.” She began, picking up some parchment from the table and beginning to scribble down some notes, handing the sheet to her helpless son. “That can be your starting point.”

Hugo took a glance at the paper, cringing at the monotonous words on the page. “I...okay, these are truly something else. I’ll keep that in mind, thanks.” He muttered, before something flashed over his face. “Oh ma. That reminds me. Me and V have been talking and uh..we wanted to know if you want to officiate the wedding. We thought you’d be the best pick for it so...what do you think?”

Donella’s heart soared at the prospect, though her face would never reveal the true extent of her emotions. Her son was really giving her the honour of officiating the wedding after everything that had happened between them. A tear must’ve welled in her eye, as Hugo’s face shifted into a frown. “Ma, are you okay? You..you don’t have to do it.”

Hesitantly, she pulled her son into a tight embrace, the boy seeming stunned before reciprocating the hug and holding onto her. “Yes-yes I’ll do that for you, Hugo. It would be an honour.” Donella declared, her face buried in her son’s shoulder as she let a few stray tears loose.

She was so proud of him when he read out his vows without a hitch, the abridged version of the original speech was marginally better thanks to meticulous planning from their combined efforts. “Are you crying, ma’am?” Cyrus questioned as her son stood hand in hand with his husband at the altar, their fingers intertwined and looking picture perfect, almost as though they were in a dream.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Cyrus.” the woman declared as she raised a tissue to dab at her eyes while the ceremony continued in front of her. Hugo’s eyes shone with pure joy, matching his husband’s gleeful expression as they finally exchanged rings and shared a kiss with each other. She could even hear their friends, notably the Queen, King, Star princess and Firecracker (as Hugo had declared them) cheering and laughing out loud as they finally tied the knot.

And though she would later deny it, she still indulged herself in a few glasses of wine and rambled on and on about how Hugo was as a child, despite his pleas and begs for her to stop. She couldn’t help it - she was a mother after all and she was sure Ulla would’ve done the same if she were here.

Still though, as she looked at her son and the way he shared his first dance with his husband, he knew the pair were destined to be together, and that fate truly did exist as well as soulmates and all that lovey dovey shit she had been so quick to deny prior to their meeting. So as Donella leant back against the body of her once-henchman Cyrus, whose other arm was wrapped around his wife, she accepted the fact that she was content with whatever the future had to hold for the pair.

Donella was happy.

[clairecrive]

“Why?” Alfie Solomons x reader (part 2)

You’ve asked for it and here it is! I’m not too sure about this but oh well. Hope you like it, can’t wait to hear your thoughts!

Tag list: @deaflikehawkeye​, @mollybegger-blog​, @br0ck-eddie​, @innerpaperexpertcloud​. @evelynshelby​, @fandom--0verdose​, @shadow-of-wonder (let me know if you wanna be added)

“Sorry to interrupt. I need a word with the lady.” Not really minding about politeness or good manners, Alfie limped towards Y/n and Peter. Luckily for him, they were dancing at the edge of the room so he hadn’t had to walk among the crowds and their interaction could be as private as they needed it to.

They stopped dancing, facing the intruder. Peter didn’t even acknowledge him, turning to y/n instead. He knew who Alfie was and what was his role in this game, still, he waited for y/n's approval. Y/n didn't think that Alfie would actually come up to her. Nonetheless, she was curious about what he wanted to say to her so she nodded, letting Peter know that it was okay for him to leave her alone with Alfie. 

When Peter left, with a nod of his head Alfie gestured for y/n to follow him outside. He waited to be out on the balcony, with the doors locked behind them, before speaking. 

"I see you've moved on." 

"People die of heartbreaks only in books, Alfie. What did you expect me to do?" 

Alfie knew that she was right and that making her feel bad about being with another guy was hypocrite of him. He had been the one that refused her, after all. Still, he had his reasons and his lack of feelings toward her wasn't one of them. 

"You know that I care about you, right?" Unable to look at her nor to address the matter heavy on his heart, he settles to state the obvious to stall. 

"I like to think that you did, yes. Even if only for a little while." She said throwing away her intention to keep any kind of conversation between her and him, brief and civil. 

"What are you talking about?" Arching his brow, Alfie turned to her and even though y/n was not facing him she knew that if she was she'd see a hint of hurt and offence in his eyes. 

"Well, the beginning of our relationship wasn't ideal, to put it lightly," she recalled the harsh welcome he gave her when his men brought her in his office thinking that she was some sort of spy, "then it has evolved. From boss and employee to friends." She decided not to mention the fact that towards the end of it for one of them there was the desire of taking it to the next step. 

"For a while, I actually thought that you cared about me. Then some whispers would spread about you and the company you'd keep and I was forced to reconsider my opinion, of course. Not that I want you to feel bad about it or anything, Alfie. You can't control your heart, that's what they say." Trying to put their relationship in a few words was very easy and y/n was sure that she didn't make it justice. However, she had never been good at being concise and keep it short.

"I didn't take ya for the kind of girl to listen to voices and whispers, love." 

"I'm not Alfie but you forget that we were living together at that time and no matter how much I wanted to, the scent and the lipstick stains were hard to miss." She chuckled sourly. 

"No matter, it had nothing to do with you nor our relationship." He simply stated making y/n roll her eyes and grew restless. 

"Is there something you wanted to tell me, Alfie? I'm not in the mood to walk down memory lane, you understand." 

"So eager to go back to your date, I see. Go ahead, I'm not forcing you to stay." Turning his back to the balcony windows they had come from, Alfie set his eyes on the garden below, already regretting his choice of words and even the decision to come to this ball in the first place. 

Y/n, on the other hand, was rather confused. Her eyes were stuck on Alfie's figure hoping to find some clarity. Why was he acting so strange? Like it was him who was hurt between the two, him who had his heart broken, him who had to go on knowing that the love of his life didn't return his feelings.

"What's going on, Alfie?" 

"Why are you still here, y/n? Thought you couldn't stay away from the bloke any longer." The acid in his tone was hard to miss, and again y/n was left to wonder why he was treating her like it was her fault they were apart. 

"I'm sorry, wasn't you that said that you couldn't be with me, offering none explanation whatsoever? If I'm not wrong, it's you that pushed me away because you felt nothing for me Alfie, so why the hell are you treating me like it's my fault?" Addressing the elephant in the room, she couldn't help but get worked up while she spoke. 

"Only because I told you that we couldn't be together doesn't mean that I don't want to." He mumbled. 

“Then why are you acting like I don't love you back? It was you that never made a move, Alfie, so I thought that you were restrained by your religion. Then I discovered that indeed you never let it stop you before, don’t even try to deny it, Alfred. So I’ve come to the conclusion that you weren’t interested in me like that and I mean, there’s nothing I could do about it, right? Then you go ahead and shower me with little kind gestures that yes, I’ve appreciated endlessly but that also confused me to no end. Eventually, I confronted you about it and we know how that went. And now here you are, standing in front of me, telling me that you love me…”

“I was trying to be proper.”

“Oh please Alfie, you’re anything but.”

“I know that very well love, don’t I? Just were doing it for you.”

