#i know exactly what the author is doing and why but like. eh.

[cuubism]

a very silly story for you. johanna, dreamling's weird baby, and an accidental kidnapping (and subsequent rescue)

--

Johanna’s seen a lot of weird shit in her time. It comes with the territory. Magical shit also tends to be horrible shit which also tends to be weird shit. But even she is finding herself flummoxed by this one.

She’d broken into this flat prepared to perform an exorcism. Amateur occultist, planning to summon a demon? That’s what she’d heard, and yeah, that wasn’t going to go well. And it hadn’t—the guy was on fire when she arrived, so on fire that there was no way she could put it out or help him, though she had throne a blanket over him in a meager attempt. It was too late, though. He was charcoal in seconds.

That, while horrible, wasn’t even the weird part. The weird part was that there wasn’t even a demon, but there was a baby.

Sitting in the middle of the room, in a bird cage.

Johanna stares at it now, barely noticing the acrid smoke she’s still breathing in. Why the actual fuck is there a baby in a birdcage?

It doesn’t seem to be hurt at all. It’s just sitting there on a blanket at the bottom of the cage, clutching a little cat stuffed toy in its chubby fingers. But it’s in a birdcage. A bird cage.

Johanna goes to open the cage, of course she does—

And the moment she touches the latch she jumps back, shaking out her hand from the spark. Holy hell, that thing is warded to high heaven. That cage could probably keep a demon contained. Why is a baby warded like that? It’s just a human—

It.

It looks like a human baby.

Johanna circles the cage, more wary now. She should know better, should know that an occultist like that wouldn’t be carrying around a regular baby in a cage. Even if you’re a real sicko, you don’t need a cage to keep hold of a baby. It can’t even walk.

So it’s not a regular baby. Sure looks like one, though. Makes the hair on the back of her neck stand up, that does.

As Johanna looks more closely at the wards, the baby watches her with wide eyes, sucking on its thumb. It’s actually pretty cute. It’s even wearing a star-print onesie. The wards are hardcore, though. Nothing’s getting in, and certainly nothing is getting out.

“Either you’re some fucked up thing disguised as a baby,” she muses out loud, “or you’re an actual little baby fucked up thing, which means your fucked up nightmare mummy is going to come looking for you.”

The baby blurbles in agreement.

Either way, she can’t exactly take it to the authorities. Which means she’s going to have to take the baby home, at least for now.

“Fuck me,” Johanna says, and picks up the cage.

--

The baby is silent on the drive home—buckled awkwardly into the back seat of the car—and remains so as Johanna puts the cage down on the floor of her living room. It watches her with big eyes, sucking its thumb. It doesn’t seem particularly afraid, though Johanna can’t imagine being in a cage is very pleasant, even for a baby that probably doesn’t understand what’s going on anyway.

Or who knows, maybe it does. Jo doesn’t really know much about babies’ development trajectories.

“Right,” she says, looking at it with hands on her hips. “I’m not really looking to become a mum, so we’ll have to get you out of there and back where you belong. Fuck if I know where that is.”

The baby makes a gurgling sound that could be agreement or just gassiness.

Johanna gets out some chalk and starts to draw a containment array around the cage. “Sorry about this, little chap,” she says, “but I still don’t know what you are. Better safe than sorry, eh?”

The baby is silent, watching her.

Johanna finishes the containment circle, binding it off with a final rune. It’s not so mean of a ward as the cage had. Just enough to keep the baby from exploding with power once she does break the cage open. If that’s something it can even do.

She studies the ward. “Think I can pick this lock,” she says to herself. “Take me a sec, though. Don’t suppose you want a beer while you wait?” This to the baby. “I haven’t got any formula. Or are you old enough for baby food?”

The baby just sucks on its thumb. It really does seem quite sweet. Shame about secretly being a monstrosity in a cage, and all.

Johanna works on the ward, occasionally chatting out loud to the baby. It doesn’t reply, obviously, but it listens. Johanna is feeling more invested in getting it back to its parents the longer she sits with it. Even if it is some gross creature, it doesn’t deserve to be in a birdcage. It’s just a baby.

“Good trick we met each other, my friend,” she says as she finally unravels the last bit of the warding. “Doubt that guy had good plans for his captured baby.”

She clicks open the ward.

As soon as she does, the formerly placid baby starts screaming. And Johanna realizes that part of the ward’s function had been to stop it from crying for help.

“Mama!” the baby wails, tears pooling in its eyes, little fists scrunched tight around its plushy’s legs. “MammaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!”

Its voice warbles outside the normal sound range and straight into her brain, ringing like a bell. She covers her ears, but it doesn’t help. Great, now the thing’s mother is going to show up and eat her. This is what she gets for trying not to be a total asshole for once. Should’ve opened the cage in the street and fled.

“Shhhhhh,” she tries to soothe the baby, “it’s okay—” But it’s too late. And Johanna isn’t a very soothing person anyway. It probably wouldn’t have worked, even if the room hadn’t been plunged into sudden darkness.

Johanna stumbles back, though she can see nothing. Thunder and static ripple through the air, cold wind tangles her hair. Jo claps her hands over her ears as the air pressure increases and increases and—

The baby squeals, and it sounds happy now, rather than afraid. “Mama!!”

A voice scraped from the utter depths of mental torment booms through her flat.

C  O  N  S  T  A  N  T  I  N  E

Ah, fuck.

“Morpheus,” she tries, because she does recognize that voice, unfortunately, “listen—”

A wall of sand knocks her backwards.

As it does, some light returns to the flat, and she can see Morpheus, looking markedly less pathetic than when she’d last encountered him, standing in the center of the living room, looking down at the baby. His eyes flash with otherworldly light. His sand rushes around him, scrapes through the binding circle she’d drawn like it’s nothing but chalk, dissolves the birdcage to nothing, plays with the baby’s curls and pools in the crevices of its onesie. Meanwhile, it flattens Johanna against the wall, wraps in winding strands of wind around her chest and squeezes.

The baby reaches for Morpheus, who kneels and picks it up. He says something to the baby, the words low and solemn but inaudible over the rushing sand, then holds it close to his chest.

Then his gaze turns to Johanna.He looks murderous. Johanna had thought he’d been pissed off about his sand. She hadn’t seen even a tenth of it.

“I guess you’re mama?” she says, past the sand squeezing around her chest. This really is just the kind of stupid thing that would happen to her.

Morpheus’s eyes are like black holes in his pale face. “Constantine,” he growls, with much of the same danger as before, though at lower volume. “I thought we had parted on neutral terms. More fool I. What grudge do you still hold against me?” The sand squeezes her tighter. “Speak quickly, for your time is limited.”

“There’s no grudge, I have nothing to—”

“Ransom, then?” says Morpheus, seeming, if possible, more angry. “You would compel favors from me by threatening a child?” He clutches the baby to his chest. It’s started chewing on the lapel of his coat. The whole picture would be kind of hilariously adorable if she weren’t on the verge of being torn apart by nightmares.

“I’m not responsible for this!” Johanna insists. “Consult your stalker encyclopedia of all minds if you have to. You really think I’m going around kidnapping infants?”

“I think,” says Morpheus, each syllable a new threat, “that you must explain why you had my daughter in a cage. NOW. And count yourself fortunate I have granted you the mercy of an explanation.”

“I literally just found her!” Johanna says. Doesn’t she deserve even a little bit of good faith? She did help with the sand and all. Morpheus’s eyes narrow as if he does not believe her. “Look. Caught wind of this amateur guy messing around with occult stuff. Thought he’d summoned a demon so I went to exorcise it. Found this baby instead.”

“And what of this man?” says Morpheus in a tone that suggests exactly what will soon become of him.

“He was practically dead by the time I got there. Burned alive.” She shudders. She still hasn’t figured out exactly what was going on there, if he’d meant to summon Morpheus’s baby in the first place—ill-advised choice, that—or if it was a spell gone wrong. “‘Fraid you’re too late to torment him.”

“Hmm,” rumbles Morpheus, with evident displeasure, but the sand finally releases Johanna and she sways, standing on her own feet again. Morpheus doesn’t apologize for throwing her against the wall. “You will show me where you found her.”

“Sure, mate,” Johanna says, sucking in a wheezing breath. “Might want to get your baby home first, though.”

Morpheus doesn’t get a chance to respond. Behind Johanna, the front door bursts open— bursts off its fucking hinges, goddammit, now she’ll have to get that fixed— and a man runs through. A very ordinary man, except that he’s carrying a sword. An actual, medieval-looking sword. And in a way that suggests he knows how to use it, too.

He looks almost as murderous as Morpheus, except that no one can quite match Morpheus’s shadows-and-cataclysm level of murder. Evidently, Johanna found the most radioactive baby in all the occult world. But at least it has people that care about it. That’s nice, she supposes.

As soon as he sees Morpheus with the baby across the room, he relaxes, sheathing the sword in a scabbard strapped to his back. “Ah, love. You found her.”

“Dadaaaaaa!!!!” yells the baby with its piercing voice, reaching for him. And the man smiles, striding past Johanna and taking the baby from Morpheus, leaning in to kiss Morpheus on the cheek as he does.

“Hob,” says Morpheus, with a little smile that finally breaks his stormy countenance. “Yes. She called for me when she was able.”

“Good lass,” says Hob, kissing the baby on the forehead, then looks warily at Johanna.

“Ms. Constantine is not responsible,” says Morpheus, and ‘Hob’—his partner? Coparent? Johanna’s not sure she even wants to know—relaxes further.

“Great. Glad we’ve established that. How the hell did you find my flat.” This she demands of Hob.

Hob reaches into the back of the baby’s onesie and plucks a small disc off the collar; he shows it to her with a little wave, then slips it in his pocket.

“Is that an AirTag?”

“We aren’t all plugged into the whole collective unconscious.” He taps the baby on the nose fondly, and she giggles, grabbing at his finger. “And you’re Dada’s little flight risk, aren’t you?”

Johanna sighs, finally flopping down on the couch now that it seems she’s unlikely to get swept away to nightmare-land. She definitely needs a beer after this. “You have a baby?” she says to Morpheus.

“Evidently,” he says flatly. So much for getting answers on that.

“Have we gone after the person who was responsible?” asks Hob. Johanna thinks he means it to come out mildly but it doesn’t, really.

“Already got set on fire, mate,” Jo tells him. “Found him like that.”

“Set on fire?” says Hob with a frown. “Was the rest of the room on fire?”

As a matter of fact, it wasn’t. Which is strange.

Silently, she shakes her head, and Hob turns back to the baby. Now he’s grinning. “Did the bad man wish for power?” he says, in a baby-talk voice, bouncing the baby in his arms. “Did he? And did my little Sparkle take that literally and turn him into a lightbulb?” As a conspiratorial aside to Johanna, he says, “She loves electricity.”

“Sparkle?” she says. “She’s a baby, not a My Little Pony.”

“That is a nickname,” says Morpheus, with a sideways glance at Hob that suggests he finds it questionable at best. “She is Wish.” He says this in the same way he might say I am Dream, rather than my name is Dream.

A moment later, Johanna learns where the nickname came from, as Wish giggles and taps at Hob’s face, sparks dancing around her fingertips. Sparkle. Jesus.

“She does not yet have a firm grasp on her abilities,” says Morpheus.

Wish. Half-Endless baby. Kidnapper set on fire. Jo thinks she gets it now. She shivers.

“You have sworn to show me where you found her,” Morpheus reminds her. Sworn. Does he have to be so dramatic?

Jo sighs, but heaves herself up from the couch. “Yep. Alright. So long as you promise to keep better track of that monkey’s paw baby of yours.”

Morpheus bristles, but Hob just chuckles. “This is the easy part. Wait ’til she gets better at flying.”

He doesn’t appear to be joking. “Don’t envy you,” Johanna says. Then grudgingly admits, “She is cute, though.”

Hob beams.

Morpheus is still fixated on her. Johanna can read the demand without him having to voice it. “What, you’re gonna bring the baby along on the revenge mission?” she asks.

They both just look at her. Neither moves to take Wish home.

“Figures,” Johanna says, with a sigh. This is what she gets for not choosing a more normal profession. She opens the front door and gestures them on. “Fine, then. Let’s go.”

[nocturnest]

Captivating

you keep staring at tangerine and he wants to know why.

author's note: who isn't captivated by this handsome brit who struts as he walks and has the mouth of a sailor?! 😩🤌🏻

Tangerine couldn't help but notice the way your eyes kept drifting in his direction as he sat across the aisle, deep in conversation with Lemon about the seriousness of the mission and who exactly the White Death was. Every time he glanced up, he'd catch you quickly averting his gaze, a faint blush creeping across your cheeks.

He couldn't deny the intrigue he felt - there was something about the way you carried yourself, the way your eyes would linger on him for just a moment too long, that had him curious. Sure, there were plenty of women who had stared at him before. It wasn't anything new, but they had never had such curiosity in their gaze, such longing.

When the chaos erupted over the missing briefcase, Tangerine knew he needed to find a moment to pull you aside and get to the bottom of this peculiar fascination. Especially if there was a chance that he wouldn't be getting off this train alive. As the train rumbled on, he waited patiently for his opportunity, until finally, he spotted you slipping into the bathroom.

Without hesitation, he followed, gently pushing the door open and stepping inside, closing it gently behind him. Your eyes went wide with surprise, your breath catching in your throat. It was one thing to observe this handsome man from afar, hiding behind your book, but up close? You couldn't help but observe the deep blues of his eyes, the way that his collar was open just enough that you could see his chest. His mere presence was sinful.

"H-Hello," you stammered, your fingers gripping the edge of the sink as you attempted to steady yourself. "I-um...I didn't expect you to-"

"Why do you keep looking at me, love?" he asked, his voice low and smooth as he moved closer, effectively trapping you against the wall.

You swallowed hard, your gaze darting everywhere but his face. "I... I don't know what you mean. I haven't been-"

Tangerine reached out, gently tilting your chin up so your eyes met. "Don't play coy with me, darlin'," he murmured, his thumb brushing across your bottom lip. "I've seen the way you look at me. What is it about me that has you so... captivated?"

Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but there was something else there too - a spark of curiosity, of intrigue, that Tangerine couldn't help but find so endearing.

"I... I'm sorry, I don't mean to stare," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "It's just... well, you're so different from anyone I've ever seen. The way you carry yourself, the way you speak, it's all so... intoxicating."

Tangerine felt a slow grin spread across his face. "Intoxicating, eh?" he purred, leaning in closer until your noses were nearly brushing. "And what is it about me that you find so intoxicating, love?"

Your breath caught in your throat, your heart pounding in your chest. "I-I... I don't know, really. There's just something about you that draws me in. The way you seem so confident, so sure of yourself. It's... it's captivating."

Tangerine chuckled, the sound low and rumbling. "Well, well, aren't you just full of surprises," he murmured, his fingers trailing along the delicate curve of your neck. "And here I was, thinking I was the only one who was... intrigued."

Your eyes widened, your pulse quickening at his touch. "Y-you were... intrigued by me?"

Tangerine nodded, his gaze never leaving yours. "Oh, yes, darlin'. From the moment I saw you starin' at me, I've been dyin' to get you alone like this."

He leaned in even closer, his lips brushing against your ear. "So tell me, love... what is it that you want from me?"

Your breath hitched, your mind racing with a thousand different thoughts. You knew you should be terrified, trapped in this small bathroom with a man you barely knew. But somehow, in the depths of those piercing blue eyes, you found herself utterly captivated, yearning for his touch.

"I... I want to know you," you whispered, your trembling fingers reaching up to caress the side of his face. "All of you."

Tangerine's lips curved into a predatory smile, and in one swift motion, he closed the distance between you both, capturing your mouth in a searing kiss that left you breathless.

@kpopgirlbtssvt @little-miss-dilf-lover @sebsbarnes @kiss-me-cill-me @idontknowwhattohaveasmyuser @j23r23 @spookyspecterino @liukangsgirl @azureseacloud hope you guys enjoy!

[dilvuc]

Hi I'm Liam and I came up with a cute idea that I hope you can write

Jamil and Reader (Male) make a bet with each other and the loser has to do what the winner says. When Jamil loses the bet reader decides that he gets to do Jamils hair and he has to wear the style for the entire school day. Jamil aspects that it's gonna end up really bad but reader actually does a really good job and Jamil starts asking reader to do his hair ever once in a while

That's my idea. If you don't wanna write it you don't have to but I hope you do. Anyways make sure to take care of yourself and get plenty of sleep.

A cute picture I found on pinterist of Jamil 🙂

❝BET❞

𝖌𝖊𝖓𝖗𝖊: fluff

𝖌𝖊𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗: male

𝖙𝖎𝖙𝖑𝖊: bet

𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌: jamil x m!reader

𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌: none

𝖘𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖞: jamil lost a bet to you and now had to listen to what you say. however, your order isn't that bad.

“Look like I lost the bet. Ok, what do you have for me?” jamil asked you, awaiting your order. you thought to yourself then snap your finger, “Let me do your hair.”

“Eh? My hair? Why?” the tan skinned male asked while stroking his hair. you nodded, “I couldn't resist trying to do your pretty hair.”

