#i don’t think Breeze really understands the concept of pets so she’s not on the list

[bilbobagginshome]

A Deadbeat’s Journal 21

A Jotaro Kujo x Blackfemreader

6 April 20XX,

Nowadays, I only go to work for free catering and talking to Kate and Mary. We are practically besties to the point that the only thing I don’t know about them is whether they use pads or tampons. But as Jotaro is coming home two days from now I think I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m leaving. I want to see more and understand more about the world I live in. I have traveled many times before but I have only seen the beautiful and sometimes touristy side of the world. Sort of like the PR video of the world if we were to show aliens what life on earth is like. Moreover, I spent my entire life licking myself that I couldn’t notice how vast the world is. How a small change in environment can completely shift the perspective of anyone who is alive. 

I think discovering that would also mean discovering myself. Ms. Khadija agreed, or more so screeched in agreement. She gleefully explained how proud she was that I’m finally beginning to have a three-dimensional perspective of the world. I liked how she illustrated it. But I feel like I’m moving too fast. I don’t even know what I can do as a lawyer who studied in Kenya abroad. Where will I even get a job? I mean the check from Joestar Enterprises is quite sturdy but my contract was for three months and I will quite easily go broke afterward if I decide to move out with those savings. Also, mom is definitely not going to help me leave. Without seeing her face, I already know her frown would slightly etch. Though she may seem complete especially after promising to stop infantilizing me, I know she’ll barely lift a finger to help me even get my visa.

I even forgot about the visa issue. The Kenyan passport is almost as useful as a rock when it comes to visa applications. Unless I pull astronomically long strings, I may have to wait a year to even go to one place for a few months. It's madness really. Like why is our passport so useless at doing what it's expected to do? I can feel my patriotism washing away as I remember the queues to even get a chance to apply for a visa. I would give anything to have Jojo’s Japanese passport. He’s living in la vida loca with how easy it is for him to move around. God, don’t I hate the consequences of colonialism?

Maybe I can ask Patience. Their family is notoriously connected so I know visa applications are an easy breeze for them. Yeah, I will, I’ll promise them a date at Tamarind if they are successful. I know they have a taste for the finer things in life. 

What am I even thinking? What will I even tell Jotaro? I’ve suddenly decided to leave home. I know he’ll be sad, we created a home together for Christ's sake we even have a pet together. But maybe he may also want to move on. Either way, I need to leave before we grow comfortable with one another and we neglect the concept of growth and change before I decide to marry the guy, have two wonderful kids, and be a stay-at-home mom with a law degree who does pilates five times a week. Look it sounds wonderful already but I mean this is why I need to get out of here. I’m pondering a future with a man who has shown me the slightest interest. I haven't even kissed someone outside a truth-or-dare game….wow, I really am inexperienced.

Jotaro will understand. When we weren't close, he always emphasized my close-minded nature. Now though, that we have something in the vacuum, something despite remaining unnamed remains so tangible I can lick the sweetness, its going to be challenging to let it go, to only hope that absence will make the heart grow fonder and perhaps my airy castles of what could be of our relationship will become solid. 

Well enough pondering. I better call Patience or this will just turn to never-ending daydreams.

Third-Person Narration.

Y/n thought best to cook Jotaro something light as the road trip would leave him slightly weary, So a Japanese curry and rice would definitely be a soothing dinner. Just as she shuts the lid of the already-made dinner, Jotaro opens the door.

“Jojo, you’re already home !” She cheers as she gives him a welcoming hug which Jotaro warmly accepts.

“Seems you missed me a lot,” he responds with a slight smirk as he unwillingly lets go to lug his suitcase to his room.

“Definitely. But especially my little Samosa who I should be picking up tomorrow from her grandma’s” she shouted out as she prepared the table. Jotaro walked out of his room, his two being the only garment on him and y/n refused to look within his vicinity, suddenly intrigued with what cutlery to use to accompany the honestly simple meal.

After some scrolling, Jotaro came back, fully clothed in his blue cotton pajamas, and sat.

“ So how was Malindi? Any more hookups that you want to tell me ?” She questioned with a slight chuckle.

“Why jealous?” he responded a tinge of intrigue underneath layers of jeering.

“After that fiasco that was your first night in months, moreover in a dirty bathroom, yeah I’m very jealous of you Jotaro.” She mocks back and Jotaro chuckles in response.

“Yeah, I think that night single-handedly made me a celibate man. But aside from my sex escapades I finally did something that’s been on my bucket list for a while.”

“What’s that?’

“Boat riding.”

“How quintessentially trust fund baby of you,” she smirks afterward.

“Very funny , but yeah it's a bit weird that despite being a marine biologist, I never bothered with learning how to ride a boat until recently,” Jotaro responds in a faraway tone as he mouths his dish.

After a few heavy mouthfuls in silence, the only sound coming from y/n as she laughs at her screen, Jotaro says softly,

“The food there was absolutely wonderful, but its something about home cooking that will always have my heart. Thank you for dinner. I didn’t even think that you knew how to make Japanese curry .” 

“Oh, it's nothing, just a few youtube tutorials, and some personal touches.” She shyly responds with a beaming smile.”

“Really, like what?”

“I added royco for a more beefy flavour and used some meat stock rather than water. Added a tinge of coconut cream but the rest really is by the book.”

“It's wonderful, I guess no matter what happens the student can never beat the master,” he says whilst rising from his chair, plate almost as clean as it was before serving. Y/n simply scoffs at that, rising to wash the dishes but Jotaro declines and after a few minutes of nonsensical squawking, she allows Jotaro to wash the few dishes remaining.

She can sense that something unspoken is in the air as Jotaro washes mutely. I mean, she has a secret of her own but she is unwilling to divulge it to the open as much as his questionable secret is. Though she says nothing and decides that whatever must be hurting him to say is almost as heavy s her confession, and rather than blurt it out as her conscious usually dictates, she will simply spit it out when he is just as ready to.

***

Samosa barely acknowledges her parents when they eagerly greet her. Perhaps she knows that fun time is over and she will no longer have a companion who she has been menacingly teasing the entire week. She instead continues to jump on Tatu whilst attempting to bite the poodle’s tail which granny Rhoda only tuts at in mind disapproval and a smirk of amusement. After the usual five-minute greeting which involves a rehashing of the week’s events, they head into the dining room for supper.

“So, y/n what do you plan to do after the hotel’s opening? I know a guy who can get you a nice job in their property company .” her mom says whilst forking into her chicken.

“While that would be nice, my ambitions are a tad broader.” she slowly responds whilst looking down to pleading Samosa.

“How broad?” both her mom and Jotaro ask.

“That’s my little secret,” she responds with a closed-mouthed smile. Faith, remaining unamused almost responds before sealing her personal remarks by drawing her mouth in a line and instead opts to cut off a piece of her chicken to give to Samosa. Jotaro looks questioningly over to y/n which she ignores in favor of finishing off her pilau.

“Was boat driving fun Jotaro?” Granny Rhoda shifts the topic as she notices the tension still as thick as ever.

“It was granny, I’m even considering acquiring a yacht.”

“How nouveau riche,” Y/n mutters with a stiffened laugh which he silences with a slight glare.  

“Anyway as I was saying, I would like to get a yacht, I really enjoyed it and who knows, something great may come out of it,” he says while feeding his bone to Tatu who almost dexterously begins gnawing on it.

“You both are acting so closed off. Anyway, you are all grownups, nothing I can do about it now.” Faith responds with a resigned sigh.

After a successful manoeuvre in the topic by granny Rhoda they decide to head home, this time with Samosa who surprisingly agrees quickly. In the car, whilst Samosa is sleeping in the backseat, y/n thoughtfully states 

“I think we are at the brink of something.”

Jotaro stays silent for a moment, sharp eyes fixated on the road before he responds,

“I just hope it will be for the best .” 

Y/n replies with a slight nod.

* * *

“So you’re leaving Kenya?”Patience and Abdul question in unison.

“Yep, for a year though, I want to be somewhere I’ve never been, though as familiar as home.”Y/n punctuates with a sip from her cool strawberry lemonade.

“Come with us then, I got a job as an aid for the favelas in Brazil and Abdul is leaving for a job he got for some boring tech company.” Patience excitedly blurted.

“Why can’t I share the good news on my own, it and besides, its not ‘some tech company’ it's a creative startup that partners with emerging creatives, the jist of it is really cool.” he ends with a sweet smile.

“Oh my goodness congrats guys, though Abdul what made you change your mind? and Patience, what’s with the sudden philanthropic route?”

“Dad has been bugging me on not using my degree to its fullest but I felt that they thought I was pausing my life for them. I didn't want them worrying and I’ll visit every moment I can .” He ends in a hum and y/n nods in approval.

“And I heard the easiest way to get to the UN is through working for an NGO and despite babu’s connections, it's still going to be difficult to get in.” Patience nonchalantly adds whilst biting into her cinnamon roll.

“Your bluntness astounds me at times,” Abdul responds in slight disbelief.

“OK OK, I also care about the children and the women and whatever cause we’re advocating for or against .”

“You don’t even know what you’re fighting for?”Y/n shockingly questions.

“Babu got me the job, I’ll find out when I get there.” she shrugs and gulps her tea while admonishing Abdul for not making the tea spicier. This causes another minor altercation with Abdul annoyed that his tea-making skill is being questioned despite being the son of a cafe owner and Patience mockingly jabbing at his seemingly lackluster baking skills to spite him further.

As y/n looks at the passing cars and people, she contemplates. Brazil would be beautiful, crime rates are crazy there but in a good neighborhood, she can thrive.

“OK, I’ll ask someone if he can hook me up with a  job at one of his hotels there.”

“Huh?” Patience questions, now done with their tea.

“I’ll join you guys, in Brazil.”

“Oh really?? I’ll finally be able to live out my dorm dreams. This is so exciting. Now that you have decided, don't worry I’ll aid with the visa issues, Baba knows a guy.” Patience exclaims as they tightly hug me. 

“But what about Jotaro?” Y/n mutters. Abdul responds as Patience slowly lets go of me.

“Oh yeah, your boyfriend would be very sad .”

“Definitely, and you still haven't told us anything much about him, all I know of him is that his family is loaded and that’s all from surface-level internet stalking .”Patience adds

“First of all, he’s not my boyfriend…”

“Yet” Abdul unhelpfully adds.

“And secondly, I get the jist that he may like me, but I don't think he’ll wait for me if I ask him to.”

“ ‘May’? He lets you live at his house rent-free, cooks and cleans with AND for you, plus he could not stop making love eyes whenever you are within his vicinity. “Abdul retaliates.

“Moreover the bedroom eyes whenever you’d sway at the tunes during the festival, I wasn’t even been looked at and I was sweating buckets.”Patience delivers

“That did not happen.” Y/n meekly responds.

“Yes it did, fine boy was glaring at anyone who was sizing you up and looked ready to devour you. Kinda disappointed you didn’t satiate his hunger once y’all got home.”Patience calmly says

“That is obscene Patience.”y/n admonishes as she shyly looks away from both of their mischievous glances.

“But true,” Abdul responds with a Cheshire smile.

“I’ll know what to do .” Y/n determinedly states.

“I say hit it and leave him begging. Men like that.” Abdul states 

“You only like that cause you have a masoch-”

“TMI GUYS,” Y/n exclaims in horror and the perpetrators burst into laughter.

* * *

“Who would’ve thought you were into picnics?” Jotaro says in slight shock as he helps y/n pack a basket for an afternoon on the waterfront. 

“Car picnics have always been a thing in Mombasa, how can I not like them?”y/n questions back.

“True true. So, what's this about? You told me to be ready to go as soon as breakfast was done.” Jotaro once more inquires.

“What are you a detective? Stop interrogating me. You’ll see when you get there.”y/n with a slight annoyance, responds.

“Fine. But I want sugarcane juice, so let's stop by town” he responds amusedly at her snappy mood.

He notices the flair in y/n’s off-shoulder mid-thigh, summer dress, and how the peach pink complements her shade. How the gold anklet makes her purposeful walks around the kitchen even more graceful. How the acrylics make her rapid hand movements seem smoother. How her light makeup perfectly complements her features. How, just beside the kitchen window, she seems more otherworldly than earthly.

“Is your beauty often this spellbinding?”

“How many times have you used that line to pick up girls?” Y/n responds in amusement though her shy smile exposes the effect that the offhanded compliment had

“Rarely, I’m not used to seeing angels walking amongst us,” he responds with a smirk.

“Young man, pick up the basket and stop with the unnecessary flirting,” Y/n responds with a less composed tone as she picks up the sunscreen.

“If I do so, will you grace me with your smile so blinding  that all wars would cease?”Jotaro sweety questions.

“Have you been reading the butterfly’s burden?” Y/n inquires back.

“Can you let me serenade you?” Jotaro tiredly retorts

“No, because it's kind of embarrassing to me.” She responds as she calls out for Samosa to head out.

The car ride is filled with banter and catch-ups. Jotaro gives his latest scoop on Noriaki and Atieno, claiming that they are now an item which y/n refutes based on info Noriaki has been personally telling her. They talk about workplace drama and the new shows that have been hits.

By the time they arrive at the waterfront, the atmosphere is perfect. Not too crowded and comfortable enough to enjoy your personal space. They find a shade that overlooks the ocean and park the car there.

Assembling the picnic is simple and after laying it all down and y/n taking a picture for her WhatsApp Status, they comfortably sit. Samosa unwilling to sit on the Maasai blanket due to the dogs surrounding the area opts to stay in the car and y/n opens the car door to observe her.

After a few nibblings and a comfortable silence taking over as they bask in the ocean breeze, y/n says,

“I have to tell you something.”

“Actually, same here but please go first .”

Her stomach twists in an uncomfortable yet familiar way. She looks at him and states.

“I’ve been thinking of moving abroad. To Brazil. Actually, it's less of a thought and more of an action. My visa is almost done and grandpa Jotaro found me a well-paying job as a hotel manager.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“I’m also planning on leaving. I got a boat license and plan on working online. I plan to tour the coastlines of Africa in my new research. Hopefully, it will be less mentally draining than this one has been ” he ends with a half-hearted laugh

“Wow.”

“Yeah.”

They stare at the glimmer of the ocean. How it reflects the sun’s golden hue and makes the atmosphere almost dreamlike. But a swirling pit of sadness seems to have overtaken their hearts and their throats ache in swallowed grief.

“We should be happy for one another, but I’m still so sad.” y/n chocks out before giving in to tears. Jotaro tightly brings her into a hug and blinks away the eventual tears

Jotaro’s POV

Suddenly she looks up and says shakily, eyes glossing,

“Jotaro I-”

“Don't,  because if you do, I don't think we'll be willing to let each other go.”

The tears well in her soft eyes and mine break into sobs. It's a sorrowful sight though one without its own comedic turn. A giant hunched over a girl as he softly sobs.

Y/n hugs me tighter and the gasp she lets out breaks my heart. Its fragments spread all over my veins, covering every crevice like some poison and filling my brain with all-encompassing grief. I tug her to me and she hugs me softly. Why are we crying like grieving individuals? Why does the thought of letting each other go feel like death itself? And explain why my heart feels impaled whenever I hear her heaving breath.

After a few minutes of soft sobs, she composes herself and looks up at me. Her nose and cheeks have slightly reddened though her eyes and the slight crease of her eyes are a full indication of her sadness. She takes out a wet tissue and wipes off her ruined makeup.

“Guess I shouldn’t have worn makeup .” She heaves out.

“I know I stopped you, but I’ll admit it. I’m in love with you. Will always love you no matter the distance. So I’m willing to wait for you. It's only going to be a year. And then, we’ll get married.”

“Married, Isn’t that going too fast considering we won’t be dating during the year.” she side-eyes me, mouth agape.

“Okay tell me, what more do we need to know about each other ?” I mockingly questions

“What about testing our romantic compatibility?”She knowingly retorts back.

“We definitely are compatible. May I remind you that we live together and take care of another living being ?” I respond whilst gesturing to a drowsy Samosa.

“Or did you mean something more intimate?” I add with a slight eyebrow raise that would be sexy were it not for the cartoonish smile that y/n loudly laughs at.

“Get your mind out of the gutter. Okay fine but during the year, no sexual and emotional relations with anyone.” Y/n resolutely conditions.

“Of course.” I  respond with a tone that seems far too much reserved for only her. After a long silence, it comes onto me that I haven’t heard her say it.

“Do you love me?”

“I mean , I agreed to your outlandish idea so I would think so.”she says with a small smile. That’s not enough though. Call me hopelessly romantic but I eat up romantic settings like these ones and despite not showing it , I am expecting a doe , glossy eyed heart confession that leads to a potential kiss.

“Then say it” 

“OK, Jojo. I love you.”She says while looking straight at me.

“Would it kill you to be a bit more shy.” I hate being whiny but why is she so hard core.

“I’m sorry I’m not the hallmark type girl who is too shy to admit at face that she likes someone. Yeah , that’s right , I took a peak at your Netflix profile . Your obsession with romance K dramas should be seriously reviewed .”

Yeah I’ve heard enough , Maybe a kiss will shut up her needless critics .

Considering how she barely moved at first, i definitely caught her off-guard, But she never rejected me and despite  being slight uncomfortable we were able to move at a seamless pace. Oh dear Buddha , why is it that even when I’m describing the most refreshing kiss I’ve ever had I have to make it seem like I’m relating stock info. It felt like a cool drink after working under the humid Mombasa sun and were it not for breathing , I’d have drank her up to my fill.

“That, that was something.” Y/n says whilst attempting to catch her breath.

“You seemed a bit rusty , a bit of practice wold fix that up . Better yet , class is in session.”  and before I could grab her for another gulp , she quickly scoots away and says, a bit less breathless now.

“No, we could get fined for public indecency and you definitely have wandering hands so not now.” 

“Okay then, stop scooting away from me . And anyway how do you know this ? “ I respond whilst grabbing her waist and putting her beside me.

She proceeds to tell me how she bailed out Patience from doing the same thing except in the beach . Soon topics shift to the instances many of our friends have been almost jailed for absurd laws in Kenya.

As the tides of conversation ebbed from almost hysterical to almost jarring , it reminded me of our first time talking after she moved in . I would have never known the bounds of her personality were it not for that day . I believe in fate and I think our stars were aligned perfectly from then .

-

                                   prev masterlist next

This year has been kicking my butt left right and center . Apologies for the very late update . Almost scrapped this story ngl so to whoever is reading I hope you like this update 

[leafdrake-haven]

If your ocs could have a pet what would it be?

This is fun!

So Rhynn…. She wants every pet??? She is always bonding with and befriending creatures whatever plane she’s on. She does help out a lot with taking care of the krasises for the Combine and also many of the drakes. She also occasionally helps other guilds with animals if they are needing help for specific things. For herself personally though she has biomanced up a drake (Zamir) she found as he was struggling to hatch (his egg was damaged so was thrown away and she found it and wanted to help) and raised him to adulthood. He is now a mutant drake (4 wings, 4 eyes, some non-drake qualities; will draw him one day hopefully!) and her closest bonded creature friend. They are constantly sharing at least a partial empathic bond as long as she’s on Ravnica, no matter where either of them are on the plane. Eventually I am going to have her realize she can summon him/planeswalk with him (a visit to Ikoria unlocks this knowledge for her). It is difficult/taxing to do though so she tries not to do it unless she is going to be spending a lot of time there.

As far as a “regular” pet for Rhynn, I could see her keeping some pigeons. She might keep a little loft that she talks Elrick and Myree into watching while she’s not at home.

Helis enjoys animals but for the life of me I am struggling to picture him with a pet of his own, so he just might not be a pet guy.

Elrick’s pets are plants xD

I don’t think Tali would tie herself down with a pet since she couldn’t planeswalk with it but I could see her liking the idea of something smart and sneaky she could train to help her with occasional thiefing or distractions so perhaps some form of corvid or monkey.

Penny is actually very afraid of animals and would not like a pet, no thank you (maybe a small artifact creature someday).

Blix has a pet steam elemental that behaves and (mostly) looks like a totally ordinary house cat, her name is Dumpling.

Myree would want a ferret! And one day when she learns artificing she will make herself her own artifact ferret companion.

Lena is throwing me for a loop. I can see her either being a long-time cat owner OR not having a pet until she and Rhynn become friends and she realized she likes pigeons and gets a pair for herself. Both feel right but she couldn’t have both so I’ll have to think on that one 🤔

[borkthemork]

Finally cleaned up this draft based on @/popcornbee’s art and it is now officially on AO3 as well, so I hope all of you enjoy!

---

There were numerous pathways for a sparrow to travel. Following their migration patterns, they'd travel down to warmer lands, typically somewhere protected for the nights. In doing so, they'd rest in the winter and return back all new. Refreshed for the upcoming springs and summers.

For American Tree Sparrows, these patterns were necessary to survive.

For Joe Sparrow, the true information depended. 

He liked to flit about on rapid wing beats. He preferred curdled mealworms due to previous battles hurting his digestive system. For migration, he remained stubborn on whether he liked the warmer breezes or if the Newtopian stables were of true home than anything else.

Newtopia had a history of domestic birds. Joe Sparrow was the mixed case when he grew all-natural, got captured and owned by one or more owners who called him previous names, and then found Marcy in the middle of sweltering rain. Where a mission lead to something new and surprising, bold and unorthodox, and the moment Joe saved her — chose her hand of all people — Marcy promised to keep him safe. Safe, protected, cared for.

And nothing had pulled these two away from each other. Not even the fleeting concept of gravity. Or the fact winter threatened his nests.

Anne asked about him before. On one occasion, where Marcy groomed him under Plantar barn shade, Anne looked at his big, round, puffy belly and wondered out loud where the scar above his eye fit in out of all things.

Of course, Marcy had the answer.

“Oh, you know Joe,” she sighed. “He keeps pushing his limits. You won’t believe how many scars this bad boy got during his old career. For the eye one, he actually got that scar back when he was just a fledgling, but this was during the morally ethical times where amphibians didn’t really care for mounts unless they were battle resistant.”

Her hand parsed through his plume, giggling when Joe tweeted pleasantly against her skin. “But now he’s in a morally ethical place, aren’t you, boy? Yes, you are.”

Anne snorted. She ruffled Joe’s feathers too, and the two giggled quietly when the sparrow seemed to lean into the touch. Almost as if the sparrow connected immediately to Anne.

And Anne teared up over the thought. “It’s just like mother nature intended.”

The week afterward reminded Marcy of her sparring days, but instead of swords and smoke bombs, she had worms and patience. Lots of patience as Anne attempted to feed some mesh into Joe’s beak — and ultimately got stuck when she leaned too hard into his mouth.

It was funny how all this bonding time left her blind to anything else on the schedule. Marcy could instruct Anne to direct the mealworms to Joe for hours and still find Anne’s laughter to be the highlight of her day. Maybe Joe would sit on Anne, and leave her yelling and laughing under floof-fulls of bird, and Marcy would sketch that scene than the typical mission schematics Lady Olivia instructed her to look through.

Marcy hypothesized that Joe's love for attention spurned her focus. It made sense for birds to tease if they didn’t get the proper reaction out of people. It made sense for a bird such as Joe to find affection in someone who exuded goodness from their heart. But then Marcy would remember Anne. For Anne had Joe’s affection at the palm of her hands but irritated the bird enough to prefer dipping her into a nearby pond just for the sake of playfighting. And that enough had gotten her intrigued.

Was it another phenomenon she needed to analyze? To understand fully until the cusp of discovery?

Perhaps. Not right now though.

Marcy had found a breakthrough. A breakthrough in Animal-Human Sociology. But her focus lingered elsewhere, came down to how she rested next to a bucket load of dirty feathers — snoring into her best friend’s shoulder until the moon rose high above the Amphibian mountains.

---

When Marcy stared through the sky, and the act alone reminded her so much of Kid Icarus. If she ignored the wings branching out from the corners of her eyes, and only focused on the colors then she thought of herself as flying. Flying through skies that bled yellows and reds like Aivazovsky, framed so well against the crisp horizons that Marcy could almost paint the perfectest picture in her mind.

And when wind buffered her hair, parted the clouds with her hands, she swore that the taste on her tongue was of fresh saltwater.

Navigation. Freedom. The fades from orange to blue to maroon. Marcy loved riding for a reason. She held onto Joe’s reins with the utmost quickness, spelled out her name with short dives and leaps through cumulus tufts. And in the aftermath, she wrung her coat dry of moisture.

At least, until Anne became a priority.

Anne Boonchuy. Friend of ten years. Friends since the term friends became part of the Merriam Webster. Now, the latter sounded silly, but friendship could be a frank concept at times, it was something Marcy had no clue how to navigate, and yet Anne found her and decided Marcy was worth her time.

So they were here now: One readying an avian saddle, the other petting Joe’s tufts with the heaviest affection. And aw, Joe seemed to like it, what with the amount of cooing he’d been doing for the past hour.

Not like Marcy didn’t want to get in on that action. She just needed to finish clipping on the latches — and when she did that, it would be go-time, her a-game.

“Anne, can you push me that satchel?”

“Sure thing, Marce.” With ease, Anne somehow lugged a chair-sized bag over to where Marcy was, and they remained silent afterward as she finished the remainder of preparations.

What preparations? Well, the kind that remained out of her league.

“Sooo, where are ya’ going, exactly?” Anne asked. She had the same perturbed look to her ever since she whiffed the scents from the bag itself.

Marcy couldn’t help but rub her neck, not knowing how well to respond. “Well, I’ve been planning to scout an area somewhere high up in the Southern sect of Amphibia. I got wind that some bandits plan to use a route to jump ambassadors from here and there on the pathways, and I just wanted to make sure that doesn’t happen again, you know?"

“For sure, dude. I mean, you are the boss after all. That stuff’s gotta be pretty important if you’re getting loads of homework for it.”

“Well,” Marcy puckered her lips. She was right in some sense. Chief rangers plopped themselves into some high category up in the Newtopian ranks. It made sense. “Correct, kinda. I don’t really call it a boss position, more so a job. A very fun job, actually. You’d be surprised at how many prefer office desks to infantry, it’s nuts.”

Although, the more she thought about it, being able to stay safe in a big ole’ cube than getting skewered by bandits did sound appealing. Less probability for harm, sure. But Marcy loved the hunt way too much for her own good.

If Andrias gave her another objective, she might as well do a little dance at this point; there was always something exciting to partake in.

And with Joe, the fun always doubled with him.

At least, until she remembered that Anne had been staring at her, snapping her fingers in front of Marcy’s nose. “Marbles, you good? Another zone-out moment again?”

“Oh yeah, definitely. Thanks, I was about to get worried, the internal dialogue I had was getting way too extensive for my taste."

"Well, now that you’re out of your internal dialogue stuff, I got to ask.” Anne peered at Joe again. “Can I get on your bird?”

Marcy blinked at her. “Oh. Of course. You don’t really need to ask me if you’re curious about riding him.”

“I know, but he’s a big softie, really wanted to make sure I got your permission before anything else.” She coughed. “Plus I’m not gonna take any vehicles without permission. Tried that once. Didn’t go so hot.”

Somehow, Marcy found herself giggling. She couldn’t pinpoint why; Anne’s honesty must’ve just been that funny. “Well, if you want to jump on the SS Joe Sparrow, I’d be happy to show you around and get you a front-row ticket to some action.”

“For real?” Anne beamed, only for her expression to melt into a frown, scratching her chin at the thought. “Aren’t you on ranger duty though?”

Okay, she had a point there. “I mean, yeah, but I’ve mainly done this stuff solo. Sure I’ve got Joe to accompany me but it’ll be interesting to have a second person on board for the ride.” Without a skip in her beat. “And why wouldn’t I have you go with me? Of course, I would. You’re always the best on road trips.”

And with that, Anne’s smile grew tenfold. Oddly beautiful. Oddly hard to describe. Weirder to even have herself think those things in the first place. “Count me in, then. Let’s go, Marbles!”

Oh well. She’d think about that later.

---

Joe softened his landings in-between. And at certain points, when the mountains dipped to valleys he rocketed around and buffeted the gales just for the heck of it. He had the heart of a little kid sometimes, every moment he swooped through some current or plummet forward if he got the chance. He liked to make himself seem so grand when he cheeped. And Marcy confided in the idea that no matter how aged this sparrow would become, he’d still be the softest avian around.

Always there. Always playful. Always…eager for potential mates. He was the total package for best mount in all of Amphibia, and Marcy didn’t want it any other way.

So with Anne, Marcy became delighted when Joe kept that same kindness. It wasn’t just Marcy doing rough landings against solid ground or her zipping through the air. There were two people, two people to consider on the back of his saddle.

And Joe never disappointed her. He pivoted, swerved on command, and coaxed giggles from the girl behind her, whose arms pressed tightly to her waist until their hair puffed out from the wind.

“Keep your arms locked in, Annie B!”

Marcy’s hands whipped the reins, whooping at the top of her lungs when the dive pushed oceans of air into their faces.

The straps and belts dug into their laps when Joe pulled up, braced them in a loop-de-loop that had their eyes rolling when they finally exited out to a steady level.

And Marcy could hear the laughter behind her.

The laughter spoke of so much joy and happiness, of a symphony that Marcy had heard so many times before, and Marcy leaned into her warmth when they passed from the hallowed groves to the shimmering Newtingale creaks.

All throughout the Southern sect, all throughout the faint rattle of Marcy’s heart.

---

The ride home had been a lot darker than Marcy expected. For most of her trips in and out of the valleys, a lot of her path-finding culminated in something one could describe as an adventure. If one described her and Anne beating up an entire bandit group disguised as a clown posse to be an adventure, then yes. That was what happened.

They went head-to-head, toe-to-toe. All while decked out in white makeup and smelly rotten clown noses. This all sounded ridiculous, but out in Amphibia, one should never ever underestimate a theatre group.

For entertainment was their cruelest weapon.

Anne had been the first to ambush the bandits during the mission. With the agile reflexes of a cat, she deflected each oncoming slash with ease while Marcy took aim, calculated her crossbow trajectory until the enemies all knocked unconscious in the mud.

If one ignored the clown get-up, then what she talked about seemed like a typical day for Marcy. Always saving someone. Always doing her best. Always making sure no newts got chewed up by some toad or frog dressed up in rogue wear.

But the difference today was that she had someone to accompany her. Or how that same someone jumped onto Joe and gave that feisty bird a few scratches to his feathers, trying to wash her face in the water bucket they stored earlier today.

It all seemed domestic-like. The kind that Marcy dreamed about in fantasy stories, where the protag had a close ally to travel the world until their dying breaths.

And gosh, it was so cool that Anne became that friend.

She seemed to enjoy it too, what with the close embrace when they finally took off for the night, her chin propped on her cloaked shoulder, or the fact her exhales drifted in crisp Amphibian air.

A sign that she was enjoying everything. Everything from the swoop of Joe’s wings, the purple haze of the night, or how the moon cloaked their forms in red lighting — masking the landscape in darkness like a blanket over bedding.

Anne sighed contently. Her face nestled close to Marcy’s neck. She didn’t show that she regretted being here.

Not one bit.

“I’ve never been this high up before,” she mumbled. “The only times I did were when some creature flung me up into the middle of nowhere.”

Marcy hummed to that. Anne's fingers ghosted the triceps of Marcy's arms, left goosebumps to form and bristle in the cold, it made everything feel weird. Comfortable. Safe. “So is this less traumatizing and more exciting then?”

“Oh yeah, definitely.” Her voice rang, all charmed and sweet. “By a long shot.”

And Marcy was glad about that. Ever since she found Joe, a lot of her adventures had gotten easier to deal with. From zooming over to the Dry Swamp to the many forests hidden deep underneath solid canopies, one of the many pros of having a steed like Joe was of the view.

A view that made scouting ten times easier. The kind that entangled her in clouds, the song of avians, and the dance of the breeze. The kind that chilled her nose, left cumulus droplets on her thumbs, and when she settled down from grazing the upper layers of oxygen her body’s equilibrium warmed her up like it always intended to.

To have Anne feel that same experiences — the same elation — made the trip all the more worth it. Especially when Marcy’s skin grew warmer under non-equilibrium circumstances. All due to the cuddly contact.

Oh, Anne.

“If you want, I know a froggy pitstop nearby that sells slushies twenty-four-seven,” Marcy said softly. Joe went into a descent, already maneuvered by Marcy’s quick hands at the reins. They weren’t going to land yet. At least until Anne said so. “Wouldn’t hurt to take in the view on a full stomach.”

“That sounds amazing.” Anne pressed closer, and Marcy tried not to think about the murmur, how low it rumbled against Marcy’s ear. Gosh, she must be really relaxed by now. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m ready for some grub.”

“Well, they aren’t really grubs more like a mish-mash of every insect on the palette.”

“I try not to think about it.”

With laughter escaping them, Marcy directed Joe into the forest space below, her heart synced with the beat of sparrow wings.

[whereisten]

Fuchsia-Colored Sunglasses 

Summary:

Your life is turned upside down when you’re transported into another reality by the enigmatic and mysterious old woman named Cyan. You find yourself an up-and-coming makeup artist whose latest client is the cocky fuchsia-haired rockstar Yuta Nakamoto. You struggle to find balance as Yuta is your most difficult client yet and you can’t seem to stop losing things in your apartment.

Meanwhile, Yuta is at the top of his game with his record-breaking band that’s about to tour and his perfect celebrity girlfriend. But he can’t shake the feeling that something is missing. When he meets you, however, he finally feels..at home.

In a reality where soulmates so rarely find each other, is it possible that the two of you will see the signs?

Pairing: Rockstar!Yuta x female reader

Genre: Soulmate AU, Fluff, comedy, a little smut, a tiny bit of angst

Word Count: 28.5K

Warnings: profanity, minor character death mention, alcohol mention

(A/N: we are so excited to finally post this for you guys!! It is for a collaborative project (A Colours AU) organized by the wonderful @neo-cult-ure . THANK YOU so much for inviting us to do this!! Please visit her tumblr for a complete list of all of the amazing works included in this project that we all worked so hard on❤️ with that being said, we hope you enjoy!! Thank you for supporting us!!)

[colours masterlist]: Click here to enjoy several amazing journeys :) 

——————

It really hasn’t been your day. There was just one problem after the other being thrown at you at work. Books often went missing at the library, but today an entire section was missing romance novels and no one seemed to know where they had gone. So you spent hours collecting them from other sections in the library, placing them on your cart as you moved through each lane. It doesn’t sound like a lot of work but for a library with 16 floors, it was just enough to make your head spin. Your day was long and boring.

And now, you learned that your favorite cafe was fresh out of your usual drink, an iced caramel latte, the perfect drink for a pick me up.

fantastic.

A sigh left your lips as you turned around the corner of the bathroom and walked face first into someone.

smack!

You stumbled back and then felt something wet on your clothes. Great.

“I..I’m so sorry about that.”  A lady’s voice caught you off guard as she quickly tried to clean up the situation.  She reached forward and grabbed your hands. A bit weirded out by the situation, you tried to pull your hands away but she didn’t let go, pulling you in closer so she could look into your eyes and capture your full attention.

“Dear, don’t be frightened, my name is Cyan and I am so very sorry...” Her eyes had a mysterious glow about them that you couldn’t understand. She seemed...otherworldly.

“Let me make it up to you.” Cyan said. “Here, pick a colour and you’ll meet your soulmate. However, you should be aware that each colour represents a different reality, and you only have one chance to bring them back to this reality.”

“Really?” you asked, clearly suspicious of the entire situation.

“Yes, now which would you choose?” she asked as she held out the tablet for you to pick a colour. You tilted your head to the side before just agreeing.

You typically liked to lay low, keep things normal and safe for your sanity. And love? Soulmates? Those were concepts that you never really thought too hard about. If it comes, it comes but you weren’t going to go out of your way for it.

But today was unlike any other day, everything went wrong, so what if...you did things differently for once? What if you took the chance to experience something...new? You had nothing left to lose, right?  

You reached forward to choose.

“Fuchsia.”

^_^

You sat at the kitchen table, your Bluetooth speaker playing your favorite song, “Breeze”. It was by the artist Mountain Man, whose identity was a mystery to the entire world. Your roommate Delilah came in to grab some orange juice from the fridge.

Delilah laughed. “I swear I dream of this song from all the times you play it.”

You replied, “This song is a religious experience. You should be so honored to dream of it.” You took a bite of your Fruity Pebbles.

Delilah joined you at the table as she searched something up on her laptop. “Today’s the bid for the Bulbasaur card I’ve had my eye on. I’m so nervous. I can’t go past eight five dollars so let’s hope my competition is just as cheap as I am.”

You rolled your eyes. “Eighty-five dollars for a trading card? Really?”

Deililah shook her head. “Sixty-five dollars for foundation, y/n? Really?”

You shut your mouth and keep eating your cereal. You and your roommate had your impulses...Well, your passions. Besides, an investment in good foundation only made sense given your profession as a makeup artist.

Delilah scrolled through her phone and frowned. “That’s weird. This looks just like your Hermosa Vida palette.”

That was impossible. You had the only one in existence. Last month, at the cosmetics brand launch for Hermosa Vida, you received a limited edition palette from two of your favorite makeup artists, Sol and Luna, who teamed up for their growing cosmetics empire. They gave you the limited edition trial of the palette before the official palette was released in stores. You were so excited to try it out but misplaced it two weeks ago. You knew you had to clean your room more often.

In fact, you’ve misplaced a lot of things recently: a pair of your favorite My Melody socks, a bracelet from your trip to Jamaica last summer, a pair of your reading glasses, and more. You knew people were bound to lose things but it seemed to happen more often to you. You didn’t think much of it as you were busy applying for your new job.

You stood behind Delilah so you could see the palette on sale for yourself. It was shaped like a clam shell and was rose gold. It even had Sol and Luna’s autographs on the bottom.

Just like yours.

You scanned the description of the product to find the username of the seller: 1026you.

“Wait, I thought I was the only one who owned this palette. It doesn’t make sense. If there was more than one of these palettes in existence, then there would be more on sale. But this one...looks exactly like mine,” you said.

“Maybe it’s a knockoff,” Delilah offered, “You know how people will fabricate anything to get extra cash.”

“The thing is...I lost my palette. It’s almost as if…”

Delilah scoffed. “You don’t think someone broke in and stole it?”

You considered it. “I don’t know, Delilah. I’ve been losing a lot of things lately...I think we should install some cameras in here. Just in case.”

Your roommate nodded. “Fine with me. It’ll make us both feel safer.”

So you and Delilah had cameras installed around the apartment. You hoped your first paycheck with your new gig would come in quickly. You contacted the seller and asked about the palette, asking where they’d bought it and how they had access to it. You asked so you could have some sort of proof that it couldn’t be the same as yours. But it looked exactly like yours. And it bothered you. Unfortunately, there was no response from the seller.

A few days after that, your Siamese cat Totoro disappeared. You weren’t too concerned as Totoro was an outdoor cat and he tended to wander. He would return soon, you thought.

^_^

Meanwhile across your hometown of Los Angeles, international rockstar Nakamoto Yuta stood in his bathroom, dumbfounded to find a portrait of a young woman looking over her shoulder.

Yuta said to himself. “Where the hell did this come from?”

His girlfriend Ashley called from the living room. “What’s that, babe?”

Yuta responded, “Nothing, Ash.” He’d rather not freak out his high-maintenance diva girlfriend.

It was strange how random objects kept popping up in his apartment. He asked Ashley about the palette but she denied it was hers. A bracelet appeared on his nightstand a few weeks ago and Ashley denied again, growing suspicious that Yuta was having someone over. But he didn’t owe any explanations to her.

Yuta always came up short with his security footage. There were glitches with the footage. The objects just...appeared from one frame to the next. This had to be some kind of joke.

Seeing a whole portrait pop up in his bathroom of all places was just part of his daily routine now. Guess I’ve got another thing I have to sell online, he thought.

Then again… He looked carefully at the painting. The woman in the painting was stunning. He wondered what her face looked like in reality. Gorgeous, he was sure of it. The woman wore an oval-shaped ruby necklace. The painting gave him both a sense of comfort and excitement. He couldn’t explain this clearly new but somehow familiar feeling. He decided to hold onto the painting for a while. He could always change his mind.

Ashley let out a blood-curdling scream. “Yuta! Get in here!” She sounded scared for her life. Could it have been the people who managed to break in and leave the painting among all of the other random objects? He ran into the living room to find Ashley standing on his plush couch.

“Is that...a cat?!” Ashley hissed as she looked down at a Siamese cat.

The cat watched her from the ground, swaying his tail back and forth. He simply watched her. When the cat saw Yuta, he walked up to him and rubbed himself against Yuta’s legs as he purred.

Yuta crouched down and pet the cat behind his ears. “Hey there, buddy. How did you get in here?”

“Yuta, you went and bought a cat when you know I’m allergic?” Ashley asked as she sneezed.

Yuta sighed. “I swear to you I have no idea how he got in here.” It was possible he ran in when Yuta opened the sliding glass door to his yard.

“Well...” Ashley sneezed as she grabbed her handbag and stormed out of the multimillion dollar mansion. “You better get rid of that thing if you ever want me to set foot into this house again!”

Ashley slammed the door and Yuta laughed as he sat down on the couch. The cat laid on his lap and pushed his head into Yuta’s hand so that he could pet him.. Yuta brushed his fingers through his fur.

“You know what, I think I’ll keep you.”

^_^

It was your first day of work with the world famous band Skylark. Sky High Entertainment reached out to you when they watched your most popular makeup tutorial. Now, you would be their makeup artist for their future engagements. Your first few weeks would be to assist the band in preparation for their first set of tour dates in Los Angeles for their Heaven on Earth World Tour. You were to meet the group and their team at the Staples Center. You weren’t too familiar with Skylar’s work because you were either fixated on the YouTube MUA community or repeatedly listening to Mountain Man’s music. You arrived early, too excited to start, and the band’s manager Baekhyun Byun told you that you were welcome to watch the group rehearse.

To say that the band was attractive was an understatement. You knew of their names and faces from the occasional Twitter posts. Plus, you had to memorize their names and faces for the job. However, seeing them in person was a whole other experience.

Drummer Johnny Suh’s muscular arms and intensity were reminiscent of Hercules as he twirled one of his drumsticks with ease. Mark Lee was the guitarist, looking like he was about to be cast for the next Spiderman with his sweet and goofy demeanor. He played a random guitar solo with his tongue out to get a reaction out of his cousin Johnny. Dong Sicheng was focused at the keyboard, looking as elegant and regal as a vampire prince. Bassist Jung Jaehyun’s every glance was more seductive than the last as he tuned his bass to perfection.

Last but not least was the frontman with the fuchsia colored mane: Yuta Nakamoto. His walk to the microphone at the center of the stage was unintentionally seductive, considering he was in a black hoodie and sweatpants like the rest of his band. He was at least six feet tall as his long strides made him walk with such grace and elegance. A man that was effortlessly gorgeous was definitely trouble. At this point, your jaw was on the ground. Every man on that stage was a god but Yuta was the frontman for a reason. He was undeniably the cutest of the group. In his all-black attire, he was the emo prince of millions of girl’s dreams: his slender face, his sharp cheekbones, his piercing brown eyes, a smile so bright it could make you go blind, his rockstar piercings which included a navel piercing and caused your thoughts to drift to places that weren’t suitable for the workplace…

From time to time, the band goofed off. Mark made a paper plane from the set list and threw it at Johnny. Jaehyun danced the latest TikTok dance while Sicheng filmed it with his phone. Yuta laughed as he borrowed the keyboard and wrote some notes down in his notebook.