“I’ve told you, a thousand times, that I don’t give a fuck about these social conventions of yours. They mean nothing to me and you knew that. I reckon you almost fainted when you saw me wearing pants, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, it was then that I understood that you’ll be the death of me.”

“You don’t have to put up with me anymore Alfie. You’re not bound to me.” Stating the reality of facts never hurt y/n more.

“Are you bullshitting me? I’ve just told you that I love you, right, ain’t it? You’re mine.”

“I know I am. The thing is that you’re not mine.”

Alfie takes a step in her directions, not able to bear anymore the distance between them and the situation in general. Time for words is over, now it’s time to act. Smiling with mirth at her words, knowing very well that she was wrong, he opts to go about it with a more practical approach. Gently putting his hands on the base of her neck, slowly trailing up towards her cheeks. The pud of his thumb gently caresses her lower lip, parting them slightly. Y/n’s mind had completely gone blank and retired from the mission leaving her standing there to completely surrender to her emotions. Her breathing accelerated, her heart tumbed wildly in her chest, her skin set completely on fire by Alfie’s touch. Countless were the nights when she dreamt about this very moment and such were all those times when Alfie got one step close to kissing her but never did, frustrating her to no end.

Softly bumping their noses together, Alfie uses the hold on her face to draw her impossibly close to him. When y/n closed her eyes in anticipation of his kiss, he took a moment to really take her in. Oh, how he’d missed her. 

“I am yours.” He confessed and before she could even register his words, his mouth had taken on the task of showing just how much he meant was he said. Kissing her felt like finally getting that thing you didn’t know you needed, like a sudden revelation that all of this time he had been fooling himself when he would affirm that he was fine. He wasn’t. It really makes you think how a person can change your perspective on life so drastically. But Alfie wasn’t sure it was a bad thing. The total opposite actually. And y/n could only agree with him. Her life was turned upside down even before Alfie had come into her life. However, she wasn’t sure if she’d survived without him. Quite literally but of course, metaphorically too. He was like that force that comes in and with just his presence, he restored the balance in her and her life. Despite how messy Alfie really was. She would have never thought that a man could mean so much to her, to feel like she had been drawing all this time that she’d been without him, finally coming to the surface for some air when his lips had touched hers.

Contrary to popular belief, Alfie could be as gentle and delicate as he needed to. Sometimes, he was even the softest of the two. That had always amused y/n, knowing how rough and violent but at the same time kind and cautious he could be. She found that this aspect of his character rightly found his place in the kaleidoscope that was Alfie’s personality. He was such a complex man, so bright and intelligent, so quick-witted and well-spoken that really, she couldn’t avoid falling for him. She often wondered how come some other woman hadn’t before her. Well, no mind, she was grateful for it really. The man kissing her, ravishing her with such passion almost as if he’d want to impress himself on her, was hers. And she wouldn’t want it any other way.

When the need for air became unbearable for both of them, Alfie pulled away, still keeping a kiss away from her. 

“So, was that convincing enough?” He asked referring to her unwillingness to trust him.

“What changed?” Still heavy breathing, she ignored the unfamous smirk on his face and his question.

“I realized I couldn’t fucking stand the thought of another man touching you.” Men. So predictable. She couldn’t help but roll her eyes at him. Of course, he’d come back to mark his territory as soon as he felt it was threatened. Still, that wasn’t a good enough answer. It didn’t explain all his reservations about being with her.

“That’s cheesy as hell Alfie, but I’ll take it. For now.” She’ll ask him another time. Now, it wasn’t the time for words, after all.

“So, wanna go inside and tell that bloke that he can kindly fuck off?” He said alluding to Peter. Y/n couldn’t help but laugh, she knew that her tactic would work.

“It surprises me that you haven’t noticed yet, but if you turn around you’ll see that he already has.” She simply explained. Peter too had a lady he wanted to arouse an action from and as it had for her, their plan worked just fine. He was dancing with her just now, she could see them from the balcony they were standing.

“Perfect, then let’s get the fuck out of here.” He proposed.

“But first,” he stopped and before taking a step toward the exit he pulled her into another kiss as if to remind him that this was true. It had happened. She was his just as he was hers.

[emeraldtawny]

My Ikemen Vampire OCs

Been a while since I’ve done anything with OCs and I’m not sure if I’ll be using these boyos in fics or the like. I just wanted to add my own suitors based on some historical figures that caught my attention and thought would be cool to bring back as sexy vampires uwu~

Picrew used can be found here.

Marco Polo

Thomas Jefferson

Sigmund Freud

~Details under the cut~

Marco Polo

The Wide-Eyed Explorer

Adventurous x Oblivious

“Life's all about finding something out there in this great wide world that hasn't been discovered yet. How about it, Signorina? Want to take the risk with me?”

An explorer renowned for his treks from Europe to Asia, his documentation of his travels are known the world over. Yearning for knowledge yet grounded in his ideals, he enjoys exploring this “distant future” of 19th century France and pauses to marvel at every detail and moment he can. He accepted the taste of immortality so he could further explore the world. However, the dynamic, rocky expanse of love is one journey even the great Marco Polo wasn’t prepared for.

Birthday: September 15th

Height: 177cm (5’9”)

Occupation: Merchant

Vampire Type: Lesser Vampire

Hobbies: Exploring, Collecting trinkets (hoarding), Taking notes

Dislikes: Staying indoors

Specialty: Storytelling, Charisma

Weaknesses: Lying

Favourite Food: Pasta

Hated Food: Ginger

Pet: Monkey named Viaggio

Random Tidbits

Wears two dangling coin earrings, as a symbol of the currency he knew before learning of and introducing paper money to Europe.

Responsible for bringing noodles - and consequently, pasta - back to Italy. One of his proudest accomplishments, he says.

Gets incredibly pouty when people doubt his memoirs or if he even made it to China at all.

Is endlessly fascinated by the different culture of this “new world” and will ask endless questions to gain knowledge.

Gets flustered and oddly prideful over how many other important figures of history looked to his experiences to guide them (Of course, he is most proud of the children’s game named after him).

Most of his memoirs were written in prison and by his cellmate. *A/N: hmmm, I wonder who comes back to smite him :3*

Is uncharacteristically frugal and likes to hoard any “unique” treasures he finds (most of them are commonplace items, but rare to Marco).

Favourite Place To Bite: Shoulder. He just gets incredible pleasure sinking his teeth into the flesh of the shoulder, and it works in tandem to muffle the groans that threaten to slip through his lips as he feeds. And if they bite him back on his shoulder, he is gone. His arms will always be snaked around their waist and whether he’s pressed against their back or front, he’s absorbed in his feeding so fully that sometimes he doesn’t know when to pull back until it’s too much.

Associates With:

Leonardo - The pureblood quite enjoys the boundless vibrant energy of his fellow Italian, and is more than happy to show him around the city and listen to the younger man’s detailed recounts of what he’s seen. They fuel each other’s insatiable need for new things to learn.

Dazai - Enjoys teasing him for his cluelessness about the world. The mansion’s residents don’t know whether to intervene, as both seem oblivious to the other’s intentions in their odd conversations.

Sebastian - Usually on the butler’s bad side for the constant clutter of “souvenirs” he always returns with. However, is rewarded with the whimsical story recounting of THE Marco Polo, so it isn’t all bad.