“...! M…my hair isn't that pretty…” jamil blushed.

“Plus, you'll be keeping your hair in the way I put it for the whole day.” thanks for ruining the mood for jamil, you. the tan skinned male unbraided his hair and untied his hair, letting it fall back, “Ok…Do your worst.”

“What do you mean by that??” you sweatdropped. you remember watching rapunzel back in your world. so, you know exactly what hairstyle you'll give him. you reach for jamil's lock, realizing how soft it is. “Soft…”

“H-hey, don't be a creep…” jamil shivered.

“I wasn't!” you huffed before getting to work. it didn't take long for you to finish his hair. you were hoping that he would like it. since you knew that he would look pretty in it. “Done~”

“If you screwed up my hair, I'm gonna make you eat more spice until you're unable to handle it.” jamil threatened you. you deadpanned, “Is that a threat…?”

the tan skinned male grabbed the mirror from you to check his hair. and…it was all that bad. why does it make him feel…?

“Beautiful…” you grinned, catching jamil off guard. he turned to you in question. you chuckled, “I wouldn't want to screw up your hair. I just wanted to do your hair because I have been desperate to do it. Do you like it?”

“...I…it's not half bad…” jamil blushed. “But…do I look beautiful with my hair like this?”

“Silly question. You still look beautiful in whatever hairstyle you have.” you winked.

“...! Heh. Your charm never ends…” the tan skinned male smiled timidly, looking away. you snickered, “Now, you can walk around with your hair like that for today.”

jamil shyly asked, “C…can you do my hair every once in a while?”

“Sure~” you nodded.

“Whoa! Jamil! Your hair looks pretty!” kalim beamed as he gently grabbed jamil's braid. “We should add some accessories in them!”

“Good idea~ Some beautiful flowers and gold.” you smile at kalim’s idea. jamil sweatdropped, “Eh? W-wait!”

“Wow…I must admit. Your hair looks…gorgeous.” vil complimented the tan skinned male's hair. “Look at the accessories. Who did your hair?”

“[Y]...” jamil blushed, gently stroking his hair, “I lost a bet, so he suggested that he can do my hair.”

vil blinked owlishly, “Oh? Maybe I should ask him to do mine. Not bad for a potato.”

╰┈➤ author note: please note that this is a slow update. i will still accept your request, but it will take a while since i'll be working on my books on wattpad. if you wish to read those books, here's my wattpad account.

twst masterlist

rules

[iwritefandomimagines]

BLIND DATE — JAMIE TARTT

masterlist

pairing: jamie tartt x reader

description: you and jamie never saw eye to eye. when keeley offers to set you up on a blind date and it’s him that turns up, you’re irritated. but you’re soon to find out that maybe she’s right… maybe he has changed.

warnings: enemies to lovers if you squint bc there’s not much angsty content it’s more implied, swearing, alcohol consumption, fluff at the end because that’s my mf baby

author’s note: i live and breathe enemies to lovers jamie tartt content so this is sooo self indulgent and fluffy ish at the end.

———

“You have got to be fuckin’ kidding me?”

You’d already been reluctant when Keeley Jones begged you to let her set you up with someone she knew.

Your best friend had been going on at you about needing to ‘get yourself out there’ for ages now — and the only reason you had given in to her request was so that she’d back off a bit.

But now, as the one and only Jamie fucking Tartt approached your table, your dress felt especially clingy and your palms felt especially sweaty.

“Y/N,” Jamie smirked, having always enjoyed getting under your skin, “You look fucking stunnin’, and really fucking happy to see me.”

You rolled your eyes as he sat down, “Why the hell would Keeley set me up with you of all people?”

Jamie pushed his hair out of his face, and you couldn’t help but take his whole look in as he removed his jacket and adjusted his shirt.

Okay, he may have been a massive prick — but not even you could deny that he wasn’t exactly a chore to look at. Just a chore to listen to.

“See, Y/N, I hear ya voice complaining,” he quipped, leaning forward to rest his chin on his palm as his other hand waved over a waiter, “But you’re still checking me out. Like what you see, eh?”

Before you had a chance to snap back at the walking irritant in front of you, the waiter was at your table taking your drinks orders.

A large glass of wine to cool your nerves would do nicely was what you had decided before he’d arrived — but now a bottle seemed more appropriate.

Of course, when you asked for this Jamie just smiled smugly, “Yeah, you know what? Me ‘n the lady will share. Bring us your most expensive bottle of Pinot Grigio, yeah?”

You tried not to cringe at his mispronunciation.

You sighed, sipping at the table water you’d already been brought as the waiter nodded and rushed away.

“Now where were we, love?”

“You were being arrogant, I was still trying to figure out how I’ve ended up sat opposite you… Just like old times.”

Jamie scoffed, “Oh no, I was simply observin’ that you checked me out. Don’t worry, love, I was checking you out too. Like I said, you’re stunnin’.”

You hated that he could so obviously see his words had affected you — a crimson blush immediately staining your cheeks as he quirked his eyebrow in acknowledgement.

“I can think that you’re attractive and still think you’re a prick, Jamie,” you shrugged, a small smile on your lips as he screwed up his face, “I do have eyes.”

He licked his lips, “See, makin’ progress already. Never admitted you fancy me before, but if it helps, love, I fancy you too.”

You scoffed again, “I said you’re attractive, not that I fancy you.”

“Same thing,” he shrugged, leaning further forward, “Look, I know you think I’m a twat, but I’ve been working on how not to be.”

You looked at him for a moment, not sure what to make of his words.

He’d always been an egotistical arse, always convinced he was God’s gift to earth, and his shameless flirting whilst also being an arsehole had always just grated on you.

You’d had some semblance of a crush on him once, almost admiring his confidence (and of course how gorgeous he was) but his attitude had led you to a prickling disdain for the man instead.

He knew he got under your skin, so he would flirt outrageously and nitpick at things you did and said to piss you off and rile you up.

Keeley had insisted he took the whole childhood ‘if they’re mean to you they like you’ bollocks all too seriously, but you’d brushed that off considering the fact that he was still very much lapping up any and all female attention he received elsewhere.

Given that you only attended events as Keeley’s friend, it hadn’t been hard to avoid him since — deciding that it wasn’t worth letting him get to you.

“So Keeley’s been saying,” you narrowed your eyes, “I know you flirt with, like, anything that breathes, but I’m surprised you’re not more disappointed by her decision to set us up.”

It was Jamie’s turn to scoff now, his eyes never leaving yours as you felt suddenly shy under his close watch.

“She didn’t set us up, I asked her to.”

You furrowed your brows, confused as to why the fuck he’d do that. Sure, he’d flirted with you before but you were certain it was just to piss you off.

“What?”

“I knew you didn’t like me, ‘cos you only know the old Jamie Tartt,” he pouted, and you fought the urge to chuckle, “So I asked her to pretend it was just some mate of hers she wanted to send you on a blind date with. Just to see if you’d give me a chance, ya know?”

You were almost touched by his words, but still remained wary about his intentions, “Why— what made you that determined for a date with me?”

He laughed, a big loud laugh that drew the attention of many surrounding tables.

The waiter returned now, interrupting you again.

He poured you both a glass of wine and placed down the wine cooler as you and Jamie thanked him whilst never looking away from each other.

“For the third time tonight, you’re fuckin’ stunning Y/N. And I like that you never took my shit back then. Just figured it was time to try me luck and see if ya’d change your mind about me,” if you didn’t know him better, you’d think he was nervous, “‘S why Keeley’s been talkin’ me up to you so much. She’s known I’ve had a thing for you for, like, ages.”

You were gobsmacked — not only by his confession, but the sincerity his voice held.

“Why’ve you not reached out sooner, then? I haven’t seen you in months, not since the last charity gala,” you bit your lip.

You remembered that night very well, given that you’d almost shared a drunken kiss with him until you came to your senses and left the party.

He only smirked again, “You remember the exact last time we saw each other, huh?”

“Jamie…”

“Alright, alright,” he raised his hands in defeat, “I was gutted you didn’t kiss me at that party, even though it’s fair that you didn’t. Keeley told me you deserved better than how I’d been treating you, but that she knew if I got me shit together we’d make a good couple. So I waited ‘til me shit was, well, together. And now here we are. With my shit sorta together.”

You were almost speechless, “Jamie— that’s, well, that’s actually really sweet.”

He rolled his eyes with a smile, “Glad ya think so, love. Been hard as fuck and I’ve almost called you a fuck load of times, too, but Keeley and Roy have been really good with helping and that.”

Now you were really surprised, “Roy’s been helping you work on yourself? Fuckin’ hell, things must have changed since I last saw you!”

Jamie laughed, pursing his lips as he shrugged and let out a breathy sigh, “He won’t admit it but we’re, like, friends now. Don’t tell him I said that though. He’d go fuckin’ mental.”

“Oh I know,” you chuckled, “But I hope you’ve been doing this for yourself as well, not just trying to change to make other people happy.

The smile on his face spread warmth through your chest, and you could feel the walls you’d built up to protect yourself from Jamie’s old self beginning to crumble.

Your face was lit with a smile now, a wide and sincere smile that you could tell boosted his confidence about this whole elaborate plan.

“Nah, it’s been good,” he nodded, “And you’ve never smiled at me like that, not even when we first met and you were trying to be nice before I fucked things by being all Jamie Tartt. So I’d say it’s, like, more than worth it, to be fair.”

Your smile only widened at that, and his matched it almost exactly.

“I don’t even know what to say at this point, but I’d be lying if I said I’m not actually glad I’m here now,” you bit your lip, maintaining steady eye contact with him and placing your hand on the table.

He was quick to place his own hand atop yours, “‘M really glad to hear it, Y/N. Can we treat this like a fresh start or whatever? Like a real blind date? Want to show you I’ve changed properly, that I’m a new Jamie.”

You giggled, poking your thumb out to rub the back of his hand with it, “Sure. I’m Y/N Y/L/N, and it’s nice to meet you. Sorry if this is forward but you look really good tonight, stranger.”

He beamed like a proud child at those words, “Jamie Tartt. You look fuckin’ phenomenal, Y/N. Since we’ve like, never met, this might be weird,” you rolled your eyes with a laugh at how seriously he was taking the starting over thing, “But I hope this ain’t our only date.”

“Play your cards right, Jamie Tartt, and it won’t be,” you smiled, standing up and leaning over to press a soft kiss to his cheekbone.

“Because, and I can’t believe I’m saying this, I hope it isn’t either.”

———

eeeee i hope you enjoyed that, i love jamie tartt a ridiculous amount so couldn’t help myself ! here’s my masterlist if you want to read more of my jamie fics or any of my other stuff!

also kinda feeling a part two where you’re secretly dating and turn up to a richmond squad event with him? let me know if u would like that!!!

[pfhwrittes]

hey p this is nobody you know but do you have thoughts about depot mouse seeing something they shouldn't have seen? 😇

hello friend! (who i definitely don't know, no siree) i waffled over this and my search results are now full of dubiously legal activities that i definitely haven't ever seen in practice, not even once mr/ms/mx GCHQ person checking online traffic. (i also got distracted by portakabin set ups, but that's a separate issue.) and then my brain spat this out for the tradieverse.

does it answer the prompt? eh, vaguely. but i hope you'll be pleased with it.

tags/tw: non-sexual semi-nudity, russian pet names (pchelka = little bee, myshka = mouse, milaya = darling/sweetie/dearest), light angst at the end, and a very brief mention of choking.

author's note: barely skimmed for typos and bad grammar as always and a patented (by @/391780) abrupt ending because i couldn't figure out how to end it and it was getting away from me.

at this point, you're certain nikolai thinks it's funny to have you running around after him. flitting from your office to the driver's "lounge" (another portakabin, this time outfitted with a row of lockers, a sagging sofa, a table and set of scattered chairs, and a small kitchenette area), you yank open the door and your waspish comments die on your tongue.

nikolai is leaning against the counter of the kitchenette. in his pants. in just his pants.

unbidden your eyes skate over his broad shoulders, down over a glimmering gold chain that is nestled in thick, dark hair that spreads wildly over his chest to a soft stomach, to land on the tightest pair of black briefs you've ever seen.

"hello, myshka." nik's voice snaps you out of your staring and you feel heat flooding your cheeks as you tear your gaze away from his... underwear to meet his amused brown eyes.

"i, um, i was looking for you." you absolutely do not let your eyes drop below his neck as nik redistributes his weight as he laughs.

"and now you have found me." nik grins, a flash of surprisingly white teeth considering the amount of black tea and cigarettes he imbibes.

"yes, i wanted to - sorry, but why exactly are you in your pants?" you blurt out.

nik shrugs his broad shoulders and you drag your gaze up to look just past his left ear where a damp lock of black hair curls lazily.

"my clothes are wet." he says simply, like that explains everything. it probably does, knowing the very little you do know about nik.

there's a beat of silence where nik continues to grin and you ignore the way your neck and face are blazing with heat.

"right." you clear your throat uncomfortably. "anyway, i need your receipts."

"it's no problem, i've already handed them to farah." nik waves your words off with a lazy flap of his hand.

"yes, it is a problem! you can't just hand your receipts off to the head of the company, nikolai!" you huff irritably and nikolai interrupts you with a loud boisterous laugh.

"ah, pchelka." he sighs fondly, "always so busy running around, you miss what's right in front of your nose."

that brings you up short and you scowl furiously at him. of course he would think that, all he has to worry about to getting from the depot to the job site and back again. he isn't having to chase wayward drivers around for scraps of paper, or answering the phone to a disgruntled jonathan price when he can't get hold of nikolai, or answering emails with the subject line "how much 4 hardcore??" that you hope to god have come from a bot and not some sad, lonely weirdo thinking that a haulage company offers pornography.

the grin on nik's face flickers slightly and you see his eyes are no longer amused, but soft, almost apologetic.

"sweetness, i'm sorry. i didn't mean to imply-"

"it's fine." you interrupt him, your tone has gone flat and professional despite the way frustration burns at your lungs, urging you to unload all of your irritation on the man. "i'll just go ask farah for the receipts."

nik takes a step towards you.

"milaya -"

"no, really nik." you turn away to push at the door, "thank you for your help as always." you shove open the door and stomp across the dirt to the office you share with farah, leaving nik behind you in his underpants.

(later in the afternoon, after you had emailed farah to send you copies of nikolai's receipts, you lean back in your chair and refuse to let your mind drift back to the glittering gold chain resting on nik's collarbone.

and if you do, it's only because you're thinking about wrapping it around your fist to strangle the insufferable man with it, honest. )

[alea-says]

H50, Season 6, Episode 9 thoughts...

Oh be still my beating heart - WHY do glasses just make some men so much sexier? Why?

(Also, is it bad that I knew it was Danny by his forearm? Since when can I recognise someone by their forearm? Sorry Steve, I be also looking at your man)

Like Danny, I'm not quite sure whether to be charmed or offended that Steve knows stuff about him that isn't even in his file. Eh, it's fiction, I'll go with charmed.

Love Kono teasing Lou about what Steve knows about them.

Ok, please tell me that Nahele's father coming back means Steve is going to step up more and move this mentorship into a guardianship.

Girl in Danny's class, I understand your need to hit on the hot new professor, but wait until you see him interacting with Steve and you'll understand (Also, Danny is the kind of guy who would never engage while he's in a position of authority, and he'd worry about the age difference, but also... Steve)

Oh dear. This girl is back flirting with Danny.

And now Danny's phone is ringing and he knows exactly who it is. Let me guess, Steve?

It was!

Danny is rocking this professor gig. I'm guessing there were a bunch of professor AUs written after this aired?

Aww. Steve talking to Nahele's dad.

Steve: but maybe I'm being overprotective, you know. I just wanna do right by this kid.

🥰

And now we have even more students saying how hot Danny is.

Poor Eric having to listen to this.

Noooo. Poor Nahele.

Aww.. he went to hang out in Steve's car that they fixed up together.

Steve: I will always protect you, all right. All right?

🥰

Yes, tell him, Nahele!

Deleted scene:

Okay, the way Danny lights up at the fact Steve knew his favourite animal is a giraffe. ❤️

Danny: How did you know that?

Steve: I know everything about you.

[ray-gt]

A Night at the Quasar Cafe [gtgotcha4gaza]

For: @biggnansmol, @gtgotcha4gaza Prompt: First Date (giant/human) Summary: Sabine Ducote is professionally curious, or at least that's how she likes to describe her work. Part private eye, part bounty hunter, she makes a living dealing in other people's business. But when a favour sends her to a sketchy out-of-quadrant "Boundary Bar" to meet with an informant four times her size, Sabine realises just how dangerous curiosity can be.

CW: side character death, descriptions of minor violence

[ao3]

The Informant

Sabine’s ship communicator flashed a bright red and she didn’t know whether to smile or groan when she saw the ID. She decided on both. She ignored it for a while, focussing on navigating to the jump point, hoping the call would die.

On the back of her neck, the hairs pricked.

Let him wait

But when it began bipping incessantly - angry at being ignored, like a toddler pulling at her pant leg - she finally answered.

“With all this cold calling, Jay, I’m beginning to think you’re sweet on me.”