When they got down to business, the boys completely transformed. They channeled angst and heartache when they began rehearsal. You recognized the song as their latest single: “Lost and Found”.

When Yuta sang, goosebumps ran down your back and your stomach twisted. Alarms were ringing in your head but they weren’t out of fear. But out of...excitement? You couldn’t describe this strange sensation.

Yuta transformed into a man who was heartbroken and confused. His voice danced into your ears and hearing it live made the lyrics more meaningful. Every word that left his plump lips lingered in the air. You couldn't get enough and felt your heart squeeze.

Yuta looked out to the audience as he always practiced how he would engage with the crowd. He earned several thumbs up from the staff, as expected. Then he turned to your section and could barely make you out as a silhouette in the darkness.

You saw that he focused on your section as he sang the second verse. Your heart skipped a beat. You’d have to listen to more of Skylark’s music from now on because they were fantastic. And maybe lurk on Yuta’s social media.

After rehearsal ended, Manager Byun introduced you to the rest of the team, including the other makeup artists. He walked you to the dressing room to introduce you to the band. For the first time in years, you were about to freak out like a fangirl.

“Boys, this is y/n. She’s our newest makeup artist. Please, I beg of you, don’t make her run for the hills.” Manager Byun laughed. You hoped he was joking.

The boys greeted you and shook your hand. Johnny was the most outgoing. “Pleasure to meet you, y/n!”

Jaehyun winked at you as he shook your hand. “Hi.”

Winwin gave you a childlike smile. “Thank you for joining us!”

Mark stuttered as he greeted you, “Uh, hi, it’s uh, really nice to meet you.” His cheeks were flushed.

You were overjoyed but knew you had to conceal your excitement. Still, you couldn’t help but hope for Yuta to greet you.

You all turned to Yuta who was busily texting away on his phone in front of his mirror.

Johnny cleared his throat. “Yuta, say hi to y/n.”

Then, you noticed he was wearing his AirPods. Johnny tapped him on the shoulder. Yuta looked up at him. “What? I was on the verge of a breakthrough, and now I won’t get it back. Thanks a lot.” Yuta rolled his eyes and looked back at his phone.

Johnny cleared his throat and you could see his smile twitch from his reflection in the mirror. “Say hi to y/n. She’s our new makeup artist,” Johnny said carefully. He sounded a lot less sweet, then.

Yuta sighed. “Fine.”

He got up from his makeup chair and walked up to you. His sour demeanor quickly shifted to bright and breezy. His megawatt smile appeared as he shook hands with you. “Hi, y/n. Pleasure to meet you.”

It was insincere and you knew it. You didn’t even bother faking a smile. “Pleasure’s all mine.”

It was the smile you’d seen all too often with celebrities and YouTubers whose egos grew faster than their subscriber count. It was the kind of smile they used to please sponsors and fans. A means to an end.

Yuta’s smile faded as quickly as it appeared. He quickly turned away and went back to his chair, put his AirPods in, and returned to his phone. You spoke too soon when you thought Yuta was your favorite member.

Mark whispered, “Don’t take it personally, y/n. Yuta is in his own little world most of the time.”

You weren’t surprised. Chances were one of these boys wasn’t what they seemed. You were disappointed it was Yuta, though.

For the most part, your first day went well. Everyone was warm and welcoming. You shared tips with the other makeup artists. But then, they dropped a bomb.

“You’re assigned to Yuta,” Manager Byun told you as you headed down the elevator. You just came back from a break.

You couldn’t control your initial facial expression.

Manager Byun laughed. “He won’t bite.”

You composed yourself. “Oh, I know…”

He understood. “He’s been working on a lot of projects. Some of which I don’t even know the full details of. So I apologize on his behalf for his rudeness.”

You shook your head. “But Manager Byun-”

He raised his hand. “Please, call me Baekhyun. Manager Byun makes me sound like I’m a father of three.”

You laughed. “Okay. Baekhyun, you don’t have to apologize for him. I get it. He’s a workaholic. I’ll gladly be his makeup artist.” It wasn’t like Yuta insulted you. He just wasn’t what you hoped he would be. Plus, you were there for a job and nothing else. So professionalism was always key.

Baekhyun put his hand on your shoulder. “Thank you, y/n. If he gives you trouble at all, the makeup team will make sure Yuta gets the wrong shade of foundation.”

You and the rest of the makeup team headed back to the dressing room where the boys were sitting in their chairs. They needed to get their makeup done for the filming of their tour diaries entry for this week. Yuta was still glued to technology. This time, he was on his laptop, and he was in the middle of producing a track, it seemed.

You gulped and tapped him on the shoulder.

“Excuse me, Mr. Naka-” You began.

“Yuta’s fine,” he barked back.

“I have to do your makeup,” you said as you started off with his primer.

“Fine,” he said as he closed his eyes, “Make it quick.”

His tone was even crabbier than this morning. You told yourself to keep it together. You wouldn’t let this diva jeopardize your job. He was a challenge and you would overcome this bastard.

Because Yuta was quiet and as still as a statue, doing his makeup wasn’t a problem. You made sure you were swift but neat. You didn’t want to poke the tiger again. All that was left was his eyeliner. You gave him an elegant winged eyeliner for his left eye. You were halfway done with his right eye when he interrupted.

His voice boomed. “Seriously, what part of ‘quick’ don’t you understand?”

He startled you so much that his liner shot straight up to the middle of his forehead.

You bit back your anger and your tears. You said calmly, “I was almost done, Yuta. If you hadn’t startled me for ten more seconds, I would’ve finished.”

Yuta looked in the mirror, his venomous tone matching the anger in his face. “You clearly lack experience if you let one thing I said get to you. Well? Don’t just stand there. Fix it.”

The rest of the staff and the band stood there, stunned to silence. You swallowed your pride and redid the liner on his right eye. He said nothing when you finished. He left the dressing room first.

You turned to everyone else, feeling humiliated and fearing what everyone would say. “Why is it so quiet?”

“Because you didn’t run for the hills,” Sicheng replied, smiling at you in admiration.

“Huh?” That wasn’t the reaction you’d expected.

Rin, your fellow makeup artist who was working on Jaehyun right beside you, said, “The last makeup artist Lily only lasted a week. Yuta’s been…”

“A stuck up bitch,” Jaehyun finished.

Rin sighed, “His words. Not mine. Before Lily, there was Halle. Halle was Yuta’s makeup artist for three years before she left for another project. Even before Halle left, Yuta was in a mood. No one knows what’s bothering him. He’s not usually-”

“A diva,” Mark added.

Rin applied some setting spray on Jaehyun’s face. “Once again, not my words.”

You worried if you crossed a line by talking back at him like you had. “Was I not supposed to say anything to him when he yelled?”

Everyone laughed. Johnny said, “Are you kidding? We dare you to tell him to stop bitching if he snaps again.”

You thought about it. “I just hope he gets over whatever he’s going through.”

^_^

Days passed and the sixth day of work went just about the same. You were in your element and over the moon with all of the high-end cosmetics at your disposal. Not even your sourpuss of a client could dampen your mood.

During one of your breaks, you sat alone in one of the unoccupied meeting rooms and listened to “Breeze” on your phone as you read some of your emails.

“The breeze made your hair sway. I fell in love that autumn day,” you sang aloud.

Yuta was headed to a meeting with Cartier but at the sound of your voice singing “Breeze”, he froze in his tracks. He pressed his ear against the door of the room you were in. The cracks in your voice were endearing. He smiled to himself.

He peaked through the window and hoped you didn’t notice him. You were seated at the table. Your legs were propped against one of the other swivel chairs. You tapped your fingers against the table. You smiled as you sang. Your smile was lovely. Your eyes were so full of joy and passion as you recited the lyrics, and for the first time, he actually looked at you and took in your features. Your singing voice wasn’t as calm and soothing as your speaking voice, but he still enjoyed hearing you. For the first time in a long time, he felt..something.

Seeing you smile that way made you the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen, he realized.

He couldn’t believe how much you loved his song. “Breeze” wasn’t doing as well as he hoped. The company CEO thought about scrapping his anonymous side project all together. He didn’t understand. Had he released the song with Skylark or under his own name would “Breeze” have charted better? It pissed him off. He was so proud of his composition. It was the first time he let himself be so raw and vulnerable. Because he wanted this project to be anonymous, he chose not to tell his bandmates or anyone else, really. The couple of staff members who did know were sworn to secrecy. It killed him that he couldn’t vent to anyone.

When the song ended, you said to yourself, “Oh, let’s just play this on a loop.” You played “Breeze” again and stretched your arms.

Seeing you love the song as much as he did made the dark cloud that loomed over his head fade a little. Perhaps he had been too harsh on you, he thought.

^_^

A few more days pass and you and Yuta seem to be getting closer. He’d actually put his phone down when you did his makeup, watching you as you patted his foundation in. For you, it was strange, but for Yuta he was mesmerized.

“I’m bored..let’s play 20 questions.” Yuta said as you spritzed his face with primer water one day.

“Uhhh..okay.” Your brows furrowed.

“Favorite movie, go.” Yuta asked before closing his eyes.

“Uhhh. Titanic?”

“Ew. Okay favorite group?” He smirked.

“Well..it’s not Skylark..” You huffed.

Yuta took in a sharp breath and held your wrist to stop you. “It’s NOT Skylark? Then who is it, who is worthy?” His eyes were intense, like you hurt him deeply.

“Hmmm...One Direction.” You were just messing with him, but you wanted to see his reaction.

He rolled his eyes and let go, leaning back in his chair and rolling his neck. “You can’t be serious...”

“What? They make good music! And isn't it my turn to ask questions now?”

“Shoot.” Yuta closed his eyes so you could do his eye shadow.

“Hmmm..what’s your favorite color?” You started.

“The color of your eyes...”

You froze for a moment, but then chuckled. “Yuta..seriously?”

Yuta’s eyes opened as he laughed. “I’m serious! They’re beautiful.”

You pouted. “I’m done playing this game if you’re gonna mess with me.”

“Are you going to ruin my eyeliner again because you don’t like my compliment?” He let out in a faux British accent and high pitched tone to mimic the queen. You couldn’t help but laugh and shake your head.

Yuta smiles widely when he hears your angelic laugh, your eyes crinkling and your cheeks becoming so round and full.

What was this new feeling that he had?

^_^

You’d be working with Skylark for a month now and you were enjoying your time with the team. However, it was pouring for the first time in a month in LA. While you would’ve been happy about it in any other circumstance, you were annoyed and on the verge of freaking out. Your second bus was running late to take you to the arena. You decided not to wait for the bus and make a run for it.

Your umbrella was helpful to a certain extent but you were drenched regardless. The rain continued to pour unforgivingly. When you were preparing to cross the street, a black Mercedes pulled up beside you. The passenger window came down and you recognized Yuta.

He was sitting there, looking amazing as usual. Only this time, his long, neon pink hair was thrown into a bun and he modeled a pair of heart-shaped, fuchsia colored sunglasses to match.

The way he held the wheel with one hand made your heart shudder for some reason.

“Get in!” He said.

You hesitated for a second. However, dryer clothes outweighed your pride at this moment. You hopped in, closed your umbrella, and shut the door.

Yuta grabbed your umbrella and put it in the backseat. “You’re soaked. I’m going to turn up the heat on your seat.”

“Thank you,” you mumbled.

Yuta drove you to work. He was surprised he could recognize you through the pouring rain. He had this inexplicable anxiety when he was at the red light before he saw you. He couldn’t explain it. He was doing okay for the most part. His last song for his first self-titled mini album was almost complete. Ashley was a pain but their respective managers were working towards a day when they could announce their breakup. His band was at the top of their game. His new cat was keeping Ashley away.

So what was this feeling that came out of nowhere?

And how did the feeling disappear just as quickly when you looked him in the eyes?

“Thanks for the ride,” you piped up.

Yuta cleared his throat, feeling shy all of a sudden. Very unlike him. “We’re both headed the same way.” That was Yuta’s attempt at sounding cool. He didn’t realize it could make him sound like a tool, you thought.

There was an awkward silence that suffocated you both. The traffic was unbearable so it looked like you would both be late for work.

Yuta blurted, “I don’t think I’ve said this before but...I’m sorry..”

You turned to him as he stared straight ahead. You were shocked that he was apologizing. You figured this man never apologized for anything, especially when he carried on with you at work like he hadn’t snapped at you on your first day. “Are you?”

He sighed as he slowed down. “Yes. I was a jerk and you were just doing your job. I really have no excuse.”

You replied, “Well, as long as you’re aware. Do you promise to keep the sass to a minimum? Or at least until after I’m done with your makeup?”

Yuta nodded. “Yes, I promise.”

You noted how down Yuta looked. Beneath the hostility and sarcasm, there was frustration and sadness. “I forgive you.”

Yuta smiled. “Thank you.”

Another awkward silence followed. And the rain poured down even harder so Yuta drove even slower. He turned up the radio and you both recognized “Breeze”.

You both sat back and listened to the song in silence. Without you realizing, Yuta snuck glances at you as you hummed and bobbed your head to the beat of the song.

“I love this song,” you blurted.

Yuta smirked. “Yeah, it’s great, isn’t it?”

“I would give anything to meet Mountain Man. His music is unlike anything I’ve ever heard. No one knows who he is. His identity is top secret,” you sulk.

Yuta beamed with pride that someone could be a fan of his mysterious persona. Without knowing his face or his true identity. It truly made him feel special.

Yuta bit back a laugh. “I know who he is, actually.” He wondered if he would regret telling you this.

You looked at him in shock. “What?”

“I can introduce him to you if you’d like but you have to promise me one thing.” Yuta was elated to see you so thrilled.

“Wait, really?!” You exclaimed as you unconsciously moved closer to him. “You’re not messing with me, are you?”

Yuta shook his head as he finally turned into the arena parking lot. “When we break for lunch, I’ll take you to him. I’ll call him over.” You gaped. “Oh, you don’t have to. He must be so busy. He doesn’t have time to meet me. I-”

Yuta felt a flash of jealousy over your consideration for someone whose face you didn’t even know (even if it was his other persona). “He won’t mind, I promise. Now promise me one thing when I introduce you.”

“What is it?” You asked cautiously.

Yuta put his car in park. “Promise me you’re free tonight. I need to go over some looks for my concept photos next week. I know it’s after work but I’ll buy dinner.”

Yuta did a full 180 on his personality. You were still recovering from the whiplash. And now he was doing you favors and confiding in you? You were on the fence but if you could meet Mountain Man, surely it would be worth it.

^_^

When it was lunch time, Yuta took you to the conference room. “Take a seat, y/n. Mountain Man just texted me. I’ll bring him in.”

You sat down in your unofficial swivel chair and fought the urge to pick at your nails. You were so nervous. To be in the presence of such talent. To be in the presence of the man who touched your heart with a three minute and fifty five second song. You had no idea what to expect.

Yuta came back quickly. With no one. He looked at you expectantly.

You got up to check if anyone was behind Yuta. “Uh, Yuta?”

“Uh huh?” He asked.

“Where’s Mountain Man?” You frowned.

He threw his arms up. “You’re looking at him.”

You got up from your chair and wrapped your arms around your chest in frustration. “Come on.”

Yuta was shocked at your reaction. “You don’t believe me?”

You shook your head. How can such a high-profile celebrity be an anonymous artist?

Yuta rolled his eyes. “Wow, you’re really making a guy work here, aren’t you?”

“I don’t get it. Why wouldn’t you just release your music with Skylark or under your real name? Why the anonymity?” You asked as you went back to your chair and collected your belongings to leave.

“Wait, don’t go,” Yuta pleaded, “I can prove it.”

He offered his notebook to you with lyrics that dated back two years.

“This is your lyric book?” You asked.

Yuta nodded as you flipped through the pages. “Songs I’ve written for Skylark. Songs I’ve written for my solo mini. And songs I’ve written for Mountain Man.”

You sat down and carefully absorbed all of the contests inside. You went to the first pages of the notebook and found the early drafts of “Breeze”, which dated back to a year ago. And right after those lyrics, there were the lyrics for Skylark’s Grammy-nominated song, “Hope and Flame”.

You looked up at him. “You…”

“Yeah,” he said as he put his hands in his pockets. “If you’re not convinced, I’ll take you to the studio and show you how I’ve used a voice modifier. Plus, you’re looking at lyrics of songs that won’t be released until next year. So if you’re willing to wait until then to see your proof, well…”

Well, he hoped those songs would be released next year. He prayed you would believe him.

You choked. “I...believe you.”

Yuta exclaimed. “Really?”

Yuta was acting very childlike today, you observed. You thought it was kind of cute. He may have dropped one of the biggest secrets in the industry but he was still your moody client.

“I can’t believe…you’re Mountain Man…”

Yuta sat down beside you. “You owe me.”

“After you introduced me to...you?” You laughed in disbelief.

He nodded. “You said you would give anything to meet me.” He was smug as he gave you a knowing look.

You scoffed. “I didn’t think you’d use it against me.”

He replied as he leaned back on the chair. “I’m not. I just thought I might impress you.”

“And why would you want to do that?” You teased.

He leaned closer and shrugged. “I’m not entirely sure. I guess I just wanted to.”

You blushed at his proximity and quickly turned away. “There you go again with the teasing.”

Yuta smiled wide. “So what do you want for dinner? Pizza or Chinese?”

^_^

You helped Yuta explore a few looks for his upcoming photoshoot before dinner that night.

You were adding some final touches to his heart-shaped lips. “Your lips are so pretty,” you said without realizing.

Yuta knew to hold still but his eyes opened at hearing you say that. You were so caught up in making up his face that you didn’t realize you were thinking out loud. Yuta chose not to bother you. He owed you that much.

“Okay, I’m done,” you said, “I gave you a more understated look. More neutral tones in your eyeshadow and highlighter. And I chose a brighter shade of pink for your lips. I get more of a romantic vibe from this look,” you said as you looked at his reflection in the makeup mirror.

Yuta looked straight at you. “I love it.” He was impressed with your careful attention to detail and how natural you made his makeup look. Out of all the makeup artists and stylists he’d worked with, you were the most attentive and cooperative. You always surpassed his vision for his look. You asked him for his opinions in case you needed to change anything. Most of the time, though, he was very satisfied with your work on the first go. You were the best makeup artist he’d worked with, he had to admit.

“You don’t want more eyeliner? What were you thinking with your piercings?” You asked.

He shook his head. “It’s perfect, y/n. Every look you showed me is perfect for the shoot. I just need you to be by my side when it starts. No one else touches this face but you.” Yuta explained with no trace of mockery in his voice.

Yuta was so open with you all of a sudden and all you did was breathe. How was that possible? And you felt a little more intimidated now that you knew that Yuta was behind your favorite artist. You remembered that first and foremost you were his makeup artist so you shoved your confused feelings aside. You would panic when you got home.

Blushing and still processing, you said, “Thank.”

“You?” He finished for you.

You blushed even harder. “Yeah.”

He laughed as you tried to compose yourself.

You removed his makeup so his skin could get a break. “What’s next?”

Yuta sighed. “We’re done, y/n. Let’s order something and I’ll drive you home. It’s late.”

You cleaned up your supplies while Yuta ordered pizza. You both liked extra Mozzarella cheese on top.

“So,” you said, “Can I ask you something?” You’ve been dying to ask him questions for hours but you’ve done so well to hold it in. You figured you’d indulge by asking at least one.

“Yeah?” Yuta sat up straight.

“Did you compose all of Mountain Man’s releases?”

He nodded.

“What instruments do you play?” You dared to ask one more question.

“Guitar, piano, drums, violin,” he said as he got up and grabbed his guitar from his case. “Thanks for reminding me. I have a melody stuck in my head, and I want to see if I can make something out of it.”

Yuta tuned his guitar and hummed to himself. He played a few chords.

“Whoa,” you said. “Just like that?”

He chuckled in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“You can make something so incredible and unique in an instant?” You asked, clearly in awe.

He shook his head. “I could only get to this point because I practiced every single day in grade school.”

You heard how lonely he sounded, then. “That must have been…”

“A pain in my ass, yeah. I gave up many trips to Chuck E. Cheese just so I could master the piano,” he grumbled.

“And you never gave up on practicing?” You asked, impressed. Had it been you you would’ve given up and found the next hobby.

“My parents pushed me hard from a young age,” he started, “They wanted me to become a world classical musician. Family honor and all.”

“What changed, though? Skylark isn’t exactly classical,” you observed.

Yuta replied, “I didn’t tell my parents but I started a rock band when I was sixteen. Johnny and Jaehyun have been by my side from the very beginning. We rehearsed in Johnny’s garage until we graduated.”

You grinned, just thinking about teenage Yuta rebelling against his family’s wishes. “That’s sweet.”

He laughed. “Yeah, Johnny and Jaehyun claimed they joined to meet girls but I knew they loved music just as much as I did. Johnny’s cousin Mark and Mark’s best friend Sicheng joined us a few months later and we were a force of nature. That was our first band name, by the way.”

You bit back a laugh. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Force of Nature,” Yuta replied, deadpan. “What’s so funny, y/n?”

You laughed, almost falling over in your seat. “That is so cute. You guys thought you were being edgy.”

Yuta grabbed a throw pillow and threw it at you. “I won’t tolerate mockery from the staff.”

You gasped. “I won’t tolerate a DICKtator.” You grabbed another pillow and threw it at him.

You both laughed so hard. Yuta grabbed an eyeliner pencil you forgot to pack up.

“You know, y/n,” Yuta started as he moved closer to you. “You’re alright.” He took your hand and slipped the eyeliner into it.

“You, too, Nakamoto,” you said, “You’re still paying for the pizza, though.”

Time passed as you two talked about your childhoods, your hobbies, and all about Skylark and Mountain Man.

“Man, what I wouldn’t give to go back in time and learn the guitar,” you said as Yuta mindlessly strummed his guitar and produced heavenly melodies.

Yuta innocently offered, “I can teach you.”

You raised your eyebrows. “In exchange for?”

He laughed warmly. “Nothing. Come over here and sit down.” He patted the seat next to him on the couch so you could join him.

You sat down and he placed his acoustic guitar over you. He moved closer to you, moving his arms over you. You could feel his chest against your back. He radiated warmth and your throat almost went dry.

Yuta took your left hand. “Now...you’re going to place your fingers up here. These are called the frets. I already tuned the guitar, okay?” His voice was very close to your ear and for a moment, you held your breath.

He took your right hand and placed it on the body of the guitar. “Let’s try an A chord.” His deep voice lowered even more and you felt your face heat up.

He took your left fingers and adjusted their positions. Never letting go of your hands, he instructed you to strum the guitar.

The chord sounded more beautiful than you’d expected it to be. “Whoa.”

“Nice,” Yuta said, “Then again, I did most of the work.”

You turned your head to him and his face was mere centimeters away from yours. “You are so-”

Yuta moved even closer. “Finish your sentence, y/n. I’m dying to hear what you have to say.”

You retreated. “Irritating.”

Yuta’s phone rang. The pizza arrived and you two fought over the last slice.  He was ridiculous, considering he ate four slices to your three. It was only fair you’d eat the last slice. Yuta got creative and used a plastic knife to cut the last slice in half. You accepted but you were determined to get your revenge.

Yuta drove you home. The night was calm, and the traffic was light.

“You live pretty far if you’re walking to the arena for work, y/n,” Yuta said as he pulled up in front of your building.

“I take two buses. Normally, it’s not a problem. It was complicated today because of the rain,” you said.

“Yeah, I thought we were going to get a massive flood,” he said, “It’s very unlike LA.”

You nodded as you took off your seatbelt. “Well, thanks for the ride.”

Yuta smiled and tipped his imaginary hat. “Thank you for your help tonight.” His smile was at its most radiant, then.

^_^

You wake up the next morning thankful for the weekend but a little sad that…Wait a minute.

You didn’t miss Yuta, you told yourself. The boy gave you whiplash and you were only beginning to get to know him. You had time to do some cleaning around the apartment. Maybe you could find a lot of your missing stuff so you could put that eBay account out of your mind.

It was already 2 PM and you couldn’t find the palette, your primary concern. You sighed. You looked around your spotless room and found some solace in the fact that it was clean and organized. Tidying up was its own therapy.

You called your mom and asked her about her day. You went through your jewelry box.

Your mom chattered on, excited like a schoolgirl, “Anyways y/n, Fred wanted to take me to a costume party tonight so I wanted to know...Do you think the black flapper dress would be better than the mod dress?” Fred was her serious boyfriend of three years. You had a feeling that he would propose anytime now and you were happy for them.

That good feeling quickly dissipated. “Oh, no.” Your most prized possession was missing. You knew it was missing because you always kept it in your jewelry box.

“y/n? Honey, are you okay?” Your mom asked over the line.

You couldn’t tell your mom that your grandmother’s ruby necklace was missing. “Yeah, sorry mom, it’s nothing. I got a little dramatic. Ran out of whipped cream for my sundae.” You lied.

You finished your conversation with your mom. You had no choice but to log onto eBay again. You searched 1026you and your suspicions were confirmed.

Your grandmother’s one-of-a-kind family heirloom was for sale. For one hundred dollars. It was a priceless heirloom that was worth at least ten times as much. You clenched your fists. “Son of a bitch.”

You messaged the seller again but knew he would never answer you. He’s ignored your other messages so what made you think he would respond to this one? You read through the site’s terms and conditions and there was no way to contest that the item was yours. You noticed that the item was up for bid and the bid would end in…

Ten minutes.

The current bid was at $100.

You scoffed. “Why the hell do I have to bid on an item that’s mine?”

You swallowed your pride and prayed that no one else would bid higher.

You placed a bid for $101.

Right away, someone else bid higher. $102.

This went on and on until your competition outbid you and won the necklace for $127.

“Son of a bitch!” You cursed again.

You sent 1026you ten consecutive messages telling them that they stole your necklace and begged them to respond as soon as possible. You knew it was hopeless.

^_^

You knocked on Yangyang’s door. He lived a few doors down from you and Delilah. You used to babysit him when you were in high school and college. Yangyang was a child prodigy, having graduated from MIT with a master’s in computer science at age sixteen. His parents still needed you to babysit when he was acing Physics at age ten. He always insisted he didn’t need a babysitter but you two developed a bond. It was to both of your surprise that he became your neighbor. He had a side hustle as a hacker. You hoped he could help you track down 1026you so you can give him a piece of your mind.

He opened the door. “y/n, what’s up?” He smiled wide. He still had that boyish wonder in his eyes.

“Hey, I hope I’m not interrupting,” you started.

“Not at all, come in,” he moved to the side so you could walk into his messy apartment. Video games were scattered all over his living room floor. He was in the middle of eating a bowl of ramen.

“Yangyang, I know I’ve been relieved from my babysitting duties for a while now but...ramen is not a proper meal,” you said.

“Shut up.” Yangyang laughed. “I’ll grill some meat later. Don’t worry.”

You laughed as you sat at his kitchen table. He gave you a can of Pepsi, knowing it was your favorite. “I need a favor, actually.”

Yangyang rejoiced. “At long last, you need my help. Never thought the day would come. You never let me help you with precalculus, even though you definitely needed it.”

Ignoring his roast for once, you responded, “Well...I need your hacking expertise. I know that this is going to sound crazy but...someone has been stealing things from my apartment and selling them online.”

Yangyang’s smile faded. “What the hell? So that’s why you installed security cameras at your place.”

“I didn’t get into it because I thought I was crazy but my grandmother’s necklace is missing and it’s one of a kind. And now…” You showed him the item that was sold.

“That’s your necklace,” Yangyang replied in shock. He recognized it from having known you for so long. You wore it on rare occasions like birthday parties. You preferred not to be photographed with it because you wanted to preserve it and keep it secret from strangers and acquaintances. You never knew who you could trust.

“Can you help me track down the seller?”

“y/n, that goes against eBay’s terms and conditions,” he replied.

You sighed. “I know but-”

Yangyang chuckled mischievously. “This should be fun.”

Yangyang worked magic on his computer to track down 1026you’s location. He was in Los Angeles, to your surprise. “Can’t get you the seller’s name but will an address do?”

“It’s perfect,” you said.

^_^

Yuta woke up from a nap on the couch. Totoro was sleeping on his stomach. He chuckled as he pet him. Yuta’s phone rang, indicating a notification. He checked his phone and saw that the ruby necklace he put on sale was sold to the highest bidder at the deadline. He also saw a bunch of messages from one account claiming he stole the necklace and he’d better respond to her.

“Crazy,” Yuta said as he ignored the messages.

^_^

“What do you think I should use for today’s luxurious bath, Totoro? The  ‘Cotton Candy’ bath bomb or the ‘Madly In Love’ bath bomb?” Yuta carefully picked Totoro up from his lap and placed him on the cold marble floor before standing up and stretching.

Totoro let out a loud “meow” and walked away from Yuta.

“I completely agree.”

Yuta threw his shirt off and headed to his bathroom, but he jumped once he opened the door. He had completely forgotten about the beautiful portrait that leaned against the counter. He stopped and tilted his head, really taking in the depth of color in the painting. He gazed at the stunning profile of the woman and the necklace she had on. He couldn’t understand how he had this undying urge to remember a memory he never had, to remember the moment he met this strange woman from the portrait.

He shook his head and started to run water for his bath, oblivious to the eyes that watched him through the small opening of the door.

^_^

You watched a shirtless Yuta stare at something for a few seconds. You couldn’t see what it was, but you really didn’t care, for Yuta’s abs were the real star of the show. Your mouth fell open, your heart started to race. Yuta was perfect in every way, and the twinkling piercing in his navel was the cherry on top.

But...wait.

You had to remember why you were here. Yangyang’s research found that this was the address of the person that was selling your precious necklace so you had to work fast. You already got lucky when you found a window in a first floor bedroom that was open.

You were shocked to see that it was Yuta’s house that you would have to break into, but once again, you just had to get your priceless possession.

Was Yuta messing with you? How could he do this and when could he do this? When would he have had time to sneak into your place and steal your necklace? Or was it his girlfriend?

Yuta shook his head before turning it to the side slightly. You jumped out of sight by moving to the side quickly. He interrupted your thoughts, but you had to get moving before he got out of the shower.

You looked around his enormous mansion, heading for what seemed to be his bedroom, for it was the biggest one at the top of the grand staircase.

Surely, there had to be an explanation for how your possession became his possession. Nonetheless, you were pissed that he decided to ignore your message and proceed to sell it. How could he steal something so meaningful to you then sell it? It’s not like he needed the money.

You looked on top of the California King-sized bed and then under it to see if you could just catch a glimpse of the shimmering ruby stone. But you found nothing. You then looked at his black dresser before stopping to gaze at his extensive earring collection. It was incredible.

A case full of hundreds if not thousands of earrings and jewelry stood beside the dresser. Your mouth fell open and your eyes widened. What if he stole jewelry? No-no, you shook your head at the absurd thought. This man had way too much money.

Then you heard him singing in the bathroom beside his bedroom. But his voice grew louder as he exited and entered the hallway to make his way to his room.

“Shit,” you whispered.

Your heart started to race. You're just moments from being caught so you look back to the dresser and spot it.

Your necklace.

It’s next to the small brown bag that it would have been sent in today, but you grabbed it just in the nick of time.

“BABAY!! Why DON’T YOU JUST MEET ME IN THE MIDDLEEE??” Yuta sang in the hallway and thanks to his boastful voice and the large ceilings that allowed for a beautiful echo, you heard him when he was just about to enter. You quickly dropped to the floor and rolled under the bed.

You covered your mouth to muffle your heavy breathing. He was pacing about, walking to and from his closet.

“Nah, don’t like this…” he threw a flannel onto the bed. He went into his closet and grabbed a black T-shirt, the 56th black T-shirt in his collection, to be exact.

“Nice.” Yuta continued to hum while spritzing on some cologne.

Yuta smelled amazing, like vanilla and roses, but you couldn’t help but be worried that you would be late for work if you couldn’t get out of his house right NOW.

“Hey, babe..” You heard a female voice say. It was his girlfriend. “Damn it,” you mouthed. Ashley was known for being one of the most gorgeous celebrities alive today. She had the perfect face with a dazzling smile to match, but rumor had it that she was a complete bitch behind closed doors.

You heard Yuta sigh and you could almost feel his eye roll. He was thinking of how much he hated himself for ever giving her a key to his house.

“What’s up, Ash?” He spoke to her like he was being forced to communicate with an Uber driver.

“Oh, don’t sound so excited to see me…” Ashley responded. She walked up behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist.

Yuta was fixing his earrings onto his ears when she embraced him. He looked at her through the mirror in front of them and gave a look of annoyance when she tilted her head to lock eyes with him.

“So...where were you yesterday? You missed our dinner date at the Venetian...Do you know how much it cost me to lose that reservation AND call off the paps?”

“I’m sure you can afford it.” Yuta walked away from her and looked at the dresser with a puzzled expression. Something’s missing, he thought.

You watched Yuta’s footsteps as he hesitated for a moment, but then he continued on into his closet.

Your eyes grew. Did Yuta really blow off his date at the most expensive restaurant in the city to be with you? He ditched $1,000 caviar and steak just to eat $12 pizza with you?

“You really like making me beg, don’t you, Mr. Nakamoto?” Her voice lowered as she leaned against the dresser and watched Yuta put his socks on.

“Where were you, daddy?”

Yuta hesitated for a moment. He didn’t like the fact that she thought he had to report his movements to her. She acted like she had to know everything that went on in his life. She was overstepping and Yuta wasn’t about to fall for it.

So he decided to piss her off.

“I was with..the new girl.”

Ashley stood up straight and crossed her arms. You nearly yelped out under the bed and revealed yourself.

“Who’s the ‘new girl’?” Ashley asked and you could just hear the fire in her tone. Even Charizard would be jealous.

“The new makeup artist..she’s sweet, I bought us food and we talked.” Yuta smirked and walked closer to Ashley who didn’t even try to hide her jealousy. Her perfectly plucked brows furrowed.

“I taught her how to play the guitar...she’s lovely, really. We had a great time.” Yuta was definitely twisting the knife and you couldn’t tell if he spoke of you fondly just to piss her off, or if he genuinely meant it. Either way, his words filled your chest with butterflies, and a smile tugged at your lips.

“Yuta...baby, you missed our date at THE Venetian to spend it with some talentless random who probably has a failing Youtube channel?” Ashley pouted. “Let me show you what’s lovely, Mr. Nakamoto.”

Yuta was about to protest, but Ashley held his chin and tilted it down towards her before placing a kiss on his lips.

The sound echoed in the large room and made you roll your eyes. She insulted you without having met you? What a bitch, you thought. No wonder Yuta was miserable.

She then took his hand and led him to the bed, pushing his chest lightly so he’d sit on the soft surface. She dropped to her knees and ran her hands along his thighs.

Oh no...please don’t do what I think you’re about to do. You squeezed your eyes tightly and prayed that Yuta would tell her to wait until later.

Yuta huffed and puffed but indulged her, allowing her to have her way because he just couldn’t be bothered. She unbuckled his belt while looking into his low eyes.

“You’re stressed, baby, that’s why you spent time with a total stranger. But don’t forget you have me.” Ashley licked her lips before taking his pant zipper in between her teeth and dragging it down.

“I can’t wait to taste you, Mr. Nakamoto.” Ashley kissed his pelvis. She was too busy to see Yuta cringe at the name she called him. God, did it feel weird.

“Just...m-make it quick. I have to go.” Yuta licked his lips, letting his head fall back as he closed his eyes in anticipation.

Shit. You mouthed again. You were about to hear the most disturbing sounds of your life and there was nothing you could do, nowhere that you could go. Could you sneak out on the other side without them noticing? Shit shit shit shit.

Ashley sneezed before she could place her mouth on Yuta again.

Yuta looked down in annoyance.

She quickly swiped at her nose then retook her position.

She puckered her lips to lay a kiss on his growing bulge, but she sneezed again.

Several more sneezes followed and Yuta was getting frustrated. He slowly became turned off.

“Damn it, do you still have that ugly cat? I’m suffering here!” She yelled before laying out four back-to-back sneezes.

“So am I.. I gotta go, Ashley.” Yuta rolled his eyes and stood up. He brushed past her, where she still knelt on the floor, and walked towards the dresser.

“Make yourself useful and mail this-” Yuta’s sentence trailed when he didn't see the necklace. The brown envelope was there but the necklace was no longer beside it. “What the hell, I could’ve sworn...”

He looked into the brown bag then onto the floor and the rest of the dresser. Sure enough, the necklace was gone. “So it disappears just as quickly as it appeared? Shit.”

Your brows furrowed. What did he mean by “appeared?”

“Have you seen-?” Yuta was about to ask.

But suddenly, your phone started to vibrate in your back pocket. You quickly reached towards it to silence it so it would no longer make that grinding sound while shaking on the floor.

Luckily, Ashley was still sneezing so it covered up the sound..or so you thought.

“What was that?” Yuta turned and looked about the room for the source of the sound.

Ashley finally stood up and walked towards him. “I’ll just drive with you to work! We can finish what we started...” She gave him a wink before sniffling.

Yuta grimaced and grabbed his keys, brushing past her once again to head out the door.. “Whatever you say, Ash.”

Ashley practically skipped behind him. Finally, the room was empty. You swiftly dragged yourself from under the bed and stood up.

You heard them argue downstairs so you decided that you would climb out from the patio attached to Yuta’s room. Yangyang made sure to deactivate Yuta’s entire security system, including his cameras, so you could enter and leave without detection.

You took a deep breath before jumping from the porch and into the bushes below it. You tried not to scream as loudly as you wanted to. How you didn’t break your legs, you weren’t sure, but you were somehow able to leap back onto your feet and book it for the main road, sliding through the gate while Yuta and his girlfriend waited for the garage door to open so they could drive out.

By the time you got to work, you were covered in sweat, leaves, and dirt. You smelled and looked like you had been camping for at least 23 days in the Appalachian mountains, but it didn’t matter. You finally had your necklace.

“You good, y/n?” Manager Byun gave you a puzzled expression as you hurriedly took your tools out of your kit and placed them on the vanity for Yuta. You were somehow able to get there just minutes before him.

“I’m okay! Had a slightly...difficult time getting here, but I’m ready!” You gave him a smile so forced, you thought your face would be stuck like that forever.

He nodded slowly but still looked confused.

Just then, Yuta entered. His smile was bright and so beautiful. You melted like chocolate in his sunny smile when his eyes were glued to yours as he entered.

But your feelings of admiration soon dissipated when you saw his girlfriend behind him. She held up a compact mirror and was fixing her lipstick as she walked in.

I guess they did finish what they started...

Your smile fell. You didn’t know why you were sad and disappointed. It’s not like your one night with Yuta actually meant anything. He had a girlfriend, and not just any girlfriend. A celebrity girlfriend that was just listed as the person with the second most beautiful face in the world, behind Zendaya of course. Yuta was lucky, there’s no way he’d drop her for you.

You looked away as he walked over. He could feel a shift in your mood immediately. Your eyes were so big and bright when he entered and now you shifted your focus to organizing your makeup and covering a look of sadness that he could clearly see.

Yuta said ‘hi’ to everyone but stepped quickly over to you.

“Hey...y/n...it's nice to see you again.” Yuta gave you a half smile that really tugged at your heartstrings. How could he manage to make you so weak?

“Hey, Yuta.” You gave a short answer, and he could tell you were upset. You weren't nearly as cheerful as you were yesterday. Then..he noticed how disheveled you were.

His face became serious. He touched your arm and it felt like sparks dancing along your skin.

“What’s wrong?” he asked quietly while the other members and the manager went about their business.

You tried to avoid his magnetic gaze, but couldn't.

Your mouth opened as you looked into his eyes. “I’m-”

“Hi! Nice to meet you, are you the new makeup girl?” Ashley pushed herself in between you and Yuta and obnoxiously smiled in your face to push you further away from Yuta.

“Yes.” You pucker your lips and glance at Yuta who looked beyond annoyed.

“Well, you certainly don’t look like a makeup artist..” Ashley chuckled.

You scoffed. “What?”

“I mean, look at your nails.. Are you sure you want to touch my boyfriend's perfect face when you’ve got an entire ecosystem under your nail bed?” She grabbed your hand without warning and held it up for both you and Yuta to see the dirt that had gotten under your nails when you had jumped off of his patio and held on to the ground for support. You were running late so you didn’t get a chance to go to the restroom to clean up, but of course you would wash your hands before touching his face.

“I-” you started, but she interrupted you once again.

“That’s not very professional of you...”

“Ashley! Stop, don’t you have a photo shoot to get to?” Yuta took your hand from her and lowered it to your side, but he didn’t let it go. He stood beside you and looked onto Ashley with disappointment. Your heart became warm as he squeezed your hand to let you know that he had your back.

Ashley chuckled. “People come and go pretty fast here sweetie..let’s see how long you last.” She rolled her eyes before pushing herself in between the two of you, breaking off your linked hands in the process. How could someone so beautiful also be so ugly?

“I’m so sorry about her.” Yuta turned to you.

You nodded. “She’s right. It's very unprofessional of me to come to work like this.”

Yuta shook his head. “Don’t worry about it, y/n. Things happen..Let me show you where the shower is.”

^_^

Yuta led you to the locker room where the shower was. He handed you a tshirt and sweatpants that he had asked the manager to keep in a locker for him just in case he needed to change after sweating too much.

“Why are you dating someone so...mean?” You asked while you followed Yuta. You didn’t think twice about your question, and really, you had no right to ask him. He was just your client, not your friend.

Yuta chuckled. He turned to you and raised his eyebrows. “I smell some jealousy.”

You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, she’s pretty or whatever, but trust me I am not jealous. I just don’t understand how you could be with someone like that..”

“I’m not a saint either, y/n..we’re perfect for each other..or at least our agencies think so.” Yuta paused. He wondered if he should let you in on yet another secret, but he didn’t notice that his eyes had trailed to your lips, adoring the way they formed a small pout.

You laughed. “You have a point, you weren’t exactly the nicest to me when I first started working for you...”

Yuta grinned when he saw your bright smile and your doe eyes as you laughed again. You were like a breath of fresh air, unlike anyone he’d ever seen. His spirit was instantly drawn to you, for you calmed him. You were just a stranger yet you felt like home.

“I’ll make it up to you...How about I teach you more about the guitar after the shoot?” He stepped closer, anxiously awaiting your approval like a boy that just asked his crush to prom.

You started to blush, his face was so close to yours, you had to look into his eyes.

You took in a sharp breath. “Are you sure your girlfriend will be okay with that? I don’t want you to stand her up again, she’ll probably stab me with an eyeliner pencil.”

“Again?” Yuta’s brows bunched together, but he still gave a teasing smile.

sHIT.

“O-oh i mean, surely you’ve stood her up at some point, right? She’s a total b-”

Yuta burst out into laughter.

You looked at him with worry on your face. “W-what did I do?”

“You’re adorable, but I just can’t take it anymore.” Yuta reached his hand out to the side of your face and gently removed a long vine that was tangled in your hair. He then removed a large, green leaf that stuck out of your disheveled do.

He calmed down. “There we go..much better. Even nature loves your beautiful face.”

Beautiful face.

Your heart began to race for the third time in one day. Too much was happening, you thought you would pass out. Did Yuta really just say that you were beautiful?

He cleared his throat when he realized that the words he was thinking actually came out while the two of you stood awkwardly in the locker room.

“Yuta?”

He smiled, just the sound of you saying his name made him weak for some reason, what was happening to him?