How He Met MC

After MC had attended dinner and was making her way to Comte’s room, she almost gets knocked off her feet as she collides with someone whilst lost in thought. Things fall to the floor and she quickly apologises and kneels down to help pick up the fallen items. As she lifts her head, she’s met with a head of white wispy locks and kind ice-blue eyes staring back at her behind his round spectacles. He takes the things back from her and they both return to their feet. “Grazie Mille, Signorina.” He says through a grin. “I’m sorry I didn’t see you there. You must be new around here.”

“Oh, um--”

(Is he a famous figure of history too? He looks nice enough.)

Her thoughts are cut off as Sebas comes into the hallway and seems ready to scold the young man for bringing in another assortment of useless trinkets. He pouts a little and says that these are unique and a brand new discovery that he must look into for their use. Sebas sighs, notices MC and asks if he has introduced himself to her yet. He blinks and exclaims in realisation before turning back to MC with a sheepish, boyish grin.

“It seems I forgot to introduce myself to you, Signorina. My name is Marco Polo. I’m a merchant and an explorer.”

(M-Marco Polo?!)

After MC learns the truth about the mansion and its residents, she’s on her guard as she walks aimlessly around the mansion, avoiding everyone she can for fear of them biting her. She stops as she passes the archive at the sound of a happy tune being hummed. She peeks in to see Marco cross-legged on the floor with a pile of junk in front of him. Yet the way he’s observing each piece makes her believe every single one is an irreplaceable treasure. He adjusts his glasses and inspects the map in his hands with an inquisitive gaze, his excitement of a new discovery at his fingertips vibrant and infectious. 

She’s so lost watching him that she hardly realises that she’s entered the archive, her feet naturally bringing her towards him. He stops humming and turns to meet her curious eyes with a wink.

“Oh! Perfecto! Just the woman I was hoping to see!”

He says it so heartfeltly that she feels her heart leap.

“Would you happen to know what these are? Since you’re from the future, you’d likely have a better idea than me.”

She hesitantly sits down across from him, still unsure yet compelled to help him, the kind, yearning aura surrounding him too strong to resist. [First CG of them looking over the pile of junk. Marco gesturing wide as he imagines the uses of a simple silver spoon and MC staring at him like “...it’s a spoon, not a lightning rod.”]

As she listens to him, she asks him why he finds joy in collecting these everyday items. He blinks at her...before bursting out laughing.

“Don’t laugh, I’m serious!”

“Ah, I’m sorry. Really I am. It’s just I never get tired of hearing that question. To me, that question means that there are people out there who have grown accustomed to what’s around them. So much so that something they see every day has lost its beauty to their eyes. I truly believe that everything out there - discovered or not - has a story, a meaning. No matter how mundane it may be, everything has a unique beauty in this world.”

(That’s...such a wonderful outlook on life.)

...

Thomas Jefferson

The Repentant Sinner

Awkward x Earnest

“I cannot see the merits of wanting to get to know me. So, why can’t I stop you from doing so?”

A diplomat and a scholar, the one thing Thomas Jefferson cannot say he is versed in is the art of conversation. Despite this, he isn’t shy. He simply prefers to observe and document what is around him. Intelligent and soft-spoken, he seems to be more driven in his immortal life despite his tremendous accomplishments in his human life. What so greatly motivated him to be reborn as a vampire?

Birthday: April 13th

Height: 190cm (6'2")

Occupation: Diplomat don't mention the P-word

Vampire Type: Lesser Vampire

Hobbies: Writing, Violin

Dislikes: Public speaking

Specialty: Writing documents (in silence)

Weaknesses: Conversation, His reputation

Favourite Food: Vegetables (selective vegetarian)

Hated Food: Liver

Pet: Mockingbird named Quill

Random Tidbits

Can speak 4 languages (English, Latin, French and Italian) and can communicate through writing in a further two languages (Greek and Spanish).

Wears multiple rings and a wrist cuff on his right hand, as he had dislocated his wrist in his human life yet the bones failed to set right when healing. The discomfort continues as a vampire, though less painful.

His voice is quiet, mellow and of a tenor pitch. He can barely string more than three sentences together unless speaking in private and about a topic he is knowledgeable in.

Developed mild insomnia since becoming a vampire. Coupled with his periodic headaches, some days he will be completely inconsolable.

Enjoys writing and listening to his mockingbird sing in the comfort of his room.

Completely freezes and nearly breaks down when reminded of the dark underbelly of his legacy.

Has no less than four feather quills on his person wherever he goes.

Favourite Place To Bite: Fingers. Feeding on a body part with a smaller surface area helps him pace himself and prevent more harm than necessary. But he truly enjoys piercing his fangs into the tip of the index and middle fingers, giving a cursory suck before withdrawing and taking the fingers into his mouth to suck them that way; he doesn’t wish to harm anyone with his bites if he can help it. Of course, sometimes he can’t help it when he’s lost in bloodlust.

Associates With:

Isaac - Enjoys his quiet companionship. They usually sit in the archive together, working on their different projects in complete silence.

Napoleon - Occasionally goes to the Frenchman requesting a feather from his eagle to make into a new quill. Napoleon agrees under the condition he helps him teach the schoolchildren, something he begrudgingly agrees to.

How He Met MC

The first time she meets Thomas is at her welcoming dinner. She baulks slightly at the height of him and the broad set of his shoulders being accentuated by his perfectly fitted dress shirt. He meets her gaze and nods politely towards her before taking his seat and idly staring down at and fiddling with his rings. She whispers to Napo if she somehow offended him, but he assures her that that’s just how Thomas is; not the best at striking up a conversation. 

When introductions come up, he’s one of the last to speak and definitely the least enthusiastic. He clears his throat softly and makes eye contact with MC, his gaze oddly intense as if forcing himself to meet her eye.

“Thomas Jefferson. Diplomat. A pleasure.”

(Thomas Jefferson. He was important in American history if I remember correctly. Can’t say I know much more than that.)

When Sebas (and Arthur) get it through MC’s head that she’s now in a mansion of vampires, she immediately runs out of the kitchen and just panic runs. She ends up in the foyer and almost collapses with relief because she can finally escape this place. Before she can reach the door, however, she realises there’s someone else right in front of the door, pacing back and forth as if in a trance.

(Oh great. They have someone on guard as well? Even more reason to get out of here!)

She tries to slip by, but the man notices her and stops his pacing to stare at her, saying nothing. MC feels overwhelmed by his gaze and starts to shake. His eyes widen and he goes to reach for her.

“Are you--?”

“Get away from me! Vampire! Monster! Don’t touch me!!”

She swats his hand away and makes a break for the door, but Thomas grabs her around the waist, pinning her arms down. She thrashes and begins to feel tears pricking her eyes when Sebas emerges. Thomas turns to him and asks him to take the young lady to her room. He immediately releases her from his hold and whispers a soft “I apologise for scaring you.” before walking back to his room with long strides.

Back in her room, she reflects on what happened and realises that his grip on her wasn’t tight enough to harm her and instead, he was likely as panicked as she was.