Jay’s voice erupted with something between a cough, a bark, and a laugh. Sabine could imagine the volcanic ash pouring from his thick, scarred lips, and between his black mandibles, as he sat in his office, looking over the bright lights of Blue Marine, the casino empire he built from nothing to cover an entire moon.

No doubt, there was a Nethulyan cigar between his pincers - Sabine could almost smell the smoke through her ship’s speakers.

“Ah, Saba,” He said with a wheeze. “You know me, can’t be tied down. But if I were to go for one of you gross, fleshy humans, you’re first on my list.”

“Every girl’s dream. Though really, Jay, being first hasn’t exactly done me any favours.”

“The Irixes still on your tail?”

She couldn’t help but tense her fists around the ship controls. She fought every instinct in her begging to turn around, to check no one was sneaking up on her. Rationally, she knew it was impossible for the Irixes to be on her ship, but it didn’t stop the slow wave of goosebumps washing over her skin.

“Yeah, yours isn’t the only list I’m top of.” She muttered, reworking her route to accomodate an approaching comet. “Hugo got life.”

“I heard. Took every lawyer within 20 systems to stop him getting a sunset. Well, that’s the business, ain’t it?” She heard Jay’s mandible’s click together over the line - his equivalent of a mother’s disappointed tut. “Lotta money in the Go’oran trade, but it’s a risky market and the competition’s killer.” This earned another laboured laugh, chuffed at his own joke. “Hugo’s top dog. They’ll be lost without him for a while.”

“And they’re channeling all that loss into finding my arse and roasting it on a spit.”

“Come on, Saba. That’s not their style. They’d much rather spaghettify you in a black hole.”

“Which is why I’m getting as far away from Keridian as I can.”

“This is what happens when you take jobs with the authorities. No protection, no thank you - just a lowballed cheque and lot of enemies. Never met anyone more crooked than a judge, I’ll tell you that much for free.”

“About the only thing you’d do for free.”

“I have something you might like.” His voice peaked in a tease, like a used ship salesmen slapping a claw on a vessel that wouldn’t even reach orbit.

“I’m lying low.”

She knew there was no point hinting with him. It wasn’t that he was daft. He’d pick up a hint, but he’d prefer to crush it between his pretty orange pincers than take it seriously.

“I know, but I’ve always said the best way to get over an old job is to pick up a new one.”

“We’re talking about one of the biggest crime families in the galaxy, Jay, not one of your exes.”

“Eh,” He offered in response, taking a long drag of the cigar. She knew he was rolling his head on his neck, unconvinced. “You want a job.”

“I want quiet.”

“Quiet’s boring. You want something that makes you curious.”

“Isn’t that what kills the cat?”

“I don’t know what that is.”

“Earth thing.”

“Ah.”

Her navigator flashed, warning her she was approaching the jump point.

“Look, Jay, I’m about to make a jump and I’m not calling you back.”

Jay clicked his mandibles again and voice became unusually sober.

“I need you to take this job, Saba. I don’t trust anyone else. Consider it the Favour.”

Sabine ground her teeth together and veered her ship off-course, pulling out of the high-trafficked bottleneck leading up to the jump point.

Jay wasn’t a good person but, really, neither was she. He was one of her first clients when she entered the trade and they quickly formed a profitable partnership. Sabine was good at getting information and Jay was good at using it. It wasn’t a question of morality - they’d both happily take money from the sinners and the saints - but there was an unspoken honour code to these things. Once you commit to a job, you finish it. And a favour is always repaid.

She put the ship into an idle orbit around a nearby moon and stood up. Pacing, she took groups of her braids and begun weaving them together into one large plait. She couldn’t speak. It was like she’d been caught snitching by the Moth-Ean cartel and had her jaw sealed shut.

“You still there?”

Sabine rubbed her eyebrows.

“I can’t believe you’re calling in the Favour. With the Irixes sending word to every contact in the Quadrant. I’d be surprised if my face wasn’t slapped on every Keridian bounty board available.”

“Stop acting like this is your first time in hot water. You want safe, Saba? I could’ve given you a job working tables at Blue Marine. The Irixes are no worse than the Tooras, or the Solaris Siblings, the Li Party, or any of the other targets you’ve had.”

Sabine sighed and shook her arms in an effort to rid them of the tickling nerves shivering within. He was right. This wasn’t the first time people had tried to intimidate her and stop her from working - if they killed her or chased her off, that’d be a win for them. She had to keep going like they didn’t scare the living shit out of her.

But, there were very few people as deadly as Hugo Irix. It’d taken more time, resources, and personal sacrifice than she’d like to admit to become a trusted member of his circle, learn the key nodes of the Irixes Go’oran trade network, and systematically turn them in with enough evidence to get Hugo a life sentence in maximum security.

The look she’d shared with him as she stepped up to testify….

“What’s the job?”

“There’s my Saba! I was afraid I’d lost her. Don’t worry, compared to Hugo, this is child’s play.”

Sabine doubted that. Knowing Jay, he wouldn’t use the Favour on something simple. He had a better eye for value than that. She didn’t interrupt him though and he kept going.

“And it’s far enough away from Keridian that the Irixes won’t follow you. They have very little presence.”

“Out of Quadrant?”

“Boundary. Have you ever been to the Quasar Cafe?”

***

Sabine approached the Reeka woman from across the adjusted bar, weaving past other mixed size gatherings. As she passed, she heard snippets of conversations, locking any interesting details away in case they became relevant later.

Mostly, the folk who occupied the mixed size bars wanted to keep their business to themselves. It wasn’t illegal, per se, to mix with other species of such varying sizes, but it definitely wasn’t the norm. The hushed chatter of business deals or awkward flirting floated around her like the gentle thrum of a ship engine.

There was the shabby business woman whose eyes never left her cradled glass as a large, brick wall of a Hexigal slid a black bag across the table with his pinky. It would take her both arms to lift it. As it was nudged, the bag squirmed but made no sound.

“As promised.” Grumbled the Hexigal. The woman neither moved nor spoke.

Then there was the over-confident human, teething a martini olive as the reptilian skin of the large Olura (nearly double his height) opposite him shifted from a deep blue to a brilliant chartreuse. A blush if Sabine could hazard a guess. Or, at least, close enough.

Next to the Reeka, a Zidirin (half Sabine’s height) and a Vojuk (5 times and then some) spoke in low tones over a game of mahjong. Seeing the familiar Earth game in a Boundary Bar half a galaxy away almost made her do a double-take. How did it get there? Where’d they learn it?

Despite the sea of curiosities that flooded the bar, the Reeka woman stood out, and not just because she was four times Sabine’s height. Reekas were a colourful and extravagant species. Jaunty, gaudy, vivacious. It was said Reeka weddings often ended in funerals when someone inevitably laughed, drunk, or danced themselves to death.

Sabine had never met one before. The few she’d seen were only in passing as they rarely ventured outside their territory. Her skin was a pale green and her hair a vibrant candyfloss pink. And despite the attention she garnered simply by existing, she was nervous.

Coy.

Her eyes, like polished peridot, kept glancing around - aware of everyone, focussing on none. Her long, slender fingers knotted themselves in the bright orange fabric of her skirt. She’d clearly come straight from work. The clash of orange and red fabric was harsh, even for the Cafe, and reminded Sabine of the uniforms diner waitresses used to wear in the 1950s.

She looked like a fresh hunt, unsure of the cage. Trusting neither the feeding hand, nor the whip. The patter of rain and the rattle of chains were, to her, equally menacing.

Sabine had met with a lot of informants before - blabber mouths who didn’t know the meaning of ‘relevant’ and the tight-lipped types who’d rather have their teeth pulled than give anything up. The opportunists, cowards, good Samaritans.

The ‘What’s in it for me's…

The ‘Maybe if I’d’s…

The ‘You didn’t hear it from me’s…

But for the most part, they looked like this. Baby giraffes on gangly legs, wide-eyed, wondering how everyone else can walk around normally when the ground was shifting beneath their feet.

Most people in the galaxy didn’t know how to turn on a stunner, let alone fire it. Most people couldn’t fly an interplanetary ship, let alone interstellar. Most people heard Hugo Irix’s name for the first time when he was arrested. They weren’t as tightly woven into the fabric as Sabine. The weren’t aware of the back rooms, back alleys, backstabbing.

This kind of informant both comforted and saddened her. Could she even remember a time when the universe shocked her with its real face?

She rolled her neck on her shoulders as she approached.

There was one part of this job which was different from the others. Her first Reeka. Her first… well, anyone this large.

In principle, the big folk handled the big folk. The same went for Sabine and her circles. People kept to their business, and that business only mingled in the most extraordinary circumstances.

Well, Jay, She thought. Consider me curious.

“Vivara?”

The Reeka’s head snapped up, both over-prepared for and surprised by the interruption. Though her gaze went too high - too used to meeting her own kind at eye-level. It took her a beat to realise the empty space ahead of her and adjust. She seemed, if only just, surprised by just how far her eyes had to travel before they landed on Sabine.

It didn’t matter that she was expecting a human, or that she was meeting a stranger at a Boundary Bar in the mixed section - she still looked surprised. She didn’t even attempt to hide her shock and fascination. Like her childhood doll had suddenly sprung to life and called her name.

She wasn’t alone. Much to Sabine’s own surprise, her skin began to buzz when their eyes met. While she’d dealt with larger folk - mostly walls of flesh valued for the way their arms resembled tree trunks - she could hardly call them ‘big’ now. Here, in a way that was entirely foreign, was a towering creature, both impressive and lithe. Powerful and delicate. Features refined and precise. She existed at scale that should be considered brutish, but there couldn’t be a word less apt. Under her rounded stare - innocent, fascinated, unsure - Sabine was hyper-aware of herself. To be swallowed whole in one glance left her feeling like she was naked with a cold wind tickling across her skin. An odd sensation to be sure, here at the back of an intimate, humid bar in a forgotten corner of the Galaxy.

She cleared her throat, pushing the feeling away with a shake of her head.

Focus.

“Sorry, I’m late.” She said as she sat opposite the Reeka, adjusting her jacket in a stolen moment to compose herself.

From her pocket, she produced a small, round device. It looked like a standard communicator, mid-range and unremarkable, but had been modded with far more sensitive microphones to record their conversation. She pressed a small, indiscernible button on the side and placed it on the table between them

She wasn’t late. She’d been at the bar since before Vivara arrived, tucked into a corner and watching to see if anyone was tailing her or if she truly was alone. Only when she was satisfied, did Sabine make herself known.

“The IH472A was a nightmare.” She continued. “But you know how the end of the week is.”

The Reeka woman didn’t say anything. Despite their difference in size, she seemed intimidated by Sabine - scattered and frozen like the shards of glass that stared back at you after taking a bat to a mirror. Not that Sabine knew anything about that.

It didn’t bother her, she knew how these things started. Now she was seated and ready to interview, she felt that initial buzz begin to fade to a dull, distant hum.

She met the large peridot eyes again and smiled her best smile, which Jay thought still needed work after all these years.

What the fuck is that, Saba? Are you trying to fuck me or kill me?

It wasn’t the first time he’d suggested mandibles would make her face more appealing.

I know a girl - very talented. She did Charley’s second pair. Unfortunately, she couldn’t do anything about Charley’s personality.

“I’m Sabine,” She said. “Thanks of meeting with me, Vivara. I know this all must be overwhelming.”

At the mention of her own name, Vivara’s green cheeks deepened in colour. It was as if it shook her from her trance and made her aware of how much she was staring. Her shoulders ever so slightly relaxed back onto her chair and she untwisted her fingers from her skirt to tuck a loose strange of pink hair behind her ear.

“Sorry,” She muttered, her voice lower than her pointed, elfin features suggested. “I’ve never been to a place like this.”

She gestured around her with jagged movements. From her jumpiness, her waitress uniform, and the neat curl of her pink hair, that was hardly a revelation. But she suspected there was more in the comment.

Sabine nodded. “That’s ok. I’ve been to enough Boundary Bars for the two of us.” Liar. “They’re aren’t as scary as they seem. Jay’s people chose the Quasar for your benefit more than anything else.”

She frowned. “Really?”

“Yes. They figured you would want a place where no one would recognise you, but that wouldn’t require you to leave Reeka territory.”

“I appreciate that. Can you imagine if people knew I was going to a Boundary Bar.” Vivara’s laugh was breathy, and the sound of it made Saba’s buzz spike. “I feel like I’m so out of my depth here. But if I went into your Quadrant, I don’t know if there would be anywhere I could even fit through the door. And if I could, where I wouldn’t be gawked at.”

There was a harmony in the way she spoke, a natural fluidity that took her from one word to the next. Sabine could see the version of her that existed prior to her being involved in this mess. Open. Free. Unburdened. She decided not to tell Vivara that even here, in the Quasar Cafe, where Reekas were regulars and mixed meetings were the norm, she still drew the attention of everyone present. Every now and then, the focus of the mahjong players on the neighbouring table was broken by a glance in her direction. She didn’t blame them, even Sabine had been shocked when she saw Vivara first arrive.

But it did make things difficult for Sabine. With everyone so aware of the beautiful Reeka in the room, either consciously or subconsciously, they’d be suspicious of why someone like her would be in a place like this. As she chipped away at the wall of strangerhood between them, Sabine worked through options. What legitimate reason would she have for being here? With her of all people.

“You’d be surprised.” She said. “The galaxy is much more diverse than you might think.”

“Are most people in your Quadrant as… - sorry, there’s no other word - small as you?”

For reasons unexplained, Sabine felt her blood go hot. There was something about that word, small, that brought the difference in size between them back to the forefront. She’d never been described as small before, being above average height for a human woman. She’d been called weak - even short by a few of the taller species - but never small. Small felt all-encompassing. An assessment. A metric of how little space she took up. Small could be dismissed with a flick of the wrist.

It set her jaw.

“You’ve definitely never been over the border have you?”

Vivara’s cheeks deepened again. “Sorry. No. I haven’t. I don’t really know what I’m meant to do here.”

Sabine rolled her head on her shoulders, enjoying the way the space between the vertebrae popped as she did.

“There’s no rush, we can start when and where you’re most comfortable.”

Saba read the files Jay sent through a few times when they arrived. This wasn’t even her first interview on the matter. Before arriving at the Qasar, she’d spoken to a few cursory people. But this was her most important.

Jay’s son, Jayron, had, without his father’s knowing, began dealing with a powerful Reeka crime syndicate, with the intent to establish his own Blue Marine in Reeka territory. However, before Jay could put a stop to it, Jayron disappeared.

His last known location? Back booth of a diner, served by the only waitress on shift - a green-skinned Reeka with bright pink hair.

Which is why they were there, meeting at the Quasar. Jay didn’t want a Reeka investigating, having little knowledge of their networks and who was on whose payroll. And he didn’t trust the authorities, particularly when it came to inter-quadrant cases.

“I don’t really know if I’ll be of any help.” Vivara rambled. “I didn’t even know anything was wrong until your friends contacted me.”

Saba’s lips twitched at the implication she and Jay’s network were just a group of friends. That she was there for any reason other than professional obligation. It was sweet - the kind of naivety she was always so hesitant to tarnish.

If she could be honest, Sabine never really liked Jayron. Where Jay’s over-confident irreverence painted him as a seasoned and savvy businessman, those same traits were brash and childish in his son.

“Let me be the judge of what is and isn’t relevant. All I need from you is what you remember.”

“Ok.” Vivara nodded. Then she frowned. “So, what are you? A bounty hunter? A private eye?”

“Sometimes.” Sabine shrugged. “I like to think myself as professionally curious.“

She paused. Behind Vivara, she noticed another Reeka walk past and sit himself down at a nearby table. He had bright orange skinned and blue hair, and when he glanced in their direction, his eyes were cerulean. They flicked between her and Vivara. There was a squint in his gaze and tension in his shoulders, and his fingers danced on the rim of his glass. He wasn’t, as some might assume on first inspection, here for leisure.

He was here for Vivara.

There you are.

She knew they’d send someone. Nothing like a Boundary Bar to make everyone think they’re more discrete than they actually are. That was the real reason for the Quasar - information. Some from Vivara herself, and the rest from what her presence would tease out, like mice from the walls.

The last thing she wanted was to make Vivara aware of anything that would make her even more nervous. Sabine’s priority was to diffuse suspicion and collect the information she needed without putting Vivara in any further danger.

In this instance, she had the advantage of anonymity. The Reeka networks didn’t know her name or face. They had no reason to suspect this was anything more than two people having a drink together.

Just then, a waitress walked past them and Sabine waved her down. She was another Reeka woman with deep blue skin and black hair. While her clothes were dark, her smile and demeanour were bright.

At her approach, Vivara’s eyes found the floor - as if she were embarrassed that another of her kind would find her in a place like this. Even though, to the waitress, they were the least interesting patrons she’d served that week, let alone that night. She worked the mixed section of a Boundary Bar between different sized territories, while striking, Vivara was far too vanilla to be anything more to this waitress than a passing thought.

“Welcome folks!” The waitress beamed. “Can I get you anything to start?”

Sabine smiled, “Just the house for me. Vivara?”

She looked over at her informant. The floor must have really taken her because it took Sabine repeating her name to get her attention. And even then, she seemed to refuse to meet the waitress’s eyes.