“What?”

“You’re staring..” you chuckled.

“I’m getting inspired.” he gazed at your eyes then your lips as he spoke in a softer tone.

“By what?” You tilted your head.

“By you.”

“Mountain Man, you really have a way with words, I bet you say that to all your groupies.” You rolled your eyes and brushed past him, walking towards the shower.

He spun around and grabbed your hand. Your breath hitched when you turned to look at him, his full lips parted and eyes begging for something.

“I...have to tell you something..”

He looked so serious for once.

“Ashley and I are in a fake relationship. It’s all a publicity stunt that our labels set up. I don’t love her...But I’m telling you because I feel like..I can really talk to you.”

“I can’t say I’m surprised, Yuta.” you gave a small smile. “I’m just your makeup artist, but if you want to talk to me, I don’t see why not. You’ve already told me two major secrets.”

Yuta laughed out at your response, a strand of his beautiful fuchsia hair falling into his forehead, making him look even more handsome than he did before.

He stepped closer.

“Wash up quickly, for me..the shoot starts soon.”

Yuta winked and walked away leaving you a blushing mess.

“Also, remember we have a guitar lesson later.”

For me.

Why did he have to say it like that? Wait, why were you even affected by that? Could your heart calm down when you were around him for more than five seconds?

^_^

You walked into the dressing room in your new comfy outfit and headed straight for your section. The sweatpants Yuta gave you didn’t have pockets, so you had to wear the necklace around your neck. You tucked it under your shirt to make sure that no one would see it on you.

“Wow, I wish I was wearing that instead of leather pants right now...” Johnny pouted when he saw you in Yuta’s Nike sweats.

“You look great! Always remember, beauty is pain,” you gave him a wink and continued to place your tools in order.

“You must be in pain all the time then, y/n.” Yuta exclaimed as he approached his seat.

Everyone in the dressing room let out ‘oooooo’s’ like primary school students.

You blushed but turned away quickly so he wouldn’t see. “Always teasing me, I swear one day you’re gonna pay.”

“Can’t wait for that day.” Yuta relaxed into the chair.

You leaned forward and started to place the concealer under his eyes with a small brush. You took your time and blended carefully, but felt your face become hot when you realized that he was staring at you intensely.

You couldn’t hold it in anymore. You stepped back to laugh and shook your head.

“What’s wrong? Am I making you flustered?” Yuta smirked.

You rolled your eyes then leaned in towards his face. He suddenly sat up straighter, moving forward so that his lips would be just a few centimeters away from yours.

“Stop teasing me. We don’t have time.” You blushed once again and stepped back.

Yuta bit his lips and chuckled. “Oh, so demanding.”

You were doing his eyeliner when you tugged at the collar of the men’s shirt. It was choking you slightly because it was higher than a regular T-shirt. That’s when your necklace popped up and rested on top of the shirt instead of under it.

“Wait...where did you get that?” Yuta leaned back.

“What?” You narrowed your brow, for you didn’t understand why his demeanor became so serious.

“That necklace...”

Shit.

“Did you steal that..from me?”

Then it all clicked for Yuta. You were in his house. You eavesdropped on his and Ashley’s conversation. That’s how you knew that he stood her up the night before. And that’s why you came to work all sweaty and out of breath.

“What are you talking about?” You backed away from him, but he stood up quickly and snatched the necklace from your neck furiously. The sound of the chain breaking frightened you and you became just as furious. This bastard had no idea what he had just done.

“Yuta!”

Everyone turned to you two once your voice rose.

“What the hell are you doing? Give it back!” You demanded.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket as he examined the necklace, the shape and cut of the ruby stone and the unique gold chain that it hung on.

He compared the necklace to the picture he posted on his eBay account, and sure enough, it was the same necklace.

“You stole this from my house! You stole from me! I thought I could trust you! What are you, some crazy stalker?!”

“Wait, you’re user 1026you! You’re the crazy one! You stole from me so that you can sell MY jewelry online! You also stole my limited edition eyeshadow palette!” Your voices escalated and everyone else in the room became quiet.

“This crazy bitch! Why the hell would I steal from someone like you?” Yuta gave you a look of disgust and looked down on you like you were a poor dog. You really hated his guts now. He towered over you as he yelled, but you weren’t scared. You were just angry that he had the audacity to lie in front of everyone like this.

“I can’t steal something that was already mine!”

“It was never yours! It was in MY house, and I have the proof right here!” He held up his phone as Manager Byun walked over.

“What’s going on here?” The manager was both puzzled and surprised that you were in a yelling match with the member that no one dared to fight.

“This delusional girl that you decided to hire is a stalker! She broke into my house and stole my necklace.”

“YOUR necklace? You’ve really lost your mind! You stole it from me first.” You shouted back.

“Okay, okay everyone calm down. y/n.. Did you break into Yuta’s house?” the manager turned to you.

“No-I mean, yes, but only because he was going to sell it and it’s precious to me. He ignored my messages and blocked me on eBay before I could explain!”

“You broke into my client’s house?” Baekhyun gaped.

“She sure as hell did. Security!! She tricked me and got close to me just so she could steal from me and learn my secrets. How much were you gonna sell this for, huh? But the worst part is that I trusted you like a fool,” Yuta stepped forward as he spewed hateful and untrue words.

Your eyes started to water, you struggled to hold back tears. “Yuta, you know that’s not true. The necklace was never yours! It belonged to my grandmother and means so much to me.”

“Prove it.” Yuta was angry beyond words, he felt betrayed.

You struggled to think of any way to prove that it was yours. The security guards took your arms and placed them behind your back while pulling you away and out of the room.

The only thing that could prove that the necklace was yours would be the painting that your grandmother made of you when you wore the necklace. The painting that you just now realized had also gone missing.

“No! Don’t do this! I’m not a stalker.” You struggled to stay still as the guards dragged you out.

“She’s delusional! How could you hire someone like that? She put me in danger!” Yuta marched off to the bathroom so he could cool down.

“Yuta-wait. y/n...We will be pressing charges, I’m calling the police.” Manager Byun pulled out his phone.

^_^

A few hours passed and the news broke of what happened.

Crazy Stalker poses as Makeup Artist to Break into Yuta Nakamoto’s home!

BREAKING: MUGSHOT OF DELUSIONAL STALKER OF YUTA NAKAMOTO RELEASED

How did she pull off the perfect plan and is Yuta Nakamoto in danger?

You sat on the bench in your cold cell and wiped your eyes. Everything went bad so quickly. Yuta and basically the entire world thought you were a stalker and there was nothing you could do to prove your innocence. Yuta had the audacity to accuse you of stealing something that was never his to begin with.

And now, you could hear his fans chanting hurtful messages.

“She’s a crazy stalker, We will protect Yuta!”

“Yuta, we love you!”

“SHE DOESN’T DESERVE FREEDOM”

You were so confused, but the part that hurt the most was that your most prized possession was gone and probably in the air on some shipping company's airplane being delivered to some oblivious buyer.

What could you possibly do to make everything right at this point?

Yuta, on the other hand, was at home being coddled by his oh so caring girlfriend.

He laid down on his plush, velvet couch and pouted.

“It’s gonna be okay, Yuta. I swear we’ll get the best lawyers. She’ll never see another day outside!” Ashley got up from the couch and paced about.

“I knew I had a bad feeling about her.”

But Yuta disagreed. He never had a bad feeling about you. He thought you were sweet and kind, he thought everything about you was genuine especially when compared to the fakeness that surrounded him in his lifestyle. How could he have been fooled like this?

He told you two major secrets and now he’d probably have to drop the charges in exchange for your silence.

You really got to him because you seemed to be the biggest fan of Mountain Man, you seemed to appreciate his hard work, but now he didn’t think any of your praises were genuine. He couldn’t even go on social media. All the hashtags were ALWAYSHEREFORYUTA, WEWILLPROTECTYUTA, CRAZYSTALKER.

And they just reminded him of how weak he became.

“LOOK! TMZ just got her mugshot! I’m so happy they’re exposing this bitch, I hope they release her address and family information.”

Ashley smirked when she pulled up the picture of your mugshot on Yuta’s phone.

“Ashley...you need to leave...” Yuta sat up on the couch and looked at the floor. He couldn’t take anymore of Ashley’s annoying voice and he really wanted to be alone to relax and decompress after what happened.

“Oh, my poor little meow meow, I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you.” Ashley sat back down on the couch beside him and tried to take his jaw in her hands but he backed away.

“Not now, Ash..I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Ashley scoffed and slowly got up from the couch.

“Okay...let me know if you need anything.”

Yuta breathed a sigh of relief once he heard the front door close. He could hear tons of fans outside of his front gate cheering for him when she opened the door and it made him sick. He doesn’t feel proud. Because the truth is, the necklace wasn’t his. It just “appeared.” But here he was defending his possession of it and it didn’t feel right.

Yuta bit his lips then looked down at his phone which was still open with the article that included your mugshot.

He looked away at first, but then looked back down when something caught his eye. He looked more closely at the photo.

Your eyes.

He’d seen them before. Of course he had, but this time..they were different. They reminded him of something, someone.

The color of your cheeks and the depth of your beautiful eyes, the tone of your gorgeous soft skin and the curve of your lips. He had seen it before.

It took him a moment to realize.

The painting.

You were the woman in the painting that found itself in his bathroom. You were the same woman that wore a necklace just like the one he sold.

He looked over the messages you sent him on his seller account. It was like clockwork, every time something appeared in his house and he posted it online, you would message him about it to ask that he return it.

She was telling the truth. Yuta thinks to himself. He could punch himself right now. He was so rude to you for no reason. It was your stuff that kept popping up in his house and he didn’t understand why, but he knew that you were innocent. The painting was huge so it’s not like you placed it there by yourself to mess with him.

He threw on his jean jacket and headed out the door to go to the police station.

He had to fight through the screaming fans outside of the station that were waiting for a chance to attack you, the police officers gathering around him to move him through the hectic crowd.

Once inside, he went to the front desk and immediately told the officer that he wanted to drop all charges against you.

“You’re one lucky girl...” The officer said as she opened the gate of your cell.

“What?” You looked up at her questioningly and stood up from the wooden bench that had made your butt sore.

“He’s here for you..you know, the good looking rocker dude.” She unlocks your handcuffs and walks you out of the cell.

You’re relieved but can’t seem to smile, what’s going on?

Yuta was signing paperwork as you walked up to him.

“Yuta..you asshole.”

“That’s no way to speak to the man that just got your ass out.” Yuta looked up and sighed.

You scoffed. “You’re the one that put me in there! And I’m supposed to thank you?” You pushed past him and headed for the door. You started to walk down the stairs, but you were quickly stopped by the officers that stood out front.

“What the-“ you started when you saw the enormous crowd outside of the station. They were Yuta’s fans and paparazzi. They rapidly snapped so many pictures of you, you had to close your eyes and cover your face, the flashing lights being all too much for you. All you could hear were the thunderous ‘boo’s’ of Yuta’s fans.

Yuta was used to noise and flashing bright lights so he quickly came up behind you and turned you around. He held your head and pressed it onto his chest lightly.

You started to cry when you heard the names everyone was calling you over a simple misunderstanding. How could you be a ‘normal’ person after all this? All you wanted was your necklace and now you were overwhelmed by this new and unwelcoming spotlight.

“Shhh..don’t cry, it’ll be okay..I got you.” Yuta whispered into your ear as he patted your head softly.

You relaxed into him more, enjoying the comfort of his broad chest.

“Put your arms around my neck. Just trust me, okay?” Yuta’s soft tone made you shudder even though you still hated him.

But you did as he instructed.

He then picked up your legs and held you in his arms bridal style. The fans roared even louder but Yuta ignored them. He marched down the stairs towards his car while police blocked them from the two of you. He was able to lay you down on the backseat of his Range Rover before jumping into the front seat and speeding away from the madness.

Once the two of you were somewhat safe and far from the police station and his fans, Yuta exhaled.

He turned to look at you when he got to a red light. You were huddled up with your back facing him while you laid down on the surprisingly comfortable backseat. You had stopped crying, but you were still angry.

“Listen, I’m just as frustrated as you are. But we need to talk about this. What the hell is going on?” Yuta let out.

“I don’t know, maybe we should’ve talked before you had security take me away. Then all of this shit wouldn’t have happened. Oh and frustrated?” You scoffed.

“Did you just spend over 8 hours in a cold prison cell for stealing a necklace that belonged to you in the first place?!”

“You’re the one that broke into my house! Why didn’t you just tell me?”

“I tried to message you but you insisted on being a jerk to make quick cash off of someone else’s belongings.”

You pulled your phone out of your pocket.

“Have you seen this shit? Your girlfriend just had a press conference and is calling for all makeup brands and agencies to swear to never hire me! I hate you, I can’t believe you put me in jail and essentially, ended my whole career!”

Yuta sighed. “I’m sorry, y/n. I really am, don’t look at social media right now, and your career isn’t over, we’ll get this sorted out.”

“How did you find out the truth anyway?” You asked.

“I recognized you in the painting, you had the necklace on.”

“The painting? Wait, you have that too?” Your eyes widened.

“Yes, and I was stupid to not realize it was you sooner. I—was an idiot, y/n. I hope you can forgive me. As a matter of fact, you can expose me as the Mountain Man if you want, you can expose everything.” Yuta was genuinely sorry for what he put you through. The whole world knew who you were now. You were famous, but not in a good way. Yuta had millions of fans and you were pretty sure you were the second most hated person in the world on twitter right now, behind Donald Trump of course.

“Yuta...I don’t want to get even with you, I want my life back.” You closed your eyes and started to drift off into a deep sleep while he drove.

Yuta cursed himself, he felt a bond being created with you and now he ruined it. And he had to admit that he had started to admire the woman in the painting, the woman he wanted to know even though his soul felt he already knew her. And now, the beautiful woman was right next to him, and yet, so far away.

^_^

When you got back to Yuta’s place, you entered through the garage so no one could see you get out of his car.

Yuta took you to his security room where he could watch footage from all of the cameras inside and outside of his house.

He reached for your hand to guide you through the large mansion, but you didn’t take it this time.

You huffed and rolled your eyes.

“Explain to me why you keep taking my stuff.”

“I don’t take anything. It just..appears.” Yuta walked quickly to the room.

“I'm gonna prove it to you right now.”

Yuta pulls up footage from the night the painting appeared in his bathroom, but every time he fast forwards to the exact moment that the painting appears, the footage cuts out.

“Did you see that? The second that my camera cuts to black is the moment that the painting just magically appears.”

You blink rapidly. “Play it again.”

Yuta replays it and you both watch the unexplainable. Chills run down your spine as you are creeped all the way out.

“I’ll show you the night your necklace popped up in my kitchen.”

It felt like you were watching something from Paranormal Activity and although you were a big fan of horror movies, you sure didn’t like being in one.

The same thing happened. There is a second of footage that is cut out and right after, the footage plays again with the new item in frame. It didn’t make any sense.

Yuta looked at you as you stared at the screen and tried to make sense of what he saw.

You were so beautiful, your long lashes batting slowly, your pursed lips and cute nose. Why was he so drawn to you? The magnetic pull he felt towards you became even stronger now that he knew you were the woman in the painting.

“Where is it now, Yuta?”

“Where’s what?” Yuta was only thinking about your face. For a moment, he forgot what you were even doing there.

“The necklace.” Your doe eyes shifted upwards to his.

Yuta sighed and looked away to the floor. “I—was upset, so I already sent it to the buyer.”

You closed your eyes and let out a slow breath.

“Yuta...we have to get it back, you don’t..you don’t understand.”

“They won’t give it back to me, y/n. They already know that I’m the user that sold it, it’ll be even more valuable now.”

“But it’s priceless to me, Yuta!” You yelled before tears ran down your cheeks.

“y/n..” Yuta stepped forward to hug you, and you let him. His arms held you tightly. “We’ll work this out, I’ll get it back if it means that much to you.”

“My grandmother was a painter, she’s the one that created that painting for me. She was the best..” you sniffled as you rested your head on his chest again.

“She was the one that taught me about creativity, color and believing in your art.. she’s the one I looked up to when I was growing up. I spent most of my time with her when my parents would fight..which was pretty often.”

Yuta smoothed your hair as you spoke.

“But one day, she lit a candle..she forgot to blow it out before falling asleep on her couch and a fire started to spread..”

“y/n..I’m so sorry.”

“The oil paintings allowed for the fire to become huge and made it impossible for her to escape..she died before firefighters could get to her, the only thing that survived the fire was that necklace. She held onto it..for me. She said she would give it to me one day when I was old enough.” You sobbed once more.

“y/n..I promise you I will do everything I can to get it back.”

You sniffled then looked up at Yuta. “Please, Yuta.”

He nodded. “ I promise.”

Just then you felt something walk between your ankles. When you looked down, you were startled to see your cat, Totoro.

“What the hell? Why do you have my cat? I’ve been looking for him everywhere, but he’s old and just kinda does what he wants.” Totoro’s abrupt entrance makes you stop crying.

“What? YOUR cat? He’s in my house, he’s mine now.” Yuta says sternly.

God, why was he so possessive?  

You looked back up at him and pushed his chest away, you suddenly remembered the kind of man Yuta was.

“He’s MY cat, you fool. You didn’t even raise him. You probably lured him in here by giving him food!” You picked Totoro up.

You still hated Yuta, however, it was like a weight had been lifted once you told him about the significance of the necklace.

You turned to leave Yuta’s place through the back entrance you entered through.

“Prove it, prove he’s yours, what’s his name?” Yuta looked hurt that you were taking Totoro away from him.

“It’s Totoro, bitch.” You rolled your eyes and continued walking straight-faced with your cat in hand.

Yuta’s eyes grew, he was left speechless.

The two of you finally got to the garage.

You turned to him.

“You owe me a ride home, and after that, I never want to see you again.”

^_^

Yuta drove you back to your apartment, apologizing multiple times. This day he apologized more times than he has ever apologized for anything in his life. It had to be some sort of record.

You were tired because this truly had been one of the longest days of your life. You wanted a warm shower and to hug Totoro to sleep.

Yuta parked his car in front of your building and turned to look at you. “y/n...”

“Thanks for the ride back,” you muttered as you and Totoro walked back to your apartment.

You looked so dejected and devoid of any emotion. This entire misunderstanding did a number on you. And it was his fault. He had to act fast if he was going to make this up to you.

Little did you know that a pair of serpentine eyes watched you from across the parking lot. Ashley laid low in a car she typically wouldn’t be caught dead in and watched her man drive that freak home. That was when she saw that you were carrying that mangy cat in your arms.

“So it was her cat?” She asked herself. She pulled out her phone as she took pictures of you leaving Yuta’s car and pictures of Yuta’s license plate.

Once you were out of sight, Yuta just idled there. For a little too long. It drove Ashley crazy. How could Yuta be so kind to this nobody? After everything you did?

You were inferior to her in every way, Ashley thought. Yuta was a fool for looking at anyone but her. She had to do something so you could be out of the picture forever.

She would be damned if Yuta left her for an unemployed, disgraced nobody. Ashley pitied you because she wasn’t finished with her reign of terror on you. Not by a long shot.

^_^

A few days have passed since your name became the most searched on all social media platforms. You prayed something juicier could distract the public so you could become insignificant again.

A news article came out that Yuta dropped the charges against you and that you were innocent. Unfortunately, the deranged and delusional members of the public (aka the Yutastans) already made up their mind about you. And today, shit hit the fan once again.

Delilah sat with you on the couch as you binge watched Riverdale. It cheered you up to roast the show with your best friend. Things almost seemed like they hadn’t changed.

Delilah checked her phone and nearly choked on her glass of water.

“What is it?” You asked. “Are you okay?”

Delilah set her glass down as she stared at her phone. “That’s our apartment complex. Fuck.”

“Delilah, what’s wrong?” You had a bad feeling.

“y/n, it’s going to be okay. We will get through this,” she began and you motioned for her to hand you her phone.

Delilah reluctantly handed it to you as you read the article on her phone.

Yuta Nakamoto’s Crazy Stalker Is Actually His Side Chick?

That was the headline and your heart plummeted. There were pictures of you holding Totoro as you got out of Yuta’s car when he brought you home.

“What the hell,” you started, “Who took these?” You demanded.

Someone knocked at your door and you shrunk into the couch. Delilah looked at you in concern and she went to answer the door. You both feared who it could be.

She checked the peephole and exhaled. “It’s Yangyang.”

She opened the door and Yangyang ran in. “y/n, are you okay? I saw-“

Shutting the door. Delilah raised her hand up to stop him. “We just saw the article.”

Yangyang cursed. “Someone leaked those photos to the paparazzi. I‘ll help you track down who did this, y/n.”

You sat there in silence. What could you say? What was the point? It was your word against the public who never believed in you. Not only do they think you stole things from Yuta but they now considered you a homewrecker.

And it was only a matter of time before your home address was leaked.

Delilah and Yangyang looked at each other in concern. Delilah deliberated. “She came home with Totoro that day. It was last Thursday. Around...4 PM?”

Yangyang nodded and sat down at the kitchen table. “It’s been a while since I’ve hacked into the complex’s security footage.”

That got a reaction out of you. “You mean you’ve done this before?”

Yangyang smiled wide, happy to see you react to that. “Someone paid me a hefty sum to catch their cheating husband in his shenanigans. I use my powers for good. You know this.”

Delilah scoffed. “You are such a little weirdo.”

He rolled his eyes at the word “little”. He typed away at his keyboard. He chuckled. “Amateurs. They changed one number in their password. Lazy.”

Yangyang navigated through the parking lot security footage. Based off of the angle of which the photo was shot, he was able to pinpoint where the culprit was hiding.

“A 2019 Lexus,” Yangyang said, “License plate ASHL3Y.”

Delilah let out a sarcastic laugh. “Golly gee, whoever could that be...”

You got up from the couch and checked the footage with Yangyang. “I believe it. She hated me even before she met me.”

“She’s the crazy stalker, if you ask me,” Yangyang said.

You sighed. “What will it take for her to leave me alone?”

Your phone rang. It was an unknown number and you chose to ignore it, knowing damn well it was probably a Yutastan who was going to cast some sort of evil spell on you.

Then, immediately you got a text.

Answer the phone. Unless you want an angry mob to break into your apartment tomorrow. -kiss emoji-

^_^

“Thank you for agreeing to meet me,” Ashley started. “Can I offer you a glass of lemonade? Some Brie and crackers?”

In Ashley’s penthouse suite, you sat with her in the living room. She sat across from you in a leather loveseat while you sat in a massive L-shaped leather sofa.

“What the hell do you want? You want to throw it in my face that you ruined my life and put not only my life in danger but my friends’ and family’s lives in danger, too?” You snapped.

Ashley laughed. Her voice was as irritating as that of any early 2000s socialite. “Don’t be so dramatic. No one knows about your family. Your friends at the complex are safe with some of my best security guards.”

“Gee, thanks,” you said as you rolled your eyes.

“None of this would’ve happened if you knew your place and left my Yuta alone,” she said, “So, how long?” She demanded.

“What?” You asked in confusion.

“How long have you two been screwing around behind my back?” She asked.

It was your turn to bust out laughing. You almost cried. “I helped him with his shoot last Wednesday night. The closest I’ve ever gotten to Yuta was when he gave me one guitar lesson. He drove me home twice. Once from work and the second from when he picked me up from my jail cell. It was the least he could do after selling my stuff and oh...I don’t know...SENDING ME TO JAIL.“

Ashley didn’t believe you. “Right. Well, whatever happened between you two...It ends now. Or else I will keep making your life a living hell and destroy the lives of everyone around you.”

“Ashley, the last thing I want to do is see Yuta. I want to be a makeup artist and go back to the life I had before I met him.” Damn the connection you thought you two had. It would surely fade as quickly as it appeared.

Ashley began, “Which is why I have an opportunity for you.”

You frowned. “What?”

Ashley filed her nails as she spoke to you. “Timothée Chalamet’s new horror film begins production next month in Paris. There is an opening for the makeup team, y/n.”

You coughed. “What are you-“

She interrupted you, “Take the job and your name will be cleared. Your friends and family will be safe. Your dreams of becoming a successful makeup artist will come true...”

You knew she wasn’t finished so you waited for her to continue. She was so melodramatic.

“In return, you never come back to LA and leave Yuta alone forever,” Ashley said.

“I’ll have to come back to the city. You can’t ban me from visiting...That is, if I take the job,” you deliberated.

Ashley scoffed. “If?”

You sighed. “Ashley, LA is my home. It’s a big city.” You figured there had to be a way to compromise.

But you realized you were dealing with an unhinged diva.

Ashley said, “It’s a big city, sure. But as of now, every single person knows you as Yuta’s crazy stalker. It will stay that way if you don’t take this opportunity.”

You kept your mouth shut.

“I think I’m being pretty generous, all things considered,” she said as she flipped her bleached hair behind her shoulder. “You would be stupid to turn this down. Want to stay a jobless pariah? Be my guest.”

Your hands were tied. As much as you despised Ashley for making things so much worse for you, she had the answer to your problems. And since you were done with Yuta, agreeing to never see him again didn’t even feel like a big price to pay. And Timothée Chalamet was a mega Hollywood Star. Participating in his film would surely open doors for you. If Ashley kept her word to clear your name. And Paris? You’ve dreamed of going to Paris for years. Your grandmother told you incredible stories of when she studied abroad and lived there for a few years. It was a chance to be closer to her. The sightseeing and the art were enough to make you giddy.

You refused to let this girl drag your name through the mud and jeopardize your loved ones’ lives because they were associated with you. It wasn’t right. This way, everyone could win.

“Okay, you win,” you said.

“Actually, y/n, we both win,” she said as she clinked her glass of champagne at you and drank from it.

^_^

Ashley’s driver took you back to the apartment. When you unlocked the door to your place, you were shocked to see Yuta seated on the couch with Totoro on his lap.

“What are you doing here?” You asked.

Yuta shrugged. “You break into my house. I figured it’s only fair I break into yours.”

You sighed as you took your shoes off as you sat beside Yuta. Naturally, Totoro left Yuta’s lap to greet you.

He nodded. “Delilah let me in. I had to check up on you.”

Yuta kept in touch with your best friend without your knowledge. You realized that now. You’d have to talk to her about that later.

“Well, that’s nice and all but you have to leave,” you said as you averted your gaze from him.

Yuta ignored you. “Where did you go? I was worried sick.”

“I’m fine. I…went to an interview,” you said. There was no way you’d tell him about your meeting with Ashley. He had the mind to intervene and you didn’t want things to escalate any further.

He stared at you in disbelief. “What? For another job? y/n, I told you that you could come back to work with us.”

You shook your head. “If I so much as go to the same supermarket as you, there will be a bounty for my head.”

He shook his head. “The charges have been dropped, y/n. What happened today was…”

“The second of many hits to my career if we don’t stop this now,” you said.

Yuta replied, “y/n-“

“Which brings me to this…Did you get my necklace back?” You asked. If he said no, then you had the ammunition to kick him out. If he somehow got your necklace back…you would have to get even meaner.

Yuta’s face fell. “No, y/n…I reached out to the buyer and they haven’t responded.” He wondered if the buyer already sold it for more or if the buyer was biding his time to ask Yuta for money. “I traced the buyer’s address but they disappeared without a trace. I am so sorry.”

You sighed. “Okay.” You got up from the sofa and headed for the door. “Then, I guess that’s all that needs to be said.” You opened it and motioned for him to leave.

Yuta got up from the couch. “y/n, please we can fix this. As crazy as this sounds, I think I’m falling-“

You stopped him. “Yuta, we can’t. You need to go. You can’t get caught in this complex again. For your safety. And if you care at all about mine.”

Yuta froze. “I will do everything I can to clear your name. Please give me time.”

You couldn’t respond to his sweet voice. You had to resist. As much as you denied it, you felt something for Yuta. From the moment you heard his song “Breeze”, you connected with him before you even met him. His hard work, his talent, his sense of humor, his admiration of your work, his way with words with you before everything went to shit, even the way Totoro gravitated towards him. There was something special about him. Given other circumstances, you would’ve considered exploring a friendship with him. But even that was out of the question. “Goodbye, Yuta.”

He slowly walked out the door and looked back at you. His captivating brown eyes trying to pull you in again but this time, they were full of hurt and longing.

You shut the door, not waiting for him to walk away.

^_^

A couple of days have passed as Yuta reached out to multiple media outlets to clear your name. He admitted that he accidentally sold your necklace. Unfortunately, he couldn’t explain exactly how he’d come into possession of your necklace. So he said the best thing he could come up with: a family friend bought it at a garage sale and thought he might like to have it. Yuta started the account 1026you to sell the items he found around his home in order to raise funds for the LA LGBT Center. Aside from his regular donations from his earnings, Yuta thought he could sell your stuff to make some extra cash for the organization. Had he known that these random items belonged to you he wouldn’t have done that. Which begged the question:

How is it that you lived all the way across town and your stuff just magically appeared in his house? And why?

It seemed like some kind of divine intervention, if anyone asked him. For you two were connected and he only wanted to grow closer to you.

Except now he couldn’t. He failed to get your necklace. You were still blacklisted no matter what he said to multiple companies. He was thankful that you were still able to get an interview like you told him. He wondered if that company hired you. He hoped you were doing well.

Rehearsals for Skylark’s LA shows were still underway. Lily was rehired and Yuta apologized to her for being so rude. The dressing room wasn’t as lighthearted as it’d been when you were around. It was a short time that you were there but he missed you so much.

With Yuta’s heartache, he used music as an outlet. He thought about the night he first taught you how to play the guitar. There was one melody that lingered in his mind every day since. Now he took his time to work the song out of his mind. It was a song that you inspired him to write and he knew it was his best work. He hoped he could play it for you soon.

Yuta missed Totoro’s presence in his home. He didn’t realize how lonely he was until he lost you and your cat. Ashley popped in every day, insisting she stay over. So he begged his sister Suzuka to let him babysit her cat Thorn. Yuta claimed it was out of his hands to babysit Thorn so Ashley stayed less frequently.

Yuta drank a cup of green tea at his kitchen island. He had the day off before his solo press conference. His management wanted him to promote his album but he would also take the opportunity to clear your name.

He pleaded with his agency to let him cut ties with Ashley but Ashley’s agency wouldn’t budge. If Yuta broke up with Ashley, then Ashley’s agency would cut ties with Sky High Entertainment.

He hoped to convince Ashley to cut ties with him today. It was almost as if she was avoiding the conversation as the minute she came in, she ran into the bathroom to take a bubble bath.

“Yuta! Can you be a doll and rub this shower gel on my back?” She asked suggestively.

Yuta knew she was trying to get him in bed so he wouldn’t be able to think straight. These days Ashley seemed more repulsive than usual. Yuta was getting tired.

“No!” Yuta yelled outside the door. “When you finish up, meet me in the living room.”

She didn’t respond right away. She lowered her voice. “Okay…”

Another hour went by and Yuta still waited in the living room. Ashley was avoiding him. He was fed up and he went to look for her. Surely, she’d be out of the bath now. She couldn’t afford to let her skin prune for that long.

He overheard her laughing in his bedroom. “I gotta tell you, Melissa. You should’ve seen the look on her face when I picked her up from that ghetto apartment complex.”

Melissa laughed over the phone. Yuta recognized those nails on a chalkboard from whenever his band had a fan meeting. Melissa Lee, his fanclub president. Yuta frowned and tiptoed as quietly as he could.

Ashley continued, “All I had to do was offer her a job in Paris. Frankly, I’m being way too nice for my own good.”

Melissa replied, “Well, at least you got her out of Yuta’s perfectly shampooed hair.”

“That I did. So when are you going to post the YutAsh tribute video to your website?” Ashley asked as she fell onto Yuta’s bed.

Paris? What the hell did Ashley do?

He remembered how you were unaccounted for that day he went to see you. She said you had an interview. It was interesting how this interview fell on the exact same day those photos of you leaving his car were leaked. Who followed you two that day?

Of course, it was Ashley. Yuta realized how stupid he’d been. She’d basically conspired against you right under his nose. And he was furious.

But he had to be strategic. There was only one way he wanted to take Ashley down. And it would be in the way that hurt most.

^_^

Yuta’s press conference was at The Grove. Hundreds of fans were lined up from the night before. The media was in a frenzy. Your members and team were also in attendance so this was the talk of the town.

The announcer called you in. “Ladies and gentleman: Yuta Nakamoto.”

Yuta, in a gray custom-made business suit, radiated elegance and lethality, which many of his fans said was his unique charm.

Yuta got up to the podium and adjusted the microphone as he spoke into it. “Hello, I’m here to announce the release date of my first solo mini album.”

The crowd roared while the cameras flashed. There was a lot of talking from the journalists in the front.

He smirked. He was ready to give them something to talk about.

“The album comes out July 15th. Ashley and I have been fake dating and I’m here to say that it’s over.”

The crowd was in an uproar. The press yelled out questions. Yuta’s team was full of mixed reactions. His bandmates cheered and laughed. Baekhyun looked panicked. The company executives looked paler than they’ve ever been.

Ashley, who couldn’t have been more obvious as she gossiped with Melissa, almost fell over in her Jimmy Choos.

Yuta laughed. “I’ll take a few questions.” He pointed to a representative from Teen Scene Weekly.

“Yuta, is your breakup with Ashley because of y/n?” They asked.

Yuta sighed. “First off, Ashley and I dated to strengthen our respective companies. We were friends. We had a good time. For a while now, I’ve wanted to cut ties with her but out of respect for my company, I held on a little longer…However, after I politely asked for a breakup, I was denied. Now tell me…do you think that’s fair? After everything Skylark has given to the company? That we get used this way? I’m fed up with it.”

Yuta knew he only had a minute at most before he was pulled off the stage. Ashley yelled out, “Yuta, please stop!”

He continued, “Which brings me to y/n. She never did anything wrong. As I have gone on record to say twenty times in the past week, she never stole from me. She lost her necklace along with other possessions. Friends and family got these possessions for me from garage sales. That’s all I know. y/n is innocent. I made a huge mistake by having her arrested. She is an excellent makeup artist. One of the best in the business. I should know because I’ve been in this industry for seven years now. So if you’ve blacklisted her, then the joke’s on you. Because she has more talent than most of your employed artists ever hope to have. Lastly, to answer your question…y/n is not the other woman. She never was. I started falling for her but I never acted on it. Until now.”

The crowd was in a frenzy. A lot of the fans were crying and it made Yuta wonder if he had any true fans at all. If they cared so much about who he dated, then they didn’t see him as anything else other than their property.

Skylark’s security guards went to pull Yuta off the stage but he walked out on his own with his hands up in surrender. The guards escorted him to his car.

Yuta got into the driver’s seat and nearly screamed at seeing Ashley in the passenger seat.

“What the fuck?” He demanded.

“I had extra copies of your car keys made,” she said like she knit him a pair of mittens.

“Get out,” Yuta said with clenched teeth.

“You ruined me, Mr. Nakamoto. How are you going to make it up to me?” She asked. Her eyeliner ran down her cheeks. Her critically acclaimed face made her look like the wicked witch from Snow White.

Yuta laughed humorlessly. “I don’t owe you anything, Ash. You ruined y/n’s life and pushed her away from me. You knew I never loved you so why? Why keep this charade up?”

“We need each other We are perfect together. With your music and your bone structure and my beauty and me being a triple threat, we would be unstoppable. We can only help each other. Why can’t you see that?” She traced her fingers over his chest.

“I’ve heard enough. Please leave before I call security,” Yuta said in a low voice.

“Security?” Ashley scoffed. “Fuck off. No one calls security on me.”

Yuta rolled his eyes, already having dialed Tom, one of the security guards. “Yeah, Yuta?” He asked.

“Come back. Ashley broke into my car,” Yuta said quickly.

Ashley grabbed his phone. “Yuta! What have you done?”

Yuta sighed. “What I should’ve done a long time ago.”

He unlocked the door as the guards came running over to pull Ashley out of the car. She put up a good fight but the guards successful got her out.

She yelled out, “Well, you’re too late! Her flight to Paris leaves in a couple of hours.”

Thankful that Ashley always had a big mouth, Yuta backed away from the scene and raced to the airport.

^_^

You were on the plane, happy to have the row to yourself. You had to find some joy somehow. It wasn’t like you were being exiled from your hometown.

Totoro stayed with your mom. Once the shoot finished, you would get him back so you can relocate from LA. It still hurt to leave everyone.

Yangyang and Delilah agreed to move in together so he could save on rent and she wouldn’t have to pay for the apartment by herself. But you had a feeling there was something they weren’t telling you. You couldn’t wait for updates from both of them.

In a matter of eleven hours, you would be at the Charles de Gaulle airport, ready to embark on a new chapter in your life. You put your earbuds in and put your music on shuffle. The first song from the shuffle was ironically “Your Type” by Carly Rae Jepsen. It was a song about unrequited love and you were tempted to skip. Instead, you chose to wallow.

As much as you suppressed it, a part of you held onto thoughts of Yuta. Losing your possessions and finding them in Yuta’s place. You were both confused. Part of you wondered if there was something paranormal about it all. Maybe paranormal wasn’t the right word. Maybe…something magical?

Even so, too much damage had been done for you two to return to the friendship you had for a such a short but sweet time. And Ashley drove an even larger wedge between you two by threatening you. As much as Yuta frustrated you with everything else, you were even more frustrated that he was still with her. If it was fake, why did he keep it up? Didn’t he want to be with someone he loved?

Well, it wasn’t your problem. He was a big boy. He should be able to handle problems like this since he talked such a big game all the time.

So irritating, you thought, but also irritatingly cute.

Unbeknownst to you, there was a commotion on the plane.

“Sir, your seat is in 5A. Come back here!” A flight attendant yelled.

“y/n!” Yuta yelled as he ran down the aisle looking for you. He wore a large beanie and sunglasses so no one could recognize him.

The passengers looked alarmed at the disguised man yelling frantically. Yuta realized screaming wouldn’t help his case so he scoped out for you.

And then he saw you.

Your face was made up but you still looked like you lost many hours of sleep the past few nights. But still, you were the most stunning creature he’d ever laid his eyes on. Your eyelashes brushed against your cheeks as you slept. Your lips slightly parted and Yuta bit his lip.

The flight attendant caught up to him. “Sir-“

Yuta raised his finger and nodded towards you.

The flight attendant calmed down. “You’re assigned to 5A. Why are you all the way back here?”

“Can I switch with whoever is supposed to sit here?” He asked.

The attendant frowned. “Why would you want to-“

“Please,” Yuta pleaded, “Sitting towards the front freaks me out.”

The attendant sighed. “Well, sir, you’re the last one on the plane so that seat appears to be available. Go ahead.”

Yuta smiled genuinely. “Thank you.”

The attendant was stunned and she had a feeling she recognized him. She shrugged it off and resumed her duties to get everyone situated on the plane.

Yuta exhaled in relief as he sat beside you. You looked so cute curled up in your chair but also very uncomfortable. He was tempted to offer you his shoulder but that would ruin the surprise.

Half an hour went by and you turned to your right to see the seat had been occupied by someone in glasses and a beanie. So much for having the row to yourself, you thought.

The stranger beside you said, “Morning, sleepyhead.”

You frowned as you opened your eyes more. “Hi…?”

But when you sat up, you saw his piercings and the curve of his lips. “Yuta?” You whisper-yelled.

He flashed his perfect set of teeth at you as he lowered his glasses. “Hey.”

You laughed in disbelief. “What are you-“

Yuta shrugged casually. “I felt like a trip to Paris.”

“Right…Who told you?” You asked. You dropped your defenses. For now.

“Surprisingly, it was Ashley. She may be a schemer but she’s never been the sharpest tool in the shed.”

You looked at him, noticing how disheveled he looked. He was soaked in sweat. He must have ran through the airport to catch this flight.

“Why are you so sweaty?” You asked.

“I ran,” Yuta said as he realized he must have looked as gross as he felt. And taking off his beanie was almost out of the question since his fuchsia hair dye made him stick out like a sore thumb.

You felt for him so you pulled some wipes from your bag and gave them to him. “That beanie looks uncomfortable so take this.” You handed him a cap instead. It was a Dodgers cap.

“Thanks,” Yuta said as he swapped the beanie for his hat and cleaned himself up.

“Well, good night again,” you said as you turned to the window and shut your eyes.

“I’m sorry, what?” He asked. He mistook your acts for kindness for wanting to talk to him.

“We’re done here, aren’t we?” You asked. “You shouldn’t have come.”

“y/n, I…You can’t move to Paris,” he started.

“I accepted the position, Yuta. I can’t go back from an obligation.” You turned away from him and stared out the window. The attendants were giving their airplane safety spiel. You know you were about to ascend. “Unless you have a schedule in Paris, then you should leave. Before you’re stuck on this flight.”

“There’s no place I’d rather be, y/n,” he said softly.

His voice sent shivers down your spine but you pushed your feelings down. You couldn’t let him get to you. “You hurt me.” You let it out. Maybe if you kept this up, he would leave you alone.

Yuta sighed. “I know and I’m so sorry.”

Upon hearing him apologize, you perked up but you chose to keep your back turned.

Yuta went on to say, “I screwed up. Getting you arrested, fired, and hated by everyone. I screwed up even more by selling your grandma’s necklace. And I hate that I couldn’t get it back. More than anything. I know what Ashley did to you. It was wrong of her. She had no right. I finally broke up with her. In front of everyone.”

You turned to him, worried about the repercussions of the break up. “By everyone, you don’t mean…”

“At my press conference…”

You put a hand to your mouth in shock. “Ashley must be furious.” What did this mean for you now? What if Ashley retracted the offer and then you were truly left without a job or a home?

Yuta chuckled. “Don’t tell me you’re worried about that witch.”

You shook your head. “If you broke up with her, then she’s on the warpath.”

Yuta replied, “She’ll find another big name to terrorize soon enough. I’m close to contract termination anyway.”

You gaped. “What?”

“At the conference, I told everyone that Ashley and I were a fake couple. I broke up with her and then…I told everyone how I felt about you. I really like you, y/n,” He turned bashful, putting his hands in pant pockets.

“Yuta, are you crazy?”

He didn’t expect that response.

“How could you jeopardize your career for me? You barely even know me. Sure, we shared pizza and…we had a moment when you taught me guitar…But that’s not enough reason to put everything on the line.”

“y/n, you don’t understand. I feel like we really know each other. I can’t explain it,” he said, “Why do you think it is that your stuff kept popping up at my place? There’s some sort of cosmic connection between us. That’s not something we can ignore.”

He thought the same way you had about the things you lost and later found. But you were scared. Ashley made you a human target and you knew you could end this stress by leaving. You didn’t want to jeopardize anyone you loved.

You didn’t even want to jeopardize Yuta. Especially since he just risked his entire career for you.

“Yuta, we can’t. Being with me will ruin your career,” you said. The plane started moving across the tarmac.

“y/n…”

Now you two were stuck on the plane. You weren’t planning to budge and you prayed that when you landed in Paris that Yuta would catch the next flight back to LA.

Hours passed. You were so exhausted that you nearly fell asleep the entire plane ride.

Apparently, so was Yuta. You woke up finding yourself leaning against his shoulder and his neck was nuzzled against the top of your head. He still smelled like roses and vanilla, even after working up a sweat to get onto the plane. He was a fool, you thought to yourself.

But you were an even bigger fool because you didn’t remove yourself from him.

The pilot announced overhead, “Ladies and gentleman, welcome to Paris. Bienvenue à Paris.”