(Even if he is a vampire, it was clear he was trying to protect me. And I called him a monster…)

The next day, she asks Sebas to show her where Thomas’ room is so she can apologise to him. Sebas says to try the archive instead and shows her the way. She knocks on the door and peeks inside. 

Sitting at a desk and brandishing a feather quill, Thomas writes like his life depends on it, his eyes - while still heavy and tired with dark circles - seem focused with an intensity that leaves MC dumbfounded. [First CG of him deep in his scribing, unaware of the pretty lady who watches him with her attention rapt.]

(He writes as if he’s possessed. I feel like if I interrupted him now, I’d be ruining the very nature of his being.)

She waits until he lets out a soft sigh and sets down his quill. When he finally notices her presence, he blinks, a deer in the headlights. His mouth opens and closes, but no words come out.

“Um...can I help you?”

...

Sigmund Freud

The Cold Elitist

Analytical x Insatiable

“Such honest eyes. Yet such boring simplicity in your actions and thoughts.”

An Austrian neurologist whose work helped to shape modern psychology. His work with brains and how they shape our conscious and unconscious mind - his book The Interpretation of Dreams using his own brain as the study - made him observant and insightful; in a holier-than-thou way in most cases. He is private and distancing, yet fiercely loyal to those he deems worthy enough to be close to him. His own findings concluded that personality and unconscious thoughts cannot be so easily swayed. Until he meets you...

Birthday: May 6th

Height: 180cm (5’10”)

Occupation: Neurologist (despises the term psychologist being attributed to him)

Vampire Type: Lesser Vampire

Hobbies: Smoking cigars, People watching, Reading

Dislikes: Being referred to by his first name (Call him Freud or you’ll get one hell of a death stare)

Specialty: Psychoanalysis, Picking apart people’s thoughts

Weaknesses: Accepting defeat or wrongdoing, Smiling through his eyes

Favourite Food: Artichoke

Hated Food: Anything American

Pet: Frog named Ego

Random Tidbits

He has a pet frog because of his early work as a medical student, where he studied frog brains to determine the difference between vertebrate and invertebrate brains. And named his pet after one of the terms he coined of the human psyche, representing the balance of our desires and morality.

Used to smoke cigars heavily, so much so that he developed mouth cancer which led to his eventual human death. Picked the habit back up again after being revived as a vampire.

Had a therapy dog when he was human. Sneaks pets to Vic and King whenever he can.

Was quoted saying “The goal of all life is death.”, yet accepted the offer to be granted eternal life (he chuckles bitterly at himself over this fact).

Was a firm Shakespeare sceptic and remains so into his vampire life. Any conversation he has with Shakespeare usually ends with him bad-mouthing him in German and proclaiming that the Earl of Oxford was the true writer of his plays.

Continues to write books about his discoveries, yet keeps them unpublished.

Is joked as being sex-obsessed (by Arthur of all people), but stands by his claims that sexual wishes and desires play into how a person’s mentality is shaped.

Favourite Place To Bite: Stomach. The way the muscles flex and spasm around his fangs is exquisite in every meaning of the word. He enjoys slowly sliding the blouse up, letting his hands trail slowly to feel the goosebumps that prickle on the skin, before biting right on the curve of the waist.

Associates With:

Comte - The one man who may call him by his first name. Feels indebted to him for another chance at life.

Mozart - Short yet calm conversations between the two Austrians happen every so often; about what, who can say?

Arthur - Pesters Freud for psychoanalytical techniques he can incorporate into his Holmes novels. Gives him the bare minimum to leave him alone. Absolutely loathes the nickname the Brit gives him (“Siggy”).

How He Met MC

When MC first encounters him, Freud is at the dining table with Mozart, Theo, Vincent and Isaac. As soon as he hears the commotion and she enters for dinner, he abruptly stands and leaves without a word, only sparing a cold stare that she feels in the pit of her stomach.

Her first true encounter with him is after Sebas tries to tell her that her housemates are vampires and she runs into him in the hallway. She notes that his eyes of metal run just as cold as the first time she met his gaze, but she still tries to greet him (Comte told her about him briefly at dinner, saying his name is Sigmund). When she addresses him as such, his lips twitch in distaste and harshly tells her not to call him that.

Being MC, she bites back a little, causing him to raise an eyebrow.

”For a meek little thing, you certainly try to bark, don’t you?”

“Hey, I don’t need another person in this mansion referring to me as a dog!”

“Hm. Very well then, Rotznase.”

(Did....did he just call me a brat?!) *A/N: no, MC. He called you a snot-nosed brat*

She goes to bite back again, but something in his eyes stops her dead. Like they can see into her soul, see the exact way her brain ticks. He exudes a harsh aura that makes her want to run, but the power of his eyes on her has her paralysed, like a predator staring down its defenceless prey. He scoffs at her before asking if she knows what he is. When she doesn’t respond, he sighs in annoyance before grabbing her by the throat and pushing her against the wall, hard. [First CG of this kabedon-strangling hybrid. 2/10, not sexy and probably hurts too much.]

”You’re a foolish little girl. And unfortunate in your luck. If you had crossed paths with any of the other beasts in these halls, you may have gotten away with nothing more than nightmares.”

His hand on her throat tightens, constricting her windpipe and cutting off her air supply, the petrified horror in her eyes only increasing as he bares his fangs to her.

”I am not a lenient man, I never have been. And this is no dream. You’re just an unlucky human. No offence intended.”

Just as his hand tightens further and he leans over her, Arthur of all people is the one to save her. He grabs Freud’s collar and yanks him back, barking at him not to scare the bird. Freud only gives an annoyed huff before strolling away as if he never had any part in it. MC loses strength in her knees and passes out from fear, and Arthur brings her to her room before heading to Comte to tell him what occurred.

The following day, Comte invites MC out to the garden for a chat. He confirms that the residents are all men of history brought back from death as vampires, and he apologises for Freud’s less than savoury approach at drilling the message in.

”Listen well, ma Cherie. The men in this mansion may be vampires, but they all show restraint. Sigmund, however, is an unusual case. He is prone to frenzies, where he’s so consumed with bloodlust that he cannot control himself. For your own safety, I would suggest having as little contact with him as possible.”

[chickensarentcheap]

Sanctuary -Chapter 16

Fandom: Extraction, Tyler Rake

Tagging:  @c-a-v-a-l-r-y, @alievans007, @innerpaperexpertcloud, @valkyrie-of-the-light

If anyone wants to be tagged, please let me know. I know there’s quite a few reading this ;)

Warnings: none really. Maybe some bad language.

“You're a natural,” Esme comments the next morning, as she and Nik lounge on a park bench; Yaz keeping the kids busy and laughing hysterically over his antics on the playground equipment.  

 They've all become restless being cooped up in the house with nothing more to do than count down the hours and minutes before Tyler leaves for Ireland. Opting to head into town for a late breakfast and some window shopping before taking the kids to burn off some of their excess energy. Tyler and Ovi had been gone for better part of the morning and wouldn't return to some time in the early afternoon; time at the shooting range, lunch, and long overdue talk about his expectations for the teenager while he was gone.