“Ummm, the same, I guess.”

“Easy!” The waitress said, unperturbed. “And how long have you two been together, if you don’t mind me asking?”

That got Vivara’s attention. Her head shot up, her face, neck and chest flushed a deep forest colour. But before she could protest, Sabine interjected.

“Actually, this is our first date.” She made a point of sending a coy look at Vivara. “A mutual friend set us up. And we picked the Quasar because… well, you know.”

Vivara couldn’t have looked more lost if she tried. The poor thing could only stare, embarrassed, as Sabine took charge of the conversation.

The waitress placed a hand on her chest as she cooed. “Of course, aren’t you lucky! I wish I had friends like that. Well,” She said with a knowing smile. “I’ll get your order sorted. Have a good night, girls. Sing out if you need anything.”

When she was well out of sight, Vivara leant across the table, her size more pronounced the closer she got and Sabine found herself leaning back and away despite herself. She could feel Vivara’s breath wash over her.

“Why’d you say that?” Her whisper was harsh and it sent an unfamiliar thrill through Sabine’s veins.

“What?”

“That we’re on a date!”

Sabine shrugged. “It’s always easiest to go with what people believe. Why would I waste the effort trying to conjure a new lie that would barely convince her. You’re so obviously nervous. You’d sweat less if you were trapped in a tin can on Venus - that’s a planet from my system.” She clarified when Vivara frowned. “-You can barely look me in the eye and you’re stammering through every sentence. And that’s normal.” Sabine added softly. “She thinks you’re acting like that because we’re on a date. Let’s roll with it. We’re on a date and you’re telling me a story.”

Vivara pursed her lips. “Usually my dates are taller.”

Sabine felt her eyebrows raise on their own accord. “And mine are more articulate.”

Vivara’s shoulders sagged.

“Sorry,” She said for the third time that evening and guilt wound it’s way around Sabine’s heart and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I’ll tell you everything.”

Sabine’s eyes stole a moment to glance at the shadowing Reeka man. He was typing into a communicator. She raised a hand to Vivara.

“Not yet. Let’s start again. We’re on a date.”

“Right. Yes. Wow, it’s been a while since I was last on a date.”

“You’re joking.” Sabine wasn’t even acting. Even if Vivara turned around and told her exactly where Jayron was and all the contacts involved with his disappearance, that at would be the second most surprising thing she could have revealed that night.

Sabine didn’t date often either. She told herself it was because she was busy, or that it was risky. That she didn’t want to bring innocent people into her world, and that the people in her world were too far gone to ever be in a healthy, trusting relationship. Scavengers and bottom-feeders don’t thrive in partnership. They always end up eating each other.

That was her experience at least. A couple of flings that either burned out pathetically or exploded in a violent supernova. And now, she could hardly claim to be the most appealing piece on the market with her back in the firing line of every Irix contact in the Quadrant. The few beds she was welcome in would turn her away now.

She couldn’t remember the last time she made someone blush. She could barely remember how. And she could hardly take credit for Vivara’s nervousness - for her flustered sentences, her dry-mouthed rambling, her fidgeting fingers. The darkness in her complexion and the avoidant gaze were far more attached to what Sabine did than anything to do with who she was.

That was fine. That was the life she chose. If choice was the word.

But Vivara? Was she falsely interpreting the stares of other patrons? Were Reekas just that otherworldly that Vivara’s smooth, lush skin, gemstone eyes, and bouncy fairy floss bob were just average?

Vivara shook her head. “No, I don’t date often.”

“I can relate.”

“I mean, I get a lot of… approaches.” Vivara clarified and Sabine smirked. “Particularly at work, but the kind of clients I get at the diner are hardly the kind of people you’d want to spend any time with.”

Ah, there it is.

The Reeka man was looking at them again. Sabine made a point of laughing, and began weaving her braids together, eyeing Vivara with intent.

Vivara, unaware of their observer, let out a breathy chuckle. She pressed her hands to her cheeks.

“Is it warm in here, or just me?”

“It’s warm.” Sabine smiled, granting Vivara escape from her own flushing cheeks.

“Ok, good.” Vivara fanned herself with her hands. “I was going to say, you usually have to work harder to get me to blush like this.”

At that moment, their waitress returned with two glasses of a clear spirit - one that fit in her hand and one she pinched between her fingers. Of all things, that’s what made Sabine’s palms go clammy.

“Here you go!” She beamed, placing the glasses in front of them with a wink. “You let me know if I can help out with anything else.”

“Thanks.” Sabine smiled and Vivara echoed it with a low mumble.

Any time she became aware of the crowd at the bar, Vivara closed up. Sabine couldn’t let that happen. She needed her to feel confident enough to speak.

She took a sip of the spirit. It was harsher than she was used to, burning the back of her tongue like she was swallowing lighter fluid. She did her best to hide it, but it made her eye twitch.

Vivara seemed to have no issue. She sipped at her glass as if it were water. She met Sabine’s eyes and laughed.

“Strong?”

Sabine coughed. She didn’t need to, but it did the trick. Vivara laughed harder, resting a gentle hand on her chest. The sound of it, the music, made Sabine’s tongue feel heavy.

“Much stronger than the stuff I’m used to.”

Vivara raised her eyebrows, “Really? I was about to say it’s a bit weak.”

“You’ve got to be joking.”

Vivara shook her head and her pink hair bounced around her shoulders. “No. What we serve at the diner is a lot more intense than this.”

“I think that would probably kill me.” Sabine muttered. Half of her meant it, wondering what kind of battery acid Reekas drank casually at a diner. The other half of her leaned into the hyperbole, itching for another hit of the Reeka’s laughter. She got it and with it, her whole body flooded with a warm hum - much faster than what anything in her glass would achieve.

“I can’t imagine you at the diner.” Vivara said. “This is strange enough.”

Sabine was too focussed to be offended by that. This was her in. Vivara was talking more openly, more naturally. Their conversation was so boring that any inquisitive ear would have turned away.

“Who do you usually see at work?”

Vivara’s expression became serious as she caught on. It wasn’t ideal, but Reekas weren’t known for their stoicism. All emotions were as easy to read as an alphabet picture book. Her brow settled lower over her eyes and she took a swig of her glass.

Her unoccupied hand returned to burying itself in knots in her skirt.

“It’s a busy place.” She started. “Loud. The tables are always full and we’re always understaffed. We get a mix too - families like it because kids eat cheap, lonely folks like to disappear in the noise, people come during their lunch break or after work. We’re open early until late.”

“Regulars, or mostly strangers?”

“Both. Definitely some I know by name, but also plenty I don’t.”

“And in the case of the night two weeks ago?”

Vivara shook her head. “They weren’t regulars, but they didn’t stand out either. They just struck me as normal businessmen. From the way they dressed, I assumed they were workers from a nearby office. Probably higher paid than most. I’ve been working at the diner long enough to know who will and won’t tip.”

“And this group looked like they would?”

Vivara rolled her eyes. “No. The richer they are, they less they tip and the more they expect you to perform. I knew as soon as they walked in that this group was going to be trouble.” She stopped, and bit her tongue. “But not trouble like -“ She waved her hand mostly in Sabine’s direction. “That.”

Sabine smirked. That. Could she blame Vivara for painting everyone associated with Jayron’s disappearance as that? Victim, perpetrators, investigators - they were all, in their own way, trouble.

“Gotcha.” She nodded. “Wealthy, put together. Enough to make you groan, but nothing to set your alarms off.”

Vivara nodded. “That was until I arrived at their booth to take their order, and I saw… well…”

“Jayron.”

“Yes. Though I didn’t know that was his name. When I said we usually serve a mix, I meant a mix of Reekas. It was the first time I’ve ever seen anyone from another species in person.”

Sabine had to make a concerted effort to stop her jaw from dropping.

“You’re not serious.”

“I am.” Vivara’s face flushed again. “I didn’t realise my life was so sheltered.”

Sabine whistled. “So, I must really be a freak of nature to you.” She laughed at Vivara’s appalled expression and waved down her building defence. “Only a joke. You’re doing great for a first timer.”

“Thank you.” Vivara said though she looked bashful, embarrassed by her own naïveté. “If I’d known other species were so pretty, I’d have ventured out sooner.”

Sabine felt her own face warm and suddenly her jacket felt too tight. She couldn’t stop her furrowed brow.

Vivara leant in closet and a tension curled in Sabine’s chest.

“We’re on a date, right?” The Reeka offered in explanation.

The tension released and Sabine let out a long breath. She admonished herself for the small twinge of disappointment she felt now knowing it was just part of the act.

Unaware of her own effect, Vivara continued her account.

“I was so rude when I saw him.” Vivara groaned. “I didn’t know what to do. I just stared. And the others at the booth seemed to think that was funny.”

At that moment, their waitress walked past their table. In response, Sabine made a show of leaning over and placing her hand lightly on Vivara’s. She laughed and pulled her braids over one shoulder.

“Oh my god!” She crooned. “That’s so funny. You have to tell me more about it!”

In the back of her head though, she hyper fixated on the smoothness beneath her fingers, the warmth. The size of the hand beneath her own. Every minute pulse and flinch was on display below her. She could feel them in intense detail.

Vivara stared down at the offending hand - at where the two strangers touched for the first time. The waitress passed and they both pulled their hands away.

Sabine’s gaze flicked to the orange Reeka man. He was, or at least pretending to be, distracted by a game on a high screen above the bar. A few patrons were equally captivated. By the sounds of the spectators, the local team was losing. Sabine didn’t recognise the sport - probably Reekan in origin - but she did recognise the way the man’s head flung back.

“Ummmm,” Vivara said, bringing Sabine back into focus. Vivara was still staring at the space where their hands had met. Her cheeks awash. “Sorry, I forgot what I was saying.”

Sabine smiled. “You saw Jayron for the first time. Can you tell me more about that? How did he look, what were they talking about, how many people were in the booth? Those kinds of details are really helpful.”

“He looked… well, it’s hard to tell because he’s so different. But I’d say he looked overwhelmed. Constantly looking at the others, but I don’t know if it was for reassurance or out of fear. He’s about half your size and he was sitting up on the table, which I don’t think he liked. I mean,” She gestured between the two of them. “At least here, there are mixed sections and we can sit here as equals. But at the diner, the power imbalance was scary and I wasn’t even part of it.”

“That’s probably why they picked the diner. Crowded, loud, full of a species so much bigger with no one else to relate to. They would’ve wanted to isolate him.”

Vivara shivered. “That’s so scary. They stopped talking when I approached and I must have looked so stupid! My usual waitress spiel died as soon as I saw him. Then one of the four men prods Jayron with a thick finger and says, I don’t think she likes our pet, Little Jay…and I laughed!” She buried her face in her hands. “It just came out of me. I laughed. He was in trouble and I just laughed.”

Sabine buried the feeling of secondhand humiliation. But it mingled with her exasperation. Of course Jayron had to pick a Reekan syndicate for his first grand venture. Of course the desperation to out-do his father led him well out of his depth. Led to him going missing. Led his father to getting involved. Led to her getting involved. Vivara getting involved. How long would that list get before he was found? If he was found. And, if he was, Sabine knew he’d just go off and do it again. The cycle would start over.

And beneath all of that, there was her sadness for Jay, who knew his son didn’t have the gumption to take on his empire, and yet encouraged him to dream.

Behind Vivara, the Reeka man sipped his drink and watched the game. Then he paused mid-sip when his communicator flashed. He returned the glass to the table and inspected the new message. After a moment, he began typing furiously.

Once, and so briefly you could argue it didn’t happen, cerulean met obsidian and then both glanced away.

Fuck.

“It’s ok.” She said to Vivara, identifying the easy exits she’d scouted when she first arrived. As always, she had back-ups for the back-ups. “It’s a normal reaction to laugh when we’re stressed. Maybe part of you knew something was amiss, and for your own safety, you played along.”

Vivara glanced up from her palms. Her shoulders relaxed and she nodded, almost desperate for the out Sabine offered. “Yeah. Maybe that was it. I think I suspected something. All conversation died when I came to the table again with their orders but later, I heard more of what they were discussing.” She chewed her cheek. “I don’t usually make a habit of eavesdropping, but for some reason - nosiness, fascination, or fear - I was paying extra attention to whatever I could catch whenever I walked by.”

Sabine nodded, she found herself pulling in closer. This would be the lead. Maybe here would be something she could work with.

“And?”

Vivara took her glass and downed the rest of her drink in a way that would surely burn a hole in Sabine’s throat if she were to do the same.

“It was only snippets.”

“It usually is.” Sabine said, there was an anticipation curling and writhing in her stomach.

“I heard just a few phrases in passing. I remember ’next shipment’, ‘Florean Sector’, ‘Marcho Galvoni’, and ‘each pretty pincer’. But I don’t know if that’s helpful?”

Sabine steepled her fingers and pressed them to her lips. She nodded, committing the snippets to memory. She knew she had the communicator recording everything, but trusted her brain better.

Next shipment.

Florean Sector.

Marcho Galvoni.

Each pretty pincer.

They weren’t answers, but it was enough. She’d worked with less before.

Jayron, you fucking idiot.

“And when they left,” Vivara continued. “I didn’t see Jayron. I remember, despite the rush, looking for him as they left and being confused. But then,” She shrugged. “I didn’t see him when they entered, and the cafe was busy.”

Sabine frowned. “Did they have any bags with them?”

Vivara’s eyes widened like an angel first encountering sin. “Oh yes, they did. I remember. Just a brief case.”

“Would it have..?” She left the question unfinished. Vivara was already nodding.

“I think so.”

“And their colouring? The men in the booth?”

Vivara frowned, and for a second Sabine wondered if there was a better way to phrase that question. Vivara didn’t correct her, but that didn’t mean much.

“One had a deep red complexion and neon yellow hair. Another two were so similar I’m sure if they weren’t twins, they were at least siblings - pale blue skin, mustard hair. But the one who was doing most of the talking was all white - skin, hair, eyes. He was mean - cruel. I struggled to look him in the eye.”

What does that make me? Sabine thought as she could count the few times during their conversation Vivara had actually met her gaze.

She noted the descriptions. This last seemed unique enough for a Reeka that she could get a lead or two. But before she could follow-up, the shadowing man stood from his table, drained his glass, grabbed his communicator and began walking toward their table. She froze and admonished herself when Vivara noticed.

“What?” She frowned, beginning to look around.

“It’s nothing.” Sabine lied.

But then ‘nothing’ stopped beside Vivara at the mixed bar. The two of them together were an impressive sight - all-encompassingly large, dominating her entire view with their bright, saturated colours.

Noticing his presence, Vivara seized. Her whole body when rigid and her gaze once more returned to the floor. Her green face was ashen and Sabine thought she might faint.

But, despite Sabine’s assumption about their shadow, he paid Vivara no mind. Instead, his bright sea-blue eyes bore into Sabine in a way that sent an electric bolt through her nerves and left them sizzling like powerlines in the rain. Now, more than any time before, she was aware of the difference between them - the sheer gap in size, strength, presence. If she were to be cornered by him, there would be little she could do.

She didn’t recognise him but the look in his eye was knowing, which unnerved her even more. She was well-known in some circles. Mostly in circles where being well known did more harm than good.

“Sabine Ducote?” He asked and she didn’t grace him with a reply, simply opting to maintain his stare. If he knew her name and face, this was just performance.  “I thought it was you, but had to check with a few contacts to confirm.”

Vivara’s pink curls bounced as her head swung frantically between the two and their silent standoff.

“What’s happening?” Her voice was rising in urgency.

The Reeka man placed a gentle but firm hand on Vivara’s back, making the larger girl freeze. Her eyes when to Sabine’s with some silent plea for comfort. Assurance. Sabine wondered if this was what Jayron looked like at the diner.

“Don’t worry.” She said and knew it was unhelpful. She wasn’t willing to give anything away yet.

“I agree.” The man smiled. His hand still lingered on Vivara’s shoulder and the Reeka woman’s expression was as if she thought it would leave a stain. “You have no need to worry, love. Your girlfriend though?” He smirked down at Sabine who, was calculating whether reaching for her communicator or her stunner first would be wiser. “Well, see for yourself.”

He placed his communicator on the bar between them. It was huge next to Sabine’s own and what she saw on it made her feel as if all her bones had suddenly dissolved - that she’d flop onto the floor to be mopped up by the waitress later.

There, on the display, was her face - her white, thin braids, her dark skin, the scar across her nose. It was a candid photo but she couldn’t place where it was taken. It was too zoomed in to gauge any location. What she did recognise was the Irix sigil stamped in the upper left corner of the photo.

Bounty brand.

Across the bottom of the photo was her name. Another instance where the Hugo prosecutor’s screwed her over. Instead of using her case alias, they, in front of Hugo, called her to the stand by her full name.

She swallowed when she saw ‘PRICE NEGOTIABLE’ underneath her name. Open priced bounties were beyond rare. This would send every money hungry hunter in the Galaxy after her, even well outside Keridian territory.

“Hugo sends his regards.” The Reeka man grinned.