You realized you’d been awake too long and hadn’t moved away quickly. You felt Yuta move so you pretended to have just woken up from the announcement. You quickly pulled away from him. Yuta rubbed his neck and watched you.

You left the plane with Yuta trailing behind you. You picked up your bags at baggage claim. Yuta grabbed one of your bags.

“Yuta, it’s fine. I have this,” you said as you pointed to the luggage cart.

Yuta relented and helped you put your bags on the cart.

He followed you to the arrivals section where drivers had their posters with the names of people they were picking up. You saw your name and identified yourself with the driver. The driver helped you with your luggage.

“Bye, Yuta,” you said quickly, not about to linger. You turned away when he took your hand.

“y/n, please…” He begged.

“Take care, okay?” You said as you pulled your hand away and caught up with your driver.

Heartbroken but unrelenting, Yuta was about to follow you when someone pulled his hat off.

“Oh my God, it’s Yuta! C’est Yuta. Skylark!” A girl yelled.

Yuta ran for cover, the gears shifting in his head for his next move with you.

^_^

It’s a few days later that you finally get to explore Paris. You haven’t heard a word from the fuchsia-haired boy, but you were trying to get over him anyway so you didn’t mind.

You had to realize that at the end of the day, he had his devoted army of fans and you..only had yourself. He didn’t need you, so surely he’d forget about you soon enough. You two had only known each other for a short time, regardless of it feeling like an eternity.

You breathe a sigh of relief when you get to the Eiffel Tower. It’s kinda cold, but the dreamy sunset draws in.

When you felt a sudden gust of wind, you closed your eyes and remembered Yuta’s warm chest on your back, the way his long fingers comforted and guided yours on the stiff strings of the guitar. His breath dancing along your ear while you shivered and felt goosebumps expose themselves.

The echoing bass in his voice that hit your heart..and other places too.

The sun was slowly retreating from the sky, but it was still bright..as bright as his smile, you missed it, even when he only showed it during his sarcastic, asshole moments.

His lips so full and soft, even the brush you used over them had a difficult time coloring to perfect something that didn’t need perfecting.

Ashley was one lucky girl. It was only a matter of time until she and Yuta got back together.

You looked to the ground and sighed. Why did you have to think of him? Even when one of the most beautiful pieces of art towered over you.

You couldn’t shake the feeling that you were missing something so great in your life now. The connection you felt with him hit you like a train and there was nothing that could compare to it. It was so strong, it could probably compete with the earth’s gravitational pull to your body.

“Yuta..I hate you, I really do.” You whispered to yourself as you clutched your long jacket around your body. You tried to convince yourself that this was true so that you’d finally be at peace. Key word: tried.

In the front of the Eiffel Tower was a board that read the rules, opening times etc.

“Le Jules Vernes Restaurant..’closed tonight for a special event..damn it.” You had planned on treating yourself to a meal at the top of the Eiffel Tower so you could take in the view as long as some fresh air. But lucky for you, it was closed for that evening.

You licked your lips and sighed.

Would you ever have things go your way?

You were about to walk away when you heard a speaker being plugged in. The feedback was obnoxiously painful and loud, and got everyone’s attention. You all turned to see the source.

A guitar riff played soon after and you heard a chorus of whispers from people on the lawn.

“Oh my God..OH MY GOD ITS YUTA NAKAMOTO FROM SKYLARK!” A girl screams as she runs past you with another girl in hand, just barely holding on.

Shit.

You squint your eyes to look at the person that a crowd begins to form around and sure enough, it is your nemesis with the pink hair. He’s smiling widely and saying ‘hi’ to everyone as his bodyguards put their arms out to stop anyone from getting too close. His guitar is in his hands and his microphone has already been set up.

“Time to go back to the hotel.”

You turn and start to brush past all the people running to see Yuta perform.

“Yuta?! What is he doing here?”

“Holy shit! Yuta is about to perform for us!”

“Yuta from Skylark? Aren’t they about to go on tour?”

You overhear some of the comments and the last thing you want is for them to realize who you are, the infamous “crazy stalker,” so you duck and push through.

You don’t feel his eyes peering the crowd and eventually locking into your body as you walk away. His smile fades and he realizes he has to act quickly.

He strums out one chord on the guitar and the girls go into a frenzy.

“This song..is for someone that just entered my life. It’s only been a few weeks, but she’s changed it for the better. She knows me more than anyone else does and I honestly don’t know how I lived without her before.”

Yuta speaks into the microphone, making the growing crowd of listeners go silent.

You slow your pace but still don’t turn around. There’s no way he could be talking about you.

“Who is he talking about? Didn’t he just break up with Ashley?” You hear a few girls whisper.

“She doesn’t know it yet, but I don’t plan on living without her anymore..she makes my head spin, she makes me forget the words to songs that I’ve sung everyday for the past 3 years, she gives me the WORST case of butterflies...she truly is a nuisance, but I need her. y/n..”

You stop in your tracks and stare at the grass below your planted feet.

“Please don’t go..” Yuta’s eyes are wide, he just needs you to turn around and look at him, to give him a second chance.

The people turn to follow his line of vision, eventually seeing your body standing alone and far away.

“Oh my god it’s her.” They whisper.

You start to walk again when you hear the whispering yet overwhelming gossip. You’re just so tired of all of the attention you’ve been getting. Yuta was trying to make some grand statement to get you back, but he didn’t realize that this was the opposite of what you wanted.

“She’s like the rain on summer days when the garden needs some nurturing...” Yuta strums his guitar and sings.

“She’s like a constellation of stars, oh she’s beautiful, and very gorgeous to me.”

You’re still walking but he continues.

“But I don’t even know her name, I only see her in a frame, yet her face is stuck in my mind..she’s the girl in the portrait, the girl with the necklace..the girl with my heart, but the girl I don’t know..I could give her the world, but it’s not like she needs it from me. She’s a work of art, she’s the only thing I see.”

You stop again, this time turning around to finally face him.

“No one knows me like you do, yes, you see the right through..and I know you won’t forgive me, I just hope you won’t forget me..because I know I’ll be thinking of you, yes you, the girl in the portrait.”

Your eyes start to tear up. The Mountain Man, the singer you so adored had written a song about you. And the melody was just as charming as his other songs. Were you that important to him that he created this song for you?

You stood there frozen as ice and stunned, with a thousand eyes on you.

“That was The Girl In the Portrait, I wrote it for y/n, because, well, it’s a funny story actually.” Yuta said as he put his guitar down and stood up. The crowd chuckled and clapped but people were still focused on you and waiting for your reaction.

This was one level above a public proposal and you didn’t know how to feel about it.

“Please..” Yuta said quietly.

You cursed silently. Your heart felt weak and you couldn’t just turn away like your conscious told you to. Your heart told you to forgive him and start over.

Yuta went all the way to Paris for you, he wrote a song for you and ditched his first tour date. He did it all for you. If that didn’t show his sincerity towards you, you weren’t sure what would.

‘I Hate You’ you mouthed before smiling.

Yuta ran towards you abruptly, making his bodyguards scurry behind him to push his fans away from him, they struggled to keep up as he dashed like Bolt towards you.

You braced yourself for impact from the 6-foot something man about to collide into you.

Yuta’s teeth showed brightly as he held out his arms and wrapped them around you. Wrinkles formed at the sides of his eyes.

He’s so filled with excitement, he lifts you three feet about the grace and bends backward.

“Yuta!” You laugh out at the sudden move, but he chuckles and brings you back down.

You breathed in his amazing scent before closing your eyes and adoring his warmth. You felt so at ease in his arms, everything faded away. The cries as well as cheers from his fans soon faded into the background. You rested your head in his chest and exhaled.

You lifted your limp arms that were once at your side and wrapped them around him while he rubbed your back. Having you in his arms tonight made it feel like Christmas Day. He never wanted it to end. Even with all the people staring and all the phones recording, he didn’t want this moment to end. He prayed that you would stay in his arms forever, for you were the only thing that made him feel comfortable and happy. You did for him what music could no longer do.

“y/n...”

“Mhmm?” you hummed, your eyes still closed while you enjoyed his embrace.

“I want to kiss you..”

Your neck nearly snapped when you looked up at him.

“What?” Your eyes widened.

“But not here..up there..will you let me?”

Yuta smirked and tilted his head towards the tower.

“Nice try, user 1026you, the restaurant is closed tonight.”

“For a special event, I know...that’s why it’ll just be me and you.” Yuta chuckled when your brows furrowed.

“Yuta..”

“I’d give you the world if you let me.” Yuta grew serious as he searched your eyes and swallowed hard. He ignored the fact that his bodyguards were having an increasingly difficult time with holding back his fans.

The two of you were surrounded by complete madness, but you felt alone..lost in each other’s eyes.

Your mouth was open slightly, you couldn’t believe that he actually booked the entire restaurant just for the two of you.

“So..You gonna let me give you a night in Paris to remember?”

You laughed and Yuta felt his chest weaken by the sight of your smile.

“You owe me big time..”

Yuta’s teeth twinkled. “We gotta run, ready?”

He took your hand and the two of you hustled to the entrance of the Eiffel Tower.

His fans ran after you two while you laughed and held onto each other tightly.

Everything happened in slow motion, the two of you moved like runaway lovers, chaos surrounded you but it didn’t matter, for you had each other. You looked over to see Yuta’s goofy smile.

The tour guide at the entrance was able to quickly let you in and close the door behind you to stop anyone else from following.

You found the elevator and got on.

Once at the top, you let go of Yuta’s hand to walk around and see the magnificent view. A million tiny lights decorated the streets of Paris. It was darker outside now, but you could still see the large crowd that surrounded the tower start to dissipate.

They looked like ants below you, slowly dispersing from the ants nest to get more food.

You were so stunned by the view, you didn’t notice that Yuta was watching you, your eyes gazing in amazement, your hair blowing softly in the wind and your bright smile that made even the moon seem bleak.

“y/n..” he called your name. There was something he wanted to see.

You turned to look at him over your shoulder.

“Yeah?”

And there it was. The pose from the portrait. You glancing over your shoulder so intensely. Your eyes large with wonder, your lips full and slightly parted, your hair shining in the moonlight. You are beautiful, Yuta can’t describe it, but he knows he is happy to be able to see an artwork come to life.

“Yuta?” You turned to him full and walked over. “What’s wrong? You’re staring again” you giggled.

“I’m happy.” Yuta smiles and looks down at you.

“Well, we’re in Paris at the Eiffel Tower! Of course you’re happy.” You chuckled and turned to look out at the city from a different angle, but Yuta took your hand in his and spun you around.

You tripped and fell onto his chest before looking up into his eyes.

“No...I’m happy because I’m with you.”

He whispered and your body felt weak. Luckily, he was holding you up so you could balance yourself.

He held you close and looked onto your lips which were just a few inches from yours. His breath slowed to match yours, you look into his lips and swallow hard.

“Y-Yuta.”

He leaned forward, placing a small kiss on your lips. Your eyes closed, his kiss made you feel like fireworks had been set off right there in your chest. It was magical even though it only lasted for a second.

Yuta was nervous, he wasn’t sure if you were ready. You held his head in your hands and looked into his eyes.

You then kissed him hard while tilting your head to the side. Yuta finally relaxes in your hands and kisses you back, opening his mouth so that he could lick your top lip.

His lips were fluffy and felt exactly like how you imagined them to feel. Silky, smooth. Even as he pressed harder, you couldn’t help but feel fragile like you’d collapse at any moment, your legs threatening to give out at any moment.

Soon, your tongues found each other and playfully danced while you struggled to keep your breathing stable.

Time slows down once again as you kiss for what feels to be days.

Yuta draws small circles and lines on your back as he pushes your body into his more. He wants more, so much more. He wants to feel you everywhere, and he can’t get enough of your touch, the way your dainty fingers play with the hair on the nape of his neck.

But you have to pull away to breathe.

“Wow..you could’ve gone on for days, couldn’t you?” You try to catch your breath as you look up at him.

Yuta smirks. “I’m a singer, it’s called breath control.”

You rolled your eyes. “It’S cALleD BrEATh coNtRoL.” You mocked him.

The two of you laughed. Yuta took your hand to guide you to a table that had been set for the two of you.

It was weird being so high above the rest of the world. But you liked it. It was just you and Yuta. Nothing else. There was no Ashley, no fans, and no drama.

Yuta rubbed his reddened lips with two fingers.

“Let’s hurry up and eat..I want to finish what you started.”

“What I started? Sir, I recall you being the one that started that kiss!”

“Nah you gave me those eyes..” Yuta was teasing you again.

You rolled your eyes and sat back in your chair.

When you finished eating, you looked into the city again and felt an internal peace. There was something so comforting about being away from the madness. Yeah, your life wasn’t what it was two months ago, but you sure as hell felt all the madness was worth it.

Getting Yuta was worth it.

You leaned forward, placing your jaw on your hands.

“What are you thinking about?

Yuta watched your eyes searching the city again. The moonlight and single candle lit on the table brought out your smooth skin even more, as well as the outline of your nose and lips. He could watch you all night.

“I like the view,” you answered softly.

“You do?” Yuta’s brows raised.

“Yes..” you nodded.

“You’re my best view..” Yuta smiled widely.

You blushed. “Ehh.. I don’t know about that line.”

“Okay how about this one?

“I wish you didn’t have a name..so I could call you mine?” Yuta leaned forward to match your pose and place his head on his hands.

“Oh no..it’s getting worse.” You held your face in your hands, feeling the heat in your cheeks rise. You’re both a little tipsy from the alcohol you had at dinner.

“Are you from Paris? Because Ei-FELL for you..” he smirked and took your hands in yours so he could see you blush.

You laughed and melted into your seat. “Oh God, Yuta make it stop.”

“Okay, okay I’ll stop..but before we leave, I have something to give you.”

You sat up straight and gave a puzzled look.

“I’m sorry again about your grandmother’s necklace. I tried..I even called up your hacker friend YangYang for help, but he couldn’t find it either..I’m so sorry. I know I can never make up for that.”

Your face straightened and you blinked slowly as the reality settled in that you would never see your grandmother’s necklace again.

“But..I did get you this..I hope her memory can still live on through this..”

Yuta reaches into his pocket and hands a small box. When you open it you find a gold necklace with a shining stone surrounded by small pearls as the pendant . The resemblance between it and your missing necklace is strikingly similar. Your mouth falls open.

“My grandmother’s necklace was the only one of its kind...how..how in the world did you find this?”

You looked closely to see that the one difference was the stone in the center.

“I searched online and went to a few antique stores and met this strange lady..what was her name again? Was it Celeste or Cerulean? Hmm..wait! It was Cyan! Yeah I showed her a picture and she found it in her store for me.”

“Yuta..that’s amazing.”

And that’s when you realized what the color of the center stone was. It’s not purple, nor red. Not pink, nor magenta..no it’s..fuchsia.

Yuta was your soulmate..that’s why your things were disappearing. The universe was pushing you to him. You were destined to meet and fall in love. How could you  not realize it sooner? That’s why you felt this undeniable pull towards him.

“What’s wrong?” Yuta grows concerned when he sees your eyes start to tear up.

“Nothing..nothing..it’s perfect, Yuta.” You decided not to tell Yuta because you couldn’t really explain it. Things were finally falling into place and you just wanted to spend time with him, for you didn’t know if you’d have the chance to be with him again..in this universe..or in another one.

“Let’s go home.” Yuta kneeled down and wiped your tears with his finger.

————

Yuta helps you out of the limo once you get to your luxurious hotel. He had the driver take you to a back entrance so his fans wouldn’t see the two of you.

“Thank you.” You let go of his hand and are about to start walking but Yuta grabs your waist and throws you over his shoulder. You yelp out in surprise. Your ass is in the air as you dangle over him.

“Ahh!! Yuta!”

“Shhh we came through the back for a reason.” Yuta chuckles then gives your ass a hard smack with his hand.

“Ahh! Damn it, Yuta!”

You lay out a string of curse words as Yuta gets into the elevator. He only smiles while strangers stare and wonder what in the world is going on.

When you get to the room, Yuta flips you from his shoulder and onto the bed. You plop down and feel your body bounce back up from the plush mattress.

“I swear to-“ you start but Yuta leans down over you, attacking your lips as soon as you open them to make some snarky comment.

He liked hearing you talk back to him, but he liked kissing you even more.

You lick his bottom lip, then kiss his lips again, enjoying the way both of your lips grow wet from each other.

He was just as playful with his tongue, letting it place kitten licks on the soft surface of your lips, he kissed softly, teasingly. It was almost ticklish. You felt your chest rumble.

You closed your eyes and traced your hands up Yuta’s back, pressing him into you more.

The bitter taste of alcohol stayed on your lips and your head felt light, you both felt like you were getting drunk all over again.

Yuta presses into you more, running his hands along your sides before holding your face as he guides the passionate kiss.

You pushed your body upwards and grinded onto Yuta, feeling his member poke through his jeans. You placed a finger into his belt loop, pulling him downwards. You then wrapped your legs around his waist and crossed them over his back to bring his body closer to yours even more.

Yuta took the hint and pushed into you slowly, grinding his covered member against your covered, but increasingly wet entrance.

You moaned into his mouth when you felt him press onto your weak spot teasingly. You trembled under him, hands shaking as they clawed at his back lightly.

It felt like a bouquet of flowers were slowly opening up in Yuta’s chest. You were the most beautiful melody, the graceful echo of godly chords being played in a church organ, you were the angelic singing heard all the way from heaven. That’s what you felt like to Yuta. And he had to write about you, he had a hundred songs already in mind to write about you.

He prayed that you wouldn’t stop kissing him this time, that you wouldn’t have to pull away to breathe.

He didn’t know that you felt the same way, that he felt like a day at Disney that you didn’t want to end. He felt like a birthday surprise happening over and over and over. He was the glass of water after a long run. He made you feel euphoric just from an embrace like this. With the two of you finally being alone together, it was like the stars had collided to create something so beautiful, extraordinary and new.

But still, you were scared. Now that you found your soulmate, would he disappear? What if this was your last night in this universe? You couldn’t remember anything about your life before, but you knew that you were somewhere else before all of this.

And could something this good last? Were you really away from all of your troubles?

You were deep in your thoughts and without realizing, you kissed Yuta so hard, you accidentally bit his bottom lip.

Yuta pulled away. “Are you okay? Do you want me to stop?” He rubbed the blood from his lip, eyes growing wide.

“N-no, Yuta..I’m sorry. It’s just..” you swallowed hard then licked your lips.

“What if..this is it? What if we won’t be together after tonight?”

You played with the collar of his shirt to distract yourself.

Yuta tilted his head then placed his hands on either side of your head to hold himself up.

“y/n..I don’t plan on letting you go..ever. You make me feel..” Yuta didn’t know how to describe it either.

“Amazing.” But that wasn’t enough, it was much more than that. So much more. No word in the entire dictionary could suffice for the feeling he had.

“And if the universe allows..It won’t be the last night. It’ll just be the first of many.” He gave you a wink. “What do you say? Let’s give it a try?”

You nodded and licked your lips.

“And uh..how far do you want to go because I..” Yuta looked down at your linked bodies.

You blushed when you realized what he was looking at. It was the outline of his member sticking out in his jeans and aiming towards the apex of your legs.

You thought about the chances of this being your first and last night together, and knew you wanted to experience it with Yuta. If just kissing him made you euphoric, how would making love feel?

You nodded. “I want you to make love to me Yuta, love me like it’s the last time.” You rubbed his flexed biceps and he grew weak. The combination of your gentle touch and doe eyes while those sweet words left your mouth made him feel like he’d lost all feeling in his legs.

“It won’t be the last time, but it will probably be the best time since we’re in the city of romance. Don’t expect too much from me when we do this again, okay?”

You nodded, giggling as you held his belt again. He glanced down at your hands as they fiddled around.

He chuckled then looked back up at you. “Is your name Paris, because I think my Eiffel Tower belongs in you?”

“Yuta!! I swear to G-“ you started again, but he quickly placed his mouth on yours, taking the air as it left and circling your top lip with the tip of his tongue.

You both ran out of patience, taking each other’s lips in between your teeth. You shimmy out of your jacket and Yuta tosses it to the side. You tug the hem of his black t-shirt and help him take it off over his head, his hair becoming rustled in the process but it gives him a cute, messy look. You can’t help but laugh.

Yuta smirks and rubs his hands up and down your thighs while gazing into your eyes, pressing into the soft squishy skin to massage them.

You bite your swollen lips, knowing that he’s watching your chest rise up and down under him.

“I could stare at you all night.” He whispers.

“I know..but I want you to make love to me first.” You say as you start to unbutton your blouse.

Yuta watches your fingers play with the buttons, allowing for several inches of your skin to be revealed each time. He licks his lips but waits for you to finish and reveal yourself to him, gripping the crook of your knees while he waits.

“Yuta..” you breathlessly call out his name before biting your lips. Your voice makes him dizzy, he wants to hear you say his name over and over again like a broken record, because you just sound so..heavenly. No song could compare.

He leans forward, placing his hands on yours and gripping the bow separated fabric. And it’s like he’s opening his curtains to see a bright, sunny day after a scary thunderstorm.

He opens it slowly, staring at the small space between your breasts that he wants to decorate so badly.

You stare at his neck and then his abs, all the places you want to kiss passionately while listening to his low groans.

Yuta takes the sleeves of the shirt down your arms, his fingertips lightly touching your skin but still leaving an intense rush flowing through your veins.

You lock eyes as he tosses it to the side with the jacket.

He lowers his head to your chest and breathes over it, leaving a steamy breath over your nipple. You shiver under him and let out a moan.

“Yuta..” You arch your back, desperate to feel him on you. Having him inches away from your skin just isn’t enough, especially when he’s shirtless and daunts his stunning body over yours.

But Yuta doesn’t respond. He licks your nipple and looks up to see you tremble once again. He can feel the response from your body under him even though he’s not touching you.

“Please..” you put your hand onto his back and rub it softly to push him along.

He kisses in between your breasts, then sucks hard, biting the skin to leave a mark.

You cry out his name again, this time, your fingers going through his thick hair as he moves on to suck your nipple.

He presses his tongue firmly and flat against it, then pleases a sloppy kiss onto it.

He massages your other breast while his mouth continues to work on the first, sucking hard so he can hear you say his name once again. He circles around the areola with the tip of his tongue at a pace so slow, you start to go insane. He then flicks the tender tip with his tongue as you throw your head back and moan.

You push your body upwards but Yuta pulls away. As expected, he teases you, wanting to draw this moment out for as long as possible.

“Yuta..please touch me.”

He looks into your large eyes as you beg, but then he looks down to your breasts and isn’t satisfied so he pays attention to the other breast, switching between gentle and firm sucking. Your moaning gets louder and louder, and you’re happy that Yuta paid for the suite that takes up one floor.

His large hand cups your breast, his fingers pressing into the skin and pumping it slowly.

His plush lips kiss everywhere, lighting fires of feeling across your sensitive skin.

Yuta then starts to grind down into you. Your opening is still covered by the rough fabric of your jeans, but aching nonetheless. The sudden contact made you jolt upwards. You’re so wet and needy, you’re sure you’re soaking through your jeans at this point.

Yuta quickly drags your jeans down your legs, you start to kick them off and let it fall to the floor.

“You’re so wet, baby.” Yuta stares at your soaked panties and smiles.

He retakes his position, placing his hands on either side of your head again, and sucking on your nipple.

This time he sucks harder, humming as he grinds down into you to hear you whimper loudly. The vibrations allow for a tingling sensation to echo through your skin, you feel lightheaded, your jaw locking, and your vision fading.

“Yuta!”

You say before releasing. Your grip on his hair tightens as he continues to suck on your skin while you cum. You moan loudly and breathe heavily..you slowly start to come back to Earth.

“Oh, you’re loud..but I like that.” Yuta gives you a wink then runs his fingers over your underwear.

“I didn’t even touch you and you came.” He says smoothly.

You jerk at the feel of his fingers parting your folds to collect your essence.

“You cocky bastard.” You say breathlessly.

Yuta only smirks as he walks around the bed and to a wall beside it.

“I forgot to show you this..” he presses a button and looks up at the ceiling.

You kneel on the bed and move to the center of it.

The white covering separates from the center, opening up to reveal a window.

Your eyes widen and your mouth falls open when you see the beautiful night sky, dazzled by twinkling stars. And even though it is late at night, you can still see traces of sapphire blue and small, faint lines of indigo.

There’s nothing like it. You can see why Van Gogh painted Starry Night.

“So we’re gonna fuck in front of the stars?” You ask bluntly, gaining a loud chuckle from Yuta.

“I promised to give you the best night you’ve ever had so..yes.” His eyes squinted when he laughs again.

“Yuta..this is..”

“Amazing? Legendary? Extraordinary? Yeah I know” he put his hands on his hips as he watched you gaze.

You roll your eyes and turn to him. “Come here..”

You head over to the edge of the bed and get on your knees. Yuta walks over to you, watching your hands unhook his belt and tug his jeans down.

You lean back and fall into the center of the bed while waiting for him to kick off his jeans and get on the bed.

Yuta nearly trips and falls as he struggles to take his jeans off while watching you. You start to take your panties down your legs but Yuta stops you.

“No! I wanna unwrap the present.”

“Ugh, you’re so weird.” You hold your face in your hands again.

“Look at me, sweetheart.” Yuta grabs your ankle and squeezes hard.

“Oh!” You yelp out at the pain and look down at him, watching as he crawls over your slowly on the plush bed.

He takes the waistband of your panty in between his fingers and slowly drags it down while looking into your eyes. Your heart starts to race again. He’s so close to your wet and needy entrance, but you feel the sharp, icy slap of cold air once you’re exposed.

“Beautiful..” Yuta adores your naked body below him.

He traces his fingers on the surface surrounding your folds, just pressing shy of them to make you writhe.

“Yuta..please.”

He rubs two fingers along your folds painfully slow, using the side of his long fingers to part them.

Yuta retreats his fingers and puts them into his mouth.

“So good.” He breathlessly lets out. He teases your entrance again, his spit and your essence now mixing as he presses nearly perfect circles into your core.

You can feel the knot in your stomach start to build again. Your mouth falls open as you moan.

You arch your back and hold onto the sheets with a grip so tight, you felt your knuckles become white. You look up at the stars and think to yourself how beautiful it is out there. You feel your spirit start to ascend while Yuta plays with your clit.

Your legs start to shake and threaten to close completely as you grow more and more sensitive to his touch.

Yuta uses his other hand to pump then align himself with your opening.

His length glistens with pre cum, the tip red and veins pumping fiery blood through it.

He’s more than ready now and you can’t wait to take him.

“Open up for me.”

You don’t hesitate to spread your legs further apart so your hips align with his.

He leans down and holds himself over you with both hands, looking into your eyes before kissing you enthusiastically, tugging your lip between his teeth so you can call out his name again.

He pushes into you slowly while you kiss.

Yuta drinks in your moan and groans when he feels your silky walls surround him.

He lets go of your lips and buries himself into the crook of your neck. He breathes deeply, pushing into you again.

“So tight, fuck.” He whispers.

You take a deep breath and look at the stars above you to stop yourself from coming already.

He starts to thrust into you again, but you let out a quiet whimper.

“Shit..I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, Yuta. K-keep going.”

You rub his back to push him along.

He begins to rub your clit, your mouth falling open into a silent cry.

He pushes all of himself into you then pulls out, groaning once again when he buries himself back inside.

He grinds against your silky walls while holding you close and rubbing small circles into you.

Your heated bodies comfort each other as they are finally connected, working towards the same goal.

Yuta smells like a combination of amber and musk, but feels like a soft blanket during winter, his muscular arms holding your body still while also hugging you in the most passionate embrace you’ve ever experienced during sex.

His heart beat matches yours, his breath attaches itself to your neck. His throaty moans begin to get louder and louder.

Your fingers run through his hair while you whimper.

You’re so close.

Yuta moves faster, harder, pushing into you so hard, the bed starts to move.

He lifts himself from your chest and looks down at you. Your saddened by the coldness you feel between your bodies now but Yuta is so beautiful. His magenta hair now wavy, some strands sticking to his forehead, leftover eyeliner smudging and bringing out the depth of his eyes.

He grabs your ankles, completely enclosing his fists around them before placing them into his shoulders.

He grinds into your entire body at a different angle now, the pressure on your g-spot increasing significantly. “That’s feels good, Yuta..oh my G-“

You start to clench around him, making him groan and push into you harder.

“y/n..” he whispers while looking into your eyes. “You’re beautiful..in every way.”

His surprisingly sweet words make you smile.

You gaze at the stars, but your vision starts to blur. You can’t think of anything but Yuta, the feeling is so amazing, you can’t describe it. To be filled up by him, to be completely enraptured by him, there is nothing like it. The knocking of the headboard against the hotel wall and the sounds of skin on skin brings you to the edge.

You grip the sheets tightly as your eyes close.

They roll into the back of your head and your back arches. The euphoric feeling takes over and you swear your spirit leaves your body for an entire minute.

Yuta fucks you through your high but pulls out and releases onto your belly soon after, experiencing the same overwhelming feeling in his spirit too.

He collapses onto the bed beside you and looks up at the stars, taking your hand into his and squeezing it gently.

You look over at each other and laugh, it’s as if you were both thinking the same thing. How did you climax so hard?

Several minutes pass and you’re about to get up to get a towel but Yuta holds your hand.

“I’ll get it, just relax, baby.”

He comes back with a wet washcloth and gently cleans you up.

“I love you..” he says quietly.

“Yuta..it’s a bit early for that.”

He nods while cleaning up the strings on your belly. “I know..but I can’t shake this feeling. I think you’re the one..I think you’re my..soulmate.”

You’re stunned to hear Yuta speaking like this. If he realized you were soulmates, what would happen now?

“I mean, I don’t know if you believe in that kind of thing, but..”

“I agree, Yuta..I think you’re my soulmate, which is why I’m scared to lose you..good things never last.” You say quietly and avoid his eyes.

“Don’t say that, we’ll be okay..I know we’ll be okay. Just trust me, okay?”

Yuta crawled over you and gave your forehead a light peck.

You made love again then cuddled all night, but when morning came..so did reality.

————

You jump up at your desk, startled by a harsh gust of wind against your back.

What just happened? Where are you? Where is he?

You look around you and see towering wooden shelves filled with books.

How did you end up here?

“y/n? You okay?” You hear a young voice call to you.

You turn to see Charlotte, the 13-year old volunteer at the library.

The Library

Shit. You’re back.

You hold your head in your hands and wail.

Charlotte rushes over to you, hugging you tightly while shushing you.

“Y/n! Y/n! Be quiet! We’re in a library, you can’t be loud like this!”

You sniffle. “I know! But it was so good! I was so happy there!”

“What? Are you talking about your dream?”

That’s all it was..a sweet dream, an imaginative universe you only had a quick taste of...nothing was real now. How on Earth would you find him? You were back to reality.

Totoro walked across the desk and meowed.

You looked at him and pouted.

You knew who you were..a boring librarian that owned a cat named Totoro..but who was Yuta in this universe?

How would you find him?

“y/n?” Charlotte called out to you. “Do you want to go home?”

Several weeks passed and you slowly started to assimilate back into your old life. You googled his name but found nothing, he was nowhere to be found.

You just had to accept that it was a dream, a dream followed by the nightmare of reality.

You hoped that you would find your soulmate again, but you knew the chance was little to none. So you did what you did before. Work, eat, spend time with your best friend and roommate Delilah, sleep, then wake up to do it all over again.

Love didn’t have a place in your life, could you even come to accept a loved other than Yuta? Damn him for giving you a night in Paris to remember.

———

“The true crime section is in row 13.” You pointed to a large sign hanging from above reading “TRUE CRIME NOVELS.” You wondered how anyone could miss it, then again old people were usually the ones that needed the most help when they came to your library.

You turned back around to your returned-book cart that you were taking books from to stack the shelves with. But you noticed that it was now empty.

You were 75% sure that you didn’t put away ALL of the books before turning to help the senior citizen, yet all of them were gone.

All..except for one that had fallen to the floor. It was open  when you picked it up. When you looked at the page that it was open to, you realized that it was a book of poems.

The poem it was opened to read:

She’s like the rain on summer days when the garden needs some nurturing...

She’s like a constellation of stars, oh she’s beautiful, and very gorgeous to me.

But I don’t even know her name, I only see her in a frame, yet her face is stuck in my mind

You squint your eyes, where have you seen this before?

she’s the girl in the portrait

the girl with the necklace

the girl with my heart

but the girl I don’t know

I could give her the world, but it’s not like she needs it from me

She’s a work of art, she’s the only thing I see

The girl with the necklace..

That’s it! It’s Yuta’s song! He wrote this, he’s out there somewhere. Perfect! Now you could track down the author and find him-

But wait.

You looked down to see the author’s name.

The One in the Middle

“Shit. It’s just like him to not put his real name on his work.”

You opened your laptop and immediately went to google.

“Who is the author named ‘The One in the Middle’?” You said as you typed.

Nothing. Nobody knew who he was. Many asked about his other poems, but there were no answers, only fan groups that praised the mysterious writer. ‘No one knows who he is but that adds to his ‘sexiness’ that’s what their Facebook post stated.

And none of his works were posted or published electronically, so you couldn’t ask someone to track his IP address like you did the first time.

You sigh and hold your head in your hands. “Damn it Yuta, why do you make things so difficult?”

It was comforting to know he’s out there somewhere, but you couldn’t help but lose hope. Was the universe messing with you?

———

A few weeks pass again and Delilah decides to drag you to the opening of a new art gallery downtown.  Normally, she’d take her boyfriend with her, but he had basketball practice tonight.

“Thank you for coming with me, y/n! You know my professor, always making us look at other works for “inspiration” I mean, why can’t I just look at works online?” Delilah spoke as you two walked around. She was a musical theatre student, but had to visit an art gallery at least once a week to pass her art appreciation class.

She didn’t see the point in it, but you always had a connection to art that you couldn’t explain. No one in your family was a visual artist. Unlike in your “dream,” your grandmother wasn’t a painter and passed away before you could even meet her.

Nonetheless, color and technique was something you grew to appreciate.

There were about 50 people in the gallery, all high class looking. You felt underdressed in your black turtleneck, black jeans and jean jacket. That’s one thing that you did miss, wearing color all the time like you did in your dream. Now, you were back to wearing black. It was like a metaphor for how you felt. Your colorful and intense world has turned to black.

The only thing that stood out from your outfit was your necklace.

“I’m going to the restroom, I'll be right back!” Delilah skips away.

You nod then walk around a wall in the middle of the room. When you turn the corner, you see..yourself.

It’s the painting from your dream..the one of you slightly turned around. Your necklace is still in it too except..

You step closer and see that it’s different. The stone isn’t ruby anymore, no..

“It’s fuchsia..” you whisper. You glance down to see that the author’s name is The One with Many Friends.

“It’s funny because I was thinking it was more magenta, but you’re right..it really is fuchsia. You’ve got good eyes.”

You slowly turn when you recognize the voice.

Time starts to slow down. You can’t believe your eyes. It feels as though the world has stopped moving and it’s just the two of you once again after so much time.

It was Yuta.

Yuta smiles brightly when you look up at him, he recognizes you right away as you make the same pose you have in the painting.

“Yuta..” the name barely leaves your lips.

“It’s you..y/n.” He walks towards you, pace increasing with each step before taking you in his arms as all of his memories flood his brain. He had seen your face every night in his dreams but he couldn’t remember who you were. He painted you in an effort to figure out who you were, but it didn’t help.

Now finally, he got his answer.

Everything that was missing found its rightful place.

“I read your poem, but you used a pseudonym..again! I thought I would never find you.” You cry into his shoulder while holding onto him tightly.

Yuta smiles and caresses your hair.

“I told you...just trust me, we’ll be okay.”

[albino-whumpee]

Love

I´ve been so self indulgent during this week, thanks for your patience. I went overboard with this @whumpmasinjuly ´s prompt for day 3, “Love”. (2020)

Taglist: @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @giggly-evil-puppy @cowboysrappin @haro-whumps @burtlederp @neuro-whump @comfortforthepain @whumps-the-word @whole-and-apart-and-between @broken-horn @ashintheairlikesnow @rosesareviolentlyread @starnight-whump @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @as-a-matter-of-whump  @whumpasaurus101 @grizzlie70 @twistedcaretaker @boxboysandotherwhump @unicornscotty

CW// Slavery, ´pet whumphuman trafficking, referenced conditioning and past dubcon/noncon, trauma survivors navigating relationships and recovery. Slightly Stockholm syndrome affected whumpees.

It was snowing slightly outside the supermarket. Sann had waited outside the house with his brown coat and muted blue sweater, when they came back home from work. Pushed Albus towards the snowy street to buy ingredients for dinner.

It was odd, because they had enough food for Christmas, which would be next week, but he couldn´t say no to Sann. Much less when he looked so happy going outside whenever he could. Stopping a few times to play with the snow. One of those Sann slipped and fell on his butt, making Albus jump to see if he was alright, right after he snorted and broke into laughter. 

“I’ll get you some cream for it later yeah?” The freckled boy´s jeans were still a bit wet when they went inside the store. Sann patting it with a pained frown on his face. 

“Hey Sann, look” Albus called when they were passing by the clothes isle. The other boy’s hand passing over the clothes like always before he turned. Sann´s face went from interested to a pout, noticing the other was holding anti-slip snow shoes with a shit eating grin. “Could´ve come handy earlier, maybe we should buy them” Sann hit his shoulder as the other snickered. 

A few steps away Sann took something from the book isle and trotted back to hand him it with that bratty smile he had. 

“Merry Christmas then” Sann signed when Albus pulled his eyes up, away from the “comedy for dummies” book on his hands. 

“Ha, you think you´re so funny don´t you?” he said pulling him closer from his coat. “I know how to shush my favorite comedian though” he quickly inhaled before he kissed the corner of his mouth, just a little peck on the lips that left Sann looking for more as he pulled away. Just staring into each other´s eyes for a moment. 

Sann gave him another quick kiss before he smiled and grabbed softly Albus´ chin. Shaking it a bit before he stepped away. “You should shush me more often” Sann signed, walking backwards to the cash registers extending his hand. Albus took it without thinking. Bringing it to his lips to give it a swift kiss. 

-

On the way back home, it was Sann who laughed at him when he slipped on the icy floor. The little groceries they had bought, flying in the air to land on the snow. Even though, as they were holding hands, Sann fell too. 

“We should have bought them!” Albus shouted as the other helped him pick up the things, giggling at the way he patted his own butt.

Walking in a bit of pain, they saw the lights flicker inside the house. Just before Albus turned to Sann shrugging, acting as if he hadn’t gone to the supermarket just to make time. Hiding his smirk from the boy as he opened the door with reddened fingers. Watching how his eyes turned from suspiciousness and wariness to shock. 

It was certainly a surprise to give him a party. 

He stared in awe at the “1 year” sign hanging from the ceiling with small triangular papers as Sann pushed him inside. Passed his eyes around the faces that had become his world, not a single trace of lies, of hidden intentions behind their smiles. Just genuinely happy about having him there. 

Tony and Sasha bathed him in hugs and Jeremy pulled him to sit on the table with delicious food on it. None of it spicy, which he knew was even a bigger gift. As he was the only one there who didn’t love spicy food.

“Hey, I´m the mute one here, say something!” Sann signed next to him. 

“I…Just don´t know what to say…Thank you is too plain” his cheeks went red, pulling his eyes back to Zarai. In a silent question, pleading for instructions. 

“Don´t look at me, it was Sann´s and Sasha´s idea” The albino looked at the two with not-so-guilty grins on their faces. He suddenly felt a need to jump and hug Sasha and shower Sann in affection. Proud of him for making a party, even if it was small, it had been hard to make him feel comfortable in that setting.

“Well a thank you is more than enough” Claude said putting a cup with mulled wine on his hands, like everyone had in front of their plates. They lifted their cups, waiting for him to join. He pulled it up with just the biggest smile anyone had seen on him “Cheers!”

-

They stayed playing something called “guess” until very late into the night. A simple game where a player had to think of a movie, series or famous person and the others had to ask things like “is it an action movie?” “Animated?” “Are they gay or European?” to get to the answer. Obviously, Sann, Sasha and Albus weren’t really good at it, but it was a fun way to learn about the world they had forgotten. The pain of remembering, kind of soothed by the wine.

To which by the end of the party, Albus couldn’t carry himself to the room and had fell on the sofa telling Tony he was just fine, didn’t understand why he was so worried if he felt so good! Jeremy and Sann bonded over animated films (which were Sann’s favorites) and some math thing used in economics Sann always tried to explain to him but never could quite understand. But whatever concept he could wrap his head around had helped him to land a project with a great commission all by himself. He was really happy Sann had a friend outside of their circle now. How he seemed to enjoy it too leaked on to his own mood.

“Having fun?” Sasha tucked some of his hair behind his ear. He gave her a few nods with shut eyes. A wide smile had been there since the very beginning.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy. Maybe even before” he told her in a daze. “Thank you Sasha”

He couldn´t believe it sometimes. How different his life had become since a year ago. If it hadn’t gone this way, he would still be in training, maybe just waking up from an endurance test, or maybe on a cold isolated cage. Hungry, alone, but safely away from other handlers. His body aching, but just desperate enough to be obedient and stay quiet behind the bars.

This honestly felt like a dream he didn’t want to wake up from.

“Your welcome, Al” she smiled at him before pulling him up “You will get used to this after a while. Trust me. It was difficult for me at the beginning too”

“Parties?”

“Freedom” the boy hummed as reply “Alex wasn’t a bad person. Just in need of some help, until they didn’t” she stayed quiet for a second, rubbing her wrist “It was scary to hide it, that someone would call and I would go back even with my papers in order and all, but. I guess, people also helped with that” she said looking at Tony. “Made it easier to trust” Albus knew for a fact they would marry someday. Maybe sometime on May, if Tony finally showed her the ring, so he smiled at the love-struck look on her eyes. “And maybe not forget, but keep going despite everything”

“I hope Sann feels like that someday too”

“And you too, Al. Someday” she said pointing to his neck, where the collar still stood. He let out some air. A heavy sigh, one he didn’t show the real weight of. Putting a vague smile instead.

“If you need help with that, give me a call. I will help you find them”

Albus frowned “Who?”

“The people who helped me. You called me once to ask me about them, but you never brought it up…You don´t remember?” she asked him when he only ket looking at her with a tighter frown.

“When did I do that?” Albus asked, but he never got his answer as his attention quickly sled to the boy walking their way with a large shy smile.

Sann walked to them with a guitar on his hand before he sat in front of him. Other people taking out their phones to catch the moment Sann signed this was his present for him. That he would find a way to get him what they saw at the store, making the albino chuckle, lifting himself up to be sit upright when Sann inhaled deeply and put his hand over the strings.

It was a soft tune, wrapping him in the warm feeling of a rhythm that carried you like a butterfly on the wind. Playfully doing tricks as it went higher. Having a rustic touch to it that made Albus imagine a valley of wheat swaying with a soft breeze. At the middle of it Sann’s fingers moved slower, low tones in quick succession that gained speed, Sann’s fingers moved swiftly down the strings. Squinting his eyes to try smoother down the migraine trying to come for him. Slightly pulling him out of the roll before he finished in a twist, a combination of the butterfly and the low tones that made him think of stone alleys and high windows.

When Sann lifted his eyes to see his reaction, He had to be quick to put the guitar away to receive him on his arms. Clapping and cheering, slightly drowning the messy praise the boy gave him. Mixed with a few curses followed of I love you. Low enough only Sann could hear them.