 “I've never been told that before,” Nik laughs, as Declan bounces happily on her lap; tiny feet planted on her thighs, hands on her shoulders, her own resting on his hips to help keep him steady. He's a cute little thing: strawberry blond hair (inherited from Tyler's mother), huge, brilliant blue eyes, and quite possibly the most adorable smile and giggle she's ever seen or heard. Out of the four, he'd been the biggest: an impressive nine pounds, ten ounces.  “Normally I'm told how uncomfortable I look.”

 Nik remembers when Tyler had to actually teach her how to hold Millie. Back in nursery in that little apartment in Australia. How nervous she'd been when that impossibly tine baby had been placed in her arms. Never had she held something so fragile. Helpless. Priceless. A little human being that depended solely on her to keep them safe.

 She's perfectly content being 'Auntie Nik'; she can spoil them rotten and love endlessly on them yet hand them back to their parents at the end of the day. With each passing birth, she's gotten more accustomed to the actual nurturing parts. She can feed them. Burp them. Bathe them. Clothe them. And is now able to successfully change a soiled diaper without promptly vomiting.

 “You don't look uncomfortable to me,” Esme says, as she adjusts the snap closure on the back of Declan's baseball cap and then slips it back onto his head. “And he obviously doesn't think so either. Look how happy he is. He adores you.”

 As terrible as it sounds to even to Nik's own ears, Declan is her favourite. He's vibrant and full of life; always smiling or giggling and very rarely crying of fusing. Infinitely curious. Simply loving life and everyone and everything in it. The twins rarely bother with her; they're head strong and wild, whereas she's very strict and routine orientated. Millie is a character all on her own. Five going on fifteen, full of sass and attitude. Never backing down from a challenge and very rarely showing any signs of fear. Very much her father's daughter. Right down to the bad habit of immediately distrusting others and shutting them out.

 “You're a strong little thing,” Nik says to the baby, laughing and wriggling away from the hands that try to latch onto her sunglasses. “You're going to be walking in no time, I think. Those are some powerful legs you've got there! I remember when you were still in your mommy's belly and you would kick her hard enough to make her cry sometimes.”

 “There were a couple times he nearly brought me to my knees,” Esme recalls, shaking her head in disbelief. “Like he would just get all that power into that one kick and just let me have it. If Tyler was lying up against me, it would even wake him up sometimes. All the kicking and the rolling around. You've just never sat still,” she addresses her son, tickling his stomach. “Always on the go! Even then. You never wanted to settle and now look at you. Still going about with your nonsense.”

  “You're going to grow up and be big and strong just like your daddy,” Nik says.  “You'll be able to put your older brothers in their places, that's for sure. And you'll be able to protect your sister from any mean boys in the neighbourhood. Or beat up any boyfriends that don't treat her right.”

 “Boyfriends,” Esme laughs. “Bold of you to assume that Tyler is ever going to let her date.”

 “Is he still bent out of shape over that? He's probably just worried because he remembers what he was like when he was a teenager. He doesn't want her bringing him any boys like him.”

 “I can imagine how my dad would have reacted to me bringing Tyler home. That would not have gone well. I'm the first girl after three boys. He would have taken one look at Tyler and the hair and the tattoos and promptly kicked him out of the house. Trust me, that is not what he wanted for his daughter. Someone with an edge. He would have taken one look at him and that would have been it. I love my dad, but he definitely would not have approved. He would not have even given it a chance to get to know him. My dad had a certain vision for how my life would go. And a guy like Tyler was not part of that vision.”

 “What kind of guy was he hoping for?”

 “None, preferably,” she laughs.  “He wanted the white-collar type. Boring. Simple. Vanilla. And as you already know, there is absolutely nothing vanilla about Tyler. In any aspect of his life. He's a little...”

 “Wild?” Nik offers.

 “Edgy. Dark. Dangerous. Fearless. A mystery. The type my father definitely did not want me to end up. I think once he realized I wasn't going to give in and stay away from him, he would have come around. Even teenage me would have been unable to stay away. I can't explain it. What exactly it is. But I felt it in Dhaka. Maybe I even felt it when I walked into his place in the outback. There was something different about him. Something irresistible, despite your brain and your heart telling you to just walk away. It was impossible. In Dhaka. I couldn't stop it. I didn't want to stop it.”

 Nik completely understands. She'd felt it too; the minute she'd met him a little more than ten years ago. He’d been a challenge. An enigma. And she hadn't been able to stop going to his bed even though she'd known he'd never want her for anything more than that. No matter how many times he told her, no matter how many times he insisted that he'd never want anything more, she'd held out hope. And sometimes she still did.

 She hates how it still makes her feel; the bitterness that eats away at her when she sees them together. It’s been a little more than five years and it is still so hard. To accept the way things are. Even when it’s so blatantly obvious how happy Tyler is. How much he relishes and thrives on being a husband and a father. How it has brought out a light within him; a sense of peace and contentment that had been absent from his life since his son died, and his first marriage disintegrated. And she should be happy about that. That he’s far removed from the Tyler Rake that existed in that little shack in the outback.  That he’d given himself the chance to actually be happy; that he’d let someone break down those walls and show him what it is like to be wanted and loved.  But it’s difficult. He hadn’t wanted that person to be her. And now she had to sit back and watch as his life went on.  A spectator to just how wildly and crazily in love he is with someone else.

 “Have you given it much thought?” Esme asks. “About having your own family?”

 “I have a family. I have Yaz. The team. All of you.”

 “You know what I mean, Nik,” she sips at a takeout cup of piping hot ginger and lemon tea; a rather potent smelling concoction that she swears help calm her stomach and her bad nerves.

 “I’m a much better Auntie than a mother. I’m too selfish. I enjoy what I do too much. I like being able to come and go as I please. Nothing tying me down. No one I have to answer to. That kind of life was never meant for someone like me.”

 “Six years ago, you could have said the same thing about Tyler. That this kind of life wasn’t meant for someone like him.’

 “That’s different. He wasn’t allowing himself to have this life. He hated himself too much. He was a mess and didn’t want to bring anyone else into it.  But he thrives on this kind of existence.  And he needed it. The stability. Someone to come home to. Kids that love and idolize him. Things that give him a purpose. Could imagine where he’d be if you’d never come along? He would have let himself die that day on the bridge. I’m sure of that.”

 “Sometimes it seems like a lifetime ago,” Esme sighs. “And then there’s other days where it seems like it was just yesterday. I’ve made peace with it. I’ve put it behind me. But sometimes…I don’t know…sometimes it just creeps up on me. Something just brings it back to the surface. I try not to let it get to me. But it’s in there. I can feel it.”

 “You’re probably just on edge because he’s leaving,” Nik suggests, as she places the baby down on a blanket that lays spread out at their feet, then accepts the cup of coffee that Esme had been babysitting for her.  “Are you feeling okay? The way you’re drinking that stuff, you’re not…”

 “Oh my god no. There is no bun in this oven. Not yet anyway.  It is definitely just bad nerves. And stress. I am so stressed, Nik. Not just about this. This is just the icing on the proverbial shit cake.”

 “Talk to me. What’s going on? Are things okay with you and Tyler?”

 “For once, it actually has nothing to do with him. I mean, other than the fact he’s leaving in eight hours and I have no idea when he’ll be back. If he’ll be back.”