But before his hands could move to the stunner tucked under his coat, she had hers drawn and ready. One quick pull and there was a pretty new red freckle between his surprised brows. His cerulean eyes rolled and as his body crumpled to the floor, his hand slid off Vivara’s shoulders, causing the larger girl to shriek.

Around the bar, all eyes turned to them and Sabine sighed. Her heart pounded. She was in deeper shit than she or Jay could have ever imagined. As patrons began to stir, uncovering the cause of the interruption, Sabine snatched her communicator and quickly deleted the bounty message from the Reeka’s.

“What’s happening?” Vivara’s voice was wavering and panicked.

Sabine looked at her and peridot clung to her gaze desperately. Her chest aches at the sight. She didn’t have time to explain. Their Reeka shadow knew nothing of Jayron business as Sabine assumed, but was instead there for her - for the mess Vivara had nothing to do with.

For reasons she couldn’t explain, she reached over and stole a precious second to place a sure hand on Vivara’s again.

“I’m sorry.” She said, and meant it. “Thank you for everything. I hope you never have to see me again.”

And then she bolted, leaving Vivara in a stunned silence as fellow patrons and staff of the Quasar swarmed around her. They were intrigued more than anything, and did not share Vivara’s horror at the lifeless form beside her. It was, after all, a boundary bar.

As she ran towards the closest exit, Sabine heard their waitress tut her tongue to a couple she was serving.

“Been there.” She said.

Sabine didn’t have time to think about anything except getting as far away from the Quasar Cafe as possible.

Though lingering in the back of her mind was a stupid thought she couldn’t quite shake.

All things considered, not a bad date.

______________________________________________________________

(@biggnansmol - thank you so much for donating! I'm sorry it's been a while coming. I hope you enjoyed xx

I loved this prompt and wanted to put a different spin on it. And let's be real, if it's a story by me it will have two key components: awkward gay flirting and batshit insanity. And added bonus if it's in space.

I had so much fun with this one. Someone sent me an ask recently about there not being enough wlw stories in GT - happy to make another contribution with these girls.

-ray xx)

[starlightkun]

❧ word count: 19.4k ❧ warnings: cursing, graphic description of blood and blood drinking (you know, vampire stuff), graphic description of neck biting so if that’s your no-go zone it’s time to make a decision here, mentions of death and dying (in the context of vampires) ❧ genre: fluff, modern magical creatures au, fantasy au, college au, vampire kun, human reader, ft. various other magical weishens, “uh-oh one of us drank a love potion” trope but with a twist, same universe as strawberry sunday ❧ extra info: this work is set in the same universe as strawberry sunday but can be read as a standalone! there is no continuing plotline between fics in this universe, they simply take place in the same world/magic system and may have overlapping characters (neos may pop up in more than one work!) ❧ author’s note: omg omg i’m so excited to not only debut vampire kun but to begin expanding the strawberry sunday universe! enjoy! ❧ sequel

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ explore the strawberry sunday universe more here!

“Did I just drink a goddamn love potion? What the fuck were you planning on doing with a love potion, exactly, anyway?”

“We were supposed to bring them in to test their properties in the lab. And it’s not just a love potion... That already exists, I wanted to take mine to the next level. That’s why Kun’s here.”

“I just don’t get this one,” Kunhang sighed, tapping his pencil against his laptop.

He shifted in place on his bed, reaching behind him to scratch at the middle of his back. You were sitting at his desk chair, going over review questions for your Calculus test tomorrow. Your friend kept itching at his back, and you spun around, putting your notebook and pencil down on the desk.

“I think we need a break, Kunhang. You look like you need to preen,” you declared, standing up and stretching.

“Yeah,” his nose scrunched up as he set his computer aside to get at his back and shoulders with two hands.

“I’m going to get something to drink. You want anything while I’m up?”

“No, I’m good. Thanks, Y/N.”

In Kunhang’s kitchen, you downed a cup of water first. Knowing that the gryphon would be taking some time to preen his wing and shoulder feathers, you opened the fridge to see if you could find anything good. It was barren, it didn’t seem like he nor his witch roommate Yangyang had gone grocery shopping recently. The door held mostly condiments, however you did spot a couple bottles of blue and red Gorgonade. The seal on the red sports drink was cracked, but it looked completely full. You didn’t mind drinking it if your friend had only taken a sip or two. After all, red was your favorite.

Carrying it back over towards his room, you called out down the hall, “Kunhang!”

“Eh?” His response was muffled through presumably a mouthful of feathers.

“Is this your red Gorgonade?”

“Huh?”

“Gorgonade! Can I drink?”

“Have whatever you want!”

“Thanks!”

You wandered around the living room, stretching your legs as you took your first sip. It didn’t taste like the red sports drink normally did. It had a more… earthy taste to it. Still slightly sweet, and a bit rich. But definitely not the normal fruity and saccharine flavor. Looking closer at the label, it definitely said Fruit Punch. You inspected the expiration date next. Nope, definitely well within that, by over a year.

Wondering if you had tasted it right, you took another sip, staring hard at the words ‘Fruit Punch’ on the label. No, still tasted a bit off. Holding the bottle up to the sunlight streaming in through the living room window, you saw that the color wasn’t quite right either, a darker red than normal. Kunhang must have left the bottle open in the fridge for too long and it went a bit off.

You were half done with the bottle by the time you heard Kunhang yelling from his bedroom. Figuring that it was him telling you he was done, you walked back over.

He was readjusting his shirt and fixing his hair as you walked in, looking much more refreshed now. You picked up a stray grey feather that was on the desk chair and tossed it in the trashcan with the others before sitting down.

“Where’d you get that?” He nodded at the bottle as you took another swig from it.

You tilted your head in confusion, “Uh, your fridge?”

“Must’ve been Yang’s,” the gryphon shrugged. “I thought you had found the blue one that’s in there.”

“Oh shit,” you looked down at the mostly empty bottle, feeling guilty now.

“He’ll live.”

A bit ashamed, you finished off the drink and set the empty container down on the desk.

You two had gotten through only a couple more review questions before the door to Kunhang’s room was thrown open, a wild-eyed, disheveled, crazed Yangyang bursting in.

“Have you seen my—” His eyes bugged out of his head when they landed on the empty bottle next to you. He looked between you and Kunhang frantically. “Which one of you drank that?”

You immediately went to apologize, a bit alarmed at how invested he seemed in this drink, “That was me, Yangyang. I’m sorry, I thought it was Kunhang’s. Look, I’ll buy you another.”

The witch winced, looking over his shoulder at something in the hallway. Another figure entered the room then, who you recognized somewhat. You knew of Qian Kun through mutual friends, he attended classes at your campus too, in addition to being a several-century-old vampire. Though you’d never asked, he looked as though he’d been turned in his mid to late twenties, but that presumably didn’t matter much once you’d been around for centuries on end.

Kun’s hands were tucked into the pockets of his crisp dress pants as he seemed to be appraising you. Despite being a student, the couple of times you’d seen him in passing, he had been dressed more like a professor than most of your professors. Today he was in a pair of black slacks and black knit sweater with a white collared dress shirt underneath.

You and Kunhang exchanged bewildered looks before the gryphon finally spoke up.

“Yangyang, what the hell’s going on?”

“Uhm…” Yangyang ran a hand through his hair anxiously. “How- How are you, Y/N? You know, we never hang out—”

“Yangyang!” You cut him off. “Did you do something to that Gorgonade?”

“Well, no…” He refused to meet your eyes, explaining to the floor. “Becauseitwasn’tGorgonade.”

You looked at him incredulously. “What the hell did I fucking drink, then?”

“Well, you see, I had this assignment in my Magical Botany II class, and one of the options was to create a botanical blend incorporating a magical plant we studied this semester. I’m a witch, so, easy A, duh.”

“Are you telling me I just drank a fucking potion?”

“Botanical blend!”

“Why would you put a potion in a fucking Gorgonade bottle?”

“Botanical blend!”

“Put it in a weird little vial with a ‘DO NOT DRINK: POTION’ label on it or something! What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

“I ran out of glass jars last month! I’ve been meaning to run to the apothecary…”

“So you used a Gorgonade bottle?”

Kunhang cut in then, “Yangyang, what kind of potion was it? You said you had to create it; do you even know what it’s going to do to Y/N?”

“Well, I chose the lover’s embrace blossom as my plant.”

“Lover’s embrace…” you sighed, the vine immediately coming to mind. Mature plants bloomed flowers whose pollen would intoxicate those who breathed it in so they wouldn’t struggle while the vines ensnared them. You imagined it was exactly that pollen that the witch used. “Did I just drink a goddamn love potion? What the fuck were you planning on doing with a love potion, exactly, anyway?”

“We were supposed to bring them in to test their properties in the lab. And it’s not just a love potion... That already exists, I wanted to take mine to the next level. That’s why Kun’s here.”

The three of you finally looked over at the vampire again. He stared back at you, his deep red eyes feeling like they were piercing your very soul. You had to look away, back at Yangyang.

“The love potion is attuned specifically to him, theoretically. Vampires metabolize things so much faster, so their blood may make the effects more powerful, but it should burn right through you super fast, Y/N!” Yangyang tried to put a positive spin on it for you, but your jaw dropped in horror.

“I drank his blood?!” You screeched, your hand flying up to your mouth. It took everything in you to hold back gags at the thought.

“Just a couple drops, just a couple drops!” The witch tried very hard to backpedal.

Kunhang looked between you and Kun. “How long should it take to kick in, Yangyang?”

“Like five minutes.”

“And when did you drink that, Y/N?”

“An hour ago,” you informed him, the same realization seeming to dawn on the both of you.

“And… do you feel any different about Kun than before today?”

You looked at the vampire, feeling almost sheepish as you had to shake your head. Sure, the guy was attractive, but you definitely weren’t magically in love with him all of a sudden.

“No, I feel fine. Normal,” you clarified, turning to the witch. Giving Yangyang a shrug, you didn’t feel all that sorry as you told him, “Maybe your potion sucks.”

“No, it should definitely work!” Yangyang replied indignantly.

“Well I don’t feel anything!” You reiterated. “So congrats on your F, Yangyang!”

The witch huffed, brows furrowing as he looked you over. “Yeah, you’re not acting any different. What the fuck happened?”

“If that’s all, can you get the hell out?” Kunhang requested frankly. “We’re trying to study.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Yangyang sighed. He turned back to the vampire, pointing to the exit dramatically, “Back to the drawing board, Kun!”

Kun still hadn’t moved from his spot as Yangyang was mostly out of the room, then popped his head back in.

“Y/N, you’ll tell me if anything changes, right?”

“I promise, you will be the first to know if your potion did anything weird to me,” you nodded firmly. “I will personally come over here and beat your ass for it.”

“I was thinking like a text or a phone call, but that works too I guess.” Yangyang gave you a thumbs up before disappearing from the room.

You held Kun’s gaze for an awkward moment, unsure why he was still here. Maybe you should apologize?

“Kun!” Yangyang called for him again, and the vampire finally looked away from you, walking out of Kunhang’s bedroom.

It was dark out when you eventually left Kunhang’s apartment, the review guide completed, and your brain just a little fried from all that math. With your backpack slung over your shoulder, and keys in hand, you took off down the sidewalk for the short walk back to your own home.

“Y/N.” A voice suddenly saying your name from right beside you made you jump out of your skin.

“Oh, shit!” You exclaimed, clutching a hand to your chest. When you whipped around to see that it belonged to a familiar face, you took a deep breath before greeting him. “Uh, hi, Kun.”

He remained quiet.

You kept talking, adjusting your bag strap on your shoulder to calm yourself down, “Sorry about all that back in Kunhang and Yangyang’s apartment, by the way. I know it was stupid of me to drink something in a witch’s fridge that tasted off. That part was on me.”

“Are you walking home?” He questioned, focus rather intense on you.

“Yeah, my apartment isn’t far.” You gestured in the vague direction of it.

A deep frown etched itself into his features, “By yourself? It’s rather late.”

“I know! What if another vampire sneaks up on me?” You gasped teasingly.

“Will you let me walk you home? Please?”

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Oh, uh, sure. Thanks.”

The two of you walked side by side in silence. You shifted your bookbag from one shoulder to the other when your muscles got tired.

“Is that heavy?” Kun asked.

“I mean, kind of? My laptop’s in there, and a couple notebooks; Kunhang and I were doing this review packet for a Calc test,” you explained.

“I can carry it for you.” He held a hand out expectantly.

“Oh, you really don’t have to.”

“I want to.”

“Uhm… okay.” You pulled the bag off your shoulder and handed it to him by the strap. Honestly, you wouldn’t be too terribly surprised if he ran off with it. Him robbing you seemed about as likely as him randomly offering to walk you home and carry your bag for you.

Kun effortlessly slipped the bookbag on. It looked out of place against his slacks and dress shirt/sweater combo, especially with your multiple cute character keychains that you had attached to the zipper.

He dutifully carried it all the way to your front door for you, where you gratefully took it back. You were very excited for tonight to be over. Between studying, the potion debacle, and now this incredibly awkward interaction, diving headfirst into your bed sounded like exactly what you needed.

“Thank you, Kun, I’m just going to—” You cut yourself off when you were finally able to see his face clearly in the security light outside your apartment door. His crimson irises were nearly gone, entirely swallowed by inky pupils, and he was pulling at his shirt almost as if he were fanning himself to cool down. “Oh my god, Kun, are you okay? Your pupils are… blown. I’d check your temperature, but I don’t think vampires can run a fever, can you?”

“I… I’m…” He didn’t even finish his sentence, biting down on his bottom lip, and holding up a finger in a gesture for you to wait a moment.

You didn’t know too much about vampires, nor whatever ailments they could possibly get afflicted with, but you did know somebody who probably would. Bringing your phone out from your pocket, you started flicking through your contacts list, “I feel like I should call Renjun. He’s a Magical Creatures Studies major. Uhm, he was able to figure out why Dejun stopped producing fire for a weird two weeks last year. He might be able to help. Here, let me—”

“No, I’m fine. I know what it is.”

“Oh. That’s good. What is it? Is there anything I can do?”

Kun straightened back up, hand going to smooth out the wrinkles in his sweater that he’d caused by pulling it at. “I believe Yangyang’s love potion was successful in a way he did not intend.”

“Kun, seriously, I don’t feel any—”

“I do.” He cut you off sternly, focusing his darkened eyes on yours.

“You…” You breathed out, eyes widening.

“I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, I apologize.” He bowed his head. “I tried to control it as best as I could. But yes, I suddenly started experiencing extremely strong romantic feelings for you earlier tonight.”

“O-Oh.”

“I should go, I’ve seen you home safely.”

“Right, uhm, goodnight, Kun,” you nodded to him, too stunned to say much else.

You clenched your jaw not to make a noise of surprise when he picked up one of your hands with his much colder one. He bent over nearly ninety degrees to press a feather-light to the back of your hand. If you had a free hand, you would’ve pinched yourself to make sure you weren’t dreaming yourself into a rom-com right now.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he gently let go of your hand before taking a step back from you.

After fumbling to unlock your door, you practically ran inside. Oh, you were going to kill Yangyang.

Unfortunately, you couldn’t immediately start your literal witch hunt the next day, as you had to take your Calculus exam. In fact, you had mostly forgotten your dilemma as you walked out of your classroom with Kunhang and Dejun, another friend of yours.

“How are you feeling, by the way, Y/N?” Kunhang checked in with you, pressing the back of his hand to your forehead. “No sudden urge to dicked down by a va—”

You elbowed him in the side, sending him stumbling off in one direction as he cackled. “I’m fine, thanks for your concern.”

“What is he talking about?” Dejun raised an eyebrow, his slit pupils flicking between the two of you curiously.

“You really should’ve come to the study session last night, Dejun.” Kunhang jumped to relay the story to the dragon.

Dejun had the decency not to full-on laugh at you, but you did see a couple puffs of smoke come out of his nose as he tried to hold back his chuckles. “Yangyang needs to store his potions more responsibly.”

“Thank you!” You cried out, feeling vindicated.

“It seriously didn’t work at all? I mean, I don’t know what else was in there, but lover’s embrace pollen and vampire blood… sure sounds like it should’ve done something,” he mused aloud.

And that was when you sighed, “Well… it didn’t work on me.”

“And what does that mean?” Kunhang cocked his head to the side.

“Kun caught up to me after I left your apartment last night,” you confessed with a wince. “Somehow he’s the one that’s suddenly in love with me.”

“What?!” Kunhang grabbed your shoulder and shook you with equal amounts of disbelief and delight.

You swatted him away, “I don’t know! But I’m going to find Yangyang and see what the little twerp has to say for himself.”

“He should be getting out of Bot II in ten minutes.” Dejun pointed to a building off to your right. “Try to leave him in one piece, Y/N.”

“No promises.”

Kunhang and Dejun both had other classes to get to, leaving you to wait in front of the Earth Sciences building alone, arms crossed and foot tapping impatiently.

“Y/N, hello.”

You spun around on your heel at the familiar voice, now face to face with deep red eyes and dark brown hair.

“Hey, Kun,” you greeted him. He didn’t seem as… unwell as last night. His crisp white button up was tucked neatly into his dark brown dress pants, and for a brief moment you wondered if he even owned casual clothes. Small gold earrings dangled from his lobes, glinting as they caught the dappled sunlight streaming in through the leaves above you.