After a while, he was clinging to Sann on the sofa. His legs over his lap and his arms around his shoulders. Foreheads touching each other. Whispering little things as Sasha and Tony said their goodbyes from the door. Jeremy long gone after a friendly hug and congratulations were given.

Sann wasn’t a light drinker. He was perfectly fine while listening to a drunk and affectionate Albus, with a grin on his face. Nodding whenever the other asked a question. However nonsensical it was.

“You’re so nice, Sann” he said. Face warm and flushed. Eyes glassy like he was about to cry “You with me when you’re so great….” he pressed his forehead against the other. Slightly nuzzling. “I don’t know what I did to have you in my life, but whatever it was, it must have been very good” it became Sann’s turn to get flushed red. He suddenly pulled away and with a very serious face he stared into Sann’s gray eyes. “I love you”

Sann was frozen on his place. But he pulled up his hand, keeping his middle and annular down. Albus didn’t took long to imitate the sign.

It was a bet, but he leaned on. Sann closed his eyes, checking if there wasn’t a voice telling him if it was the right thing to do, and pressing a bit with a little smile when he found none. Soft lips meeting his and pulling apart in a quick inhale. He was surprised, however, when he tried the tip and was met with a bold reply. A hand on his hair and a twist in his mouth. Even then, careful to not let slip his hands to his bare neck. Delicious and at the same time amazing as he knew the person it was coming from. Despite that, it didn’t feel forced, or practiced until mastery. It was messy but engaging, it felt genuine. So when they pulled away with a pop, Sann was wide eyed at the albino.

“Is that a good shush?” He smirked, red eyes glittering under the moonlight.

“Dunno” Sann’s dimples showed on his cheeks “I need a second try” he signed before putting away his glasses. Feeling the boy’s hands pass to his back and pull him closer.

“Sann…” he suddenly went in the middle of the twist. Pulling away “thank you”

“…For what?”

“For everything. For…this” he said putting the same sign he did before. Pulling it down and sinking on the other’s chest “I hope you’re happy forever, however it may be” he said before Sann’s face pulled into a slightly confused frown and lulled him to sleep. Carrying him back to bed after a while.

-

In their room, Zarai slept soundly on his chest. But Claude was troubled. Ever since he had shifted jobs, he couldn’t fall asleep easily. Tonight, it was the celebration stuck on his mind. He remembered the boy’s bloody papers. So he knew the day he had arrived, was the same as his birthday.

That’s why they had made him the surprise party.

But even when Zarai had widened her eyes, even when she had found herself angry she was even more shocked to not tell him. And Claude couldn’t know if it was the right decision or not.

As he woke up with a migraine and looking overall destroyed, letting Sann prepare breakfast for all of them and feeling slightly guilty for taking a pill, but exuding a joy that couldn’t really fit on the doctor’s head. As he saw him thank Zarai for letting him rest, Claude tried to think, to believe it was for the best.

I actually based Sann´s guitar thing on this thing my dad did. You can hear it here.

[talas-starlight]

Scarred Spirits - zuko x fem!reader (pt.6)

SUMMARY: Y/n has been tailing Azula since Omashu and struggles to carry out her mission while protecting what matters most (AHAHAH THIS WAS THE WORST SUMMARY EVER IM SORRY)

WORD COUNT: 4k (uh wow this is my longest piece ever and i- AHAHA)

WARNINGS: panic attacks, fighting, swearing, angst? Tbh if you’ve made it this far in the series nothing new I think (lmk if I forgot anything)

KEY: *** = flashback && italic = internal dialogue

PREVIOUS PARTS: part 1  /   part 2   /  part 3  /  part 4  /  part 5

MASTERLIST: Here!

The cool breeze swept through the palanquin as Azula sat assuredly, ruling everything she passed. “Okay girls, Father has sent word that the machinery and our wonderful new pets will meet up with us soon to chase down the Avatar until he’s too exhausted to even think anymore! Then, we’ll be off to capture Zuzu and Uncle! Victory will be ours.”

“That sounds extremely boring.” Grumbling as if Mai had so much more better things to do with her time.

“Hmm, I have to disagree Mai. What would be more fun than making them feel like there’s no escape but having to fight which they would inevitably fail at trying to win because they’re tired beyond repair!! It will be such a sweet victory.” Letting out a small laugh that sounded nothing but maniacal to you, Mai didn’t say another word as Ty Lee giddily nodded in approval.

Now, that is a tragic sight to see despite how understandably so.

Azula, Ty Lee and Mai have been planning how to hunt down the additional target from the moment they all stepped out of Omashu. Yet, based on that recent encounter, it was more so Azula rather than anyone else. Luckily enough, you were able to stay out of sight the entire time, and nothing requiring you to intervene has occurred. It was only a matter of time before that lucky streak broke.

After much contemplation and sleepless nights since the third anniversary, along with recent events, Zuko finally came to a conclusion. Approaching his uncle with great certainty, he finally let out what has been on his mind.

“Uncle, I thought a lot about what you said.”

“You did? Good, good.”

“It’s helped me realise something.” Letting out a deep breath, getting to the point came quite easily to him, especially since Iroh’s back was still faced towards him.

“We no longer have anything to gain by travelling together. I need to find my own way.”

Not wanting to stay for any of Iroh’s possible rebuttals, he silently reached for his belongings that he had pre-packed for the occasion and turned to make his solo journey into the forest. As he began to walk further into the woods on his own, Iroh knew he wouldn’t turn back for him, so he did the first thing he could think of to aid his nephew if he couldn’t physically be there for him.

“Wait!” Rushing over Iroh grabbed the Ostrich Horse and gave him to Zuko- for someone who has barely been exposed to the real world, he knew his nephew couldn’t do entirely on his own. Even if the animal couldn’t properly speak with him.

Accepting his uncles’ gesture, he climbed on top ready to get on with his own mission of sorts. On his own, Zuko would finally have the chance to do something he never had time to consider until now; find you.

Looking out onto the horizon, the giant, ugly piece of machinery continued to charge its way towards a hopeless group of young teenagers. “Despite how much I hate that girl, I will admit, her determination is unparalleled.”

“Eerrnngggghhhhh!”

“You can say that again.”

It had been approximately three days since Azula received her new toy, and she spent every single minute catching up with the Avatar. To your relief, she seems to have finally caught sight of him, and hopefully, this would also mean that you might finally be able to stop tailing her. In the past three days, you haven’t managed to catch a single minute of sleep or a break, and while this was something you have experienced before, you were sure that your ride was more than ready to collapse at any second.

In all honesty, when a Fire Nation hawk landed near your campsite four days earlier, the last thing you expected was word that you would be receiving assistance for your mission. Not once before had this occurred since you’ve been entirely left to your own devices. You supposed it was because the stakes were too high this round.

***

Y/N.

I am pleased to hear that my daughter is able to catch sight of the Avatar and his assistants in crime against my great nation. While I am sure you are clearly focused on your task with ensuring Azula succeeds in bringing my disgraceful relatives back to the palace, you must extend your attention towards the new targets as well. Regarding my son and brother, I was disappointed when I heard word that they got away since I made it perfectly clear that you must finish the job. On this occasion, I will take the benefit of the doubt since it would be too suspicious if you completed the mission on Azula’s first attempt.

I have dispatched 3 mongoose lizards for Azula and her company. A fourth will be on its way for your use, as it is paramount that you do not let her fail whatsoever.

I have taken the precious and personal time out of my day to write and send this letter so that word does not reach my daughter of your mission. Let this also be a reminder of the possible bounty on your head if you choose to fail. I am sure the pitiful state of your body is enough of a reminder of what I can do to you.

Regardless of your past services to me, remember this is the ultimate test of your loyalty to your nation and me.

Your Fire Lord, Ozai.

Despite informing you that help that was on its way, you spent the rest of the night in a state of turmoil. Talk about having a way with words.

How in Spirits name did that stupid bird find me?! It flew away quickly too so I guess I don’t need to send anything back but… What am I really doing here?

Ozai seems to have some way of finding me so clearly, I can’t run away. Yet, I’m not going to allow him to take anyone back to the Capital…

Frozen in your thoughts, your focus stayed fixated on the fire you ignited earlier in the night.

Fuck I wish I could talk to her. She’d know the right thing to say, and everything would be okay again.

Roughly tugging at your braided hair, you held your legs to your chest desperately trying to clear your head. Stop, don’t think about her too.

Oblivious to any concept of time, when the first rays of yellow and orange peak over the horizon, your mind instantly enters a state of calm. Almost as if it were able to strengthen you from your core. Although while the problem remained, with a stronger mindset, you forced yourself to accept that you were just going to have to work it out further down the line. At this rate with Azula’s split focus, you weren’t even sure if you would have to take care of the Avatar or Zuko first.

***

Funnily enough, it seemed that fate decided you would have to deal with both at the same time since Zuko has caught sight of Azula and friends and now you were tailing both him and his sister. How convenient.

I wonder where Iroh is? Didn’t he get away with Zuko when they ran off the ship?

After keeping out of sight through every moment Azula came even remotely close to Aang, you decided to follow her when she separated from Mai and Ty Lee. But before you entered the area to keep an eye on everything from afar, you noticed Zuko on his Ostrich Horse as if he was waiting for the right moment to interfere.

“Be careful Zuko.”

Whipping around at a speed that could give him whiplash, his face instantly turned into nothing short of a scowl when he recognised your voice.

“You again?! Whoever you are, you need to get away from me. Leave. Me. Alone!”

Attempting and failing to take a step closer to him as he steers his horse a few steps back. “I’m not trying to hurt you. I’m just trying to protect you, that’s all I want to do. If I could have it my way, you’d be far away from this place; away from Azula. You can’t trust her. This isn’t right, and you should be somewhere that could give you a fresh start, like Ba Sing Se.”

“As if you would know anything about Azula or why I’m here! I need to regain my honour, and I’m doing the right thing! Stop trying to meddle with my life when your role in it is completely insignificant!”

An indignant sigh passes through your lips. “Fine. Just be careful. Please.”

Scowling at you once more Zuko tugs the reigns on his ostrich horse to take him further into the abandoned village. You try not to let his anger get to you, but at this point, you’re unsure if you’re more upset or annoyed with his attitude. Sighing under your mask, you do a quick check that all of your weapons are strapped in place since it seems that this interaction isn’t about to end peacefully.

“Let’s do this.”

Hopping off your new lizard friend, you stealthy broke through one of the broken windows of a nearby building, ensuring that you were staying out of sight.

Ah, it seems he wasn’t wasting any time.

“Back off Azula. He’s mine.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

As the three of them got into their fighting stances, you almost wanted to jump in right then and there to help Aang. The sight of his painfully dark under circles was too much of an indicator that this fight wasn’t going to be an easy one.

Making the first move, Azula strikes her blue fire towards Zuko. Luckily enough for him, he was able to deflect it with his own. Observing the fight take place before you, it eventually gravitates further away, leaving you to only listen to what is occurring from your hidden spot.

I wonder how long until I’ll have to step in. With both Zuko and Azula on the offence, it’s clear that one of them is going to get hurt. Something tells me it’s not going to be Azula either. If only he fought smarter rather than harder.

What. A. Pity.

Soon enough, your suspicions were confirmed when you heard Zuko let out an angered scream, followed by a loud crash. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t let out a small snicker at that.

As Aang comes back into view, you scan around for an exit knowing that if you stay where you are, you’ll get caught. Yet when you make your move to run, half of the roof is swiped off clean, causing him to plummet towards the ground. Abandoning any thought, you sprint back to where he’s about to land, quickly catching him.

Stunned that there was another person in a building, Aang frantically looked around, trying to identify who it was that caught him. Eventually, he noticed your eyes peering through some of the broken wooden ceiling around him, your black mask confirming that it was you. “Woah! What…? Oh spirits, it’s you!”

Eye’s widening at how fast he managed to work out that it was you, you desperately tried to dig yourself into the wreckage as you felt Azulas fire coming closer. “Shhh! She’s coming.”

“What? How do you know-?”

As Azula saunters into the building, her infamous smirk adorning her face. Wordlessly lighting up the room's perimeter in flames, Aang begins to struggle against the piece of wood on top of him, consequently crushing you further from under him.

Letting out a small grunt, you scold him under your breath, “stay calm.”

Your inner peace y/n.

Just as Azula raised her right hand to strike, you closed your eyes, imagining a moment you felt at peace. A moment that made you forget all of the chaos your created in the world.

***

Cold, smooth fingertips tenderly reached out towards you, instinctively making your lungs tightly squeeze together as she brushed the hair out of your eyes. The delicate giggle emitting from her pink stained lips was enough for you to lose all sense of constraint as you take a small step towards her. Hesitantly as you stare that the ground, you take her hand in yours, stroking the back of it with your thumb. The action is so small yet feels so loud in your chest because this is as close as its ever gotten.

Just when you’re about to pull it away completely, terrified that you’ve gone too far, her other hand reaches up, lifting your chin ever so softly as she makes you look at her.

“It’s funny y/n, because even though I’ve lived here my whole life, I’ve never seen snow look quite as beautiful as it does in your hair.”

***

When you reopen them, the heat of your fire runs its way through your veins and your fingertips. The fallen remains all around you burst away, freeing yourself and Aang from its constrains. Seeing your golden fire of pure energy light up the room, Azula is stunned into place, instantly recognising it from the day she visited your cell all those years ago. Glowing golden, eyes peering into the deepest parts of her, it's unnerving how the unusual feeling sinks into her bones. Yet, her moments of distraction leave her as Katara reaches the entryway whipping her arm with water.

Complete rage fills Azula’s body. Not only had she been wholly blindsided by your presence, but she also lost focus. And Azula never loses focus.

Whirling around, she strikes at Katara, sending her running out into the open. Needing to make up for her prior incompetence, Azula runs after her.

“Woah! How did you do that?! That was so cool.”

“There’s no time; you need to go out there and help your friends. Never underestimate that princess.”

Aang’s amazement towards how you freed both of you from the crushing weight of the ceiling faltered as he noticed your choice of words.

“Come with me. Please. I need you.”

Sensing the certainty of his decision, you brushed off some ash from your clothing, wordlessly making your way out of the building.

I’m going to regret this.

With Aang following closely behind, you both join Sokka and Katara, and they face Azula, ready to corner her. Yet she wasn’t giving up just yet. Sending her fire with precision, she takes turns in having a shot at each of you. Luckily enough, you were all able to hold your own.

Backing away slowly, you can tell she thinks that she’s almost about to get a proper hold of the entire situation. But to your greatest joy, she falls flat on her face.

“I thought you guys could use a little help.”

This must be Aangs new earth bending teacher.

“Thanks.” Did Katara just smile?!

Not wasting the opportunity that came with their small distraction, she makes a run for an ally as an escape. Although, once again, she is faced with another hurdle being Iroh, ultimately allowing all seven of you to finally corner her.

In true fashion, she doesn’t allow it to bother her one bit, “well, look at this. Enemies and traitors all working together.”

Taking in everyone one by one, she pauses when her eyes lock with yours. “Even you. Pathetic scum, it seems you still haven’t learnt your lesson. I always told father we should have disposed of you from the moment we caught you.” With that comment, you see Zuko glance towards you in your peripheral vision. This is nowhere near the time right now coal brain.

“I’m done.” Raising her arms in surrender, you almost want to laugh. Do these people seriously believe Azula right now?

“I know when I’m beaten. You got me. A princess surrenders with honour.” Standing before everyone, you instinctively fixate yourself on her, searching for a microexpression to indicate what she’s really about to do.  Her smug smile clearly shows that she’ll most likely attack. But who?

By the time she decides on her target, it’s too late. Sending a direct stream of fire towards Iroh, Zuko lets out a horrified scream, instinctively setting off everyone to attack with their element, or weapon in Sokkas case. You on the other hand, rushed to Iroh’s side knowing that the others were more than capable on their own.

As he lays passed out on the ground, panic slowly swarms in your chest. Fuck, another person is dying because of me! I literally saw her focus on him!

Placing your hands on his chest, you let out a deep breath trying to remember a trick you learned on a mission a while back when you got a deep cut to your side. Focusing on him and his faint heartbeat, despite being a bit shaky, you were able to use your fire, providing him with enough energy to bring his breathing to a steady rate. But the moment was short-lived when you heard an explosion go off, giving Zuko the opportunity to get to his uncle's side, and in turn, shove you away from him.

“Get off him! You’re always in the way! Arghhhh!”

Haistly scrambling to your feet, you stand beside Sokka, understanding that it’s best you try not to help him right now. Katara, on the other hand, didn’t seem to share those feelings with you.

“Zuko, I can help.”

“LEAVE!” as he strikes towards you and everyone else, you stumbled backwards. Memories of a similar flame being struck towards you by his father felt like something inside you snapped. While not directly hitting you, the heat radiating down upon you caused your head to spin, and vision to blur.

It seemed that despite training with fire for the past three years, the action coming from him sent you down a spiral incomparable to anything else.

i-I can’t... I’m…

The earth bender girl immediately sensing what was happening to you didn’t hesitate, “Sokka! Grab her! Quickly, we need to go to Appa.”

“What?! Why me!”

“Shut up!! Her heart rate is literally through the roof right now. We need to help her! Can’t you see her shaking right in front of you?!”

Finally taking a good look at your trembling form, Sokka was too stunned to move.

Aang immediately agreeing with Toph, nudges him before setting off in the direction of Appa. “Sokka, NOW!”

Snapping out of his panicked, frozen state, he rushes towards you, scooping you up into his arms.

“Oh Spirits, I am so so sorry if I’m invading your personal space right now. Please, I’m so sorry. It’ll only be until we reach Appa, okay? I’m so…”

Fisting the cloth of his shirt, you shake your head. “It’s o-okay.” Pushing your face into his chest, you try to regulate your breathing in time with his heartbeat. Something was so unexplainably comfortable about having someone hold you that all of the memories of Ozai burning you, began to make its way back into the depths of your mind. So comforting, that at some point between the village and Appa, you passed out.

When you awoke again, you were high up in the clouds with the sun high in the air. How long was I out?

Deciding to sit upright, the first thing you see is the Water Tribe siblings and the earth kingdom girl facing you.

At first, you thought Toph was about to speak up, yet it seemed that Katara’s suspicions of you beat her to the punch. “Don’t think of moving too fast or trying anything! You're cornered now.”

Your eyebrows raised at that. “Alright, then. How would you like me?”

Upon, hearing your voice Aang physically perked up, completely beaming that you were awake. Without a second thought, he trusted that Appa would be able to fly for a bit on his own, making his way to all of you.

“I’m so glad that you’re okay! I was really worried about you.” Taking his place next to Katara, you were shocked at the stark contrast between his attitude towards you, and hers. It’s like he genuinely cares. Well… I guess that makes sense considering he’s an Air Nomad. Oh spirits, does this mean he’s going to pay even more attention to me than when we first met?!

“Uh… thanks. I appreciate it, but you really didn’t have to.”

“No, of course I did! Plus, I’m grateful that you helped me out with Azula! It’s the least we could do. Right guys?” Still having his glowing smile, he turns to his friends, and it seemed that the only one who truly looked indifferent with the entire matter was the earth kingdom girl who just nodded.

“Thanks, Toph!” Finally, a name.

Once again, Katara was displeased, “yeah whatever. If she’s going to stay with us, she’s going to have to tell us who she is. Don’t think we didn’t hear what Azula said back there about you. You need to explain what she meant by that. How does she know you, and what do you have to do with the Fire Lord?!”

At those questions, you weren’t too happy either, “I don’t want to stay with you! I just need to leave and find Azula again.”

For the first time since you woke up, Sokka decided to say something. “Why would you ever want to do that?! Why do you keep wanting to go back to her when you keep getting separated?! If you ask me it’s clearly a sign that you should stay away because she’s completely insane! She even knows you followed her and everything, so she’s going to have her guard up.”

“You don’t understand. If I don’t get back to Azula, people are going to get hurt. I’ve literally saved your lives on two occasions just by tailing her. Now, think about all of the people she can harm when no one’s watching. I’m also a threat to all of your destinies by being here.”

Uncomfortable with the tension that’s been building at an alarming rate, Aang moves so that he’s sitting in between you and the other three. “Okay, I understand, but could you please explain why you’re a threat by being here? You need to stay safe too, your life matters just as much as everyone else’s and even though you’ve proven yourself more than capable of protecting yourself, there’s no doubt in my mind that you’ll be safe if you go to her and I can't let you go knowing your life is at risk.”

“Aang, there are always risks. Spirits, all four of you are at risk, but you know that it's for the greater good to end this war.”

He shakes his head. “It’s not the same. We have each other; we look after each other. You don’t have that. Please. You don’t have to tell us everything now. I understand since we’ve only met once before, but I promise no matter what it will all be okay and you can be apart of our team. Our family.”

On that note, you hesitated. A family?

No. The spirits have made it clear enough that a family is not in my cards.

“That sounds great, but I don’t think it’ll work out.”

Sokka lets out a frustrated groan, “What? Of course, it will! I know I’m not your biggest fan, but it's clear you’re just as against the Fire Nation as the rest of us!”

Looking around at all of their faces, you can tell that even though Sokka and mainly Katara, still clearly have their reservations about you, they understand where Aang is coming from. Heck, if it meant that they had another person on their side and against Azula and the Fire Nation, that was already a win. You almost felt guilty when you saw their horrified faces as you revealed the truth.

“It won’t work because I’m the Fire Lords personal assassin.”

 taglist: @slythergirlimagines​​ @mangoberry43​​ @eridanuswave​​ @whiskeywinter89​​​ @kaylove12​​ @simplyfandomish​​ @khaleesi-of-assassins​ @callums-keith​ @ilovespideyyy​ @calciumcow​ @blackhood5sos​ @nnon-it-up​ @lozzybowe​ @scarletemeterio​ @reclusive-chicken-nugget​ @simpinforsukka​ @chewymoustachio​ @tiffy119​ @sokkassuki​ @spearbatty​

a/n: hehe hiya friends!! Thanks for reading hehe I hope you enjoyed!! Lelel lmk your thoughts or any predictions for what you think is guna happen next hehe

alsoooo did anyone spot my lil inserts for our second lead? AHAHAHAHAHA

don’t fear either!! Zuko will learn eventually hehehe

but anyway i would love to hear from all of you if you have any feedback as well :))

[slasher-smasher]

16 yrs old

Sinclair Twins x Reader

A huge thank you to the wonderful @thesightstoshowyou for beta reading my mess. I know I just posted the first one, I just have a lot in my head and want to get it down. Thank you for those who are reading, really makes my day. This one is a bit longer. Other parts here: 8 yrs, 19 yrs pt1, 19 pt2\

Warnings: none

Today was a beautiful day. There were no clouds in the bright blue sky, and the trees swished with the caress of an unusually cool breeze that blew through the town of Ambrose.

You were walking toward the station and laughing with friends you made while visiting your Uncle over the summer. Your parents have been fighting more at the most ridiculous things, so you relish the time you get to run away to the busy town.

“There’r drinks at the station we can ‘ave,” you say while wiping the sweat off your forehead.

As your little group enters the blissfully cool garage, you pass your uncle who was currently tucked underneath the body of an off-yellow vehicle.

“Hey Grumps, can we git some soda from the cooler?” You squat down next to him so you can hear him better.

“Sure, don’t care,” the muffled grumble replied, “Er, that Sinclair boy left gifts for ya’ earlier. Sumthin’ ‘bout yer birthday. It’s in my office.” You stand with a puzzled look on your face.

“Sinclair boy? No way it was Vinny. He never leaves the museum.” You ponder while walking to the small office that was tucked into the back. Looking at the desk you find the “gifts,” and let out a short laugh. One was of a poorly whittled wooden rabbit. Or, at least, you think it’s a rabbit.

“Oh Lester,” you sigh with a smile on your face. Next was a wax sculpture of a moth. The figure itself was unnerving in the usual Vincent fashion that just made you love it even more. The moth’s wings have the image of a woman’s face. It was a joke from when you embarrassed yourself when hanging out with Vincent in the House of Wax.

You moved some old papers and let out the highest pitched squeal when a large moth fluttered at your face from being disturbed. You tripped over the chair that was behind you. There was no noise but you could see Vincent’s shoulders shake from his place by the piano, his eye shining with amusement.

“Oh shut it! The damn thing tried to jump on my face!” You could feel the blood rush to your cheeks, but you were happy that the normally stoic man was laughing. A voice that sent chills down your spine broke you out of reminiscing.

“Ya gunna pay fer that?”

‘Oh no,’ you panicked as you gathered the gifts and raced out of the room.

You come into the sight of your friends protesting and saying Y/N gave them the drinks. The eldest Sinclair himself leans against a yellow car that looks like he was working on judging by the grease on his coveralls and cheek. His arms are crossed over his chest, pale eyes set in a frown.

“Bo Sinclair, quit bein’ an ass! Ya’ know Grumps lets me ‘ave some drinks.” You stomped right up in front of the young mechanic, clutching the figures to your chest. He was a whole foot taller than you, so the intimidating effect from your friends’ point of view was a bit washed out.

As Bo looked down at your face, then the sculptures.

He straightened and grabbed your jaw in a firm grip with his right hand, rough from the engineering he likes to study.

The touch making a dream you had flash like lightning behind your eyes of the way his hands caressed your skin and how you awoke breathless, angry, and slick.

His lips slid into a smirk that made you want to slap it off…or maybe run your tongue across it.

‘Fuck off hormones!’ you scolded.

“How was I supposed to know they were with you Prince/Princess?” he asked in that condescending way of his. The blood in your cheeks boiled. You would never admit nor understand why this bastard of a man gets under your skin so easily.

“I told you not to call me that,” you gritted out through your teeth not taking your eyes off his blues that now shined with glee. Oh, how he loves revving you up.

Bo was just about to make a retort that would make you want to break his handsome face when your Uncle yells, “Boy! Git the fuck over ‘ere and help me with this tin can. What am I payin’ ya’ fer?”

Bo closes his eyes and growls under his breath. When he opens them, they are a darker shade, the same shade as when he is angry.

“Another time, sweet cheeks,” he winks as he caresses your cheek with his thumb before he letting go and turning to lean over the hood while your uncle is under. He acts as if you two weren’t surrounded by tension so thick you can suffocate on it.

“Yer still on the fucking fan belt? Damn it old man let me do it.”

“Prick,” you huff and turn to your two friends who seemed like they were frozen, “Let’s go, ya’ll. I want ter see them new puppies they got.” The offer of cooing over cute things seems to perk them up and the chatter and laughter resumed as you all exited the garage.

As you leave you can feel the red-hot burn of Bo’s eyes crawling up your legs and body. Mainly, your ass.

‘Nope, not looking.’ You force yourself to face forward, not at the stormy eyes that follow you as you walk to the pet store down the street. You did your best to ignore the tingling on your face where he touched you.

Later, you find yourself lounging on some dusty couch under the House of Wax where Vincent usually works on his art and spends most of his time. You were facing the ceiling, lost in thought, arms draped over the back, legs crossed at the ankles. The candle that Vincent had for a light source bathed your skin in a warm glow. All you could hear was the scrape of a pencil over the paper as Vincent sketched in his book.

You were thinking about something one of your friends said while you were gushing over the tiny puppies.

“Hey, are ya and Bo together?” she had asked while cuddling a wiggling puppy to her chest. You let out a sharp bark of laughter and shook your head violently.

“With that jerk? Hell no. Most of the time I wanna bop him in the nose whenever he opens his mouth.” You giggled as you watched the pup you were giving attention nibble on your fingers.

“Yeh, but ya’ basically grew up wit them Sinclairs and even went ter the funeral. You guys must be close righ’?” asked your other friend. The mention of Trudy and Victor’s funeral made you sad, though it didn’t show on your face.

You had mixed feelings about it. They weren’t the best of parents; God knows you know firsthand with your own. But you were saddened about how it all ended; Trudy getting sick, and poor Dr. Sinclair. Despair, like a black viscous goo consuming every good thing in your life, swallows you up too. They all deserved better.

You remember when you saw Vincent, Bo, and Lester all standing in front of the casket, heads bowed in their black suits. Lester, being at the age of seven, only knew that his Momma and Pa are gone, too young to grasp the concepts of sickness and heartbreak.

Vincent was, as usual, stiff, and with his mask on you couldn’t tell what was going through his mind. You wanted to comfort and embrace them, but what made your heart feel like it was constricted by fishing wire was Bo. His hands were balled into fists, his face pinched like he was going to scream any second. One would think he would start throwing things, but it was his eyes that gave it away. The watery bright blue eyes that were looking at the face of his mother and jailer.

You have never seen them that clear blue before. A dark, stormy ocean seemed to permanently take residence in his eyes, but not that day. You will never understand the relationship the boys had with their parents, the twisted love they had. Hopefully, the neighbors who volunteered to take them in will fill the gaping hole that has been created.

You doubt it.

The scrape of a chair on the floor made you blink. Lifting your head, you watch Vincent get up from the desk and stand in front of a small block of wax that will soon be transformed into a creature born from the man’s dark imagination. His head cocked to the side as if debating what to do. His midnight hair that is getting longer every year brushed over his right shoulder. Getting up from the couch, you groaned at feeling of the small pops when you stretched.

‘God, how long was I zoned out?’ you thought. Walking behind him, you bit into your bottom lip in hesitation. You knew you had a bit of a crush on the quiet and probably emotionally stunted artist. He was so much better to deal with than that bastard of a twin of his.

‘Ah fuck it,’ you thought, then proceeded to wrap your arms around Vincent who stiffened like he’d been electrocuted.

“I never thanked you for the moth. It’s lovely,” you whispered into his shoulder blades as you laid your head on the middle of his back. He was still like a statue and you started to get worried you overstepped, about to let go when you felt him relax and squeeze your fingers once with his soft warm hands, the total opposite of Bo’s. A soft raspy, “Welcome,” could barely be heard.

You let go and step next to him, tilting your head to see his good eye. You always felt naked when that light blue eye was on you. You did not see any expression in them, just a cold emptiness.

“It was a monster of a moth by the way. I nearly escaped death.” You grinned as you saw him roll his eye in exasperation, “Also, Lester is gunna cut his fingers off wit those knives of his. He’s just thirteen. Where is he gettin’ all those damn things?” Vincent just shrugged and picked up some tools from the tray and proceeded to make his next creation. You huffed and walked back to the couch and ungracefully plopped onto it, content to watch him work in silence.

[plumoh]

[NatsuYuu] along the seams of shadows

Rating: G

Word count: 2079

Summary: Natsume Reiko is a pitiful and lonely human.

Note: AO3 link. A look at Reiko through Madara’s eyes.

Madara’s ears twitch when the tree branch starts creaking and the leaves fall down in a whirlwind of irritating pests. He’s two seconds away from threatening whoever is disturbing his nap when laughter reaches him—a plain, boisterous laughter that leans towards mockery instead of pure joy.

“You really are just a cat, Madara!” the voice says, as close to his face as ever. “Napping on a nice patch of grass, under the sunlight?”

Madara cracks one eye open. The sun is still high in the sky and the breeze that ruffles his fur is a pleasant addition, accompanying his solitary nap far away from noisy and ridiculous small fry. But he can never escape the unpredictability of an annoying, weak human.

“If you say another word you will become my afternoon snack,” Madara warns.

The laughter becomes louder, and in the sunlight that makes shadows bigger, pale hair shines brightly while unnatural eyes glimmer with an even more vivid color.

“I’d like to see you try, you big lump of fluff.”

Natsume Reiko smells like mischief, power and loneliness.

***

This forest isn’t big enough to swallow all the rumors that float around. There is no god protecting it and spreading rules to abide by, which means that everyone is free to do as they like, much to Madara’s displeasure. He’s a magnificent beast with strength that rivals that of a god, capable of destroying entire areas of nature and banishing youkais, but people here treat him like he’s the latest entertainment, to be jeered at by everyone and nobody.

He is not a simple creature that lazes around, and he definitely is not a human child’s pet.

“You should have eaten her long ago if you’re so irritated by these rumors,” Hinoe tells him, looking far too too smug for someone who is, without a doubt, clinging the most to that girl.

“It requires too much effort,” Madara growls, flicking his tail impatiently. “Reiko probably doesn’t taste good anyway. I don’t like my prey jumping and running around, it’s exhausting to look at.”

“You are the most boring beast I know.”

Madara rolls his eyes, turning his head away. “That’s a bold accusation when Misuzu is right here.”

“Misuzu is funny, at least. You, on the other hand, are boring.”

Hinoe draws from her pipe and exhales noisily, chuckling when some of the smoke gets into Madara’s eyes. Madara groans and rises on his paws, lifting a cloud of dust and dirt along with him, and a few little plant youkais scamper off deeper into the forest with squeaks. Madara watches them flee for their lives, feeling vindicated.

“I am a respected and intimidating beast, that’s what I am,” he huffs.

“Yeah, a beast that still refuses to play a game with me because he’s scared.”

Hinoe bursts out laughing while Madara tries his hardest not to simply snap and leave. Reiko jumps down from a tree (why is she always climbing trees?) and lands onto Madara’s back, her lips curled into a grin that could have been fueled by the sun’s spite, bold but burning.

Sometimes, Madara finds himself unable to make sense out of this girl appearing and disappearing from his life like a tornado.

“I told you I don’t have time to waste on your ridiculous games,” Madara says.

Reiko tilts her head, never ceasing to be the arrogant and confident person she poses as whenever she makes her words sharp and cutting.

“Hinoe is right, you are boring,” she snickers.

Madara’s tail hits the ground in annoyance, and he shows the barest hint of his teeth.

“Don’t you have human things to do, instead of bothering me during my peaceful rest?”

Reiko shrugs, sliding off Madara. She smooths over her skirt and passes a hand through her hair, as if they’ve never seen her in a dishevelled state or covered in mud after an encounter with rambunctious youkais. She stays silent, her smile frozen, but her eyes are blazing with a quiet, raging fire that sends chills down Madara’s spine. She’s only a young girl, inexperienced and foolish, running around and upsetting the natural order of things in this forest—but behind all this brashness, Madara senses something deeply unsettling.

“Human things aren’t as interesting as coming here and hearing you grouch like an old man,” Reiko answers. “Hinoe, you said you wanted to show me a new curse.”

Madara ignores the way Hinoe coos at Reiko like she is the most precious creature she’s ever seen, and observes. Reiko is someone they shouldn’t mess with, that is for certain; Madara doesn’t quite know yet why he cannot shake off the feeling she’s wrapping them around her finger.

***

Madara being Reiko’s pet becomes more of a joke than a real fact believed by everyone, and ultimately it doesn’t change anything in the way Madara’s strength is perceived. The others make fun of him for letting her live in spite of the influence she has on his image as the greatest beast of the forest, but for the time being he’s one of the very few who didn’t get his name down in the stupid book, so there.

There has been some turmoil and unrest in the neighborhood, lately. A vicious youkai destroying everything standing in its way, threatening small fry for information and leaving behind trails of blood that scare the weakest of them. Madara doesn’t feel particularly concerned about this kind of rampage, which happens a lot more often than people would believe. It’s best to let it pass and not get involved in this youkai’s affairs.

That is what he would have done, were he alone. In times like these, Madara remembers why he chose to live in solitude and not surrounded by other beings who have the survival instincts of insignificant bugs.

“The destroyed trees fall down and block some roads in the forest,” Reiko grumbles, tapping her foot. “People can’t circulate anymore, and cleaning that mess up will take many weeks.”

Madara sighs, glancing at the area of destruction. The claw marks on the trunks indicate that whoever they’re going to go up against might rival Madara in size, while the pace at which the forest is being attacked tells them it’s also nimble on its feet. Not an ideal situation, then.

“Why do you care about that?” Madara asks, turning back his head to look at her. “You don’t like the people of this town, and they don’t wander in the forest as frequently as you do.”

Sometimes, imperceptibly, Madara catches a flicker of pain in Reiko’s eyes at the mere mention of her own desires. It’s not a physical pain, nor is it a pain associated with the events she’s currently dealing with—it comes from within, deep from her soul and emerging in her gaze for one second. She hides it well. She carries this pain everywhere she goes, but she hides it well.

Madara never comments on it. He watches her school the features of her face back into ones she’s crafted over the years, all mischieviousness and no nonsense. Reiko grins and acts like the royal princess she has become in this tiny pocket of otherworldly space she is the only one to trespass into.

“I don’t like seeing people do whatever they want, like they’re owning this place,” she declares, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “The smaller youkais have been pestering me to do something about it. And it’s destroying my napping spots, too. I’m sure you wouldn’t want to have your favorite tree cut down either.”

She’s an odd girl and a mystery Madara doesn’t pretend to understand. She’s confidence and contradiction and selfishness all at once, making it impossible to untangle the knots of her emotions—she uses words and rash actions to cover it up, like a nice tapestry concealing the damage done by a kid’s tantrum.

There is kindness in her selfishness, Madara thinks. Reiko obeys no one’s rules, and she makes up her own for her silly games, but her heart isn’t as corrupted as it may seem. And for this lost human shunned by everyone, doing small services unseen by her peers, Madara only feels pity.

He huffs, and takes off to find the troublesome youkai, whose name will end up tied to a piece of paper.

***

“That book of yours is useless if you’re not using its intended purpose.”

“Its intended purpose is to show off and to instill fear in my enemies.”

“You don’t have natural enemies, foolish girl, you’re creating them yourself.”

Reiko tips her head backwards and laughs, a sound carrying over the wind and echoing against the stone walls. She looks at Madara like he’s the one who has said idiotic things.

“It’s preemptive,” she says. “I’ve never felt that powerful before inventing the book.”

“The words that come out of your mouth are incomprehensible to me,” Madara grunts. “Humans are so unnecessarily complicated and confusing.”

“Don’t talk like you know how humans behave. You’ve barely had any contact with them.”

“And this is exactly why I find them annoying.”

Reiko smiles. She has her legs plunged into the cold but clear water of the lake, on this summer day that feels both too hot and too humid. Madara himself is lying down, head pillowed on his front legs and enjoying the slow pace of his day. He warned Reiko that playful and impish youkais would steal her shoes, that she had carelessly thrown in the grass, but she shrugged and didn’t find it particularly upsetting.

How strange, and how perplexing, to encounter someone who doesn’t adhere to any of the world concepts Madara knows. Reiko doesn’t belong to the realm of ordinary humans, and she has no knowledge of the exorcist community; she is an entity dancing on the blurred hinge of these worlds.

“I don’t need to use the power of their names, since I’ll never see them again,” Reiko finally says. “It’s only awkward if I happen to meet one of them and can’t remember who they are.”

“So you admit this book is useless to you,” Madara snorts. “Give it to me, then.”

Reiko scoops up water between her hands, and flicks it at Madara’s eyes. Madara wrinkles his nose and staggers back, glaring at Reiko’s self-satisfied expression.

“You’re a nuisance,” he tells her.

“And you’re not fun,” Reiko replies. “It’s my Book of Friends, so you don’t get to steal it from me. Attaching a name to a face makes it easier to call them friends.”

A pitiful human, truly.

“...They’re not your friends,” Madara says.

Reiko’s shrug feels measured. She gets out of the water, doesn’t bother drying her feet before retrieving her shoes (that are still where she left them) and putting them on. Madara’s eyes follow her movements, choosing to remain where he is.

“Maybe not,” Reiko concedes, her back turned on Madara. “I wouldn’t want to, anyway. But they gave me their names. Names are important, right?”

Natsume Reiko barges into their life without prompting and wrecks havoc on everything they know. She rips away their routine and replaces it with unpredictable events, summoned by her presence alone in these lands. She moves like nothing ties her down anywhere, but she’s restless. The tightness around her shoulders makes her small and fragile, when her entire attitude seems to prove she is none of that.

Madara doesn’t understand her. Her words and her actions are hard to parse, and he’s not sure she understands herself sometimes. She is simply grander than life itself.

“I hope you’ll play a game with me one day, Madara.” Reiko doesn’t fully face him but a small smile pulls up her lips. “You can’t run away from me forever!”

“Hmpf. I’m not interested in these childish games.”

“You’ll change your mind eventually!”

Reiko waves her hand and disappears in the forest, probably heading back to the home of her caretakers. Madara actually doesn’t know if she does live with them—she could have taken up residence in one of the old shrines with how often she visits them, for all he knows.

Madara curls up and closes his eyes. The Book of Friends, she’s called it. Such an innocent name for what is probably the most dangerous weapon against youkais—and it is simply used by a sentimental girl as a personal reassurance she is not alone.

Natsume Reiko already has friends. She just chooses not to see it.

[reinepadova]

To Be Seen

[←Previous]  | Chapter 7 |  [ Next → ]

To see once is preferable compared to hearing a hundred times – I wonder. Will you accept my truth as you see it?

“So. A consultant,” Stella stated mildly after a period of silence, a gentle breeze brushing back her hair, and rolling clouds made her glance at the horizon. She felt the chill of the stone beneath her contrast with the warmth of her hand – her fingers smoothed over the intricate carvings at its edges.

“That is correct,” came the calm reply, a careful distance away from her left.

Stella hummed. “Is this your true form then?” She specified, minutely looked over at the seated man before looking away.

“I adapt to many forms,” he clarified, voice vibrating in a soothing timbre. “But I am not born from a mortal life.”

Stella saw in her periphery the gentleman angling his shoulders to face her, and narrow eyes observing her form. She closed her eyes, trying to keep still and polite, but the urge to slap him to make him look away crossed her mind several times. Why won't he stop? It's one thing to enter a staring contest with a little snake creature – which in some ways resemble an exotic, cuddly pet – but its another thing to hold gazes with this structure. This... man.

She's still undecided on how to settle her feelings about it.

“I see,” she replied, eyes turning to follow the reflection of the moon on the moving water. “And, you work with a funeral parlor? Isn't that an ironic occupation for a not-mortal?”

“Perhaps. I see it as fitting – for the times,” he hummed in low gravitas, expression turning distant. “In Liyue, there is a saying, 'the best time to plant a tree, was twenty years ago. The second best time, is today. I wish to honor they whom made this land prosperous – no matter how great or small the contribution.”

Stella glanced at the hand near her on the bench, the gleam of the amber stone shone dully in the night. 'This' land? Does he mean the harbor? Or...Liyue in general?

But that means –

“You're not just a little guardian in Qingce Village, are you? Why would you be here, if you were its sole protector? Why did we have to say good bye then, at the edge of the harbor? And you, in this form? A job? For a... spirit? Entity? I just – I don't – this world is so – ” Stella cut-off her words with a muffled sigh, head bowed into her hands. She belatedly realized what she almost blurted out.

If this keeps up, I'll be exposed as even more of a foreigner.

But... this is Mr. Guardian. Will it be bad to tell him?

There was a beat of surprise before he answered, sounding oddly apologetic. “I should have placed more consideration on your insight. It was not my intent to distress you, but I shall not justify my shortcomings. Know that I am still he who found you at the rockface,” he reassured gently, his presence growing closer at her bent form.

Found me... Yes. I suppose he did.

Like a stray, aren't I?

Stella remained quiet, lowering her hands to trace her life lines as she thought.

Wasn't that her intention awhile ago? To find a stray to be her companion? When the nights grow cold and Mei tucked safely in bed. When memories come to haunt her in the dark – of things she could not control – of things she wished she could control – while choking on her screams to prevent disturbing anyo –

“What is this?” A warm presence was suddenly before her, fingers brushing against her cheek. The man pulled away to show them stained in shining red.