 The word ‘if’ hangs heavily in the air. It’s always a possibility that things will go to hell. That the job won’t go nearly as easily and seamlessly as hoped. It very rarely does.  And there’s always that possibility that this mission may be the last one.  That one bullet in the chamber with your named etched on it.

 “It’s just stupid stuff,” Esme continues. “It’s Millie and the way she regresses like she does. It’s my parents and the fact my stepdad has been cheating on my mom for years and now they’re not even living in the same house. It’s my brothers and their relationship drama. And my sister.  She’s met this guy and she’s dropped out of college and no one knows where the hell she is. And then there’s the ex husband.”

 Nik arches an eyebrow.

“I guess he’s been friends with my mother all this time. Since things fell apart. And she had the nerve to tell him where I was. Address and all. He showed up at the house, Nik. When I wasn’t even there. He actually spoke to Tyler.”

 Nik smirks. “And he lived to tell about it? Maybe Tyler is starting to slip.”

 “He should have just killed him. No one would miss Mark. Not even his own parents. Well maybe my mother would. How screwed up is that? That she’s stayed friends with him but she hates Tyler? That she holds Mark up on some kind of pedestal but treats Tyler like he belongs in the gutter? It makes no sense.”

 “She has it in her head that he took you away from her,” Nik reasons. “One day you left and never came back. You said you were going on a business trip and then you’re calling to say that you’ve met someone and you’re staying in Australia.”

 “It was nearly six years ago. She needs to get a grip. He’s my husband. Whether she likes it or not. And he’s the father of my kids. Her grandchildren. You’d think that would mean something to her. He’s not a bad guy. You know that, Nik. He’s a big, strong man with an even bigger heart.”

 “With the right people,” Nik stresses. “That’s the important thing here. Only with the people that he allows himself to be that way with.”

 “It’s just so frustrating. That she just can’t give him a chance. Even if it’s just for the sake of her grandchildren.  He went to see her the other day. She called him and asked him if he would drive up. Said they needed to talk,” she rolls her eyes at the last part, sips her tea.

 “About what?”

 “Who knows. Tyler came home and never even brought it up. And I know better than to ask. If there’s one thing I’ve learned in the past five and a bit years, is hat it’s better if you just sit back and let him decide when he wants to talk about things.  You know what he’s like. He likes to keep shit in.”

 “Until he snaps and it all comes out.”

 “Exactly. Which I’ve pointed out many times and you can imagine how well that went. He’s so stubborn! So goddamn stubborn and it drives me absolutely insane.”

 “Well…” she grins, and playfully digs her elbow into her friend’s side. “…now you know how he feels when it comes to dealing with you.”

 “I am nowhere near as bad as him. Nowhere.”

 “I’ll give you that. But you’re both horribly stubborn and you’re both enormous pains in each other’s asses. But it works. In its own way. Neither of you could live without the other. I’m one hundred percent sure of that. And he’s going to be okay,” she reaches out to rub her friend’s shoulder. “He’s going to come home. To you and the kids. I promise you. We’ll make sure of it. And I know you hate me. For putting him in the situations I do…”

 ‘I don’t hate you, Nik. I could never hate you. And you don’t put him in anything. Tyler manages that all on his own.  If anyone is an expert on getting himself caught up in wild and crazy shit, it’s him. I just wish…” her voice trails off, a frown curving her lips as she lays a hand over her eyes to shield them from the sun and peers into the distance. “…what the hell?”

 “What?” Nik turns her attention to what has caught her friend’s eye. TJ wandering away from the playground, towards a stranger waving to him from a cluster of bushes and trees fifty meters away. “Yaz!” she yells at her brother, whose completely oblivious as he busies himself pushing Mille and Tanner on the swing. “What are you doing?! You’re supposed to be watching that one too!”

 “It’s okay,” Esme assures her, and hands her the cup of tea. “Tyler’s fine. He won’t hurt him. He doesn’t hurt kids. Only women.”

 “You know that guy?”

 “Unfortunately,” she sighs, and slips her feet into her flip flops. “That’s my ex husband.”

 ***

  “Tyler James Rake Junior!” Esme bellows, as she stomps across the grass, to where her son is immersed in conversation with Mark. As if they’re long lost friends.  “Just what in the blue hell are you doing?!”

 “We’re talking about football,” her son informs her. As if it’s perfectly natural to be making friends with complete strangers. “But real football. Like daddy likes. Not the stupid NFL.”

 “You do not just go wandering off like that,” she scolds him, dropping to one knee in front of him, hands on his shoulders. “How many has daddy and I talked to you about that? That you stay where we can see you? That you just don’t go off on your own?”

 There are many reasons for their warnings. And their worries. Yes, there’s a lot of unsavoury and sketchy people out there that are just waiting to take advantage of a child. But there’s also the possibility of there being someone out there just waiting to exact revenge. It is a strange way to live: always looking over your shoulder, waiting for the other shoe to drop. But it’s the nature of the beast.

 “He’s fine,” Mark pipes up. “I wasn’t going to hurt him.”

 She ignores him and continues to address her son. “What did daddy tell you? About never taking off like that? About never talking to strangers?”

 His chin falls to his chest, a pout curving his lips. “That I should always be where someone can see me.”

 “You scared me. And Auntie Nik. Don’t go wandering off like that, okay? What if something happened to you? Mommy doesn’t want to lose you. She loves you way too much. Come here…” she draws him into her arms, a hand on the back of his head as he snuggles his face into her shoulder. “…I’m sorry I yelled. I’m sorry I hurt your feelings. But you scared me, Tyler. Please don’t do that again, okay?”

 “Okay,” he agrees with a sniffle, and when he pulls back, she uses gentle fingertips to clear the tears off his cheeks and the sides of his nose.  “I’m sorry, mommy. But it’s not a stranger. He’s my friend.”

 “No. He most certainly is not. He’s not your friend.”

 “But he came to the house and said he knows you and he talked to daddy.”

 “He is not your friend,” she stresses.

 “Everything okay?” a breathless Yaz inquires as he arrives on the scene. “I’m sorry, Esme. I just looked away from him for less than a minute. I was caught up with the other two and I just glanced away and…”

 “Everything’s fine,” she assures him, wiping grass and dirt off her knee as she stands up. “He’s okay. A little too fearless, but okay. Can you take him back?”

 “I want to stay with you,” her son argues, and wraps both arms around one of her legs.

 “Who are you?” Yaz addresses Mark.  No chill. Just straight to the point.

 “I’m Mark,” he steps forward and offers a hand.

 Yaz looks at his hand, then straight in the eye, and then back to the hand again. Giving a derisive snort as he turns to Esme. “Mark, Mark? As in…?”

 “Just take him back to the others,” she says, and pries loose little fingers from around her thigh. “Go with Uncle Yaz,” she speaks to her son. “He’ll take you down to see the ducks and the geese. Mommy will be there in a few minutes. Can you do that for me? Go with uncle Yaz to feed ducks?”

 He nods, and she takes his little face in her hands and presses a kiss to his forehead.

 “You’ll be okay?” Yaz asks. “If you need me to stick around…”

 “I’ll be fine.”

 He nods, then looks at Mark. “Just so you know, I know about fifteen different ways to kill someone without leaving any evidence behind. And my sister knows about five times more than that.”