Feeling hopeful, you asked, “So… how are you feeling?”

“Much better, thank you for asking.” He kept his gaze on you as the two of you conversed. “I’m not, uhm, feverish anymore.”

“Oh, good,” you breathed a sigh of relief. So everything was back to normal then.

“I wanted to give you this.” In his hand was a folded piece of paper, and you accepted it from him curiously. It was crisp, fine quality, with a nice texture that you could feel as your fingers ran along the edges to unfold it.

Your eyes widened as you realized that he had just handed you a poem—a rather good one, if you were to be honest—written in an elegant script. After another quick skim just to make sure your reading comprehension was up to par, you knew that he didn’t just want your feedback on an assignment for class or something. This was a sonnet, if your recollection of your literature class from last semester was any good, about you. For you.

You looked up from the paper to Kun, offering him a nervous smile. “This is… really good, Kun. Uhm, are you busy right now?”

“I have another class in thirty minutes.”

“I’m waiting for Yangyang to get out of his class. He should be out any second. I think we should both talk to him.”

Kun nodded, tucking his hands into the pockets of his slacks. You folded the paper back up and tucked it into a folder in your backpack.

Eventually, a new rush of students began streaming out of the doors, and you scanned the crowd for Yangyang.

As soon as you spotted him towards the back, you hurried over to head him off. “Liu Yangyang!”

“Oh, Y/N! And Kun…” He looked up from his phone at you two, clearly surprised. “Is everything okay?”

“No.” You crossed your arms. “Do you have somewhere to be?”

“Oceanography in an hour. Why? Are you alright?”

Latching onto his forearm, you dragged him over to a more secluded spot of campus, Kun following behind. You relayed all the facts to the witch as quickly as possible, watching as he turned from confused to shocked.

“So it did work!” Yangyang declared brightly.

“Hey! Focus!” You said sternly. “You said that the vampire blood means it should burn up really quickly, right? So Kun’ll be back to normal soon?”

He scratched the back of his neck nervously. “If it was going to be a quick burn, it would have been over already.”

“Excuse me?”

“Kun’s the subject but you’re the vector—”

“Don’t call me that, it makes me sound like I gave him malaria or something.”

“I think—emphasis on think—that this is a two-factor potion.”

“A what?”

“Kun’s blood is doing two things: made it so that it’ll affect him, and by happenstance of him being a vampire, it makes it more powerful. And you drinking it does two things as well: since you drank it, you’re now the target of his affection, and because you’re a human, the potion itself is working through you, and humans metabolize that stuff much slower than say, a vampire.”

“So it’s supercharged and—relatively—super long lasting?”

“Is my guess.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, muttering under your breath, “Can this get any worse?”

Yangyang breathed in through his teeth, a rueful hissing sound. “Well—”

“Oh my god, that was supposed to be rhetorical, it does get worse?”

“It probably won’t even be an issue, Kun’s super old.”

“What does that even mean, Yangyang?”

“Well, younger vampires have a difficult time controlling how much they feed because all kinds of want sort of feel the same to them. Hunger, thirst, jealousy, attraction…”

“I’m living a fucking Twilight novel...” You threw your hands up, then pointed threateningly at him. “I am absolutely going to kick your ass.”

Yangyang held his hands up in front of him defensively, starting to back away from you, “But Kun’s hundreds of years old, so that’s totally not gonna be a problem! Right, Kun?”

Finally, you looked back over to the vampire, who had been silent through this entire confrontation.

“I don’t even live feed anymore,” Kun confirmed. “Y/N, I would never hurt you.”

You knew what he meant. There were other options for vampires now besides drinking blood from a live source, donor bags or synthetic blood replacements. To your understanding, vampires were fairly divided when it came to which they preferred—if they even had a preference at all, some didn’t care as long as they were fed, to those ones it was really whatever was cheapest and easiest at the time.

“Of course, Kun.” You nodded in understanding.

When you turned to give Yangyang one last piece of your mind, the witch was nowhere to be seen. He’d run off while you were distracted. How very mature.

“Alright, well, I’ve uh,” you checked the time on your phone. “I’ve got another class to get to. So, see you.”

“Can I walk you there?”

You had just spun on your heel to leave when he asked that, and it took everything in you not to show your ‘drats!’ expression on your face when you twisted back around to talk to give him some excuse. “Sorry, Kun, I really need to call my mom on the way there. I forgot to on my way to class this morning.”

“Oh.” His face fell, making you wince. It was sweet, but you knew that he was under the effects of a love potion, so really what was the point of entertaining any of this if it was all against his will? If at the end of all of this he would go back to feeling literally no specific way about you? And you’d look like the weirdo for indulging in it.

To his credit, he accepted your (bullshit) reason easily. “Of course, you should call your mother. I’ll see you sometime after class, maybe, then.”

“Maybe, yeah.” You wanted to slap yourself as soon as the words were out of your mouth. But it got you out of there quickly, as he seemed to like this answer, giving you half a smile, nodding, and not saying anything more as you took off towards the building that housed your next class. You were going to be about forty minutes early for it, but it was better than staying out there with Kunspeare at the moment.

Walking into the student union building after your second class, you meandered around until you finally spotted three familiar heads at a table in a far corner of the third floor. You plopped down into the open seat beside Ten.

“Were you guys hiding from me or something?” You scoffed, snatching a fry from Kunhang’s plate in front of you.

“Yeah, because I was hoping to eat all my own food this time,” the gryphon rolled his eyes, but made no move to stop you as you took another fry.

The siren beside you was drawing in one of his many sketchbooks—he was an art major—and you peered over his shoulder to see what he was working on. The whole spread was filled with pencil sketches at various stages of completion, angles, and facial expressions of what seemed like your entire little friend group: you, Kunhang, Dejun, Yangyang, and the final creature that was sitting at your table now, Sicheng.

Sicheng’s fiery orange and yellow eyes looked at you analytically as the phoenix sipped on his fountain drink. He set it down to look at you with a cocked head, curious. “Why were you so late, Y/N?”

“I had to make sure the coast was clear.”

“Oh, do you have a little bloodsucking stalker?” Kunhang asked in understanding.

“He’s not stalking me, he’s been very unfortunately, unconsentingly—on both our parts—put under the effects of a love potion. I don’t fault him for that, okay?”

Ten and Sicheng exchanged bewildered looks.

“God, Kunhang, did you not already tell them? I thought you would’ve gone around blabbing this hilarious story to everyone we know by now!” You snipped at him, dreading the thought of having to relive the mortification of retelling the events of last night over again.

“I’m sorry, did you want me to?” He bickered back without missing a beat. “I’ll go get on the PA system right now.”

You shot him a glare before delving into the gist of it yourself. “Long story short, last night I was over at Kunhang and Yangyang’s. Qian Kun was there too, Yangyang’s vampire… friend? Acquaintance? Anyway, Yangyang made a love potion and like an idiot, put it in their fridge in a Gorgonade bottle then left it unattended. I accidentally drank it, and now Kun is in love with me because his blood was in the potion.”

Their jaws dropped in unison.

“Uhm—” Sicheng didn’t seem to know where he was going with that, scratching the back of his head before picking his soda back up.

“Anyway, this man has gone like full 18th-century courting or whatever on me.” You held your head in your hands, replaying the moment of him handing you the poem in your mind.

“And they say chivalry is dead,” Kunhang pretended to swoon.

“Haha, you should do stand-up,” you said sarcastically. “Seriously, what am I supposed to say when he hands me a goddamn sonnet? ‘Thanks, sick poem, bestie?’”

“He wrote you a sonnet? Where is it? Can I read it?”

“I would sooner let Ten drown me than let you read a sonnet that…” you sighed, your voice getting smaller and smaller with each word, “describes the shape of my lips.”

You shuddered at the thought of your friend ever laying eyes upon something like that. He would never let you live it down.

“Aw come on Y/N!”

“Too late, I already burned it!” You stuck your tongue out at Kunhang, who just did it right back.

“Have you given him anything, Y/N?” Ten spoke up, setting his pencil down.

“I am not writing him a sonnet, Ten.”

“I don’t mean like that. I mean, have you done any sort of reciprocity? Given him any information about yourself? Engaged with him, genuinely, on any level at all?” He paused then, and you slowly shook your head. Your friend’s ocean blue scales shimmered just beneath the skin of his cheekbones as he turned in his seat to face you, reflective gold eyes focused on you. “Look, I know he’s under the love potion and you’re not, and I’m not saying you have to treat these as sincere romantic advances from him. But maybe try to approach them at least as genuine opportunities for human connection. Or, human-vampire connection. You know what I mean.”

You scrunched your nose up thoughtfully. “I haven’t really thought about it like that. Huh...”

“I think if you at least give him a little nudge about the stuff that you do like, he’ll stop writing you sonnets.”

“Yeah, I mean, he’s just going to keep courting you for the duration of the potion, Y/N, whether you want him to or not. Might as well get a car out of it or something,” Kunhang suggested through a mouthful of fries.

“I am not going to exploit him like that!” You scoffed. “And swallow before you talk! You’re going to get gross food bits on me!”

Sicheng wordlessly handed Kunhang a napkin.

After your last class of the day, you stopped at the top of the stairs of the Math and Computer Sciences building. If Kun didn’t mysteriously show up now, you figured you could easily get his number from Kunhang or Yangyang—though that would be inviting a whole slew of other issues.

But you didn’t have to worry about that. Just as you thought, you spotted Kun approaching from the direction of the Literature, Writing, and History building. To be absolutely certain, you waved at him, and he lifted a hand back, putting on a slight burst of speed. You walked down the steps to meet him at the bottom.

“Hello, Y/N,” he greeted you as he finally stopped in front of you.

“Hi, Kun,” you offered him a smile. “How are you?”

“I’m well, thank you. How are you?”

“I’m good, I’m good.”

“Did you just finish class?”

“Yeah, Number Theory. What about you?”

“Contemporary Creative Non-Fiction. Are you a mathematics major?”

You nodded. “Unfortunately. Thinking about switching. Though my mom might kill me if I do, that’d be the third time in two years.”

“Do you not like math?”

“I like it just fine, I’m being dramatic with the ‘unfortunately’ part. I just don’t know if I like it enough to do it for the rest of my life,” you shrugged.

Kun smiled at that. “Well, take it from me. You never have to do one thing for the rest of your life. However long that may be.”

You cocked your head at that. There were more questions you wanted to ask him. He was several hundred years old, and going to college, very possibly not for the first time. He’d most certainly studied and done and seen other stuff, and you wanted to hear about it. Ten’s suggestion came to mind. An opportunity for a genuine connection.

“Do you eat food, Kun?” You asked.

“Yes, sometimes. I don’t need it to live like you, but I do enjoy it on occasion.”

“I was about to go to this bakery that I really like. Do you want to come?”

“I would love nothing more,” he answered simply, and you could hear his earnest sincerity in his words.

Kun held the door to Half Moon Bakery open for you, and you thanked him quietly as you stepped through. The warm, sweet smells immediately wafted to your nose as you walked in. A couple of customers were sitting at the small tables they had, but your eyes were on the display cases filled with loaves of bread, muffins, and baked sweet treats.

“Oh hi Y/N!” The familiar cashier behind the counter greeted you brightly, his eyes turning into crescents with his smile.

“Hey, Jeno. How are you?” You pulled your gaze from the food to beam back at him.

“I’m great! Ooh, we’ve got a new limited-edition brownie, it’s got mini peanut butter cups and swirls of peanut butter!” The werewolf informed you excitedly, and you could practically imagine a tail wagging back and forth behind him.

“Was that your idea?” You asked knowingly.

“I might have suggested something…”

“Of course you did.” You chuckled. “It sounds good, but I’m just going to get a—”

“A matcha cream-filled croissant. I know.” Jeno finished your usual order knowingly. He then looked to Kun curiously, “And what about you?”

“A blueberry lemon scone, please. And I’ll pay for both.”

You were about to object, to insist on paying for your own food, but stopped yourself. Reciprocity. You’d have to walk this line carefully, but you guessed you’d have a harder time trying to get Kun to not pay for your food, and really your goal was to stop getting sonnets from the guy.

Jeno immediately grabbed your croissant from the case and handed it to you on a small dish painted to look like a waxing moon. Kun’s scone had to be warned up, so the two of you sat down while you waited for it to be brought out.

“So do you come here a lot?” Kun asked.

“Yeah, usually like… once a week probably?” You guessed. “I used to come three times a week last semester, between these two Monday-Wednesday-Friday classes I had. They were two hours apart so I couldn’t quite go home, but I hated staying on campus during that time. So I’d usually come here, get a matcha croissant, do some homework or whatever. That’s how I know Jeno.”

“It’s lovely here. I can see why you like it.” The vampire appraised, looking around at the celestial themed décor.

“Wait until you try the food. Then you’ll really understand why I like it so much.”

Jeno came out then with Kun’s order on a half-moon painted dish, setting it down in front of him. Once the werewolf was back behind the counter, you eagerly picked up your croissant and bit into it. Immediately, you had found the creamy center, a happy noise coming from the back of your throat.

Setting the pastry down, you looked back at Kun, feeling a bit self-conscious when you realized that he hadn’t started eating yet and was instead watching you eat.

“What, Kun?”

“Nothing,” he shook his head, a tender smile on his lips. “I think that what you did just now was very cute.”

You crossed your arms and leaned your elbows forward on the table. “Fine. If you’re going to stare at me while I eat, I’m going to stare at you while you eat. Go on, take a bite.”

The vampire picked up the scone. “I suppose that is only fair. I don’t think I’ll be nearly as adorable as you were, however.”

Fighting back the flustered smile threatening to overtake your features, you instead laced your hands together in a business-like manner. “I’ll be the judge of that.”

Kun didn’t argue further, bringing the baked good to his mouth. He took a bite, and you watched eagerly as his expression changed into one of surprised delight. After swallowing, he wiped his mouth then spoke again.

“That is… exquisite.”

“I know.”

“Now I really do understand why you come here so frequently.”

“Uh-huh,” you grinned cockily, picking your croissant back up.

Once he got over his initial shock of how good the scone was, Kun engaged you in conversation. “So how is your mother?”

Right. Your supposed phone call that you had to make earlier. Well, time to fib a little. “Oh, she’s good. She’s trying to grow an herb garden, not going so well.”

Not a complete lie, that’s what she had told you when you called her last week. Hopefully your heart rate didn’t jump enough to make Kun suspicious if he was paying close attention.

“I’m glad you got to speak with her.”

The wistful look on Kun’s face made you briefly wonder about his family. Were they vampires too? When was the last time he got to speak to his mom?

“Is your mom…?”

“My mother passed quite some time ago. She remained a human. My father too.”

“I’m sorry, Kun.”

“For what?”

You frowned as you tried to think of an answer. What were you sorry for? His parents passing? Asking that question in the first place? “I… don’t know. I just am. That’s usually what we say when we hear that somebody passed away, you know? ‘I’m sorry for your loss.’”

“I passed away too. How else would I have become a vampire?” He pointed out, lightening the mood a little.

“Well then I’m sorry for your loss of you.” You laughed, earning a chuckle from Kun as well.

“Thank you. The sentiments are greatly appreciated.”

“So what are you studying, Kun? You said you had come from a non-fiction class? Was that lit or writing?”

“Contemporary Creative Non-Fiction. It was literature. I’m an Interdisciplinary major, one of my concentrations is Literature.”

“And the other?”

“History.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, “That just doesn’t sound fair to the other students. Or the professor.”

He smiled a little. “I am doing the Ancient History track. I’m not that old.”

“Speaking of—” You reclined back in your seat to study the vampire leisurely. “This can’t be your first time going to university. Right?”

“You’re correct, this is not. I have been before.”

“How many times?”

Kun hesitated. “It would be impolite for me to answer. I’m afraid it’d sound like bragging.”

“Kun, let’s make a deal.” You shifted forward again, holding his dark red gaze unwaveringly. “I understand that you have been alive for a few hundred years and have therefore experienced more things than I could possibly imagine. That’s exactly why I’m asking you these questions. So how about you trust that when I ask you a question, it’s because I have thought about it, and have decided that I really do want to know your honest answer, no matter how braggy it might sound. And I will trust that your answer is sincere and honest and not meant to be a brag in any way shape or form, and that you have really just lived your life for so long. Does that sound good?”

At the end of your proposition, you stuck your hand out in the middle of the table, waiting. Kun eyed it for a moment before sucking in a deep breath, taking your hand in his cool grasp, and shaking it.

“I accept the terms of your proposal, Y/N.”

“Pleasure doing business with you,” you grinned at him, taking your hand back. “Now, tell me about your three hundred degrees or whatever.”

“It’s not that many, really,” he seemed almost flustered, readjusting his collar for a moment. “And I’m not sure if I can remember all of them off the top of my head.”

“I’ll take what I can get.”

“Let me see… I have gone to medical school.”

“Oh wow—”

“But that was when bloodletting was still an accepted practice, I haven’t been lately.” Kun admitted sheepishly, drumming his fingers on the table as he thought some more. “Then there was astronomy, Latin, mathematics, musical composition, psychology, literature the first time, and I started law school but then the war happened…”

“War?” You echoed in bewilderment.