“Oh,” she noted dully, mechanically drawing a cloth from a pocket to wipe quickly at her face. She then gingerly took the man's hand and dabbed at them next. “I'm sorry for dirtying them. I'll have them replaced. It's not good to use only one pair in a matched set.”

He stared, brows low, before slowly shaking his head – Stella idly noted the lighter hues of brown at the tips of his hair – his composed expression turning serious. She could feel the burn of his gaze trying to check around her face while she stubbornly tried to avoid meeting them. “That does not matter. Where is your injury?”

“I have no injury,” Stella uttered reflexively, accustomed to such inquiries.

This is so awkward. Why did he have to kneel down? Why does he have to be pushy even in this form?

At the feel of burning in her eyes again, Stella twisted her upper body, and dabbed at the inner corner of her eyes as discreetly as she could. Unfortunately, he picked up on the implication right away. “Why does your lifeblood flow so?” he whispered, sounding unusually disconcerted. His fingers rested on the edge of the bench next to her hip – a thin streak of red left on it.

Even after three days, she knew him enough to know he never not knows anything – if his long tales of the giant vase at the lounge, the history of tea, or the gossip about his expertise was any indication. Even Ferrylady defers to him when he speaks with a sureness of someone with a quick understanding of any matter put before him – even a topic as mundane as the hair used in a writing brush.

Surely such an all-knowing person – being – is unsettled with the unknown – despite being shrouded in mystery himself – and not because she crying... like this.

But she couldn't refute, or comfort him. Not right now. Not when she couldn't speak properly – her feelings, a jumbled mess. This was the most out of control she's felt after dropping to this world –

Stella gritted her teeth, waiting for her running emotions to pass – willing them all to sink back into the deep.

She was inattentive of the figure quietly watching the transparent changes to her face, a concern slant to his brow.

When thunder rumbled, and darker clouds moved to cover the moon, she uttered her words in an even tone – a clarity and nonchalance she wished she had at the beginning of this conversation.

“Because I have no tears left to shed.”

Eerie silence followed her statement, the most uncomfortable she felt with the unnatural gentleman yet. Determined to salvage what's left of her dignity, Stella stood and dusted her skirt excessively. She moved to swerve around the bench to leave.

Even at the risk of being seen as rude, it's for the best she leave. She should get back to Mei's anyway and take shelter from the rain.

As she sped pass the stone bench, she heard long strides catching up to her easily. She slowed at the soft plea in his tone when he next spoke.

“Let me accompany you to your residence. Take it as an exchange for holding you back from doing so at an earlier hour.”

Pursing her lips – mostly out of guilt – Stella turned back to face him, with arms crossed.

Exchange? Figures. He would think that way. Liyue, the Land of Contracts indeed.

I just thought that was only for business...

“No, you did no wrong. It's alright. I can walk myself just fine. I would not obligate you to do this. You really don't have – w-what?” she sputtered, surprised at his nearing figure, before a large parasol shielded her from a sudden downpour. At the faint glow in the dark, she instinctly looked up, catching sight of his composed, amber eyes – like a moth to a lantern's light.

Their proximity in the umbrella was left unnoticed.

“Where on Liyue did this come from?” Stella asked, bewildered, gesturing to the canopy of their shelter. She didn't remember him carrying anything when they went out. He wouldn't have gotten a parasol from inside the parlor in such a short amount of time –

...can he?

She furrowed her brows when the corner of his eyes slowly wrinkled in amusement, despite the continued stoicism of his face. He adjusted his grip on the handle, which directed her gaze at the glowing cracks on the shaft, with angular shapes carved into its surface.

That...doesn't look like wood.

“Have you need of one yourself? I know of a reliable merchant down at the port who produces umbrellas from carefully sourced bamboo. They come in a variety of designs to choose from, depending on the occasion, or whim. I recommend a customization, and order at least four, to match each season of Liyue,” he suggested, a pleased smile growing on his face.

“I'll... keep that in mind,” she deadpanned, wondering if he has any idea how expensive customization is on anything.

Do spirits even understand the concept of money management?

When she huffed and started walking, heedless of the rain, he strode effortlessly to match her step, his elbow brushing her arm occasionally.

Curse his long legs. Why did he have to adapt to a form this tall?

She felt tiny compared to him – the top of her head barely reached his shoulder. In her irritation, she ignored the subtle movement of his arm – an offering to take it for her to rest on – and focused on her destination, not wanting to catch a cold.

“For the grandmother's memorial plaque, what design did you have in mind for it?” he asked out of the blue.

Startled, Stella answered without thought, “A Qingxin flower. Maybe three or five, grouped together.”

“Mm. None of the blooms at Yujing Terrace caught your eye?”

Having a new focus, her emotions calmed – the delicate thrum of water on stone centering her attention. She hummed in disagreement after a thought. “That would be typical, wouldn't it? The source of Liyue's famous silk, the go-to perfumes for women everywhere. The Lilies are nice too, when they don't shy away. But they don't seem... enough? They don't hold much meaning to me. To me personally.”

As Stella went deeper into her thoughts, she unconsciously walked closer to her companion, as if entrusting him to guide her path. The thought made his eyes soften, but otherwise, he stared straight ahead. She continued.

“But, more than a week ago, I saw in a book at Wanwen Bookhouse what the Qingxin flower looked like. A translucent white, found high up in the mountains, and blossoming in groups of four at a time. It's looks the most similar to – ah, from a place I... know? where I grew up. Yeah, that's it.”

“A flower from home?” he suggested graciously, the low tones enveloping her within the intimate space. Stella blinked, surprised at how stiff her shoulders were as she dragged them down, before looking up at gold orbs that glanced at encouragement.

Stella wonders why it puts her at ease.

“Yes. They're a very old species – or so I was taught. What it looks like today, is what it would have looked centuries ago. Like how Glaze Lilies are? How their form seems unchanged? So, the flowers I grew up seeing have different colors, and each have different meaning. The white one is said to be a perfect symbol for loyalty and strength and womanly beau – ”

When Stella became a little more animated, gesturing for emphasis, the gentleman leaned in, lowering his elbow enough for a stray hand to fall right into. She went on without skipping a beat, absentmindedly moving closer to the new source of warmth as a cold breeze sweeped through their coats.

“ – Mei's grandmother was very kind to take me in. And before I arrived, she single-handedly raised Mei when her parents passed. The Qingxin reminds me of how steadfast she was. How dedicated.”

She stopped walking, a stray thought crossing her mind. The gentleman turned to face her in a slow pivot – careful to not let her fingers fall as he waited.

“Mei reminds me of someone I knew.  There were many things I regret. Mei – she's my second chance. I want to do better for her. But there are just some days I wish I could do more,” Stella sighed, absently rubbing at her eyes before she strode forward again, pulling slightly at his arm to direct their way.

-{-}-

Morax stared with deep sympathy, understanding perfectly how heavy the weight of responsibility feels.

But. A wish...

“What do you desire for Young Meilin?” he probed – a proposal on the tip of his tongue, his eyes shone in a split second.

I may be off-duty but... for only this time...

She hummed and thought, before shrugging her shoulders. “Just for her to be happy. That's all,” the lady said simply, eyes shutting for a moment. “I want her to keep smiling. Its the only thing I wanted for myself growing up. She deserved the childhood I never had...” Her words trailed as her head pitched forward, shaking it briefly when her neck ached.

Morax could only watch for cues on where to go, following her lead as he contemplated. The rain poured harder in their wake.

To keep smiling... For myself...

To be happy...

What I deserve...

I am... content, of Liyue's prosperity. Of how far it grew since it's infancy.

It's what I've endeavored for many years. For the common folk to cease suffering from an age where gods and monsters rein in their conflict. Of war and infestations dominated the earth.

But...

Am I happy?

As they approached a quaint building of old wood and stone, Morax observed the nondescript door before him, taking note of the faint glow from the window next to it before it swiftly went out. He hummed, pleasantly diverted from his thoughts.

Seems like the little one has been vigilant in her wait.

He was about to announce their arrival but stopped at the feel of a weight on his side. He looked down and saw the charming sight of the lady dozing on his arm, hair falling artfully to frame her face.

It took him but a moment to etch this scene to his memory, but he selfishly waited for a few minutes before waking her with a light touch to her cheek. She woke in an instant.

“Well, this is me,” the lady declared, quickly pulling away when she realized their proximity. She glared at her hand as if it betrayed her.

“May I sleep with you tonight?” he asked, resting his parasol under the overhang of the apartment to let it dry.

The lady turned wide eyes at him, mouth opened in disbelief. She then scanned their surroundings, like weasel thief being hunted. Morax blinked at her unusual behavior.

At the sight of his confused face, she asked, “Do you not realize what you just said? Out loud?” Vexation colored her tone, brows furrowed low.

To sleep is to rest, is it not?

Let's see, 'sleeping' in this century mean –

Oh.

“Pardon my poor choice of words,” he chuckled quietly, a fist reaching up to cover his mouth. “But, you have not disagreed when I asked if you have not been resting well after we parted ways, yes?”

“Well, I suppose – ”

“Then if my presence has helped you sleep soundly, then I would like to aid you again.”

The lady stared at him for a long moment before frowning. “Please, don't speak of what you don't mean.”

“I beg your pardon?” Morax tilted his head, noting how defensive her posture is again.

“I appreciate your intention, Mr. Guardian. I really do. But my struggles are not yours to bear.”

“Zhongli.”

“Excuse me?” she asked, a lost look to her expression.

“As precious as I find your appellation to be. In this form, I am called Zhongli.”

“...precious? I don't – Ugh. Fine. Zhongli.” He smiled.

“And just as you do not feel obligated to care for Young Meilin,” he continued, eyes narrowing in earnest. “I too do not feel so. With you.”

Before Morax could understand the stir of emotion that swell in her gaze, the lady consented, with only a little bit of reluctance. “Okay. Alright. You won't give up until I agreed anyway.  But, answer me honestly please. It's the only thing still bothering me.”

“Yes?”

The lady took a deep breath, before gazing at him just as earnestly. “How do you benefit from you helping me?”

“Why must you think I want something in return?”

She scoffed, crossing her arms. “I am not naive. This place, this region – I am aware that people here are very fond of contracts. Of an equal exchange. Its expected.

So. What do you want? And don't answer my question with another question.”

The burn of a proposal was still at the tip of Morax' tongue. But right now –

“Nothing. Just knowing you are able to rest, is enough for me.”

– he resisted it strongly.

The lady widened her eyes before closing them, realizing the echo of her previous words.

Morax stood still, waiting for her to acknowledge his sincerity.

Eventually, her shoulders sagged in acceptance before she turned to unlock the door. She let him in first with a careless wave, offering to hang his coat as she went. When she walked over to the garment hanger after he conceded, his sharp senses heard a scamper of little feet approach.

“Lala? You're la – Oh. Who you, mister?”

Morax smiled at the girl, who took a few seconds to study his clothes before looking up into his eyes. She gasped at their glow.

“Bìxià!”

“We meet again, little one,” he greeted with a subdued smile after eyeing her white dress.

To have the strength to be cheerful despite the odds...

Stopping to lean forward around the privacy screen to check on her guardian – who was smoothing his coat at the hangar – the little girl ran excitedly to his side, the rain barely hiding the sound. She tugged at his vest, and bounced on her toes. She looked pointedly at his height. He chuckled, getting the message. He rested on one knee before her.

“Bìxià, Lala no sleep after you went away. Will you stay now? Please? I cook you super yummy, extra sauce-y food! And, and, I'll pick the shiniest berry in the garden. Or you like chili better? Do you want other stuff? Please tell me!” She uttered boldly, determination shining brightly in the dark. He patted her head warmly, amused at how much guardian and ward think alike – their care for each other is admirable.

“I have no need for an offering, sweet one. It is also my wish to help your... Lala... rest as well. But if you would still like to prepare a meal, I will be happy to accept.”

Biting her lips to keep from squealing, she hopped on the spot instead. “Thank you, thank you, Bìxià! Gran-gran was right. You're the best!”

But hearing the soft thud of approaching feet, she hurried to say, “I'll cook the best noodle dish ever! Uuhh – for lunch! Tomorrow! Please look forward to it. I'm going to bed now. I'm really sleepy. Niiiight!” She bid cheerfully after bowing low, beaming at him afterward. He indulged her with a nod before she scampered off, the pitter-patter of her feet did little to hide her presence as the lady drew close.

“Oh. Was that Mei? I should check up on her,” she said, moving to enter the sleeping quarters. She stopped as he shook his head.

“That would not be necessary. She is in want of sleep, she says, now that you're back safe,” Morax assured. He stood to take off his shoes before joining her at the doorway.

“Mm? If you say so,” she conceded, but she drew a brow as their gaze met. “By the way, she couldn't explain to me well the word she keeps calling you. Is it a title?”

“Ah. Its a respectful term in Liyue. It goes to show she is a well-mannered child.”

She chuckled, looking proud – a rare sight to behold.

“Yes. She really is. I'm glad she's not too mature for her age. She still gets to be carefee. I –”

When she brought a hand up to delicately cover a yawn, he intervened. “Shall we then?”

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

[←Previous]  | Chapter 7 |  [ Next → ]

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

A/N: I had to cut it. This chapter was getting too long.

If you’re curious, I thought Qingxin sort of look like Magnolia. It smells really good as a lotion.

I made a modified Almond Tofu for Xiao’s banner, but I don’t think I have the know-how, nor the ingredients for the Slow-cooked Bamboo Soup.

I offer this fic instead uwu

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Follower Tag:  @meladollsims

[plaguedquillfeathers]

In the Aether: A Dream SMP Deity AU

❝ Even gods bleed. The issue is that, in the aether, they’ve chosen to bleed willingly.❞

So I’ve been thinking about this for a while, and I’ve decided to post it regardless of if I actually go through with it completely!

Have a Dream SMP, but they’re all gods!

Basically, think of the dream smp, but instead of them just being members, they’re the gods that control how the world exists. Think about it: villagers being so fearful of which god decides to whisk them away for wars and creatures of the night trying to kill them for existing only to have themselves harvested for obviously magical properties? Fun as heck!

Anyway, here’s some notable deity titles (with more under the thread)!

Dream as the God of Desires -- of wishes, even dreams themselves. Nothing can be can be concrete without that spark to make it flare, but as his need to fulfil everyone's desires grew deeper, he fell into a dangerous loop. His own wish for things to "go back to normal", to have control, has thus corrupted what he thought he knew, poisoning the minds of all under his watch. The aether’s darling child, he is the reason the gods came together under one sky.

JSchlatt as the God of Conflict. Originally banished to maintain order, he returned with the sole purpose of creating friction -- of tipping the scales. In his death, he still won, for the friction is now more present than ever. They all need him to have a purpose, to have something to fight for. He knew that all along, and oh, would he do it again.

Philza as the God of Life and Death. Since both concepts can only be separated by a moment not noticed by many, he likes to only go by the god of life. Unfortunately, things don't work that way. 

Technoblade as the God of Anarchy -- of that pesky thing that refuses to have an order. The voices are the lost essence of all forms of chaos, refusing to fade off into the aether. They fuel the Blood God, yes, but their chaos is addictive. It’s uncontainable. 

Wilbur Soot as the God of Imagination (and budding god of music!). His idea of creation was corrupted beyond compare, leading to his demise. Ghostbur, however, is something else entirely...Or is he?

Tommy(Innit) as the presumed God of Mischief, but actually the God of Rebellion. Always pushing the envelope, he's young and slowly understanding himself. It's a slow process, but with control being a major factor in the deities’ realm, it’s a struggle.

Tubbo as the God of Loyalty, of keeping oaths. He’s still reeling from the greatest oath he had to break with his best friend, as well as the continuously broken loyalties of his allies. However, his oath to Tommy remains strong, despite the cracks in their armor.

Eret as the Deity of Fate, with eyes that mirror what life could be for a person if they stare into them. They maintain the museum as a way to show that things were always bound to happen. It was always meant to be. Hmm, but what if...

Nihachu being the Goddess of Freedom, scorned one too many times because her kindness was taken advantage of, not to mention her message being corrupted to further agendas that soon went against her very being. 

Fundy being the God of “The Crossroads” -- of Choice. He is still too young and inexperienced to understand his own power, endlessly seeking others to make his choices for him 

Ranboo as the God of Memory, lost in his own mind as he tries to recover what he has lost. He needs to find those shades of grey again, but as the realm continuously shifts, he can’t help but feel hopeless at times.

Awesamdude as the God of Knowledge, objective and impartial, emotions hidden for the sake of learning all there is to know. He is known far and wide for some of the most elaborate things, so it's no shock that feeds off the desire to create something greater; however, while Dream is willing to exploit this, Sam is highly aware that things are off(tm). 

Quackity as the God of Transformation -- of change, really. Like fundy, he was soon manipulated into seeking out the meaning of his worth, which had disastrous (and lingering) results. 

Karl Jacobs as the God of Time. People underestimate him because he’s so damn nice to everyone, but given that he sees so many timelines, he’s learned that being happy in the moment is the best action.

Callahan as the God of Silence, but actually the God of Intuition. In silence, one can truly hear their true intentions. He never speaks a word, for the gods know he already knows. 

Sapnap as the self-proclaimed God of the Hunt, but officially known as the God of Passion. Having harnessed flame like a well loved pet, his skills (and determination) surpass even the most angry of blazes.

CaptainPuffy as the Goddess of Victory. She’s very good friends with a lot of people, but her competitiveness does cause some messy situations. Somehow, she’s managed to get into Dream’s radar, and she worries for him. 

GeorgeNotFound as the God of Luck. Having avoided much conflict and stayed naïve to many things, it's not a surprise that his presence among Dream seems to boost the God's infallible air. 

BadBoyHalo as the God of Protection. He's bound to skeppy by choice, but tends to focus more on keeping those he deems worthy safe. The fact that a mysterious egg has corrupted him of all people should be hella concerning...

Skeppy as the God of Mischief. Funnily enough, he gets along will with Techno despite their obvious differences, while being one of the few that manages to get Bad to loosen up without much effort.

Antfrost as the God of Healing, usually seen around the inherent healer that is nature itself. He’s a master of alchemy, and an animal lover.

Punz as the God of Strategy. He’s a seemingly close ally of dream, but willing to switch sides if the battlelines shift. He is well respected amongst many deities and uses that power to breeze through conflict with ease.

Alyssa the Goddess of Travel. A rather rare figure to see, but she's the reason gods have a safe journey into the lands they all inhabit. 

Ponk as the God of Sacrifice. A callback to his cat killing days, he believes that one cannot take without giving. Sometimes, you must lose something to gain something in return.

JackManifoldTV is the God of Abundance, given his previous obsession with Manifoldland. He's constantly underestimated, but he realizes his worth when he cheats death. He's always been more than enough... it's time to prove it.

Purpled as the God of Courage. He's not afraid to stand by his thoughts, usually rubbing off on those he is currently protecting. An important ally to have in a fight.

ConnorEatsPants as the God of Charm. He utilises this to get out of bad situations, mostly. if he can avoid the more brutal gods, He's happy that way, even managing to get into Conflict’s good graces.

Hbomb as the God of Fun. He’s always trying to cut through the chaos that is the deities with something that brings them together, even if it’s for a little while.

Vikkstar as the God of Inspiration. As one of the oldest gods present, and a massive inspiration to a lot of them, he tries not to interfere, instead making his home with his friend and waiting for the younger ones to sort their shit out.

Lazarbeam as the God of Tradition. He remembers the days before these newer gods roamed, watching silently as they figure themselves out. Like Vikk, he doesn’t get involved.

 FoolishGamers as the God of Rebirth. A recent addition, and actually an offshoot of Philza’s side of things, he’s still settling in. Perhaps, he can be of assistance...Hopefully he picks the right side.

Slimecicle & Hannahxxrose as the God/Goddess of -- Well, TBA.

And a Bonus:

MrBeast as the God of Charity! Everyone loves him. That is all.

[loveafterthefact]

Love After the Fact Chapter 44: Lost and Found Part 2

Shiro enlists Keith's help finishing his mission.

First  Previous  Next

Shiro wakes still propped against his tree, staring up into a dawn sky and needle-leafed branches. Looking down, he realizes that the kit is curled up right next to him, almost but not quite touching. They hold their plumed tail in their hands. Their long, sand-fighting lashes flutter against the velvet beneath their lids, just before their fur begins in earnest.

“Seems you made a friend,” Drama observes, staring at the kit from her place by a crackling fire.

“Shut up and gimme some elk,” Shiro grumbles.

“Aw, cute. A little young for you though, don’t you think? Though it seems that some of us are into that.” Haxus smirks. Ulaz pauses, glaring at Haxus. The lieutenant has a significantly younger, very pregnant mate back at the compound with their first-born kit. Shiro swallows his irritation. He dislikes Haxus and Sendak, who’s still asleep a short ways away. They didn’t start out as bad people. He's trained with them, worked with them from the very beginning. But people deal with war in different ways. Some become kinder, others jaded and cold.

But they’ve both given up a lot, and Shiro trusts them to follow his orders whether they like those orders or not. They’ve all saved each others’ lives more than once.

At Shiro’s side, the kit stirs, blinking large eyes at him. “Good morning. Are you hungry?”

Drama creeps over, careful not to startle the kit. She passes over some of the elk meat. With a growl, the kit shrinks, huddling behind Shiro’s tree. A fearful chirp escapes their mouth, catching the attention of the adults.

“Easy now,” Shiro murmurs as his team instinctively leans toward the kit. “They’ve been alone for a long time. We don’t want to scare them.”

“Him.” It’s so quiet, Shiro’s only sure he heard it because Ulaz’ ear twitches. “Keith.”

It’s a small voice, hoarse with disuse.

“Keith,” Shiro murmurs. “Nice to meet you, Keith. I’m Captain Shirogane, but you can call me Shiro. Everyone does.”

“Shiro,” the kit -Keith- rasps out. He slips from behind Shiro, crouches a short distance away.

“Do you think you could help us with something?”

Keith shrinks back a bit, fingers sinking into the loose dirt. He’s clean, Shiro suddenly realizes. Disheveled, but not unkempt, hair tangled but not matted. There must be a place nearby where he bathes, because it hasn’t rained in movements. Another good sign. There’s hope for Keith yet.

“We came here to find a man called Akira. He lived in that den.” Shiro points. “Do you know him?”

A nod.

“Can you take us to him? His littermate misses him. He sent us to find him and bring him home.”

Ears wilting, the kit hesitates, tail curling tighter at his feet. Finally, after a long hesitation, he nods again. “Far.”

Shiro returns the nod, turns to his team. “Haxus, wake Sendak. We’ll be taking a hike shortly. Leave the elk here.”

As they’re leaving, the kit slips into the den, emerges with a green primate. He gestures to his pet. “BleepBloop.”

Shiro grins at the primate’s adorable name, likely one given during Keith's early kittenhood. “Nice to meet you, BleepBloop.”

Smiling at BleepBloop, Keith turns, slings the primate on his back, climbs a nearby tree, leaps to the next like he was born for it.

The first thing Shiro notices on their walk is that Keith is enjoying himself. The kit seems to like being outside, smiling as he leaps from branch to branch above them, BleepBloop either clinging to his back, or moving alongside. The second thing Shiro notices is the kit's persistent curiosity. Every now and then he stops to investigate some odd noise or seemingly random plant or bug.

He’s still wearing Shiro’s cloak, making him wonder if perhaps Keith has some concept of nudity or if he feels exposed compared to the others. Maybe he just likes the fabric. Maybe it’s because it was a gift.

Either way, he’s rather endearing, the entire squad seeming to grow fond. Even Sendak cracks a smile once or twice.

Any pleasantness vanishes when Keith stops, settling onto the ground once again, digging his bare toes into the dirt at the edge of a ravine. Shiro turns to the kit in question.

Keith’s ears droop, staring down into the canyon. He begins to slide down the side cliff face, and it’s immediately obvious that he knows the way down.

“Haxus, Entri, keep lookout up here.”

“Yes, sir.” Entri draws her bow, and Haxus loosens his sword, giving Shiro a nod. He'll look after his younger colleague.

The way down is narrow, but worn, as if Keith has been down this way many times. Shiro tries not to dwell on the idea of a little kit stumbling down the crumbling cliff face.

At the bottom, Keith crosses the creek, stops by an oblong mound of stones. Ulaz and Drama curse in unison. The others grimace or look away. Keith himself settles on the ground in an earthy depression, curls up against the stones, violet eyes large and sad. It's habitual. He must come here often.

Firn trips over something. “Fuck!”

Keith hisses; everyone turns to look. He’s tripped over a white cuirass. Shiro bares his teeth in a growl. Alteans killed Akira, left his kit to die, likely deliberately. A spiteful, unnecessarily cruel act. He doubts the well-known dissenter was the aggressor, that he instigated any confrontation. He doubts they even knew who they were killing. They probably just did it for fun.

It’s the first time Shiro’s ever really felt hatred for his neighbors, the ones who came bringing the promise of life beyond their own planet. But he pushes that aside, crouches down next to the kit. He wants to rub his ear, take him home, keep him safe. It has to be Keith's choice.

“Keith?” The only response Shiro gets is a twitch of the kit’s ear. “I want you to think about coming with us.”

Keith scrambles back, fur bristling. “No. Staying here. With Dad!”

“You don’t have to, but you wouldn’t have to be alone.” That sparks an interest, the kit’s ears twitching with curiosity. "You could stay with me, or- or your uncle-”

“Uncle?” Cocking his head, Keith’s posture relaxes, crouching in the sand.

“Emperor Zarkon, your sire’s littermate. He would give you a place to stay.”

Keith stares at BleepBloop in his lap, pets his fur. The primate snuggles against him, fingers exploring the fabric of his cloak. “Doesn’t want me,” he finally mutters. “Didn’t want Dad.”

“I don’t think that’s true,” Shiro argues. “But if it is, you can stay with me, or with somebody else… There’s no reason to keep being alone, Keith. You can come with us, be with people, learn so many new things; you'd be safe-”

“Sleep.” It’s desperate, the way Keith says it. Shiro understands. The kit’s probably spent years in a state of exhaustion.

“Yes. Sleep. Feel safe. Eat every day-”

“I hunt!” Keith snaps. Shiro grins, his soldiers snickering at the kit’s indignation. “Better hunter than you!”

“I don’t doubt that. But you wouldn’t have to, or at least not all by yourself.”

The kit stares at BleepBloop, his only friend in the world. “BleepBloop. I need him.”

“You guys have been together a long time, huh?” Shiro smiles. The kit nods.

“He goes with you. You can keep him.” Shiro reaches a hand to the primate, offers it a piece of meat. BleepBloop accepts, and Shiro pats his green, furry head. "And one day, you can return here, if you want, and this can be your home."

“Promise?”

“Of course. I won’t let anyone take him from you.” At an expectant gaze, Shiro says, “I promise.”

“Okay.” Keith gets up, sets another stone on top of the others, on top of his father’s remains. His small fingers rest there. “I’ll come back.”

Shiro doesn’t say anything. The words weren’t meant for him.

…

Keith sits on top of Shiro’s den, waiting for him to come home. BleepBloop snuggles against his side. He watches the sun set over the compound, the village sprawling down the slope of the mountain. He likes this time of day. The people are quiet, and he can just watch. Just breathe.

He's not quite used to being around people. But he can talk to them now, so that's something, at least.

Loose clothes blowing in the evening breeze, Keith draws Shiro's old cloak around him, pulls out his tablet, struggling his way through the next chapter:

Heart hammering in her chest, Rheydon knelt before the towering sentry. Behind them was a sprawling series of floating islands connected by delicate bridges, and an expanse of pink and violet sky.

“Why are you here?” the sentry booms.

“I am here,” the Altean gasped, “to know what is not yet known.”

Keith rubs his head. This story is considerably harder than the children’s stories that he’s been reading since he was little. There are so many new words to struggle with. This one is Altean, translated into Galran, but he rather likes it. He relates to Rheydon’s need ‘to know what is not yet known.’

An odd creature, some kind of luminescing reptile lands beside him, and he snatches it up before BleepBloop can eat it. Keith stares at it, stroking his primate to settle his angry chittering at being denied a snack.

The creature glows a warm yellow along stripes criss-crossing all down it's back, leathery little wings tucked to its belly. Humming curiously, he dangles the reptile by the tail, only for-

The lizard drops, flying away and leaving Keith with only a wriggling bit of flesh. He drops it with a squeal, grimacing with disgust as the tail writhes its way over the curve of the den roof. What. The. Fuck? Another lizard bobs in front of him, and he lets BleepBloop snatch and eat it.

There is so much left to know.

[cyn-00]

Moreid one shot, 4 - "the first one"

Season 6, episode 1 "The longest night" (at the end of the episode, when the team arrives to the couple's house where the unsub is - the "Prince of Darkness", and Morgan alone gets in)

I know I have just posted number 3 but hey, I felt productive, so...enjoy it while it lasts? I'm sure as hell gonna have a drop in creativity soon and won't be posting for like...weeks.

Also, it's a long-ish one, sorry ❤️ (? I guess? Maybe it's better for you). Note: I think I kept the unsub’s lines pretty much consistent with what he actually said in the show - the concept is the same, words might be different

Y'all this fucking episode...there was SO MUCH Moreid Angst potential...wasted. robbed. Ugh.

Read it on AO3

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

The team along with the police arrived to the home of the couple where the unsub was reported to be, after he let out of the car the little girl he had taken as a hostage.

It was melting hot and the sun was blinding, the bulletproof vests and the obvious anxiousness were surely not making any of it any easier.

Reid had been worried for Morgan all day long. After he was the first to find and succor him at detective Spicer's house in Santa Monica, the night before - where he was tied and kicked repeatedly by the unsub - Spencer wasn't sure he could think straight. But Derek was wired like that: if anybody doubted his capability to keep working efficiently even when hurt, they would get yelled at. Of course, Garcia and Reid got yelled at.

And he had only apologized to Garcia so far.

-

Just before getting in all together, they received a phone call. Spencer was too far to hear what it was about, but as soon as the local pd officer passed the phone to Derek, he gathered that the call was from the unsub. And that he wanted Morgan to deal with him personally.

"Wait- what's happening?" he nervously asked Prentiss, even though he knew exactly what was happening. He just wanted someone external to confirm that his theory was correct, and that he wasn't going batshit crazy.

"I think he wants Morgan to get in." Prentiss answered. Reid was so tense he didn't even register what she'd just said, even being the one who asked in the first place.

Morgan made a few steps ahead with Hotch right behind him. Reid's nerves started to untangle.

But then the man stopped and turned around to confront their team leader. Again: Spencer couldn't hear, but from the look on Derek's face, he seemed enraged just as much as confident in his ability to handle what he was walking into. Reid wasn’t equally confident in such thing, though.

Hotch nodded and stepped away.

"He- he's going in alone?? W- why isn't Hotch going with him? He cannot- Morgan! Morgan wait-" Spencer was about to run toward him, but Emily grabbed his arm strongly enough to keep him from getting any farther.

"Reid," she said softly.

"What?! Are we really going to watch him get killed? He's probably not even completely aware, he's hurt and he didn't even rest for a second like we all told him to do- and the MEDICS, too, I- I get that he doesn't wanna listen to me but at leas-"

"Reid, stop. You going in there is not gonna make things any better. You have to trust him." she reasoned, assertive.

Hotch, still a little far from them both, shot him a stern glare and shook his head, as if saying: "Don't. Let him go."

Spencer calmed down just enough to realize what Emily had just said. Was she intending that if he went in it would only get worse because he was the weak and clumsy one? Same old stuff. Was that excuse ever gonna stop being an argument to persuade him not to do things? Not to help people?

Spencer gave her a deadly glance.

"It's not about me. And it's not about trusting him- I don't trust the psychopath killer on a spree that's in there with Morgan, not Morgan. We should all go in with him, I- I don't understand why I'm the only one who cares, we are a team, right?? That's what you guys always tell me when I'm about to do stupid things or- or try to deal alone with matters that are bigger than me. So why are we purposely letting him go alone all of a sudden? That's EXACTLY what the unsub is waiting for." he explained rationally, but rattling on as fast as he did everytime he was convinced about something - which was...always.

He snatched his arm away from Emily's grip before she could reply with something that would only make him more mad, and quickly strode far from everyone, looking down at the ground while stripping off his bulletproof vest with twitchy fingers. He felt breathless, on the verge of crying and, at that point, even useless and on some measure mocked by his very team- his family.

-

When Reid screamed at him, Morgan obviously heard him. But in that moment, the anger he was feeling caused everything else to shift to a lower level of importance. Even his Spencer worrying about him - actually, it was especially the thought of his boyfriend worrying about him that Derek was trying to push back into a hidden corner of his head: he couldn't let the guilt of making him wait helplessly eat at him in that moment.

He kept walking toward the door. He just wanted to get over with that psychopath and run back in the arms of his lover, apologizing and letting him pet his neck while whispering forgiving words in his ear.

-

Once he entered the house, he heard the unsub talking to him.

"Over here, agent." he said.

Morgan slowly and cautiously walked toward the couple's bedroom, from where the disgustingly over-polite voice was coming, with his gun firmly pointed ahead.

When he got in, the two hostages were curled up on themselves on the floor; wrists, ankles and mouths duct-taped. The "Prince of Darkness" was sitting on the bed between them, denying the couple to even find comfort in each other's proximity; a gun in his hand.

And he was crying. Morgan wasn't sure if it was to try and make him pity him, or if he was actually feeling some kind of emotion besides...pure evil, if that can even be defined as an emotion.

"That's it. You have no way out." he said in an unwavering tone, approaching closer.

"You say?" the unsub laughed.

Morgan slowly but carefully lowered his firearm. "I'm not afraid of you."

"But they are." answered the man - though Derek was reluctant to deem him such - pointing at the two with his gun, making them squeak in fear.

"You see," he continued, still crying. "right after I killed my mother, she looked at me - I don't know if I was imagining it - but she looked at me with relief, sort of. Like I finally set her free."

Morgan scowled. He heated up and raised the gun toward him, again.

"That's what you think you were doing to those people? You thought that by killing them you were doing them a FAVOR?" he asked. The uncomfortable realization of knowing the answer to such question already, triggered in Derek's body the urge of vomiting from one second to another.

Both their guns were aiming right at each other’s heads now.

"Naah " the unsub replied; on his face a grimace akin to a smug, lopsided smile. He stood up from the mattress.

"I killed them because I decided they had to die. Just like...God." his self-complacent grin widened.

"You sick bastard." Morgan spat through gritted teeth, fire in his eyes, sweat drooling down his temples.

-

Two gun shots were fired. Everyone outside heard them.

Reid was suddenly like woken up from a dream - one that left him with a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. His heart stopped for a fraction of second only to start pounding rapidly right after; his brain went blank, like static.

It didn't even cross his mind that everyone on the team along with the police were gonna go in anyway: he ran toward the house, forgetting to put on his vest; merely accompanied by his gun and the instinct to rescue the man he would’ve cut off all his limbs for.

Prentiss and Hotch screamed at him with all their breath, but in all honesty he couldn't have cared less. The voices of his two teammates sounded muffled to his ears, as if three layers of thick glass were separating them from him. He had this gut feeling that Derek had taken too much time in there to taste his revenge, and that's exactly what the guy was expecting from him, using it in his favor to hurt him or - more likely - kill him: he had NO intention nor interest in trusting those two again.

Both his thoughts and his steps were suddenly interrupted by someone who jumped in front of him and pressed a palm firmly on his chest: it was Rossi.

"You cannot go in there without vest, kiddo. We're going in."

"Then come with me, but I won't stand here doing nothing! What the hell are you guys waiting for?? I've seen no one moving for fuck 's sake- what, have you given up on him already??" Spencer yelped in response, his voice coming out way less steady than he'd wished to.

Their altercation was cut off by Emily's voice.

"...Reid..."

"What now??" he bit back, annoyed.

She was staring at the front door, pointing at something. Or someone.

Spencer turned around, hoping not to see the unsub, because that would’ve meant he’d got the better out of the two.

His heart stopped - again. His eyes filled up with tears. His bones shuddered.

-

Derek was there, right outside of the door, standing still. His bulletproof vest in one hand, his gun in the other. He looked physically and mentally drained out, breathing heavily as if trying not to pass out on the hardwood floor of the porch; but at the same time relieved that he could feel sensations and emotions again, instead of a continuous state of sheer rage and frustration, all the time: he could feel his eyes prickling with tears, his heart hammering in his ears, his skin cold-sweating from the breeze blowing hot and humid against it.

He was staring at Spencer and Spencer was staring back at him, but neither was making an effort to close the 30 ft distance separating them.

When Spencer saw him taking a few steps in his direction, he stilled. But then Derek froze in spot, as if suddenly realizing that his legs were crumbling under his weight, disabling him from getting more than a few feet ahead; ignoring the fact that he was supposed to be the "strong" one out of the two - out of them all.

JJ was watching from far away. Hotch, Prentiss and Rossi were standing, encircling Reid, like they were all waiting for him to do something, like they wanted to give him the privilege of going toward Morgan first.

Spencer got the hint. He absent-mindedly pulled away David's hand from his shoulder, and finally started walking forward, putting his gun away.

He didn't run. He didn't feel the need to do so: it was like the urge to go and "save" him was gone the moment he came out of the house and everybody saw him, alive, breathing.

Once he was right in front of him, he stared long and deep into his glossy eyes, immobilized. He didn't know what to tell him, and neither did Derek: there was nothing to say, they were feeling too much to think about the right words to speak, to give some sort of hierarchical order to the things they had to get off of their aching chests.

Derek could no longer keep his usual alpha-male show going. He dropped his vest and gun to the ground, falling on his knees with a thud, shedding his first tear since it all started. Nobody on the team had ever seen him that vulnerable - Spencer, on the other hand, was certainly not new to it.

He kneeled down as well, finally getting to wrap his boyfriend in his arms as tight as he could; dwelling on the unfounded, naive and anti-scientific conviction that he could keep his crumbling body whole only with his slim frame, hoping it could act as a glue to stick together the smithereens of Derek’s soul.

Derek hugged him back just as tight, forgetting that the same amount of strength that made him comfortable in Spencer's arms, could actually make it difficult for the skinny man to breathe, squeezed in a body twice as strong - albeit equally tall.

But neither of them cared, in that moment.

He buried his face in Spencer's neck, keeping at bay the volume of his choking sobs and probably soaking wet the collar of his shirt: hiding him from judgemental eyes was a small price Spencer was willing to pay, if it made Derek feel like he was finally allowed to find comfort in him.

Spencer closed his eyes, massaging the back of his neck; uncaring of the sensation of his skin melting from the heat imbuing the air surrounding them, only increased by the warmth of their hug.

-

Derek shifted a little.

"Kid I- I'm so sorry for treating you like crap in the past days..." he finally stuttered against Spencer's skin. He wasn't really expecting an answer: he knew that Spencer - and, to be honest, everyone else on the team - could not but agree on that, and that he’d probably already forgiven him, like they always did when they got mad at each other.

Derek kissed his temple.

"and I love you." he added, once he’d lifted his head just enough to reach Spencer’s ear.

He kissed his earlobe, risking to deafen him with the smacking sound - he could feel the man's muzzle scrunching at that.

"I swear to God I love you, Spencer, I love you so much."

He lowered his face, reclaiming his previous spot on Spencer’s neck, placing kisses on his damp skin - from sweat and tears.

"-love you, I love you, I loveyou-" he whispered in a loop, as if the more he said it, the higher the odds that Spencer’s body could absorb the concept.

Derek himself couldn't believe he was actually saying it out loud - not like that. He knew Spencer knew it, even by just demonstrating it - which was way more important and tangible. But that time he felt like he needed to actually voice it, and the fact that he told him so not that often, convinced Spencer more and more that the way Derek loved him was not the same way he loved the others on the team; each time the three words were repeated, again and again and again, like a gentle but forceful lullaby, wrecking down his wall of uncertainty.

"I know you do." Spencer interrupted Derek’s flowing of whispers, sniffling. "and you know I love you too."

-

Suddenly, he felt some kind of...drop, falling on his shoulder, sinking through the thin cotton of his shirt. He let go of Derek and looked at him: it wasn't the tears.

"Your cut is bleeding again...you should have known better than to just ask for a band-aid." he said, regaining a bit of composure while he cleaned the blood drooling from the other's brow with his thumb, careful not to touch the open scratch.

"It's just a cut." Derek shrugged, wiping off the tears from his face with the back of his hand.

"The ambulance is already here, you should go to the hospital so they can at least put a couple of stitches on it." Spencer insisted, playing the puppy-eye card.

Morgan sighed at how annoyingly and at the same time adorably caring Reid always acted when he was hurt. He resigned to stand up on his feet, prompting at the other to do the same, and they walked together toward one of the two ambulances.

Once they’d stepped out of their timeless, little bubble of emotions and tear-wet kisses and entanglement of limbs and whispered words; they both realized the only ones that had been looking at them for those few minutes were the policemen, mostly confused or even moved, but strangely not mocking: JJ was trying to shoo away some reporters, Hotch was on the phone - supposedly with Strauss or Garcia - Rossi and Prentiss were inside the house. All of them had probably seen the scene but were very good at hiding it.

-

Derek was sitting on the back of the ambulance. The medic hadn't arrived yet. Spencer was standing in front of him, trying to minimize the bleeding with a gauze, and more importantly to prevent any infections.

"I can do it alone, you know?" Derek told him, gazing at him with heart eyes.

"I don't care." Reid responded unbothered, concentrated on the task at hand.

He then removed the gauze from Morgan's cut, letting out a sigh.

"...I- I should stay here, you know? The team might need my help with some stuff." Spencer said in a tone full of resignation and apology, as he feigned to be studying attentively the bloody gauze in one hand, while the other rested on Derek's thigh.

Derek laughed good-heartedly at him. 

"What?? You thought you were coming with me? For some stitches? C'mon now pretty boy. They need you more than I do." He retorted convincingly, but in reality he needed him way more than anyone else did in that moment. He just didn't wanna be a burden.

Spencer slightly frowned at the idea that he wasn't even considering him coming with to the hospital as an option. He didn't argue though, letting the conversation fall in a short silence.

-

"...is anyone around?" Derek asked, lowering his voice.

Spencer squinted his eyes at him, confused. He backed up a little and checked: they were all pretty far away. The rear side of the ambulance, where they were, was facing the other way, so clearly everyone just saw the front of it. He got closer again.

"Uh, no? I think they're all-"

He couldn't finish the sentence because Derek - who perfectly knew no one was around and, even if there was someone, he didn't care - had already pulled him closer by grabbing his arm and pushed his lips against his, all of a sudden. Spencer's waist so thin that his strong arms could've wrapped around it twice.

Spencer was definitely caught off guard - just like most of the times Derek kissed him out of nowhere. One would think he'd got used to it, by that point.

Admittedly, he’d been meaning to kiss him since the second he saw him getting out of the house - which was half an hour before that. He just couldn't bring himself to do it, in front of at least 30 people. But now that he felt like he could, he cupped the back of Derek's neck with his hand, guiding his head as he pleased, in order to draw his mouth deeper into his.

Derek spread his thighs a few inches so that Spencer could come closer - like there was any space left between them.

He stopped all of a sudden, gasping for air, resting his forhead against Spencer's with his eyes still shut; an attempt of closing out whatever other sensation could distract him from relishing a few seconds longer in the sweet taste of Spencer’s mouth, still clinging onto his tongue.