 “I’m not here to cause trouble,” he promises. “I’m just here to talk.”

 “Yeah…sure you are…” Yaz mutters, and then takes TJ by the hand and hauls him off back towards the playground.

 ****

 “He’s a little cutie,” Mark observes. “Looks nothing like you though. None of them do.”

 “What the hell is wrong with you?” Esme hisses. “First you show up at my house and talk to my husband, now you’re following me around and talking to my three old? Are you following me?”

 “You never called,” he attempts to reason. “I gave your husband my business card and he said he’d tell you to give me a call and…”

 “He should have just punched you in the throat and threw your ass in a shallow grave. And believe me, he’s more than capable of doing it. And much worse things. What do you want? It’s been eight years. No contact. Exactly the way I like it. And all of a sudden you just show up out of the blue? Are you unhinged?”

 “I’ve kept in touch with your mom. She’s the one who told me where to find you.”

 “Oh, I know. And believe me, she’s going to be on my shit list for a long time. What do you want? Why are you showing up at my house? Why are you following me to a park and watching me with my kids? Do you realize how creepy that is? That you’re just hanging out watching us and talking to my son? That is creepy as fuck and that is a line you never should have crossed. My son, Mark? Are you serious right now?”

 “You’re making way too much of a big deal out of this, Esme. I guess some things never change, huh? You still overreact.”

 “Don’t even try that with me. I’m not the same person I was when I let you get away with all your crap. So don’t you dare try and gaslight me. For once just own up to your own shit. You never should have kept in contact with my mother and you definitely should not have shown up at my house. You talked to my husband? Like, seriously Mark?”

 “He’s a nice guy. Not nearly as intimidating as he looks,” her ex smirks. “He’s a big boy, huh? Strong as hell.”

 “Why don’t you show up at the house again and try your bullshit on him and you can see just how strong and intimidating he can be?  I honestly would like to see that. I’d like to see him just hand you your ass. You have no idea what he’s capable of. And I don’t think you really want to find out.”

 “I’m not underestimating him. I’ve heard the stories. They’re out there if you know the right people. I definitely would not want to get on his bad side.  I heard what he did to those guys back in that apartment in Dhaka. I thought maybe it was all just a bunch of bullshit. Did he really kill a guy with a garden rake?”

 “I’m not indulging you in this. I don’t care what you’ve heard. I don’t care who you’ve heard it from. You had no right going to my house and talking to him. And you definitely had no right coming here and talking to my son. How low are you willing to stoop? How much further down into the gutter are you willing to go? That is my child, Mark. My three-year-old. And you’re out here luring him away like some pedophile.”

 “I was not luring him away. He saw me and wandered over to talk to me. That’s it. I would have never hurt him, you know that.”

 “Because you only hurt women, right?” she crosses her arms over her chest. “Just tell me what you’re doing here. Why do you want to talk to me so badly? Can’t you just go back under whatever rock you’ve been living under for the past eight years? I have a life. One that doesn’t include you. I have a husband and kids. Can’t you just let me be?”

“I just want to talk to you,” Mark assures her. “I’m not here to cause problems. I just want to talk.”

 “About what?”

 “Can we go and sit down somewhere?  Get a little privacy?”

 “You either talk right here or not at all. I’m not going anywhere with you. So talk. Whatever you have to say, just get it out.”

 His eyes narrow as he looks over her shoulder. “Your friend is staring at us.”

 “That’s Nik. And she’s probably going through all the different ways she can kill you. You wouldn’t want to meet her in a dark alley, either. Stop trying to change the subject. What do you want? Why are you here?”

 “To talk.”

 “I got that already. About what? You’re testing my patience, Mark.”

 “First things first…” he reaches into the breast pocket of his golf shirt and plucks out a small, sparkling and shiny object, offering it to her.  “…you left it behind.”

 The engagement ring he’d given to her many years ago. When things had seemed normal. Perfect. When she’d been convinced she’d found the love of her life and she’d wanted nothing more than to devote her life to him.

 She slaps his hand away. “You’re lucky I didn’t shove it up your ass or down your throat. What is wrong with you? Why would you bring that? If I didn’t want it then, why would I want it now?”

 “Well I noticed you don’t wear one, so…”

 “So you thought I’d just take that one back and wear it? You really are a delusional, arrogant prick, aren’t you. You’re not part of my life anymore. You haven’t been part of my life in eight years. And I was perfectly fine with that. I don’t want your ring. I don’t want you showing up at my house. I don’t want you talking to my husband or my son. You’re messed up, Mark. You have serious issues. You need to just go. Go back to whatever cave you’re living in and…”

 “Denver,” he interrupts. “I live in Denver now.”

 “Oh, how convenient. Considering you hated Colorado when we were together. Well go back to Denver, then. Go back there and leave me alone. Leave us alone.”

 She attempts to turn on her heel and walk away, but he captures her by the wrist and turns her around to face him.

 “Don’t…” she warns, and yanks her hand out of his grasp. “…ever touch me like that.”

 He releases her and then holds his hands up in surrender. “Just give me a chance, okay? Let me just explain what I’m doing here. It’s just to talk, I promise. There’s things I need to say to you. To get off my chest. Will you let me do that?”

 She crosses her arms over her chest once again, head cocked to the side as she waits for him to continue.

 “I’m in a program. For my drinking. I know what you’re going to say. That it only took eight years for me to get to this point.  And that I should have listened to all the times you begged me to go and get help. That things would be completely different now if I had have.”

 She doubts it. Their problems extended far beyond his alcohol issues. Getting help for that barely scratches the surface.

 “One of the things I need to do…to make a clean break and start a new life…is to make amends for things I’ve done. It doesn’t erase what was said or what I did, but it’s an important step I need to take. For my own mental and physical health.”

 “Because that’s all it was ever about, right Mark? You. I was never really in the equation.”

 “Maybe it will give you some kind of closure as well. Maybe you need to hear these things just as much as I need to say them. So you can get on with your life.”

 “I’ve gotten on with my life. I met the love of my life. The true love of my life. I got married. Had babies. I love the life I have. With the person I’ve made that life with. I don’t need to hear anything from you, Mark. But I understand why you need to say them.”

 He gives a smile of appreciation, taking a deep breath as he nervously rubs his hands together.  “I know that I hurt you,” he begins. “I know that I wasn’t the easiest person to get along with. Live with. That there were things I said and did that were horrible. That I was a terrible person to you a lot of the times. Especially after the baby.”

 She nods in agreement, swallowing down the lump of emotion that has lodged in her throat.

 “I think we just got caught up in things.  I had just come out of a bad relationship and I was looking for someone…anyone…to fill that hole inside of me. And you were there. I met you and everything seemed right with the world again. And maybe it was wrong. Maybe it never should have happened. I was your commanding officer. But it did happen. And I don’t regret that. Because there were some good times. And when things were good, they were damn good. Weren’t they?”

 “I never denied there were good times, Mark. But there were more bad than good and you can’t deny that.”

 “And you can’t deny that those times weren’t all my fault. You’re not exactly the easiest person to live with, Esme. You don’t make it easy to love you. I’m surprised this guy’s held on as long as he has, to be honest.”