“I didn’t participate,” he assured you, as if that was the only thing you were possibly confused about. “But it did disrupt my studies. I never ended up going back, which is alright, I didn’t care much for law.”

“Don’t you get bored of it all? I mean, you must be a pro at everything there is.”

“No, not at all. They’re always creating new things to do.”

At your surely skeptical look, Kun continued eagerly, “For example, I learned to oil paint two hundred years ago, but there’s digital painting now. I learned how to sail a hundred years ago, but there are planes to fly now. I can play practically every instrument in a classical orchestra, but there are entirely new ways to make music that are contained completely within a computer, that I have to learn programs, software, new tools to compose on. It’s wonderful. That’s why I like to go back to school, there’s always new fields emerging, new things to learn. And even the fields that I have already have degrees in, like medicine, have made leaps and bounds since the last time I studied.”

His face was bright and animated as he raved about all of this to you, and you felt a fond smile tug at the corner of your mouth as you listened. His perspective was so… refreshing. You had honestly expected more nihilism and angst from a several hundred year old vampire who already held at least half a dozen degrees and had witnessed who knows how many historical events. But it seemed that all those years had done was make him eager to live even more.

“And you’re not... exhausted by that idea? That you’ll never be done with everything?”

“No, not at all,” he cocked his head to the side. “If I finished everything now, that’d make for a very boring eternity.”

“I like that, Kun,” you declared, picking your croissant up. “I really do.”

“Y/N, while I am very glad that you invited me out with you, and I hope you don’t take this as any sort of complaint, I am wondering…” Kun tapped his fingernail against the side of his plate as he seemed to be thinking of how to phrase whatever he wanted to ask next. “You seemed rather… freaked out last night. I do know that you and I don’t know each other well, the love potion didn’t erase my memories. I also understand that what I’m feeling is the effects of a potion. So, why the change of heart on your part?”

After swallowing the bite you’d just taken, you sighed, setting your pastry back down. “For one, I don’t want to be needlessly cruel to you. Even if you are under a love potion, I don’t think that’s an excuse to be rude and dismissive. And, I admittedly don’t know a lot about vampires. I think I’ve only met like one before. I just wanted to talk to you. Is that… okay?”

“Yeah,” he smiled softly. “Of course. I already agreed, you can ask me whatever you want.”

“Great. Because I’ve been thinking, can you get sued for turning somebody who didn’t want to be turned? Would that be a wrongful death case? Or… wrongful life?”

Kun looked at you with something that you could only call astonished adoration. His jaw dropped before his features split into a wide grin, and his shoulders started shaking as he was overtaken by giggles that he then tried to cover with his hand.

“It’s a real question!” You tried to be indignant, but you were far too surprised and endeared by the image of the previously stoic and mature vampire breaking down into giggles in front of you.

He straightened back up, physically wiping the smile off of his face. “Of course, of course it is. Please don’t think I was doing anything less than taking you seriously. I’m just… delighted by how your mind works. I’ve had plenty of people question me about vampires and being a vampire, and that has never been one of their go-to questions. Or any of their questions at all. I’m looking forward to what else you’ll ask me.”

“Well, you need to answer this one first before you can get to any of my other galaxy-brain level questions I’ve got in here.” You tapped your temple sarcastically.

“You’re right, my apologies.” Kun laced his fingers together and leaned forward against the table. “I’m not sure about the civil liability of turning someone against their will, I would have to do some research before I’d be comfortable answering your question. However, governments have tried to criminalize the turning of vampires over the years, to mixed results. Right now, it is illegal to turn someone against their will.”

“How do you prove that someone was turned willingly or not?”

“Unicorns of course help investigations to some degree. I’ve also seen some vampires have their prospective fledglings sign contracts.”

“Pfff,” you couldn’t help the burst of laughter that you let out. “Now that just takes all the romance out of it.”

“The contracts are usually only between service vampires and their clientele.”

“I’m sorry, service vampires?” You repeated incredulously.

“Those that turn others in exchange for financial compensation.”

“Sorry, I should really start paying attention when Renjun goes on his tangents, he’s probably talked about this before. Then you wouldn’t have to give me an impromptu lecture on the socioeconomic standing of vampires in modern day.”

“I don’t mind. I enjoy spending time with you, Y/N.”

You fidgeted with a napkin, looking away from his suddenly too-intense eyes. “Uhm— it’s just that term made it sound like they were escorts or something.”

“Some are,” he replied casually. “Service vampires are a heavily regulated industry, since they’re also responsible for the fledgling they produce, ensuring they don’t kill anybody. That process requires more than a contract, you need a lot of trust to help them control their desires. That trust goes both ways, of course, so those who aren’t service vampires—which is most vampires—will only turn close family and friends.”

You looked back up at him, squinting your eyes inquisitively. “Have you turned anybody, Kun?”

He pressed his lips together for a pensive moment before he answered. “I’ve… considered it. But by the time I had found someone who I could contemplate eternity with, I’d already seen far too many fledglings, too many turnings that went horribly wrong. I understood the risk, but I wasn’t sure if they did. And that was also at a time when vampires themselves weren’t outright illegal, but fledglings were to be killed on sight.”

“Oh— Oh, God.” You breathed out.

“Mature vampires were considered to be in control of our feedings, fledglings weren’t. And, they didn’t really want us going around making more of us.”

“The person you were going to turn…”

Kun looked up at a silver star decoration hanging above your table. “It ended up being for the best, I suppose. We parted ways some years later, less than amicably.”

“Ugh, I couldn’t imagine having to have awkward run-ins with your ex for literally forever,” you joked, attempting to lighten the mood.

He laughed. “Yes, I do actually have some old friends who were married before they turned several centuries ago but the diocese that performed the marriage in the first place won’t divorce them because they’re technically dead and therefore don’t have mortal souls anymore. By their logic.”

You slapped a hand over your mouth in disbelief. “Oh my God, so they’re just begrudgingly married for eternity?”

“Yeah.” He chuckled. “They still get together to celebrate their anniversary every 100 years.”

“That’s nice, I guess.”

After finishing your food up at the bakery, Kun walked you back to your apartment—you weren’t sure if it was chivalry, a genuine concern for your wellbeing, or a combination of both—and now you were once again at your front door.

“Thank you again, Kun, for paying,” you said, fishing your keys out from your backpack.

“I was happy to. Thank you for inviting me to come with you. I enjoyed our discussion a lot.”

You focused your gaze on the keys in your hand. “Me too.”

“Are you busy this weekend?”

“I’m hanging out with a couple friends tomorrow, but I don’t think I’ve got anything going on Sunday. Why?”

“I want to keep spending time with you. As much as you’ll let me, if that’s okay.”

“Oh, right.” You could feel yourself warming up at his candidness. “Uhm, sure, we can do something on Sunday. Did you have anything in mind?”

Kun had almost a mischievous smile on his face. “Would you mind terribly if I surprised you?”

You sputtered out a laugh. “You’re asking if you can surprise me?”

“Some people don’t care for surprises. And I’m not telling you what it is, just that I would like to keep it a surprise, if that’s alright with you.”

“Yeah, Kun, you can surprise me. On one condition.”

“Of course, anything.”

“Bring me your favorite book you’ve read recently.”

He tilted his head, brows furrowed in confusion. “Pardon me?”

“On Sunday, wherever we go, I want you to bring me your favorite book that you’ve read in the past…” you ruminated on how you wanted to quantify ‘recent’ for a vampire, and finally settled on, “…year. You’re half a Lit major, so I’m assuming you own least one or two.”

“Yeah, I think I might’ve read a couple here or there,” he chuckled. “I will bring you one.”

“Not just any one, your favorite, remember?”

“Of course.”

Satisfied that he understood your request, you stuck your apartment key in your lock. “Goodnight, Kun.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.” The vampire once again took your free hand in his delicate, cool grasp, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to the back of your fingers before letting it go.

You paused for just a moment, feeling as though you should say something. But there were no words that came to mind, so you instead unlocked your apartment and disappeared through the door with one last wave over your shoulder to him.

“You’re going on a date with him?” Kunhang scoffed in disbelief from the living room.

“Did you not just hear what I said?” You pushed his head as you walked by to take your seat on the floor around Sicheng and Ten’s coffee table. “We’re hanging out.”

“Sounds like a bad idea...” Your friend muttered, grabbing his beer and taking a swig of it.

“Coming from the guy who suggested I try to get a car out of him.”

“Yeah, a car. Not a date. No strings attached.”

“You’re insane,” you rolled your eyes, trying to turn your focus to the phoenix on your left, who was shuffling the stack of cards.

You, Dejun, Kunhang, and Yangyang were over at Ten and Sicheng’s place for a board game night, which of course couldn’t pass by without a comment or two about your current love potion predicament. And when you had tried to fill Ten in on how your attempt to take his advice was going, your gryphon friend had to add in his two cents.

“Coming from the girl who is going on a date with someone who is high on love potion.”

“I haven’t had a lot of opportunities to talk to vampires that are hundreds of years old, excuse me for wanting to chat.” You accepted your stack of cards from Sicheng gracefully, then turned back to glaring daggers at Kunhang. “It’s not a date.”

He was firm on his stance. “I’m telling you: This isn’t a good idea.”

“Why? Because I’m feeding into his delusion or something? He’s going to be in love with me until the love potion wears off, whether I—”

“Because I think you’re going to hurt yourself, Y/N. You’re too soft for this. Being constantly wooed for who knows how long? You don’t think that’s going to do anything to you?” Kunhang sighed, grey eyes focused on you from across the table.

You held his gaze for a moment, eyes still narrowed at him. Then, you looked away, grabbing a handful of the snacks you’d just retrieved from the kitchen. “I know it’s not real. Can we just start the fucking game? Or does everybody have an opinion on my life that they want to share?”

Ten, Sicheng, Dejun, and Yangyang all looked at each other, then simultaneously shook their heads. Ten went back to passing out the in-game currency to everyone, and you refused to look up at Kunhang despite the lingering feeling of his eyes on you.

Later on, between the conclusion of the first game and the set-up of the next, you were laying on the ground in an attempt to realign your back that had been hurting from the unfortunate hunch that you’d been sitting with. A couple others had dispersed to do various tasks, while Dejun and Sicheng stuck behind in the living room to step up the next game. They were quietly conferring over the instructions as you readjusted the positioning of your shoulders, sighing as one specific part of your back relaxed into a gentle cracking sound.

“Y/N,” Dejun got your attention.

“Hm?” You replied, too comfortable now to get up all the way yet.

“He means well.”

“…Bluebeard?” You asked in confusion, referencing the next game you were about to play, a board-gamified version of the Bluebeard’s Castle fairytale.

“No, Kunhang,” the dragon clarified. “He has every right to be a little worried about you hanging out with Kun tomorrow.”

You sighed again. “I know. I’m going to apologize to him. I just… need to be mad tonight. If I try to apologize today, I’m going to get pissed again and the wrong thing will come out and I’ll just make it worse. We’ve been friends for a few years now, we both need to sleep it off before either of us try to apologize.”

“So… are you still going to see Kun tomorrow?” It was Sicheng that asked you that.

Taking your bottom lip between your teeth, you thought about it. Maybe the smart thing would be to cancel. But you’d already asked him to bring you a book, and you were sure he’d been carefully contemplating that request ever since. Not to mention that you were excited to see him, actually. He was interesting to talk to. You’d met lots of magical creatures, all the ones that you were currently with for starters, but there was something both simultaneously refreshing and homey about talking to Kun, finding out more about him.

“Yeah, I am,” you declared, though you’d known that there was no changing your mind about it. “Don’t worry, guys. Like I said, I know it’s not real. To me, we’re just two buds hanging out. Promise.”

A knock on your door pulled you off your couch the next day. Readjusting your outfit for a brief moment, you then swung it open. The exact vampire you were expecting was on the other side, a heart-stopping smile on his face, bouquet of flowers in one hand, and small wrapped gift in the other.

“Oh, oh wow,” you breathed out, accepting the flowers from him. It was a gorgeous arrangement of yellow tulips and white baby’s breath, simple but enchanting. “Thank you, Kun.”

“Good morning, Y/N.”

“Yeah, good morning,” you said distractedly, eyes still focused on the flowers. You looked up at him again, giving him a bashful smile, “Uhm, here, I need to put these in some water.”

Leaving the door open for him, you turned to go back into your apartment, but were stopped by Kun’s voice.

“Ah, Y/N.”

“Hm?”

He was still standing on the welcome mat outside, hands clasped behind his back. “I need to be invited in.”

“Oh, right, sorry! Kun, please come in.”

“Thank you.” He stepped inside, closing the door behind him.

“So, how does that work with school and going to class? Like, do you just have to be invited into each building or is it each classroom? What about professors’ offices? Is there like a special vampire-only orientation where the president of the college invites all the new vampire students everywhere or something?” You asked him over your shoulder as you moved further into your apartment, your destination being your kitchen.

“The rules are a little fluid, but our university is a public institution, so I don’t have to be invited in anywhere.”

“Oh. Well, that’s a lot less funny than my idea.”

“Yours was very efficient,” Kun tried to placate you as you busied yourself with rooting through your cabinets.

“So what about if you went to a private university?”

“I’ve been to one private university before. However, it was run by vampires, so the owners were dead and therefore nobody needed to be invited in anywhere.”

“Huh. And my apartment?” You knelt down to check under the sink. “I was able to invite you in, but I don’t own it, I rent. Shouldn’t my landlord have been the only one to be able to invite you in?”

Kun had an answer for that one too. “Owner and/or current legal occupant who is there with the owner’s permission can invite vampires in.”

“So my lease lets me invite supernatural creatures inside, but I can’t paint,” you rolled your eyes.

Finally, you secured your lone glass vase at the back of the cabinet under the sink, behind a couple bottles of cleaning products.

“What color would you paint the walls, if you could paint?”

You filled the vase up under the faucet. “Probably a different color in each room. Dark green in the living room, goldenrod in the kitchen, something like that. I don’t know, the neutral beige grey is so boring. Especially with the fake grey hardwood.”

He smiled at you. “Very colorful. I like that.”

Having finally gotten the flowers in water, you turned back to accept the package wrapped in simple brown paper and twine. Curiously undoing the small twine bow first, then tearing the paper open, you saw that it was an old, thick, leatherbound book, and trailed your finger over to read the spine.

“The Complete Works of Sherlock Holmes?” You tilted your head. “This is your...”

Kun went to try to explain, gesturing to a couple small yellow tabs poking out of the pages. “I bookmarked just a couple that I think you’ll like—”

“Kun, I asked for your favorite from the past year, not two centuries ago!” You guffawed.

“Hey, I’ve re-read these in the past year! You didn’t say they had to be published in the past year, just my favorite that I’ve read this year, and this is it. But if you’re dissatisfied—”

“Nope! No take-backs!” You clutched the book to your chest protectively. “I’ll read them. Or, at least the bookmarked ones. I don’t know if I’ll get to them all in this lifetime.”

There was suddenly an unpleasant frown on Kun’s face, a crease forming between his brows. The teasing faded from your demeanor as you set the book down on your kitchen counter beside the vase of flowers.

“Kun? What’s wrong?”

“I just remembered that you’re human, and you know… you won’t… be here forever like I will.”

“Oh, Kun… I’m okay with that.” You reassured him, squeezing his arm.

“I know. Let’s… I don’t want to think about it anymore. Are you ready to go?” His voice was tight, the smile that flashed across his face not reaching his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah!” You grabbed your bag, then gestured for Kun to lead the way.

It was a lovely spring day, and you delighted in the still cool breeze tickling your nose as warm sun shone down on you. The streets downtown were bustling with life, and you pressed close to Kun to make sure you didn’t lose him in the crowd. You were almost knocked into by three smaller figures, a young dryad, phoenix, and human all playing tag. The dryad seemed to be It, shooting out a vine to wrap around the human kid’s waist and yanking him back. The human giggled as his friend wrapped his arms around him tight. The phoenix noticed the lack of her friends and darted back to meet them, a couple soft down feathers falling off the bridge of her nose in the process. You smiled fondly as you skirted around them and continued down the sidewalks.

“Cute,” you commented absentmindedly.

Kun’s eyes lingered on the children for another moment before he turned his gaze forwards again. “Sometimes I really do have to stop and look at where we are.”

“What...” You trailed off as you realized what he must be thinking of. “Oh, yeah. You remember what it was like before humans and magical beings lived together like this, right?”

It was before your time, but humans, magical creatures, and even different kinds of magical creatures all lived separately. You knew bits and pieces, that the kind of integration that you’d grown up with was rather recent. You had your fair share of older relatives who regarded your magical friends with thinly veiled suspicion and mistrust throughout your life.

“Yes, I do. At least, from when I was alive onwards, and I know stories from those older than I am.”

“Can you tell me about it?”

“I think that to start, it’s important to think of a spectrum of non-magical to magical that all kinds of life fall somewhere along, and not an either/or. Humans are on the furthest end of the non-magical, but they can become magical.”

“Like becoming a vampire.”

“Correct.”