-

"I wanted to do it as soon as I saw you." Derek broke the silence with his confession, distancing himself a little to look into Spencer's eyes; caramel specks brought out by the sunlight. 

"I had the gut feeling you were going to be the first one to look for me when I fired that shot. I knew it was gonna be you." he added, tucking an untamed, brunette curl behind his boyfriend’s ear.

Spencer bit the inside of his cheek, choosing to reply non-verbally by leaning closer and parting his lips again to lay another kiss on his - because, how could he not, after he said those things. 

But they heard footsteps approaching.

-

They quickly got away from each other. Reid's body suddenly remembered how hot it was outside, and that situation surely wasn't helping.

The medic along with Rossi appeared from the side of the ambulance.

"The bleeding stopped...plus, it looks very clean. Good job whoever did it!" she congratulated, after taking a quick look at Morgan's cut. Reid and him exchanged a knowing glance.

"Alright, we can go now, agent Morgan. We still have to stitch it up a little. Sorry if I kept you waiting." she apologized.

Derek kept his eyes on Spencer. 

"No problem." he answered briefly, trying to hide a smirk. He actually wanted to thank her for having given them the time to do...that.

-

While Morgan got inside with the medic and the ambulance left, Rossi stood silently next to Reid, with his hands in his pockets. He had clearly captured all the exchange of looks between the two. And Reid's messy hair, breathing rhythm and rumpled shirt were just a few other clues that they hadn't simply been talking.

"You guys know that we know. Right?" he finally put a halt to the awkward silence.

Spencer’s eyes remained glued to the ground, but widened instantly - as if he shouldn’t have expected such a comment, sooner or later...

"...I- I guess." he answered, not even bothering to make the effort of denying it, aware that it'd be useless. The blush he was trying to contain made him wonder if, maybe, he should've considered that option. Not that he was any good at lying.

Rossi snorted and patted Spencer’s shoulder. "I'm just happy you two have each other. We all are."

Reid finally raised his gaze from the tarmac to look at him with puppy eyes, without saying anything. What was there to say? Morgan and him had both been feeling like it was way more than just friendship since day one, even though they had actually been "dating" only for a year or so. It had to happen, it was clear to everyone on the team BUT them. Talk about being blindly in love.

David left the kid alone with his thoughts, strolling away toward Emily, who - Reid realized just then - had been grinning at them from afar all along, with her arms folded on her chest.

"I'm happy too" Spencer smiled to himself.

[thelighthousemp3]

my blood was once my own (what have you done?)

Summary: In a world where two soulmates feel each other's physical pain, Amy still doesn't really understand the whole soulmates thing, and she's not sure if she really wants to understand it. She knows that she wants to meet her soulmate though, but she just doesn't expect her soulmate to be Jake Peralta (he sure gets hurt a lot, though). 

Notes:   I’ve been working on this soulmate AU for quite some time and I’m really happy with what I’ve managed to write! The title lyrics are from “Anyone Else” by PVRIS. Also, I wanna thank @exploding-snapple for reading this over and giving me advice and feedback on how to improve it and just being awesome in general, and @outofinspo and @cheddar-the-dog for reading this over for me and being so nice and supportive!!! love my mutuals so much :) <3

read on ao3 or down below

When Amy Santiago is merely three years old, she steps on a lego, even though there isn’t a lego in sight. She dismisses it however, because she owns a ton of legos (mostly stolen from her brothers), and as a result, there are almost always a few littering the floor somewhere. So, she simply scrunches up her face and continues walking towards her father’s study, in search of some paper that she could scribble on.

What she doesn’t expect, however, is the feeling of about a million legos pressing into the bottom of both of her feet. Amy howls loudly and drops to the floor, trying to understand why her feet are hurting so bad even though there isn’t anything there (She doesn’t know it, but a young boy named Jake Peralta has just been dared by his best friend to walk across a floor of legos, and Jake Peralta is no coward to back down from a dare). Amy wails for her mother, but instead, her older brother Tony comes flying into the room. And that’s how she finds out about “soulmates.” The concept is far too complicated for Amy to grasp, but nevertheless she tries, showering her parents and her brothers with questions every opportunity she gets.

Pretty soon, though, the whole incident flies out of her head and she forgets about “soulmates”, because she’s three years old and there are more important things for her to be doing (such as filling up Tony’s math workbook with doodles, learning to read, and building complex buildings out of legos).

When she’s four and well versed in the art of reading, Tony, after much persuasion, finally agrees to let Amy come to the library with him. Amy is thrilled. As soon as they get to the library, she goes straight to the “soulmates” section and pulls out a book that looks to be about twice her weight. What she doesn’t expect, however, is the thin paper slicing into her index finger as she delicately turns the pages. Amy yelps in pain, quickly withdrawing her hand from the book and staring and the long red mark. It’s the first time she feels completely aware of her soulmate, ever since the lego incident.

She tells her brother while they’re riding back home on the bus. “I hurt my soulmate today,” she says innocently, peering up at Tony with large brown eyes. “But not on purpose.” Tony assures her that it's "never on purpose," but Amy suddenly realizes that it could be on purpose. She steers clear from harm though, even if her soulmate is constantly getting scratches and bruises here and there. The more she thinks about it, she realizes that she could do anything— stub her toe, nick her finger on a knife— to bring her soulmate to be aware of her.

Five-year-old Amy reveals this to her mother when caught gingerly holding a kitchen knife in one hand. She had been wondering if she should leave a small scratch on the palm of her hand— it’s been a while since her soulmate has gotten hurt (almost three weeks; a broken record!) and even though Amy has been careful to not get hurt, she can’t help but wonder what would happen if she did. Would her soulmate know that she had gotten hurt?

"Amy, you can't deliberately hurt your soulmate," her mother chides. "You're supposed to love your soulmate and try to keep them out of pain." This starts a chorus of "Amy hates her soulmate!" through some of her more annoying brothers (David being the ringleader, of course), and Amy tries to protest it, but they persist. She doesn't mind, though, because her mother winks at her and slips her an extra cookie, which to Amy, is much better than reprimanding her brothers.

A few months later, one of Amy’s older brothers starts dating a girl from his class. When Amy finds out, she eagerly asks, “is she your soulmate?” And it turns out that no, the girl is not his soulmate, and Amy becomes very confused as to why they’re dating then.

“Well,” her brother says, sitting down next to her on the couch, “not everyone finds their soulmate, you know. And someone doesn’t need to be your soulmate for you to love them, because while the whole concept of “soulmates” is cool and all, it doesn’t always work out. So you can date whoever you want, Ames, and I want you to know that you can love whoever the hell you want.” It’s more difficult for Amy to grasp because a) she wants to end up with her soulmate?? and b) but now she can end up with whoever she wants??? “Basically what I’m saying,” her brother continues, “is that you’re in control of your own life, and fuck the universe.”

“Swear jar!” David shouts as he bursts into the room, pointing at the tall jar set at the edge of the mantle. As Amy’s brother rolls his eyes and gets up, Amy is left on the couch, contemplating what he has just said to her. She’s in control of her own life. That’s fine with Amy; she likes to be in control.

“Don’t overthink it okay?” he turns around and says to Amy, right after slipping a dollar into the jar. And so Amy tries to not give it much thought because after all, she’s only five and she still has years to figure her life out.

When Amy’s six years old, there is only one occurrence of her feeling her soulmate’s pressing pain, and it’s a strange occurrence too. Amy’s sitting at her desk in her bedroom, working on summer math problems, when something hits her lungs and sucks all the oxygen out of her. Well, it feels like the oxygen’s been sucked out of her, because it hasn’t really, of course. She’s just feeling whatever’s happening to her soulmate.

But Amy gasps, drawing in air and spluttering as she drops her pencil onto the floor. She manages to scream, once, twice, before her father comes running in. He holds her, telling her “Amy, mija! Breathe! Breathe!” and so Amy does, and it seems hard at first, but she breathes with all of her might, because everything is okay, right? Her dad still insists on taking her to the ER, where they tell her that no, Amy doesn’t have asthma, and no, there is no sign of any damage in her body. It must have been something that her soulmate was feeling.

The next day, the local newspaper has a heading on page two that says “EIGHT YEAR OLD BOY NEARLY DROWNS AND IS SAVED BY LIFEGUARD”. The newspaper doesn’t reveal the boy’s name, but Amy feels a pang in her chest as she reads it and she just knows that it’s her soulmate. She tries getting Tony to take her down to the news office, but he gently tells her to not “push things,” for after all, she’s only six. And after some time, Amy drops it.

Elementary school is fun for Amy. Easy, but fun. She breezes through worksheets and readings and even offers to help around the classroom with grading and organizing. And thus begins the “Amy is hurt” saga. She pokes herself with a sharp colored pencil on the first day, drawing blood. One day, she accidentally nearly staples her finger, and another day she steps on a thumbtack. The number of paper cuts covering her fingers increases as well, and David starts a jar called the “Amy is hurt” jar. The rules are simple: every time one of the Santiago brothers see a scar or a bruise or mark on Amy’s body, they put a coin into the jar. The jar is supposed to go to Amy when she finds her soulmate, but Amy knows that the jar will fill up far before this happens. But no matter how often Amy gets hurt, her soulmate gets hurt way more often, and this telling comes in the form of the constant stubbed toes and the sharp pokes and skinned knees and the occasional nip on the hand by what feels like teeth? Does her soulmate have a pet?

One morning, she’s in the fifth grade and sitting inside and reading a book in the classroom during recess time. Her teacher sits at the desk at the front of the classroom, grading papers. Amy’s enjoying the third Harry Potter book, when she feels a smidge of pain biting at her knee. She tries to ignore it at first, because who knows what her soulmate is up to? But it grows and Amy bites her lip— she lets out a sharp gasp which has her teacher look up with concern.

“Are you okay, Santiago?” he asks, but Amy’s eyes are welling up with tears that are threatening to spill out. Amy manages to nod, but as soon as she looks down at her knees, the tears spill out and give it all away. “Is it your soulmate?” her teacher asks, giving her a knowing look, and Amy nods.

“I’m okay,” she says, “it’ll go away.” And it does, about half an hour later when Amy’s in the middle of English class. Her teacher goes easy on her that day, which she’s thankful for, because Amy doesn’t think that she would have been able to read out loud properly that day. Her knee still stings for a few days after, but she manages to get through it all while cursing her soulmate (she ends up losing about ten dollars to the swear jar and then about ten more after she curses out David for ratting her out).

“I’m gonna find my soulmate before you find yours,” David tells her one weekend when they’re sitting on the couch at home, bored out of their minds. Amy has a geometry workbook out in front of her, but it isn’t appealing to her at the moment, so she’s just staring out of the window. She tries to ignore David and solve a question about circumference in her head, but he says it again.

“Did you hear me? I’m gonna find my soulmate before you, Amy.” David sits down onto the couch next to her and glances over at the workbook. “The answer is 36 pi,” he says, and Amy promptly slams the book shut.

“I know,” she says, seething. “And you’re never gonna find your soulmate before me. You probably don’t even have a soulmate, because no one will ever love you!”

Her parents, unfortunately, walk in right at that second. Amy’s picture is put on the staircase, as David’s picture gloats at her from up on the mantle. So she storms up to her room in a rage, vowing that she’ll find her soulmate before David.

Middle school hits Amy like a whirlwind. Suddenly, the number one conversation during lunch and break is soulmates. One girl claims that she’s already found her soulmate. The others place lunch money bets on who’s going to end up with who. They play truth or dare; the dares always ending up to be something like “go punch Sammy, and we’ll see if Ally feels it.”

Amy hates all of it. She sits in the corner of the cafeteria with her nose in a book, occasionally peering over it to see who’s just been dared to pinch who.

Near the end of sixth grade, one pair is actually proven to be soulmates, causing an uproar in the school. One girl had been dared to punch another guy in the stomach, and across the cafeteria, a different girl doubled over in pain. The kids lead a few more experiments, and prove the two to be actual, real life soulmates.

Amy doesn’t know what to think of this. The two kids literally didn’t know each other before, and they had just found out that they were supposed to be soulmates. How is that supposed to work?! And with that, Amy realizes that soulmates are actually much more complex and trickier than she had realized.

She soars through middle school fast, graduating the eighth grade as valedictorian (which really, had been a very easy feat, as most of the other kids barely knew pre-algebra while Amy was reading over her older brothers’ trigonometry and calculus homework). High school comes as a storm, and the real soulmates drama starts, because there are at least three pairs who are already matched up as soulmates somehow. And then there’s the whole intricate mess of teenage feelings and playing with love, which Amy really hates.

So she ignores most of everything outside of academics, leading the stenographer’s club (which she is self-elected president of) and the after-school study hall. She is soaring high with her grades, which are the best that the high school has seen in a long time (she manages to get 100-120% on most of her finals), and doing her best to just ignore soulmates.

Graduation comes with Amy giving the valedictorian speech, but yet again, soulmates drama ruins everything again. She’s trying to give her speech when one kid trips in the stands, and from across the hall, another kid yells out in pain. Two soulmates found yet again right at the end of high school, in the middle of Amy’s supposed moment.

She’s a little jealous, though, and deep down she’s scared that she’ll never find her soulmate like all of these people are finding theirs. Then she would have to lose the soulmate bet to David and live in shame for like, ever. But she disguises her jealousy as annoyance, and just continues with life.

She’s studying hard at college when her soulmate makes a comeback. The feeling of bruised knuckles and sore abs makes Amy wonder what her soulmate is getting up to, and she finds herself daydreaming of her soulmate in the middle of an art history lecture. Is he an athlete? Does he live across the world from her, or is he situated in New York? What does he look like? What would his voice sound like—

“Santiago, do you know who first introduced the concept of modernism?” Her professor’s voice cuts right through Amy’s daydreams like a sharp knife.

“Ludwig Mies van der Rohe and Le Corbusier in the mid-twentieth century introduced modernism in architectural structure through their glass buildings,” Amy answers with confidence, and her professor moves on after giving her a short nod.

Her soulmate is working out; that much she knows. His legs and arms ache at night, and Amy’s sure that he’s been building some muscles. Why? She doesn’t know, but she hopes to meet him and find out one day.

One night, Amy’s sitting alone in her crappy Brooklyn apartment that she had just gotten for a pretty good rent price. She’s scrolling through her phone and staring at the pictures that David had just sent in the Santiago family group chat— the ones of him living it up and partying after his police training academy graduation ceremony. Amy had been invited to the party, of course, but she had made something up about finishing up some studying for university. She sits on the couch, almost asleep, when a dozen shards of glass seem to rip into her palms. Amy jolts awake and shakes out her hands with a little bit of fear rising up in her, because her soulmate it a real stupid-head and she sure hopes that he hasn’t done anything really stupid just now. A few seconds later, however, the pain dulls and her fingers turn cold, so she ignores the blood throbbing in her hands and falls back asleep on the couch.

She enrolls in the police training academy a month later, mostly because her papa was a great cop and she looks up to him, but also because David’s already gone through with the police training academy and Amy kinda sorta just really wants to beat David in life. Maybe if she can make detective faster than him, then maybe she’ll find her soulmate faster than him. It’s a weird sense of logic, but Amy just goes through with it and enrolls in the academy.

She’s top in her class there, as usual. At least, with the academic portion of training academy. She has to work a little bit harder with the physical part of it, so she ends up going to the gym nearly every night and giving it her all until she’s visibly improved.

Amy learns how to kick down doors and run miles faster than she ever could before. She memorizes all of the ten-codes and legal procedures for different types of crimes. She learns all of the ropes of the legal world, and suddenly she’s graduating from police training academy at the top of her class. (David isn’t invited to the party. The party consists of some of her fellow graduates and her old friends Kylie, and some other people she doesn’t know.)

Beat cop life starts… rough. Amy’s a Latina woman in a precinct full of white dudes, and she’s almost sure that most of them make fun of her— the way she has to be so precise with her paperwork, so organized with her desk, and perhaps taking notes at the morning briefing wasn’t necessary.

One guy sticks out of the rest, though. He’s nice to Amy, helping her sort through her paperwork and solve cases. He tells the others to stop when they start mocking Amy, and Amy just has to crack a smile because maybe being a beat cop isn’t going to be so bad. His name is Teddy, and it’s the first time Amy’s wished that someone in front of her is her soulmate.

He’s most likely not, though, because Amy gets pretty ragged up on the job; he gets pretty ragged up on the job, and besides, somewhere Amy’s soulmate is getting ragged up every other day too. Amy knows that Teddy isn’t her soulmate, because one day, she cuts herself on a shard of glass while they’re scouring the crime scene (she mentally beats herself up for ruining such a valuable piece of evidence) and Teddy doesn’t even wince. Amy even sees his face fall before offering to go get her a bandage or something to wrap her hand up in. Amy’s not sure whether she’s relieved or disappointed that Teddy isn’t her soulmate, but after she cuts her hand, she feels a thick needle poke into her skin and lets out a yelp. Granted, Amy herself had just gotten hurt, but her soulmate is nevertheless… a moron.

Amy climbs through her beat cop years with high spirits. The job is hard work but engaging and fun, and Amy’s stayed long working hours, worked overtime, and she’s just ready to get a promotion.

The promotion doesn’t come easily. Her captain is, well, gross. Amy works exceptionally hard for her promotion, devoting hours to studying for the detective’s exam, but her captain insists that it’s him, pulling some strings around for her to get her a promotion. It doesn’t make Amy feel good, so she files for a transfer almost immediately after ranking detective.

“The Ninety-Ninth Precinct,” she reads aloud, as soon as she receives her transfer papers. Her captain almost immediately pops up.

“Oh, I know the captain of the Nine-Nine. McGintley. You’ll do great there.” His voice makes her feel well, uncomfortable, and Amy tries sliding away from him. However, he persists, telling Amy about all of the wonderful things that could happen if she stayed in this precinct.

She moves to the Nine-Nine a day later. She’s greeted by a man with wildly curly hair— he’s wearing a sweatshirt with the sleeves rolled up as he shakes her hand and welcomes her to the Nine-Nine. Amy pushes her bangs out of her face as another, shorter, man walks up behind them. “I hear wedding bells!” he chirps, and Amy looks uncomfortably up at Detective Jake Peralta, who looks as uncomfortable as she feels.

“That’s Charles,” he says with embarrassment laced into his voice. “Sorry.”

“Uh, no need to apologize,” she says, “do you know where my desk is?”

He leads her to her desk and Amy starts her first day at the Nine-Nine with a high note. Jake introduces her to everyone. Detective Rosa Diaz greets Amy with a scowl as she polishes a large knife. Civilian Administrator Gina Linetti doesn’t even look up from her phone when Amy says hello. Detective Charles Boyle yelps with excitement, and Sergeant Terry Jeffords shakes her hand a little too firmly.

“But where’s the captain…?” Amy asks, looking around.

“Asleep,” Jake says. “We find it best not to bother him. Wanna play fire-extinguisher race, Rosa?”

“Yup,” Rosa says, tossing a fire extinguisher at him. Amy watches from her desk, mortified. The precinct is a hot mess, and Amy isn’t sure how they manage to even get any work done. She tries focusing on a case file, but finds herself distracted by the other detectives, all up to their shenanigans.

Jake had made a first impression on her, seemingly nice. She soon finds out that he isn’t.

As soon as Jake finds out that Amy is the Type-A, always wants to get her work done right, he starts teasing her, and it’s relentless. She ignores him most of the time, but sometimes bites back at his comments with her own comebacks, which she finds she’s getting way better at.

She adjusts to life at the Nine-Nine, and finds herself looking forward to her three alarms ringing every morning. She looks forward to banter with Jake, working silently on cases with Rosa, and listening to all of Terry’s stories about his kids.

Then comes the bet. Jake loves getting a rise out of Amy, so one day, he proposes a bet on who can make the most arrests. Amy decides to agree, much to his surprise. They come to the terms quickly— Amy gets Jake’s car if she wins, because she knows that he loves his car. He says that he’s going to take her on the worst date in history— she doesn’t believe him, because there’s no way that he’s being serious. Nevertheless, she continues doing her best to make arrests and get her numbers to climb higher than Jake’s.

The Nine-Nine is way better than her old precinct, even though Captain McGintley is pretty much incompetent.

That changes quickly. McGintley transfers out of the Nine-Nine, and in transfers Captain Raymond Holt, who is stoic and serious, and Amy’s sure that he’s going to be a wonderful captain. However, she embarrasses herself within the first minute of Holt’s arrival, which she doesn’t know how to get over.

She wants him to be her mentor; to teach her everything he knows, which Jake quickly finds out and teases her a ton for. She ignores it, as usual.

Life at the Nine-Nine under the eye of Captain Raymond Holt turns productive. They’re solving cases left and right (except for Hitchcock and Scully, obviously), and the bet has motivated the entire precinct even more. Everyone starts taking sides— Rosa’s surprisingly on Amy’s side (“Can’t wait to see you car be lit on fire by Santiago,” she had said to Jake), and Charles, ever the loyal friend, takes Jake’s side. No one’s really sure where Gina lies on the bet. Terry refuses to take sides, being the responsible sergeant that he is.

Amy’s 90% sure that she’s going to win. Jake is… annoying and she really wants to show him that she’s the boss— that she can stand up for herself and evade his teasing. Besides, Amy really doesn’t want to go on a date with him. He’s not her soulmate, after all.

Right as she thinks she’s gonna win, Jake brings in more arrests and the bet is closed.

Amy loses. Jake wins. She has to go on the worst date in the world with her not-soulmate.

Right away, it’s terrible. He has her put on an ugly dress that she hates. It doesn’t get any better, either. Or so she thinks. Right as Jake’s about to further make a fool of her, Captain Holt calls upon them to work a case, much to Amy’s immense relief.

And then it’s not so bad. Amy actually valiantly tries to focus on the case they’re working, but she finds her attention gravitating towards Jake more and more. She’s actually having fun on that rooftop on 397 Barton Street, and she finds herself playing one of Jake’s games (throwing up peanuts and catching them in her mouth) and it’s actually fun.

They end up arresting their perp in well time— going undercover and pretending to be a newly-engaged couple, which sails almost too smoothly. She and Jake work together almost too well. It’s actually rather unnerving.

Soon afterward, the Nine-Nine heads off to Tactical Village, something that Amy and nearly everyone else has looked forward to since like forever. Tactical Village is one of the best parts of being a detective, other than the paperwork and like, bringing justice to the city.

Amy is met with a surprise at Tactical Village— Teddy. She hasn’t seen him in ages, other than keeping up with his Facebook and sending the occasional text message that never really seems to hit it off.

Surprisingly, it isn’t awkward. They quiz each other on police codes, and through that, they hit it off pretty well. He even asks her out on a date, which Amy agrees to.

Amy's in a new relationship, and she's enjoying it. And so it doesn't feel very great when Jake Peralta confesses that he has feelings for her right before he goes undercover with the mafia. It leaves Amy confused as ever and wondering if Jake could potentially be her soulmate.

She's been pondering over why she had accepted Teddy's offer of going on a date…  Amy’s romanticized the idea of having a soulmate, and Teddy probably isn’t hers. She knows that, he knows that, so why are they suddenly going out? It’s a well-known fact that not everyone meets their soulmate in life, and sometimes something happens where soulmates don’t work or something.

Amy likes him, even though she ultimately wants to find her soulmate. Teddy’s nice enough, so going on a few dates probably won’t hurt.

And it doesn’t hurt. Teddy’s great. But if Amy's being totally honest with herself, he just isn't what she wants. He's not enough. Amy's not getting any closer to finding her soulmate by playing it safe and dating Teddy.

But she's also very conflicted on whether to break up with him or not. As everyone knows, soulmates can change, and what if Teddy ends up actually being her real soulmate? What if the universe sees them together and decides that they're a better fit?

However, Amy somehow knows that she's done the right thing when she blurts out "I wanna break up" as soon as she sees him carrying a bottled pilsner to their coffee date. It hurts a little bit but ultimately, Amy's made the right decision and she knows it.

By this time, though, Jake dating someone else. Which hurts, especially since Amy's been thinking of Jake's time undercover with the mafia. Sometimes, while Jake had been away, Amy had felt kicks and punches; bruises making her arms and legs sore. A little piece of her mind, deep inside, had wondered if it had been Jake.

She lets it go. Jake's dating Sophia. They might actually be soulmates. Jake hasn't said anything about them not being soulmates.

So Amy concentrates on work, harder than ever before. She pours all of her energy into working and making Captain Holt happy, quitting cigarettes, and finishing crosswords from the 1950s New York Times.

Three weeks later, Jake suddenly finds himself single just when the Nine-Nine is invited to a tactical-terrorist simulation by the Department of Homeland Security. Rosa and Amy have their little bet going on― whoever shoots more terrorists wins. Amy wins, obviously, but shortly after she shoots Rosa, she feels a pang in her own chest.

It feels exactly like a paintball has hit her, even though there's no paint on her torso at all.

Amy stares at Rosa. "I―"

"What?" Rosa glares at her with annoyance. "You just shot me, Santiago."

"Are you my soulmate?"

" What?" Rosa wildly looks around before returning her attention to Amy. "Why would you say that?"

"I― I felt a paintball―" Amy stammers.

Rosa punches her in the shoulder.

"Ow!" Amy jerks away from her. "What was that for?!"

Rosa shrugs. "I didn't feel that. You felt it. I'm not your soulmate, Santiago. But if you felt a paintball…" Rosa raises an eyebrow, "we better find out who else got shot." She stands up, pulling Amy up with her. "I bet it was Jake."

Red rises up into Amy's cheeks. "What? Why would you say that? No, he's not. I bet he wasn't shot. He probably has the whole situation under control. I bet he has Homeland Security trapped right now. Jake wouldn't get shot. Jake's fine," she babbles. Rosa sighs in annoyance and they go out in search for the rest of the Nine-Nine.

Jake had been shot. The paint marks the exact place where Amy had felt it.

Rosa looks at Amy with a questioning stare.

Amy glares at her, warning Rosa to keep her mouth shut. It could've been a coincidence; Jake probably isn't her soulmate. Still suspicion rises up in Amy, no matter how much she tries to keep it to herself.

A week passes by, and Amy knows that she's been acting weird around Jake. He doesn't seem to notice it, and before long, they're going out on a case together.

They're working undercover.

As a couple.

It kinda hurts, every time Amy looks at Jake and grins, pretending that he's Johnny and she's Dora. They're a newly-engaged couple.

The perp's date looks over at them adoringly. "Ohmygosh, are you guys soulmates!?"

"Yup!" Jake says, making eye-contact with Amy.

"Yeah," Amy adds, "I punched him in the shoulder once, and that's how we found out!"

"Oh my god, that's so cute."

"Yup!" Jake and Amy say in unison.

Ten minutes later, they're making out in front of the kitchen to keep their cover from the perp. It's like fireworks light up inside of Amy's head and heart as she pulls Jake deeper into the kiss, and it sort of feels like it's meant to be.

Oh shit, maybe Jake really is meant to be her soulmate.

After the case is over, though, neither of them talk about all of the making-out. Amy does her best to shove the memory to the back of her mind and forget all about it, but no matter how hard she tries, the kiss keeps on popping up in her dreams; haunting her at night.

She's in love with Jake, whether or not he's her soulmate. It fucking hurts.

Two weeks later, Amy gets a text in the Santiago family group chat. Her whole family is meeting up at the Santiago household, for a little family get-together. The invite says "All soulmates welcome!" and it causes a sort-of panic inside of her.

David is gonna be there. Amy's reminded of her bet with him from a while back, when they were kids― that David could probably find his soulmate before Amy could, and Amy has the urge to win against David in everything.

She needs to find her soulmate before the reunion, which is in less than a week.

No matter how much Amy slices her fingers with sharp edges of paper over the next four days, Jake just doesn't look up from his desk. He's not feeling it. He's not her soulmate. Amy is doomed.

But still, Amy needs a date. A fake soulmate. Someone to pretend to be her soulmate and help her win against David, because Amy is not going to let David have this triumph.

And who better to ask to be her fake soulmate than Jake? It would be pretty easy to explain, and Amy's still longing for Jake to be her real soulmate, so one night of pretending couldn't hurt.

So she musters up her courage and finally walks over to Jake when they’re about to leave the bullpen to go home, merely a day before the reunion. She stops him, placing a hand on his arm until he turns around to look at her questioningly.

“Uh, hey,” she fidgets slightly for a moment before confidently looking him in the eye, ”I need a favor.”

Jake looks at her questioningly, arching one eyebrow with interest. “I’m not gonna have sex with you,” he says, grinning from ear to ear as if he’s just won the award for comedian of the year.

Pink spreads across Amy’s cheeks and she looks away for a moment. “No! Gross! I would rather die than—ugh!” She gags in his face before taking a deep breath. “No, I need you to, uh, accompany me somewhere.”

Jake seems to consider it. “You know, that’s gonna come at a price,” he mulls a mischievous smile spreading over his face. Amy sucks in a breath—“Die Hard movie marathon!” Jake announces cheerfully, and Amy releases her breath. A Die Hard movie marathon couldn’t be so bad, could it? And then Jake says, “and you’re bringing the orange soda,” so Amy starts preparing for the longest day of her life.

“Wait, I haven’t even told you where we’re going yet,” Amy grimaces as Jake starts to leave, “I need you to pretend to be my soulmate.”

This stops Jake in his tracks and he turns back around to stare at her indecorously. “Why?”

“It’s really stupid,” Amy starts rambling, “but all of my brothers are going to be in town and I have this one brother—David—who I made a bet with when I was like twelve that I would find my soulmate before he found his. And I’m seeing David tomorrow—I don’t know if he’s found his, but on the offhand chance that he has, well, it’s really important to me to like, beat David.” She looks at Jake hopefully, who stares back at her with doubt.

Amy sighs. “I’ll bring sour candy to the Die Hard marathon,” she says, and Jake immediately brightens.

“I mean, if there’ll be food and the chance to find blackmail material on you, then whatever. I’m in,” Jake says.

Amy grins at him. “Great! Let me just show you the binder—”

“There’s a binder?!” Jake groans.

“I’ll bring three packs of gummy candy,” Amy says hopefully.

“Fine. Deal.”

The rest of the evening goes by with them looking at the binder; coming up with their story and how they were going to prove to David that they were actually soulmates. “We’re keeping it simple. We met on the job, obviously, and figured out that we’re soulmates during a sting operation, when you skinned your knee and I felt it,” Amy says. “No doubt David’s gonna try to prove it for himself, and pinch me or something, so you have to stay close to me and keep an eye out for him so that you can play the part.”

Jake rolls his eyes at all of this. “Boring. Can we get to the fun stuff now? Like, which one of your brothers is the hottest? Also, what if one of your brothers turns out to be my real soulmate? What if David turns out to be my real soulmate? Also, how hot is he?”

“Gross. I mean, you both suck, so you would suit each other.” Amy swats Jake lightly on the shoulder with annoyance. “But no, not happening. I’ll pick you up tomorrow at six. No funny business.”

Funny business happens at six o’clock PM that next day, when Jake emerges from his apartment decked out in an overlarge suit and green-tinted aviator glasses. He balances a top hat in his hand as he bows deeply to Amy. “After you, m’lady,” he says, blowing her a kiss.

Amy closes her eyes for a minute before groaning. “I knew that this was gonna happen,” she mutters, dragging him by the arm and to her car. She opens the trunk and grabs a plastic bag full of clothes, thrusting it in his arms and pointing back towards the apartment building. “Go. Change.”

Jake grins at her sheepishly but leaves, emerging from the building a few minutes later in the fresh clothes that Amy had given him. He looks much nicer, Amy has to admit, and she has to tear her eyes away for a second as he gets into the car.

They get to the Santiago household half an hour later to find cars parked all up the driveway. Amy parks near the side of the road, and the two walk up the steps of the house, arm in arm.

Camila Santiago opens the door. “Oh, Amy!” She pulls her daughter in for a hug before looking up at Jake. “Jake? What are you doing here?”

“Mama, he’s my soulmate.” Amy flashes a grin at her mother, who stands shell-shocked before a smile plasters onto her face.

“Oh my goodness, mija, why didn’t you tell me! How long have you two known?!” She's still staring at Jake with a kind of judgmental look on her face, so Amy sends a glare at her mother.

“It’s very fresh,” Amy says. “We found out a while ago and we’ve been keeping it under the wraps.” Oh, Amy Santiago is an excellent liar.

Jake sheepishly smiles at Camila as she raises an eyebrow at him, and steps aside to let them into the house.

Amy’s immediately shoved into the arms of numerous brothers—Carlos, Michael, Sammy, Tony, David—she can’t keep track of all of them, all who ask her about how she’s doing and how is work and—

“I found my soulmate,” Amy announces, her words directed at David.

David squints at her. “You’re definitely lying,” he decides, and in a panic, Amy pulls Jake forward.

“I am not. This is Jake.” Amy pinches herself in the arm and watches with satisfaction as Jake pretends to yelp. “He feels my pain, and I’ve found my soulmate before you, David. I win.”

“Actually,” David says, “I met someone who I’m pretty sure is my soulmate.”

“Not the same thing as being together with your soulmate,” Amy shoots at him, and he shuts up.

Introducing Jake to her father is a whole different story, because unlike David, Victor Santiago wants to know all of the facts, and he wants to know them now. Amy prays that Jake has the story right in his mind so that he doesn’t mess up and cause suspicion if questioned alone. “He’s a detective, Papa,” Amy says, “You know that. And you’ve met him before.”

Victor Santiago does not approve of Jake Peralta being his daughter’s (fake) soulmate, but it’s soulmates, right? Matters of the universe and the heart, so there’s nothing that Victor can do about it other than to grouse about it to his wife and daughter. “I can’t believe you got someone so dumb as your soulmate, Amy,” he criticizes.

Camila laughs. “I should say the same for myself,” she jokes. “I think that Jake and Amy may actually be a good match.”

“I mean, of course they’re a ‘good’ match if they’re soulmates, ” Victor reasons. “I’m just saying, Camila, not all soulmates end up working out like us.”

“Dad,” Amy cuts in, offended, “I like him. We’re happy.” And she turns around and looks at Jake,--who is immersed in conversation with Carlos Santiago—and a smile spreads over Amy’s face because truly, she is happy to have a partner like Jake who’s always got her back in stakeouts and weird family events. (Maybe, the only reason she’s suppressing her feelings for him is because he’s not actually her soulmate, and it would be unfair to both of their soulmates?)

As soon as Amy walks away from her parents, she’s cornered by David. “Are you and Jake actually even soulmates? You don’t seem to be very much in love,” he accuses, his eyebrows raised at his sister.

“What?” Amy feigns offense. “Like I said, it’s very much fresh—we only just found out—” she fumbles for words, tracking David’s gaze over to Jake, who’s sitting on the couch in between two of her little brothers, animatedly talking about Die Hard.

In a flash, David pinches his nails into Amy’s arm, keeping his eyes on Jake.

“Ouch!” Amy shakes David off in a panic, staring right at Jake.

Jake yelps, and covers the spot on his own arm with the palm of his hand. He looks up and meets Amy’s eyes, flashing her a bright grin. As soon as David looks away in defeat, Jake gives Amy a thumbs up.

The rest of the night seems to go by pretty smoothly, much to Amy’s relief.

Near midnight, Tony comes over, holding something behind his back. He sits down on the couch next to Amy, and it’s just the two of them. Amy relaxes a little bit, tearing her paranoid gaze away from Jake and allowing herself to face her brother with undivided attention.

Out of all of her brothers, Amy’s missed Tony probably the most. Sitting down and talking to him— just the two of them— it knocks a wave of nostalgia over her heart as Tony clears his throat.

“So, Ames,” he says, “you and Jake, huh?”

Amy fidgets a little bit. She doesn’t feel great lying to Tony, but she nods. “Uh, yeah! I know right, it’s crazy.”

“Congrats on finding your soulmate.” He pulls out a large jar from behind his back and presents it to Amy. There’s a little tape label on the jar; written in wobbly black sharpie letters, it says, ‘AMY IS HURT’. Amy recognizes David’s adolescent scrawl and the memory of the jar washes over her until she feels a little bit faint. It’s probably the nicest thing that David’s ever done for her.

“It’s probably not a lot of money, but—”

Amy knocks Tony over into a hug. She can feel her eyes welling up, and the fact that Jake isn’t really her soulmate is making her feel incredibly terrible.

“Are you crying?” Tony looks at Amy indecorously. “Ames, it’s not really that big of a deal, you know,” he says, and Amy just wishes that she could tell him. She wants to tell Tony so bad but she keeps her mouth shut, for the sake of keeping hers and Jake’s covers.

And then a thought suddenly occurs to her— what if she ends up meeting her actual soulmate later on? Soulmates can change— she’s definitely heard of it happening— but it would be a lot to explain to the family.  

She really just wants Jake to be her soulmate. It's all Amy wants.

Two nights later, Amy shows up at Jake's doorstep, holding a plastic bag full of packets of gummy candy. He opens it a minute later, wearing a t-shirt and sweatpants. His eyes light up as soon as he sees the candy in Amy's arms, and he grabs the bag from her ecstatically.

"I have the DVDs ready," he grins, ripping open a bag of sour gummy worms.

Amy tries not to stare at his bare arms so much as he leads her into the living area. The couch is covered in soft blankets, and the whole place looks cozy.

Amy might actually be looking forward to this Die Hard movie marathon.

Jake sets a bowl of popcorn on the coffee table in front as he starts the movie and sits down on the couch. Amy stiffly sits down beside him, not wanting to get too close. She's still reeling from all of the leftover feelings from the other night― wishing that Jake could be her real soulmate because she's still kinda in love with him. Like, badly.

"I'm not gonna bite," Jake laughs, settling closer to her on the couch.

Amy nearly flinches. "Title of your sextape."

"Okay, I'll admit, that was a good one," Jake says as the movie begins. The sextape joke kinda seems to relax Amy, and she takes a deep breath as she prepares herself for endless hours of watching Die Hard.

It isn't that bad, mainly because Amy's not really focused on the movie. She's more focused on Jake, who puts an arm around her shoulder about halfway through the movie. It sends a shiver running down Amy's spine, and she looks up at him.

"What?" he asks, "is that okay?"

Amy nods, and returns her attention back to the movie.

She can't believe she's so attracted to the guy who's just eaten four packets of sour candy and is currently shouting at the screen as John McClane does something "cool" and "heroic."

Amy reaches for the bowl of popcorn and pulls it into her lap. She picks out the more buttery ones, and apparently, Jake has the same idea, because their hands meet in the middle of the popcorn bowl. Amy fumbles with the popcorn and ends up dropping the entire bowl on the floor.

"Amy!"

"Sorry!"

And suddenly, both of them are crawling on their hands and knees, picking up stray pieces of popcorn off the floor.

It happens in a blur: Jake bangs his shoulder into the coffee table. Pain ricochets up into Amy's shoulder, and the popcorn spills out of her hands and back onto the floor where she sits in shock.

"Ames. Ames." Jake's voice is faint and far away. She doesn't know what's happening. And then the flashbacks start.

The headline, from when she was six. " EIGHT YEAR OLD BOY NEARLY DROWNS AND IS SAVED BY LIFEGUARD." And Jake, in the break room, years later. "I almost drowned when I was eight." How could Amy not put two and two together?!

That wasn't the only hint that had been dropped right in front of Amy's nose over the years. There was so much more. The bruises and injuries when Jake went undercover with the mafia, the paintball at the tactical-terrorist simulation, and literally everything else.

She's a terrible detective.

"Amy. Amy!" Jake's voice brings her back to reality, and Amy feels a tear dripping down her cheek. "Look, I know that this may not seem good, and I'm so sorry." Jake's voice is controlled and calming. Amy feels her breathing return to normal as she gets over the initial shock.

"I―" Jake continues, "I had my suspicions about this. I did. But I found out found out at the Santiago family reunion. You remember when David pinched you and I was literally across the room?" Amy nods, so Jake continues. "I actually felt that. It was genuine. That's when I figured out that… well, we're soulmates, Amy."

"I'm in love with you," Amy blurt out, and instantly, she wraps her arms around his neck and pulls him closer. He's practically on top of her now, and they're sitting on the floor and kissing against the couch.

It's the best thing that's ever happened to Amy, even better than being named valedictorian for about ten consecutive years. It's better than her mother's home-cooked meals, better than new binder tabs, better than everything and anything. It's so warm and nice and Amy's never been more in love.

Jake's hand is cupping one side of her face when they pull away. He tenderly strokes her cheeks and they make eye contact. Amy takes a deep breath.

"I'm glad you're my soulmate," she finally says after waiting a minute.

"Me too."

And just like that, they're officially together. Jake and Amy.

When they tell the squad, Charles shouts out, "called it!" and immediately faints from overexcitement.

"I told you so," Rosa smirks at Amy before fist-bumping Jake. Despite herself, Amy grins.

Captain Holt walks up to them. "I just wanted to say…" he looks at Amy for a brief moment, "I am very happy for both of you. I am also very proud of you."

Amy's grinning wider than ever. Jake takes the opportunity to speak.

"That you, Captain. But you're gonna wanna be careful with the compliments. Amy here has a praise kink."

Amy punches Jake in the arm. She immediately regrets it, though, because the pain just shoots right back into her own arm.

Four weeks pass and Jake and Amy are doing great. They're happy together, everything is going wonderful, and Amy's new life calendar is going exactly according to plan.

Unfortunately, Jake going into witness protection in Florida is not on Amy's life calendar, but it happens anyway. It sucks because he's so far away, yet so close because Amy can feel it every time he punches a wall out of frustration, every time he kicks furniture around and screams at the top of his lungs.

She's so relieved when the Nine-Nine road trips down to Florida to bail out Jake and Captain Holt because all she wants is to see Jake again.

But when she sees him, they're so out of sync and everything feels so wrong. Amy loves Jake, and she knows he loves her too, but whatever's happening is not working. All of that time apart hadn't been amazing.

Before long, they go out to take Jimmy "The Butcher" Figgis's team at the arcade. Everything ends up going pretty well, up until the part where Jimmy Figgis takes Jake at gunpoint. Amy knows what she has to do; she's just not sure if Jake's okay with it until he gives her the short "go ahead" nod.

And Amy knows that they're both about to be in excruciating pain, but she pulls the trigger and lets a bullet fly into Jake's leg.

Everything is a blur after that. Amy's in crippling pain, but she surges forward towards Jake until the squad is out to help. They get Jake to an ambulance, and Amy crumples onto the floor, holding her leg because it's exactly what's Jake's going through.

Rosa pulls her up and effortlessly carries her to the ambulance, where they're taking care of Jake. She grips his hand tightly as they work through the gunshot pain together, once more back in sync.

Life is nice and breezy, right up until Jake and Rosa are falsely convicted for Melanie Hawkin's bank robberies and sent to prison. The sentence is fifteen years, and Amy knows she's going to wait for Jake― after all, he is her soulmate― but Amy's not sure how she's going to make it through without him being constantly at her side.

She busies herself with working on his and Rosa's case, going through the case files hundreds of times over and over again until she finds herself sleeping at her desk late at night when everyone, even Boyle, has already gone home.

Amy doesn’t want to go home. Home is supposed to be with Jake, but Jake is in a prison facility somewhere far away. Amy knows that if she goes home to their apartment, she’s just going to end up missing him even more.

What's even worse is that Amy can feel it every single time Jake gets into a prison fight, and it sucks. She's not particularly concerned about herself feeling Jake's pain; she's more concerned about the fact that Jake is getting hurt and he's not safe.  