 She smirks. “And you were doing so well there for a minute. You almost had me feeling sorry for you.”

 “He must have a lot more patience than I do. Almost six years, right? And he’s still around? You must be doing something right.”

“I give amazing blow jobs and he gets laid nearly every day, twice a day,” she retorts, and he frowns. “You actually almost had me there, Mark. I was starting to feel sorry for you. I was actually starting to feel proud of you for getting help. And then you do this. You turn it around so you’re the victim.”

 “I’m only pointing out that things fell apart because of both of us. Granted, I was a lot worse than you were and you put more into it when it came to trying to keep things together. You definitely worked harder than I did when things were falling apart.  And I know I went off the deep end after the baby. I’m sorry. For the things I said and the things I did to you. The other women. The lying. The being a complete asshole.  And that’s what I came to say to you. That I’m sorry and I hope one day you can forgive me.”

 She nods, considering his words, arms still crossed over her chest, hands rubbing her shoulders.

 “You have a beautiful family, Esme. You’ve got a guy that’s obviously crazy about you. Amazing kids. And I’m glad you found that. I’m glad you found someone that loves you as much as he does. Someone that could give you what I couldn’t.  I’m sorry I couldn’t be the kind of man that you needed. I really am. Even now I wish things could have been different.”

 “Things happen for a reason,” she says. “Had we…had you fixed things…I wouldn’t have what I have now. I never would have met Tyler. And that was the best thing that ever happened me. Even if what happened afterwards was screwed up. I don’t regret meeting him. Or going through what I had to. He almost died. I almost lost him and I had just found him. But I don’t regret how I met him or how things happened between us. And none of that would have happened if things worked between us.”

 “Well I hope he appreciates it. How much you love him. How much you’re willing to go through for him. Because when you love, you love with your whole heart. Your whole being. And I just hope he realizes how lucky he is. I hope that you have a long life together. A happy life. And I really am sorry I couldn’t give you all that.”

 “And I’m sorry too,” she admits. “For not being the person you needed.”

 “That’s the thing. You were. And I was just too stupid to realize it.”

 “Mommy,” Millie appears by her side, tugging at the bottom of her t-shirt.  “I’m hungry.”

 “Again?” Esme laughs, and scoops her up into her arms. “You’re getting to be just as bad as your daddy and your brothers. Can you say hi?”

 “Hi,” the little girl chirps, and offers a hand. “I’m Amelia. But everyone calls me Millie. I like that better.’

 He smiles and shakes her hand.

 “I’m five,” she announces. “Those are my brothers...” she nods over her mother’s shoulder in the direction of where Yaz is helping the twins shake playground sand out of their sandals. “Tyler and Tanner. They’re twins. But they don’t look exactly alike.”

 “Fraternal,” Esme explains. “Not identical. But you’d never know it if you saw them side by side. It’s hard for people to tell them apart, isn’t it, Millie? We can because we live with them and see them every day. But to other people it’s hard.”

 Millie nods. “Sometimes, at school, if they have a new teacher or a new person watching them on the playground, they’ll pretend to be each other. Just to mess people up. They think it’s funny,” she rolls her eyes at that, then adds in exasperation, “Boys. They try at home too, but mommy and daddy know who is who. That’s my other brother,” she points in the direction of where Nik is buckling the baby into his stroller. “Declan. He’s just a baby. I like him better than the other two. I really want a baby sister. I’m tired of having brothers.”

 “Well that’s something your dad and I have to decide. Whether it be a brother or a sister.  We don’t really get to pick. It just happens.”

  “Do you know my daddy?” Millie addresses Mark. “His name is Tyler too. My brother was named after him.”

 “We met,” he confirms. “We don’t really know each other though.”

 “You know mommy?”

 He nods.

 “How?”

 “Your mom and I knew each other a long time ago. We met at her old job. Long before she met your dad or had you or your brothers.”

 “You were friends?”

 He smiles. “Something like that.”

 “Do you like dogs?”

 Mark blinks.

 “I have a dog. His name is Macaroni. But everyone calls him Mac. I try telling everyone that’s not his name, but…” she shrugs.

 “Welcome to the world of five-year old’s,” Esme grins. “Where your attention span is limited yet you can carry on six different conversations at the same time. I should go. The other three are probably hungry too. And we should get home before daddy and Ovi, right?” she presses a kiss to Millie’s temple.

 “Ovi’s my other brother,” Millie explains. “But he didn’t come from mommy’s tummy. Mommy and daddy didn’t make him like they made the rest of us. I’m only five, but I know how these things work, you know.  Ovi doesn’t look like me. But he’s still my brother.”

 “The drug dealer’s kid?” Mark asks Esme, and she nods. “Pretty admirable. You guys taking him on like that.”

 “He needed a family. Him and Tyler have a pretty tight bond. Even back then they did. And we couldn’t just leave him there.”

 “He never would have survived. If you hadn’t have taken him. You realize that, right?”

 She nods, then gives Millie a smile and a kiss on the forehead. “Hungry? Should we go and grab something to eat? Make Uncle Yaz pay? We should go. If all four of them start carrying on at the same time…”

 “Thank you, Esme,” he reaches out and rubs her shoulder. “For hearing me out. I know it wasn’t easy for you and I know you didn’t owe me anything. And I hope one day you can forgive me.”

 “Maybe,” she says. “I’m glad to see you’re getting yourself together, Mark. That you’re finally taking things seriously and getting the help you need. I really am. You deserve much better than the cards you’ve been dealt. You always did.”

 He smiles, then reaches out to tuck a wayward piece of hair behind her ear. “Your hair has always done that,” he chuckles. “I always used to fix it for you.”

 “Well, someone else does that for you now. So…”  she backs away. Far enough that he can’t reach her.

 “I really am happy for you. Genuinely happy. You got the life you wanted. Someone that loves you and can provide for you, give you children. He’s lucky.”

 “I’m pretty lucky myself. Even if it takes something like this to make me realize it. He’s a good man. Not perfect, but perfect for me.  And he’s a great father. Right, Millie? Isn’t he? Isn’t he a great daddy?”

 “The best daddy ever,” she gushes. “Even if he won’t let me paint his nails or wear the tiara.”

 “It’s a long story,” Esme says.

 “But he does take me fishing,” the little girl continues. “And hiking. Those are pretty cool too. Do you have kids?”

 “No,” he responds. “I was never lucky enough to have kids. Your mom’s a good mom, isn’t she?”

 “The best ever,” Millie says, and presses a noisy kiss to Esme’s cheek. “Even if she does keep giving me brothers.”

 “And that’s our cue to leave,” Esme laughs. “I need to get these guys fed and home. It was nice seeing you, Mark. For what it’s worth, I hope you got what you needed by coming here. I know it wasn’t easy for you, either.”

 “If you ever need anything, and I mean anything, don’t hesitate to call. I’ll help anyway I can. Maybe we can start from square one. Be friends again. We always worked better as friends. Would you at least think about it? Give it a chance.”

 “We’ll see,” she says. “If you don’t hear from me…well if you don’t hear me, just take care of yourself. You’re on the right path. Stay on it.”

 “I will,” he promises, and then she turns on her heel and walks away.