The nightmares hurt just as much. She dreams of him being taken away to the prison over and over again, waking each morning with the hope that Jake can't feel her emotional pain, because he's probably already worried as it is.

They make a breakthrough in the case when they finally figure out where Melanie Hawkins had been hiding the diamonds, and it's as if the weight of the whole world has been lifted off of Amy's shoulders because she can finally see Jake again.

Prison has changed Jake. Amy can tell. He flinches when she hugs him for the first time after they reunite. Amy takes a deep breath and buries her face in his shoulder and wishes that she could somehow feel Jake's emotional pain and just take it all away.

Amy wants to make things better for him, but she just doesn't know how. He's trying to act normal around her; she can tell. The way he brushes his teeth at night and hops into his pajamas and then into bed may seem normal, but there's a silence that lies underneath all of it that turns their domestic life mesmerizingly eery. They swing back into their routine until everything just feels like a robotic cycle, and Amy just can't take it anymore.

So when the Halloween Heist comes around, Amy doesn't expect Jake to be up and energetic about it. However, he's bouncing off the walls with energy and fierce competitiveness. It spurs Amy on to see Jake like this, so she immerses herself in the competition as well. It's nice to see Jake actually passionate about something, and it feels like they're clicking back together, so Amy vows to get that cummerbund in any way that she can.

Jake proposing to her is the last thing Amy expects when she thinks that she's sealed the win. It turns her whole heart into a strange whirlwind of love for him because as soon as she says yes and he puts the ring onto her finger, the whole world seems alright again.

They're together. They're okay. They're soulmates, and they're going to get married and everything is going to be okay. It's everything Amy wants― for life to be just the two of them against the world.

She wants to spend the rest of her life with Jake. Amy loves him so much and she knows that she's willing to feel his pain in the hardest of times because whatever happens, they're going to be in it together.

Notes: thank you and i hope you liked it! there IS a partner fic to this, set in the same universe, but it’s just dianetti instead of peraltiago! link: i’ll carry your pain (along with my own)

[rainandhotchocolate]

Tension - Part 4

A/N I know this takes me ages to write but I just love the concept so much that I keep changing things lelel but I promise this is a long chapter to make up for my slowness! Also, I feel like this is going to turn into a hella long-form fic so get keen for some slow burn

Enjoy! 

Tension (3.2k, Slytherin!Remus)

Y/N hated to admit it, but the weeks leading up to their group presentation were some of the most fun she’d had in her time in Hogwarts. Sirius and herself met up every Monday after dinner, and Sirius had started to wait for her at the entrance to the Great Hall, giving her overexaggerated exasperated looks as she ate, according to him, ‘like a flobberworm who couldn’t swallow so they have to chew 100 times before they can finish a meal’.

Some evenings they spent in the library, looking up tracking spells and how previous mazoologists had kept track of all of their pets or experiments. Y/N had discovered a number of mazoologists who had been secretly performing spells to make them change appearance or mate with creatures they would normally avoid at all costs. Other times they would join Kettleburn in the grounds, using the time to test how the animals he kept reacted to certain spells, or see if he had any experiments himself, as Y/N had gotten increasingly suspicious of anyone who took care of animals since reading about the cruelty they faced regularly across wizarding history.

Remus and James had been working on the presentation side of things, and by the sounds of the mischievous whispers Y/N always saw in the large empty classroom on the way to the Slytherin common room on her way back from Quidditch practice. They always seemed to go quiet when she passed, grinning only when they realised who it was before continuing to dabble at a large piece of parchment on the table in front of them.

Tonight, was the first night Y/N had gotten to see it, as James always took it back to his room for safekeeping. Sirius was standing at the corner of the doorway to the Great Hall, as per usual, smiling nonchalantly at her, as if the idea that they were meeting up and hanging out wasn’t something they would have scoffed at a month ago.

“Meal not as good this fine evening?” Sirius turned and matched Y/N’s pace as they head towards the front doors leading into the grounds. Y/N had pulled on a large green coat and matching scarf and beanie to cover from the icy wind that had already begun weaselling its way into the school corridors. Sirius had only a leather jacket and fingerless gloves, something Y/N had long-since stopped bringing up because of the same irritating answer he would give her, ‘what can I say? I’m just hot-blooded’.

“It was good… as per usual, why?” Y/N breathed a laugh, feeling the cool air suck into her lungs as they pushed open the grand front door and walked out into the wintery courtyard. Snow was yet to stay on the grounds, and instead had become slush, melting as it hit their noses and beanie-clad heads and gathering in the small dips between hills and cracks in the pavement.

“You ate in about 3 seconds flat, I almost had to choke to get to the door first.”

“I didn’t realise it was a race,” Y/N snorted, pulling the coat tighter around her. This kind of cold was the worst, Y/N always thought, the ice-cold breeze always cut through her clothes and the snow would drip down her skirts and into her boots.

“It’s always a race, I’ve got to arrive first to compose myself into the perfect ‘I was just waiting here for you’ look.” Sirius was facing her, smiling widely as if pushing her to react to his cockiness. Y/N didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.

“So you’ve got the parchment?”

Sirius sighed loudly, rolling his eyes at her.

“Yes, of course, I do, wouldn’t forget the one thing we actually needed today.” Sirius pulled the edge out of his pocket to show her proof. “Have you seen it yet?”

“No,” Y/N faced him now, confused at his now curious tone, “Haven’t you?”

“Nope, James has been irritatingly secretive about the whole damn thing,” Sirius replied, and Y/N was sure she could sense some frustration in his tone. They moved through the large awning and into the grounds towards Hagrid’s hut and the large pumpkin patch where Kettleburn liked to keep his pets, mostly because Hagrid usually would sneak over and take care of them when he wasn’t there. 

They hadn’t told Kettleburn about this visit, mostly because the curfew hours always got earlier and earlier once the sun started to set around 5pm, and also because he never seemed to understand that they were trying to get a project done and would instead let creatures loose to let them ‘have a look’, resulting in an hour of finding lost puffskiens.

As they reached the hill overlooking the Forbidden Forest, they could see Hagrid tending to some of the caged animals, looking around suspiciously to see if anyone was around so he could let some loose for the evening. He caught Sirius’ eye, who seemed to grin at him and wave wildly. Hagrid froze momentarily, squinting up at the two of them trudging down the hill before shaking his head and waving back.

“Do you know Hagrid?” Y/N frowned, she’d never really had much of a conversation with him passed the occasional nod in the hallways, and granted that was mostly because he was a little intimidating to say the least.

“You don’t?” Sirius looked at her as if this was a ludicrous concept, “He’s the best, knows all the school gossip, though he doesn’t always mean to share it.”

Sirius winked at Y/N, bounding down the hill in front of her so that he could greet Hagrid with a tight hug, Hagrid hitting him a few times on the back. Y/N wondered if he might have moved some of Sirius’ vertebra but he seemed fine, stepping backwards and beginning to chat animatedly.

“…and anyway, he’s doing pretty well, not that we would tell me that, but I guess it’s going to be extra weird this Christmas since it’s the first since –“ Sirius cut himself off as Y/N joined them, plastering a smile on her face as she looked up at Hagrid’s bushy mane of a beard.

“Don’t stop talking on my behalf,” Y/N said, annoyed at how her voice shook a little bit when faced with the stern-looking Hagrid, looming above her. Hagrid’s face suddenly split into a kind smile, crooking his head to the side.

“You’re Lucius sister, right? Graduated last year? I’ve heard lots about you, Y/N,” He continued to smile, but Y/N felt her stomach twist as she was compared, as usual, to her older and annoyingly talented brother. He was definitely going to graduate with top grades in all of this NEWTs and was set to start at the Ministry at the start of July.

“All good things I hope,” Y/N muttered her standard reply, feeling a little put out.

“Bit of a mix,” Hagrid winked at her, “better sense of humour than that stern brother of yours, never saw him crack a smile at dinner.”

“Oh, yeah, he can come across as very serious,” Y/N took a second to reply, a little confused at this observation from a staff member. Most of them sang their praises, hoping that she would turn out exactly like him. Y/N hated the slightly disappointed face whenever she giggled audibly to something Remus had said to her in class, or her potion hissed a little too loudly for a calming draught.

“Wasn’t the friendliest bloke either, always caught him torturing the poor first years in Hufflepuff, I hope you aren’t catching any of those sibling traits,” Hagrid eyed her, before turning back to Sirius, “but I know this one couldn’t be hanging around with any of the sorts, even if he does like a prank every so often.”

Hagrid looked down at Sirius with such a warm smile that Y/N couldn’t help but stare up at him. She didn’t really know what she’d expected, but certainly not his extremely kind demeanour and the way he looked at Sirius like he was his own child.

“Come on, I’ll make ya some tea, I just got some new leaves from the forest, the centaurs have been using ‘em for star-gazing but it’ll just make you nice and warm,” Hagrid bustled them towards his hut which Y/N had always thought must be way too small for someone as large as Hagrid, and as Sirius pushed open the door to the hut and let her inside Y/N’s suspicions were confirmed. 

The hut was about as tall as it was wide, with a small kitchen and chair to the right of the room, a fireplace on the opposite side of the room where a small table sat surrounded by four wooden chairs.

“It’s a bit small, but it’s enough for me, you know,” Hagrid looked a little embarrassed, watching Y/N look around the single room, “I’ll er, make some tea.”

“It’s wonderful, Hagrid,” Y/N smiled at him, not wanting to make him think that she was criticizing it internally, “very cosy.”

Hagrid turned and beamed at her, his entire face lighting up, before busying himself with tea. Y/N went to sit down at the table, jumping back off her chair when something wet trickled down her leg.

“What the – “ She yelped ducking her head under the table as Sirius sniggered at her reaction.

“Oh sorry, that’s Fang! He likes hidin’ under there, stop drooling on the guests you doof,” Hagrid pushed a large slobbering dog out from under the table, “He’s really friendly, a bit of a scaredy-cat, but he loves a good scratch.”

As if to illustrate his point, Hagrid gave Fang a pat on the head and Fang almost immediately dropped to the floor, looking up at Hagrid in excitement. Sirius was still sniggering lightly in the corner and Y/N shot him a glare.

“Come on, we have work to do.” Y/N huffed, sitting down opposite Sirius and eyeing him expectantly. He said nothing, still grinning brashly, and pulled out the large piece of parchment Y/N had seen Remus and James hovering over for weeks. A flash of anticipation built in the pit of Y/N’s stomach as he unravelled it, leaning in to get a better look at what was on the page. There were long lines and words written across in Remus’ ridiculously neat handwriting, swirling across the page. It took a moment for Y/N and Sirius to realise what it was.

“It’s a map!” Sirius realised first, turning it around so it was facing the right way for where they were on the grounds.

“Of the Hogwarts grounds.” Y/N continued, turning her head so she could read the tiny words that were hovering along the hills Remus and James had drawn that said ‘Hagrid’s Hut’.

“This is amazing!” Sirius’ grey eyes were twinkling as he traced the lines with his finger, finding all the sections of the grounds and the Forbidden Forest.

“How is this much of the Forbidden Forest mapped out? They didn’t go out there did they?”

“Didn’t need to I expect,” Sirius’ eyes had lifted to meet hers, a smirk twitching on his face, “James and I have been out there enough times.”

“Enough to map out ¾’s of the forest?” Y/N stared at him a little incredulously, “How are you not yet dead.”

“The very same question I ask myself every time I drag them out of there,” Hagrid shook his head as he sat down at the table, placing two very large mugs of tea in front of them.

“James keeps track of everywhere we go,” Sirius shrugged, somehow looking both smug and unconcerned, “And I’m in charge of protection.”

“Protection?” Y/N felt her gut squirm at the idea of the two boys strolling through the forest, only one of them bothering to keep watch for anything dangerous wandering around with them. 

Y/N knew that there was something very fascinating about the Forbidden forest. An area that hardly anyone really knew about, except perhaps Hagrid, but not many people bothered to ask him either. From her very first year, older students had told Y/N stories about the creatures who lived in there, great centaurs and glittering unicorns, and the more deadly acromantula and even werewolves.

The latter was technically untrue, given that Remus was meant to stay in the shrieking shack, but with Y/N’s help calming him down they had roamed the grounds and the edge of the forest. Y/N had never considered that two boys would have potentially been roaming the forest at the same time.

“Well, we all know there’s something prowling the grounds – “ Y/N gave him a strong kick under the table and he groaned, hissing at her. Hagrid looked equally as interested to change the subject.

“So this map, eh, is it just of the grounds?”

“Yeah, I think so,” Y/N looked over it again, “It seems to end at the edge of the castle where the entrance is.”

Y/N leaned closer to the parchment; eyes narrowed. There was something odd about the way the castle was structured, something she couldn’t quite put her finger on…

“Why are there so many entrances to the castle,” Y/N spoke slowly, looking up at Sirius who was already watching her eagerly.

“I’ll show you later,” He mouthed, nodding to Hagrid who was rolling his eyes at Fang as he sat next to him, slobbering on his leg.

“I – “ Y/N tried to question him further but Sirius interrupted her almost immediately.

“We need to test the tracking spell on some of the animals, to see if we can print them onto the map,” Sirius spoke louder, staring pointedly at Y/N who was still watching him, confused.

“Uh, yes, right, ok, well let’s start with the flobberworms outside shall we?” Y/N turned to Hagrid, taking a sip of the tea, “Sorry for barging in and then leaving straight away, thanks for the tea.”

“No bother! Come by whenever I’m always glad to have company,” He gave her a friendly smile and turned to Sirius, “And no mischief from you, I had to spend an hour cleaning up that bubotuber puss from the Herbology greenhouses.

Sirius looked a little guilty, an expression Y/N had never seen on his face except for when he could be spotted at pureblood parties being hissed at by his mother. It was a little satisfying to see it on his face at school, where he seemed perpetually aloof.

“I don’t want to promise you anything I can't keep, Hagrid! But I do promise to avoid anything that will involve you.” He winked at Hagrid who shook his head, but Y/N saw that he was still smiling brightly at him.

“Alright, off with you, and best be back to the castle in the next halfa – Dumbledore won’t be happy if you’re caught breaking curfew.”

“James and I will come see you before the break,” Sirius smiled up at him, a warm, kind sort of smile that made Y/N’s heart do small acrobatics in her chest. Stop it, you absolute fool.

“You’d better, I’ve gotta give you your Christmas presents,” Hagrid gave him a hug and waved them off as they made their way out into the grounds once more.

They spent the better part of an hour placing spells on the flubberworms outside, testing to see if they would show up on the map. After a few attempts, they began to pop up in the right places, but their position wouldn’t change on the map when Sirius hovered them over towards the pumpkin patch. Eventually, Y/N gave a little excited yelp that she sort of wished she’d contained.

“What?” Sirius looked immediately concerned, rushing over to her.

“No, no, it’s working!” Y/N was staring down at the map, watching as the flobberworms moved extremely slowly across the page, a little title popping up above them that said ‘flobberworm’.

“No way,” Sirius reached her, standing behind her so that he could lean over her shoulder and watch the map as well, breaking into a smile as he saw them move as well, “We fucking did it.”

Y/N and Sirius stood there momentarily transfixed by the map, and it took a few moments before Y/N realised she had leaned against him slightly, his arm looped around her shoulder so he could see over her. His breath tickled her neck and brought her into reality, and she jumped forward, clearing her throat.

“We, uh, should go back up to the castle, it’s getting dark,” Y/N turned to face him, barely seeing him in the fading light.

“Yeah, jeez, didn’t realise how late it was.” Sirius held his hand out, and Y/N froze, panic washing over her as she wondered why he wanted to grab her hand, “The map?”

“Oh right, yeah, of course,” Y/N let out an easy laugh, covering up the huge sigh of relief that came from holding her breath. Sirius gave her a funny look but didn’t question her further, nodding towards the castle. 

They walked in silence, Y/N berating herself for acting like such a prat, and avoiding standing in any sludge that had come from the icy rain and fallen leaves. Y/N shook off her coat and scarf once they had reached the Great Hall and a rush of warm air fell upon them.

“So, I’ll see you on Saturday then?” Sirius and Y/N had reached the grand staircase, where Sirius would go up to the Gryffindor tower and Y/N would go downstairs towards the dungeons.

“Yeah, we are nearly done now aren’t we,” Y/N kept the tone light, but felt a little pang at the thought of their little sessions ending. There was something nice about the forced nature of it like they didn’t need to bother to organise anything or stress about talking points, they always had a reason to be there, together.

“Yeah I guess we are,” Sirius seemed more awkward than usual, rubbing a hand through his perfectly messy black curls, “Sleep well.”

“You too.” For a moment Y/N thought Sirius might lean in and hug her, but he clearly thought against it and gave her a quick nod, turning on his heel and walking away. Y/N followed suit, not looking back towards the Great Hall as she descended towards the Slytherin common rooms. Shut up you piece of shit brain she growled internally as thoughts about the evening began swirling around, a boy gives you an ounce of attention and you’re ready to jump off Astrology tower for him.

She entered the common room in a huff, not noticing when Remus called out her name.

“Oi, Y/N,” Remus cut her off, standing directly in front of her so that she had to stop suddenly and look up at him, “What did he do?”

“What? Nothing, I’m fine,” Y/N said, startled to see him.

“You look like you could punch something.”

“That’s my normal demeanour.”

“More than usual,” Remus laughed, “Promise you’re ok?”

“I promise, just tired,” Y/N faked a smile, “I’ll meet you downstairs for breakfast, I’m going to head to bed.”

“Ok,” Remus looked suspicious, but let her pass and continue to the girls’ dorm room. As Y/N got ready for bed and slid under the covers, her mind began to wander, the feeling of strong arms wrapped around her waist swaying her off to sleep.

Taglist:  @averytruerayofsunshine @siriuslyjanhvi @blushingskywalker @blackpinkdolan @thebabblingbookworm @cherrie511 @imlukesnirvana​ @avengersassemblee​ @maraudersandco​ @sly-vixen-up2nogood​ @katbernoulli @sirius-lysad​ @evyiione​ @minerva26love​ @aikeia​ @gollyderek​ @greatwombatblaze​  @songforhema​  @your-typical-giggle @myownviperroom

Tension taglist:  @desideriaenigma  @laue-bb  @fk12b @slytherpuffgal   @fairtaldes @j-brielmalfoy @your-typical-giggle @davincibrocode  @sleepingalaska  

[aire101]

Ferrum Intro

My brain absolutely, positively refuses to focus on romance atm, which means I have made no progress on my WIP and instead my brain ended up producing this concept which I will probably continue at least until I get it out of my system.  So here’s the beginning of a post-Endgame MCU/SAO Irondad fic that I went online to read, discovered it didn’t exist yet, and so could NOT GET OUT OF MY DAMN HEAD.

-------

It had been a long day.

Then again, every day seemed like a long one lately.

It had been a relatively beautiful November day for New York City, and with the approaching holidays Peter was starting to see the usual uptick in petty crime begin this season. Within his five hour patrol he had helped eight lost tourists, found one lost pet, caught two armed burglars and tied up a ridiculous number of petty thieves. Nothing too problematic, just another day in the life of our friendly neighborhood Spider-man.

Peter sat crouched on a roof looking over the newest Iron Man mural to pop up, this time right on the edge between Queens and Brooklyn. There were several around town already, but this one was especially heart-wrenching. Most were either of the armor mid-action or of Mr. Stark in his trademark press look. But this one was different in the best and worst way.

In this art, Mr. Stark was still in his armor, but the helmet was retracted, allowing the viewer to see the blood crusted on his face, the lines of worry even deeper than they were before everything had gone to hell. There weren’t many pictures of Mr. Stark from the five year period now known as the Blip, but in the ones there were Peter knew he had looked like this— tired and worn in a way Peter had never seen, but could well understand. All in all, it looked uncannily similar to the last time Peter had seen him. When—

Anyway—

And on the shoulders of this mural’s Tony Stark rested an enormous orb holding dozens of galaxies spiraling around a central point— a tiny arc reactor in the shape of a heart.

There was still a little while before he would be expected at Ned’s tonight, but the more he tried to convince himself to hit the streets again, the heavier his limbs felt.

He couldn’t do it. Not like this. Experience told him it was a recipe for disaster, likely to get himself or someone else badly hurt. Himself he could handle, someone else… his conscience couldn’t take another body added to its count right now. Besides, he had promised Ned he’d be there tonight.

Peter sighed and swung away from his rooftop perch to head back towards Ned’s, not sparing the art a backwards glance.

No matter how good it was, no reproduction could ever duplicate what he had lost.

----------

“Whoa, you’re early,” said Ned with a mild tone of shock. Which honestly… was probably fair. “I wasn’t expecting you for at least another thirty minutes.”

“Yeah, I decided to call it a night early. It was actually pretty quiet tonight anyway. Didn’t want to get too wrung out on the web considering we have plans tonight,” said Peter as he stepped into the Leeds’ apartment, slipping off his shoes and hanging his coat on the rack. “Where is everyone?”

“Dad has to work tonight, and mom and Angelica went to Laser Bounce earlier, but they should be back before too long. I stayed home to finish some stuff up before the launch tonight. Plus, I wasn’t sure when you’d be getting here, so…”

“Sorry, I should have messaged earlier.”

“You’re alright man. Like I said, I had some stuff to wrap up. I plan to be in-game as much as possible tomorrow,” said Ned as they moved into his bedroom.

“You sure you don’t mind me getting the first run tonight? They might have some secret opening event planned for the first few hours…” asked Peter.

“I am absolutely positive. I am going to have plenty of opportunities to lose unhealthy amounts of sleep to this game. Besides, between the two of us I think you need the break more than me.  On a related note— you look terrible man. Have you been sleeping at all?”

“I sleep,” said Peter defensively. “I don’t really need much though, you know?”

“Physically, sure. Mentally? You’re still just as human as the rest of us Peter. Have you talked to May about it? Or Happy?”

“Can we please drop this? It’s just been a long day, alright?”

“What happened? I thought you said it was mostly quiet?” asked Ned, confused.

“I meant it was quiet for New York, I was still busy pretty much all evening,” said Peter, falling backwards onto Ned’s bed.

Ned sat down at his computer, spinning around to face Peter. “Fine, but I’m definitely going to harass you later, and you better actually sleep after we trade off in a few hours. Anyway, I am SO PSYCHED or this! God I hope its worth all the hype.”

“I can’t imagine it being a flop. The tech behind it is revolutionary, and the head developer has been working on the game for like a decade,” said Peter, as he scrolled through the GameSpot special coverage from that day.

“Wasn’t SI contracted to consult on it, too?” asked Ned.

Peter felt his throat begin to constrict. The nails of his right hand bit into the flesh of his palm as he forced himself to take a slow breath—hold—and release…

“Yeah, Mr. Stark consulted on it himself. Some of the engineering on the headset is similar to the BARF technology. I think he might have worked on a couple system AI’s as well.”

“That is so cool man. So this is almost like his last tech contribution? Last gift to the world…”

“I doubt that. It was just a consult job, most of the work was done by Argus. Plus, Mr. Stark had years worth of projects and updates on file. We’ll probably see things he had a hand in being released for the next ten years at the least,” said Peter.

“Still pretty cool though,” said Ned with a shrug.

At that moment, Peter heard the sound of a key being inserted into the lock of the front door.

“Looks like they’re back,” he said, continuing to scroll, this time through discussions on Reddit.

“Have you had dinner yet? You know if you haven’t she’s going to force you to eat before you dive.”

“Nah, I didn’t get a chance to stop off earlier. What kind of leftovers do ya have?”

“I think there’s meatloaf and some chicken adobo left at the moment.”

“Yaaasss… Chicken adobo…”

Just then Ned’s bedroom door opened, and Mrs. Leeds poked her head in, a large smile on her face.

“Peter! I thought I saw your coat by the door! I’m glad you were able to make it tonight! Edward has been excited about the sleepover for weeks,” she said.

“Oh my god, mom! It’s not a sleepover! I doubt we’ll even sleep much!”

“Isn’t that what sleepovers are about?! You’re ridiculous… Anyway, have you eaten?” Mrs. Leeds asked, looking at Peter.

Peter had to bite back a smile, but shook his head.

“Hala ka, you’re going to waste away into dry bones! I don’t care how busy you are these days, you shouldn’t be skipping meals. You’ll blow away in a strong breeze. Come, I’ll heat something up. I know how bad you boys get about eating when its a normal game. A full immersion VR? You’ll forget you even have a real body that needs sustenance.”

“Yes, ma’am,” said Peter, dutifully following her into the kitchen.

“You are in luck. We have some leftover chicken adobo from last night. I know you like that recipe. Did May ever give it a go?”

Peter flashed back to the gloopy, slightly charred mess that was May’s attempt at cooking the dish. “Eh… Yeah but it wasn’t quite the same. Still needs a bit of work.”

“Huh,” Mrs. Leeds said, sounding confused.

“Peter!” shouted a voice from behind him.

“Hey Angie,” said Peter, before he felt arms wrap around him from behind in a bear hug.

His heart throbbed in his chest. His breath caught and wouldn’t come.

Thanos was coming for the gauntlet he couldn’t let him have it he had to run the aliens were grabbing him he had to—

“You never come around anymore! It’s been months—!”

“Stop that Angelica. It’s been a crazy year, and Peter stays very busy between school and an internship. Shouldn’t you be getting ready for bed? It’s already way passed bedtime.”

Angie rolled her eyes dramatically but stomped back off towards her room to do as she was asked.

“Sorry, dear. She just missed her big brothers, you know.”

Peter did his best to force out a grin, but he wasn’t sure just how well it came off because the next thing he knew Mrs. Leeds was giving him a tender kiss on the head and muttering about making some cups of cocoa.

It was moments like this that he truly felt the strange reality of the fact that he had lost five years of his life. On the surface level everything felt mostly the same— Aunt May along with the majority of his friends had also been snapped, as well as several of his teachers. But while they were gone, Ned’s little sister aged from an innocent five year old, to a ten year old girl who had grown in a world in more confusion, pain and desperation than Peter could really comprehend. Freshman he had helped tutor in school had graduated. Families he had known were irreparably torn apart, seemingly overnight.

It felt like while he was still the same, the rest of the world had tilted slight to the left, leaving him unbalanced and unsure where to step next. He’d always felt a bit out of place anyway after the spider bite, but now it was so much worse. Sometimes Peter wanted a taste of what normal used to be like, without freaky spider powers, world protecting responsibilities and the guilt of looking around him and wondering if he deserved to be here at all.

He glanced at the clock that hung on the wall— fifteen minutes till midnight.

“I should probably go brush my teeth too and get settled in. The server will open soon,” said Peter as he stood.

“Yeah, though there shouldn’t really be much to do other than to actually connect since we calibrated your account the other day,” said Ned.

Within ten minutes Peter had taken care of his nightly necessities and given Angie and Mrs. Leeds both a hug goodnight, settling in on the upper bunk of Ned’s bed.

“Last time I’m asking— are you sure you don’t mind me giving this the first run?” asked Peter.

Ned sighed and spun around from his computer to send Peter an exasperated look. “Do you not want to take it on its maiden voyage?”

“That’s not what I said,” Peter rolled his eyes.

“Then stop worrying.  Just have a good time for once.  Also, I downloaded a couple files to the gear.  Not sure how reliable it is yet, but a few beta testers put out some first floor tips on the DL as a downloadable in game file, so check that out once you dive.  It might help out a bit.”

“Will do.  Thanks.”

“No problem.  Now get going, and be sure to take plenty of notes in your journal to send me later.”

“See you around, kid.”

“I am older than you are by two months.  Shut up and dive, loser.”

Peter smiled as he fitted the Nervegear onto his head, laid back and said, “Link Start.”

———————

In a remote, nondescript server room a certain file kicked to life.  It’s programming had been remotely accessed, a mere accident of oversight.  The digital pathways that connected it to the Argus servers, while known about, had been forgotten in the chaos of the last few years.  The file was not one created within the system, but one created to interact within it.  The Cardinal system downloaded the precious data, implementing it in the category that best described its form and function.

Program designation: Client

System ID: Ferrum Vir

Administration level: GM

. . . .

Installation Complete

————————

At 12:00 am EST on November 5th, 2023 (1:00 pm JST), Peter Parker joined 10,000 others in the world’s first full dive MMORPG— Sword Art Online.

And so did a very confused Anthony Edward Stark.

[nancywheelxr]

27, Zarlie

There are few things that surprise Zari anymore, especially regarding missions with the Legends. Once you had a pet dragon, she supposes, your bullshit-O-meter sort of gains new heights. So yes, when Sara tells her the string of murders in the suburbs of New Jersey needs investigating, Zari thinks nothing of it.

When Sara tells her she needs her and Charlie to go undercover, it’s not like she’s pleased, but she can see it makes sense. Zari has an amulet, she’s lived in a house in the ‘burbs before, she can pass as not-cuckoo-crazy better than half of the Legends. Charlie is a shapeshifter, she knows the supernatural, understands these creatures. 

It makes sense.

Constantine lays down all sorts of wards and spells on their newly bought house. Sara inspects it thoroughly with Ava, pointing out all the ways they were unsafe under that roof and fixing them the best they can. Mick is given a half-assed badge and a generic uniform and told to play night watchman. They set all kinds of contingency plans in place.

By all means, Zari and Charlie are as safe here as one can possibly be. 

Safe as houses. 

“Do you think,” Charlie says as they settle for the night. There’s only one bed, just in case anyone comes snooping, and Zari has claimed it, allowing Charlie to graciously take the large couch they had chosen on Gideon’s IKEA catalog. “This place is haunted?”

“No,” Zari immediately says. But then again, just last year, they’ve dealt with a possessed doll and a demon again. Maybe it’s time she, too, reevaluated her beliefs. “I mean, not this particular one, no. Why?”

“Nothing,” she shrugs, lounging on the velvety couch, and her sleeping shirt rides up, revealing too much skin for Zari’s sanity. Something hot and hungry growls deep in her belly. “It’s just all this empty space– it’s an awful big house for just the two of us, innit?”

It is. Now that Charlie mentions it, Zari feels it, too. All these empty rooms on the other side of the door. Just stale air and the creaking of the wood. The blinking lights of the microwave. The clock ticking in the living room. It’s an awful big house, yes. 

“Mick’s outside,” Zari says nonsensically, wondering who she’s trying to reassure here. Or why, anyway. There’s no reason to be scared at this point, they’ve barely gotten here. Today’s been a blur of moving in, making a spectacle of furnishing the place, putting on a show to assure the neighbors that yes, this is a perfectly normal household, nothing to see here. The most frightening thing so far has been the lingering sewer smell from the busted pipe a few houses away, but Zari’s been living in an enclosed space with both Mick and Constantine, she can stand some stupid unpleasant smells. “Anyway, great topic to discuss at midnight, thanks for that, by the way.”

Charlie smirks, slow and syrupy. “I aim to please, love.”

It’s not easy, falling asleep. Zari has to stop herself from tossing and turning, forces her body to stay very still, a light sheet over her body in the stifling warmth of a heatwave during summer. Even in her dreams, she feels too hot, burning up a fever that brings strange visions to the forefront of her mind– she dreams of walking down a road with thick woods at either side, alone under the moonlight, reflecting eyes watching her from the shadows; she hears the cars approaching, sees the headlights, and yet no one passes her by. Around the bend, there’s a sign but the writing is all wrong, foreign in an impossible way, and Zari keeps on walking with the determined certainty of a dreaming person that whatever she’s looking for is at the end of this road. The eyes follow her, unblinking, and the sour smell burns her lungs like sulfur. Ahead, the road stretches on, infinite.

At some point during the night, Zari jolts awake. Just like that, tugged from her dream between one blink and the next, and she’s staring right into the vanity’s mirror. It’s a rather startling thing to see right as you’re so jarringly regaining consciousness, something terrifyingly cold crawling down her spine. Her reflection stares back at her, just as distraught, and Zari averts her eyes to the window in the reflection, exhaling at the silver moon visible through the blinds. Although, she quickly glances down, lying back on the mattress, glad that Charlie is sound asleep on the couch, because there’s no excusing her irrational fear at how much that car’s headlight had looked like glowing eyes in the dark.

*

In the morning, with the sun shining once again scalding on her skin, Zari pauses as she’s opening the bedroom window. Something odd settles on her gut. She can’t see the bed reflected in the mirror from here. This spot should not have been in the reflection last night.

The room feels suddenly very small and very empty and Zari shivers, hurrying away even as she chalks it up to the remnants of a dream. She had never seen nor heard that car drive by either. Clearly, she must have been dreaming, Charlie wouldn’t have been that still anyway, they all know she’s a messy sleeper.

*

“Do you think,” Charlie asks over breakfast with a plate of steaming pancakes between them, “someone died in this house?”

Zari sets her mug down forcefully, glaring. “Why are you like this?”

“I’m just saying,” she defends herself, resuming her inhaling of the pancakes, “the Boss said a buncha people died ‘round here, right? This place was way too cheap, I’ve seen the papers. I’m just connecting the dots, love.”

“Well, don’t, then,” Zari watches the honey slowly drip down on her plate rather than the way the sunlight hits Charlie, softening all her edges. This early in the morning, she looks too touchable, beautiful in a way that doesn’t seem impossibly far. She’s warm and solid, a person instead of a concept. It makes the fluttering feelings caged between Zari’s ribs too real, too plausible. The waters become too dangerous to thread. “I don’t need any more weird dreams because of your weird theories.”

At this, Charlie perks up. “Oh, you had a weird dream, too? Mine was completely bonkers!” She grins, excited, but something is dulled behind her eyes like she’s trying to fix up the holes in her wall with malleable plaster instead of bricks. “I dreamt I was here, in this house, but it was different. None of our stuff was here, for one, and there was this hideous wallpaper. Very 70s. The lights were out and I had a candle like some bloody Victorian penny dreadful, but whatever, I had a candle and I was hiding from something, I think? I could hear it growling and pacing around the house sometimes, so I hid in a closet– which, by the way, is kind of funny, in an ironic sort of way? Bet the big guy would get a kick out of it– and I could see it coming to open the closet door, you know, I could see through the gaps, but I woke up before it did.”

“Wow,” is all Zari can say. There’s so much to unpack there, she doesn’t even know where to begin. Jesus. 

“I know,” she shrugs, deceivingly nonchalant, “how was yours?”

Uncertainty pools all over Zari, filling her to the brim. A dream is just a dream, but something about those eyes and the writing and the window in the mirror just feels off somehow. Like the sort of thing you shouldn’t say aloud. “Can’t remember,” she says instead, and then because the wind picks up and breezes into the kitchen, she scrunches up her nose, “shit, they really need to do something about this smell.”

A disgusted sound comes out of Charlie as she pushes her half-full plate away. “It smells like something bloody died in there. What the fuck was in those pipes?”

“Dunno,” Zari shrugs, standing up to dump their dishes into the sink, and glances at the street. A few houses away, the sewer is still cordoned off. “Maybe a possum fell in or something? I think I heard some raccoons last night too.”

“Coulda just been Mick, though,” Charlie snickers and leaves to contact the ship.

*

“Nothing’s coming to mind, mate,” Constantine’s voice is staticky and tiny coming from the communicator and it grates on Zari’s nerves even more than usual. She’s folded herself on the couch, throw pillow in her lap, while Charlie is sprawled on the carpet, communicator on her stomach. “Dreamwalkers wouldn’t make this mess.”

“Are you sure?” She presses, sighing frustratedly. It had been foolish of them to think they’d get a lead so soon in the mission. 

“Positive,” he agrees, words mumbled in that way which means he’s trying to sneak a cigarette without Sara noticing, “but I’ll look into it, just in case,” then, a pause where Zari can practically hear the smirk on his voice, “anywho, how’s married life treating you lot?”

“Piss off,” Charlie scowls, eyes still closed, basking in the patch of sunlight like a cat, “don’t be a bastard. We’ll be off playing nice with our dear ole neighbors today, so tell Sara not to call until later.”

“Will do, love,” Constantine is laughing, chuckling, really, considering he doesn’t laugh, still entirely too amused by their situation, but he grows serious before adding, “be careful, though. There’s something dark in here, something hungry.”

Zari thinks of eyes watching you in the dark. She shudders. “Thanks.”

“Ta-ta,” Charlie murmurs, turning off the thing. 

In the silence that follows, his words hang in the air, floating along Charlie’s it’s just all this empty space, and Zari grips the fabric tighter, resists the urge of pulling the quilt over herself. It stems from child logic, the naive certainty that if you don’t see it, it doesn’t see you, as if a flimsy blanket would be enough to build a safe space. 

“Think its time to go pay Ms.Flower-Prints a visit?” Charlie is sitting up now, studying her with guarded eyes, a tension to her shoulder that hadn’t been there before.

Pull yourself together, Zari tells herself. To Charlie, she only says, “don’t call her that.”

*

Myrtle Jones has lived in Cherry Street for her whole life, from childhood to now, and according to her file, she never married, never had children; a lonely life in a fairly lonely place. It makes Zari wonder why she had been so reluctant to invite Zari and Charlie to her home– no, actually, it doesn’t. There are dozens of possible reasons and none of them is a good omen to the kind of person Myrtle might be. Zari wants nothing more than turn right back on the quaint stone path leading to her front door, but Charlie’s got her hand on a vice grip as if anticipating her flighty attitude.

That, of course, is a hurdle on Zari’s whole plan on staying sane and dignified for the duration of the mission. She had banked on Charlie staying as disinterested in her as she is with following rules, not teasing her over breakfast, all soft-eyed, or holding her hand because she knows Zari is liable to turn tail. Zari needs Charlie to be as awful about this whole thing as possible, needs her to make it difficult not to focus on the mission. 

In all her plans, Zari had been very stupid not to consider Charlie, as unpredictable as ever.

“Christ, could you look less like I’m holding you hostage here?” Charlie hisses, ringing the doorbell. On the glass door, Zari tries not to commit the reflection to memory. “We’re going for happily wed, not a Criminal Minds episode.”

“I really don’t want to talk with our racist neighbor,” she whispers back, shuffling a little, “besides, this whole thing is a Criminal Minds episode. Wanna bet our murderer is probably passing as a middle-aged white man?”

“Point,” Charlie admits. Huffing, she rings the doorbell again. “But Sara told us to interview everyone, see what they know. And hey, we could make a game out of pissing her off?”

Zari snorts, relaxing instinctively, and glances around. The mailbox is empty, a sign Myrtle has got to be awake already to pick up her mail. “Weird. Do you think she went out?”

“How would I know?” Charlie shrugs, peering inside the dark foyer, “looks empty to me. Do old people go out? The fuck would she go?”

Feeling considerably better already, Zari can barely suppress her smile. “Well, what a pity, it looks like we’ll have to come back later.”

Unfortunately, once again, she had forgotten to consider Charlie’s overall Charlie-ness. “Forget that,” Charlie says with a smirk bordering on excited, “why don’t we try it my way, uh? Let’s pop in, snoop around a bit, see if the old lady has got something interesting in there.”

“Charlie,” Zari hisses, fuming, “that’s breaking and entering! That’s a felony!”

“That’s rich coming from Miss FBI’s-Most-Wanted,” she raises her eyebrow in challenge, “or are you too scared, Z?”

Hey now, that just won’t do. “Shut up,” she scowls, uncrossing her arms harshly, “I’ll pick the damn lock. At least the smell can’t be any worse inside,” she mumbles with a resentful look behind her shoulder at the offending open sewers behind her.

*

With the way this whole mission is going, it’s unsurprising that the smell is not, in fact, gone. If anything, it’s even stronger inside the house, with flies buzzing past them in a frenzy. “Damn, Myrtles,” she murmurs, slipping the door closed behind them, “you live like this?”

“Bloody hell,” Charlie breathes beside her and Zari follows her gaze, taking in the living room beyond the small foyer. Yellowed photographs in old-time frames line the walls, making up almost all the empty space in the shelves too, all those people undoubtedly dead by now, their eyes seeming to zero in on them and follow their movements, staring from every corner. Everything in this house seems to have stayed in the past, left stagnant in the 40s. The furniture, the decoration, the curtains– even the TV looks like it might not broadcast in color. It also must not work anymore if the static station it was left on is anything to go by. “Talk about creepy.”

“C’mon,” she tugs at Charlie, hand slipping oh-so-easily on hers, “let’s take a look upstairs first.”

The stairs creak with each step they take as if hell-bent on announcing their uninvited presence there to unseen witnesses and Zari feels Charlie squeezing her hand in wordless reassurance. Any other time, any other place, Zari would probably focus a little more on this. As it is, though, stepping into the bedroom without gagging is her main concern. Jesus, is there an open window right over the pipes in there or what?

“Well, this is dodgy,” Charlie says after getting one look inside the room. “Either the old lady is into some kinky shit or someone definitely got murdered in here.”

Blood stains the walls, the ceiling, the floorboards, in different stages of drying, while the whole place is trashed beyond recognition, almost as if a wild animal had torn it all apart in a fit of inhuman rage; a butcher’s place destroyed down to the red-stained structure. Deep scratches have gone through the floral wallpaper and revealed the wood, the plaster, all the way to the other room, and the smell is even worse in here, sticking to the back of her throat, to her tongue, to her lungs, makes her taste mothballs and rotten eggs. “What the hell,” Zari croaks, holding her breath before her stomach turns inside out on what’s clearly a crime scene.

“We should go,” Charlie coughs, eyes tearing up at the foul stench, her hands like claws on Zari’s wrists, “Z, come on, I’m not trying to be funny, we should go now.”

But they can’t, not yet, not when the closet is staring right there at Zari, door slightly ajar, and fuck, she knows what she’s going to find there, she’s seen their eyes on her dreams last night, but she has the same crystal clear certainty now– whatever it is she’s looking for is just up ahead, just around the bend. Just beyond that closet door.

“Oh, bollocks,” Charlie curses, kicking a nearby ottoman and checking the hallway outside as Zari slowly unfreezes herself to follow the bloody breadcrumbs, that terrible smell. “Please tell me you’re not going to– for fuck’s sake, Z, we need to go!”

Zari doesn’t answer her, simply reaching a hand to the cold metal handle, pointedly not taking a deep breath before carefully swinging it open. 

The contents inside all topple down at her feet but the first thing she registers is the smell. It burns in her nostrils and she gags, dry heaving in the blood-soaked carpet. Then, she notices a terrified Myrtle Jones staring right back at her with glazed unseeing eyes.

Her scream stays stuck in her throat, but Zari feels nausea lap at her stomach and the next thing she knows, Charlie is supporting her weight, an arm around her middle, and there are even more flies now, buzzing around them, covering what’s left of Myrtle with black polka dots that clash terribly with her floral patterns, with the blood staining her whole dress. Limbs and body parts too rotten to recognize litter in a pile over her body and Zari is going to be sick because they all look gnawed on, there are teeth marks on them, sharp fangs that scratched down to the bone and sucked out the marrow, and the maggots fester on the putrefied meat.

“Z,” Charlie whispers, arms tightening around her, drawing her back, away from the gore, “that looks–”

“That’s Myrtle,” she confirms, voice breaking and wavering, as she wobbles herself, “that’s– Charlie, that’s Myrtle!”

“That’s at least a week old, Z,” Charlie continues, eyes fixed on the bloody pile of what must be their murderer’s leftovers, “Myrtle’s been dead for a bloody week.”

Something cold crawls up her spine and Zari’s stomach bottoms out. If that’s– that can’t be right, it just. If Myrtle has been dead for a week – “then who the fuck did we talk to?”

Downstairs, the stairwell creaks.