“Like you.”

He nodded. “Yes.”

“Okay, I’m following so far.”

“Witches were previously just considered humans that can use magic.”

You snickered. “I know a few witches who would smite you for that, but sure, I’ve heard that before.”

“Obviously, with recent advancements in the study of magic, we know that’s not true.” Kun stopped the two of you to wait at a crosswalk signal. “But generally, it’s been easier for humans to accommodate magical beings that looked more like them over the years.”

“Closer to them on the non-magic to magic spectrum.” You related it back to his framework.

“Right. Humans were more likely to live with magical beings that looked less outlandish, and posed less of a threat to them.”

“Odd predicament for vampires, then. You look almost just like humans, used to be humans, but before blood supplements, you almost exclusively had to feed off humans.”

“Hence the... tangled and tense history of humans and vampires. I can’t really give a clear story of humans and vampires. It’s messy, depending on the time, society, village, individual family that you look at. And then of course, all magical creatures don’t get along either.”

“Dryads and dragons.” You listed off an old rivalry you knew off the top of your head. Historically, dryads despised dragons’ tendency to burn down their forests and fields.

“Right.”

“Fairies and… everyone.”

Kun chuckled. “Yeah, exactly. But the most recent history, here, now, is that mass integration to create the society that you know really came about around a hundred years ago. Witches and humans had been living together for a while, with some dryads, fairies, and even the odd vampire here and there. Then sirens, and gryphons, and phoenixes… I mean, the first human to see a dragon around here is probably still alive, you know?”

“And I just got annihilated at board game night by one yesterday.”

“Like I said... Sometimes I feel the need to just stop and take it all in.”

The crosswalk signal changed then, and the vampire with you briefly looked both ways before guiding you forward with a hand on the small of your back.

You looked over at him curiously, wishing that you could see any hint of his eyes behind his dark sunglasses. “What about when you were turned, Kun? Were vampires... Your parents were still humans... Was it hard for you?”

“I wasn’t living with my parents when I became a vampire. Which was for the best, truly, so there was no chance of me hurting them. But…” He paused, and when you looked over at him, he was looking up at the sky. “I remember when I was a young boy, and I was so small, and the world was too big. And when I was hurt, my mother would take me into her arms and tell me it would all be okay, and I believed her. I just knew it would be because she was there. Because my mother was with me and she was bigger than me, bigger than the whole world. I remember wishing I could’ve had her there then.”

Your eyes had gotten a little misty, and you reached up to dab at them with the back of your hand. Kun’s voice wavered in just the slightest, and you felt your chest tighten at just how strongly he still felt all these emotions after so long.

“Didn’t the person who turned you take care of you? When you were turning, and as a fledgling? Isn’t that what they’re supposed to do?”

“I was turned by a friend. I got hurt, very badly, and he panicked and couldn’t think of how else to save me. He was a very young vampire at the time, he had only been turned himself five years earlier. I was the first person he’d ever turned, he didn’t know what to do, how to take care of me.” Kun relayed all this to you very matter-of-factly, as if it’d happened to somebody else.

“So did you have any choice about it?”

He looked over at you with a serene look on his face. “No. But if I spend the rest of my immortal life mourning the measly forty or fifty years that I would’ve gotten at the time, that would make for a miserable eternity. Every choice that we make or don’t make creates a new life for ourselves, and yes, sometimes for others. And if we constantly mourn all those lives we never got to live, we’ll never have time to live the one that we do have.”

The fist that your hand had curled into over the unjustness of Kun’s turning, relaxed as he continued speaking. You took a deep breath to recenter yourself.

“And your mother? Your father?”

“I saw them some time after I turned. And… it wasn’t any different. They were still my parents.” He smiled, it was bittersweet, but filled with heart, with love. “And I believed again that it would all be okay.”

“And… has it been?” You asked, head tilted curiously. Could a vampire even define such a long life as ‘okay’ or not?

Kun looked down from the sky at you this time, his features turning soft, fond. “More than.”

Kun finally stopped you on a less busy street, all old buildings, stone and brick faces. The one in particular that you were in front of had no distinguishing signage out front, and you peered around curiously for any hint as to what the six-floor building you were looking at was possibly used for. The windows were tinted too darkly for you to see in, and the ornately carved dark wooden door held no clue as to its identity other than the street number, 101.

Your companion pulled on the large iron handle to hold the door open for you. Well, you did give him permission to surprise you, you certainly couldn’t complain about not knowing what was going on. So, you stepped in.

As soon as you crossed the threshold, the air around you became noticeably cooler. Not uncomfortably so, just feeling almost as if you were a basement, the sort of coolness of being underground. You were in a lobby, a woman sitting behind a counter reading a book that looked even older than the one Kun had given you. She looked about your parents’ age, some grey streaked in her hair. But you realized that assessment meant nothing, as her eyes flashed red in the warm, dim light when she glanced up from her book to the two of you.

“Good morning,” Kun greeted her, and stepped up to the counter to hold a small black card the size of a business card out to her.

She took it, skimming the front and back for all of one second before handing it back to him. Without a word, she went back to reading.

“Come on.” Kun ushered you further into the building, through the black velvet curtain past the desk.

This time, you emerged in a much larger room. There were no lights, but it was still illuminated by an old-school movie projector casting a grainy, black and white scene on the opposite wall. You watched as a woman in clothes that you couldn’t even pinpoint the timeframe of—other than definitely not being from the past century at least—walked, turned, and waved at the camera. The clip then replayed from the beginning by itself, no manual rewinding necessary.

You rewatched the short two-second clip again with delight before you turned to Kun. “What is this place?”

“It’s a gallery, of sorts,” he explained, gesturing to the video. “A group of vampires all got together and compiled videos, movies, films, kinetoscopes—every sort of moving image you can imagine—that they had been holding onto over their lifetimes. And they’re all on display here.”

“Kun, this is so cool!” You gasped.

“I think we all—non-vampires and vampires alike—tend to have this idea of vampires as being stuck in whenever they were turned. You know, a vampire turned in the 16th century is treated the same way we treat a painting from the 16th century. Like we’re... artifacts or something. And we’re not, we lived through everything else that came after we turned too. We’re not dead history, we’re living, moving history.” Kun had led you into another room of the gallery as he spoke, where a clip of a busy street market was repeating. “I think this is a good reminder of that. The oldest stuff is on the bottom from the invention of the camera, and the newest up at the top. It goes all the way to the present, digital. The top floor isn’t finished, they’ll keep adding to it as the years go by, as we all keep living through history.”

You watched the market, vendors and customers, families, horses, produce, rugs and wares. Just a microcosm of everyday life from whenever and wherever this was. A peek into moving history.

“Do you have anything here?” You asked, curious if you’d be able to see any microcosm of Kun’s life.

He shook his head. “No. I couldn’t decide what to submit. Too many options. If you ever see my home, you’ll understand that I... I tend to hoard.”

“Thank you for bringing me here.” You watched Kun’s face this time as he was focused on the moving picture. His features were lit softly from the front, cast in the same black and white as the image, except for his earnest, lively scarlet eyes.

The sun was just setting when you finally returned to your apartment. You’d ended up spending the whole day out with Kun. First, your stomach growled as soon as you two left the gallery since it was about lunchtime, and Kun immediately had to remedy that by taking you to lunch. Then, the restaurant you’d eaten at was near the shopping district, so you two meandered and did some window shopping—you really did have to physically stop him from going in and buying you everything that you even looked at for more than one second. And finally, you might have intentionally let slip that you were “kinda hungry” as it approached the evening, and your chest felt funny at the way that Kun’s face lit up before he offered to take you to dinner.

And now, you were slowing to a stop at your front door, getting ready to say goodnight.

“Thank you, Kun. This was a really fun day,” you said genuinely. “And thank you for the book recommendation, too. I’m excited to read it.”

Kun’s eyes sparkled as he smiled at you. “Thank you for letting me surprise you, Y/N. It made me happy to see you enjoy yourself today.”

“Oh, uhm, I have something for you too, by the way!”

“Really?”

“I didn’t think it was fair for you to be surprising me, and for me to be asking for a book on top of that without giving you anything in return…” You paused both for dramatic effect, and to search through your phone.

He took this as an opportunity to interject, “Y/N, you gave me plenty just by agreeing to come.”

There was a prick at your heart from his sweet words. Pushing past that, you tried to joke as casually as possible, “And yet I still want to give you…”

Finally finding what you were looking for, you selected a thumbnail from your camera roll. Shoulder to shoulder with Kun, you held up your phone screen for him to see properly. It was a video that you’d taken today, just a few seconds long, of Kun. You’d taken it while the two of you were out window-shopping, and Kun had stopped at the window of an electronics store to look over a new piece of music mixing equipment that was on display there, his face awash in rainbow by the colorful LEDs inside. You’d been caught by the spark of interest that was on his features, a different look than you’d ever seen from him since he’d been under the love potion. Sure, all the soft smiles and tender adoration you’d been getting was sweet. But to see this magnetism towards something he was truly interested in outside of the effects of the potion, you were utterly entranced.

He looked up from the video to you, brow set in confusion. “I don’t understand.”

“You said you didn’t know what to submit to the video gallery. They’re taking digital submissions, right?”

“Right...”

“I’m sorry if I’ve been treating you like an artifact, Kun. If submitting something old is going to make you feel like that, then maybe you should submit a newer piece of your moving history.”

Kun stared at you, mouth parted. He was silent for a beat too long, and you start fidgeting, suddenly unsure of yourself.

“Sorry, I’m realizing that’s like really presumptuous of me to tell you what to submit— It’s just, you know, another option, if you want it.”

“No, it’s perfect, Y/N,” he reassured you. “Please, send me it. Having you as a part of my moving history in the gallery, I really like that idea.”

You were getting hot under the intensity of his gaze, and looked back down at your phone screen. “Right. I’ll-I’ll send it to you.”

“And you don’t treat me like an artifact, either.” Kun briefly squeezed your hand, then dropped it. Part of you itched to grab his again. “I’m sorry that I made you think that. You treat me like a person, Y/N. You ask me questions, yes, but you ask questions about all of me. Me back then, me now, my family, my major, my favorite book from the past year, even my future. It’s… the first time since I was turned that I think I’ve had someone do that.”

You swallowed thickly, the gulp comically loud in your ears. He held your eye contact, that same loving, peaceful, adoring look on his face as he gazed at you.

Then, he finally looked away, at the setting sun. “It’s getting late. I should let you go for the night.”

Scrambling to reach into your bag, you ascertained your keys and started the first of too many attempts at unlocking your door. “Goodnight, Kun.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.” He took your hand, bending over to press a familiar, sickly sweet kiss to your knuckles. When he stood up straight, he added, “You will send me that video, right?”

“R-Right. The video. Yes.” You nodded dumbly, opening the door then practically slamming it shut behind you.

You didn’t make it even two steps into your apartment, sliding down the wall of your entryway with a drawn-out sigh. Fuck.

“I fucking hate Python,” you declared, snapping your laptop shut. You, Dejun, Yangyang, Ten, and Sicheng were back in the student union getting lunch together between classes, and you and your dragon friend were taking the spare time to work on an assignment. “I’m going to quit school and run away to live in the woods and survive off the land and if I ever see another computer again for the rest of my life it’ll be too soon.”

Dejun snickered from beside you, still happily typing away at his own coding. “You wouldn’t last an hour without wifi, Y/N.”

You groaned, opening your computer back up. “I know... a girl can dream, right?”

“Just change majors if you hate math this much,” Yangyang suggested from across the table, popping a tater tot into his mouth.

“It’s not like you haven’t done it before,” Ten added oh-so-helpfully, eyes not leaving his sketchbook.

“It’s not that I hate math, I just...” you trailed off as you tried to put your situation into words.

“Don’t like it?” Dejun finished for you humorously.

You stuck your tongue out at him. “No. I just... hate math classes.”

“Oh, that’s so much clearer.”

“Just like you hated Literature classes, and hated History classes,” Sicheng pointed out, listing off your previous two majors.

“Exactly!” You exclaimed, despite knowing that the phoenix was poking fun at you too. “You get me, Sicheng!”

“Scary...” he murmured to himself.

As you were desperately trying to think of any comeback other than just sticking your tongue out at him, you heard a voice calling your name. Looking up, you saw Kun approaching your table, and you gave him a small wave of acknowledgement.

He stopped next to your table, gentle smile focused down on you. “Hello, Y/N.”

“Hey, Kun,” you smiled up at the vampire, eyeing the paper bag in his hand with a familiar logo on it. “So you went back to Half Moon?”

“Yes, I did.” He held the bag out to you.

You accepted it, having to bite down on your bottom lip to keep your bashful grin at bay as you peered into the paper bag. An excited squeal left your mouth when you saw exactly what he had brought you. “A matcha croissant! Thank you, Kun!”

“You’re welcome.” He beamed at you.

Looking around the table, you ignored the pointed looks all your friends were giving you, and instead gestured to the empty chair on the other side of Dejun. “Do you want to sit with us?”

“Thank you, I wish I could,” he shook his head. “Unfortunately, I have a class to get to. Goodbye, Y/N.”

“Bye.” You didn’t even flinch when he kissed your hand this time, though your skin was on fire as you remembered very clearly that your friends were right there.

As Kun left, he gave you a final wave over his shoulder, and you waved back before returning to your friends, dread in your stomach. In an effort to appear as normal as possible, you reached into the bag and pulled out your croissant. The table was still dead silent after you had taken your first bite, and you looked up from your food to see the other four staring at you.

“Oh my god, would you guys stop?” You hissed.

“Damn... I’m such a good witch,” Yangyang cracked his knuckles. “That man is heads over heels for you!”

“He brought me a croissant!” You retorted indignantly. “It’s not like he proposed or anything.”

“Y/N, I’ve known Kun for...” Yangyang trailed off, brows furrowing as he seemed to be thinking of how long he really had known the vampire for. “I don’t know, a few years? And he’s not like a recluse or anything but he’s not, how you would say... warm and fuzzy.”

“Oh my—”

“He brought you a croissant! What looks like your favorite kind, if I’m not mistaken?”

You pouted as you took another bite. “Maybe.”

“Looks like Ten’s advice worked then,” Sicheng mused.

“You should probably give him a few more nudges about other stuff you like, though, unless you want to get a hundred matcha croissants a day,” the siren suggested, readjusting his hold on his pencil.

“Yeah. I just can’t figure out how he always seems to know where I am—”

“He can smell you.” The creatures around you all retorted in unison, nobody even looking up from their individual tasks.

You coughed, scrambling to grab your bottle to take a long drink of water. Your other hand instinctually came up to rub at the side of your throat.

“So... how are... things?” Kunhang asked tersely, sitting on the porch swing that he and Yangyang had on their balcony. You’d called him after your last class that day, begging him to let you come over.

You leaned against the balcony railing, taking a deep breath—

“That doesn’t sound good.”

—and let out something between a groan and a screech.

“That really doesn’t sound good.” The gryphon picked up his blue Gorgonade that was sitting on the side table. “Care to share, Y/N?”

“You were right...” You mumbled, burying your face in your hands.

“Sorry, what was that?”

“You were right, okay? Happy, Kunhang? You were right! You know me and my stupid soft little heart too damn well, and you were fucking right!”

“Woah.” He held his hands up defensively. “Sorry, I genuinely didn’t hear you, you kinda muffled yourself. Uh, I’m going to take a guess that this is about Kun?”

“Yes...” You whined. “I almost kissed him today, Kunhang!”

“Y/N!”

“And you want to know the worst part?”

“That’s not the worst part?” He asked, horror on his features.

“No, it’s not! The worst part, is that the only reason I didn’t is because he stopped me!” You bemoaned dramatically, squeezing your eyes shut against the embarrassment as you replayed the horrifying moment over again in your head.

Kun had found you again in a break between your classes. The two of you were just sitting on a shaded bench under a tree in a more secluded area of campus, chatting. You were just talking about nonsense, telling him about the lecture you’d just come from, how it was actually the one math class you had this semester that you liked. And Kun was just listening, and you were sitting so close to him, and Kun was looking at you like you were everything to him, and the next thing you knew, you were leaning in closer and closer to him. Then he ducked his head away from you at the last second, and you were rocketed back to your senses as you realized what you almost did.

“Oh God— Y/N!” Kunhang looked like he was about to pass out.

You covered your face again. “I know...”

“Why did he, you know, swerve you?”

“He said...” You sighed, looking up at the sky. “He said that he didn’t think it was fair, to me.”

“To you?”

“Yes, because I was... ‘falling for him under false pretenses’ since his behavior is being influenced by the love potion and not genuine feelings for me. And he thought that it was best for me, if he kept his distance for the duration of the potion.” Hot tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you repeated his words bitterly. You weren’t mad at him, you were mad at yourself. God, you felt so fucking stupid.

Kunhang’s jaw was on the floor. “You— you were rejected... by someone high on love potion.”

“I think I’m officially the most pathetic person on the planet.” You plopped down on the bench swing next to him, pulling your knees up to your chest.

Your friend scooted over to you, and you felt the familiar, comforting weight of his arm around your shoulders and a wing nestling over you. “No, you’re not. There’s nothing pathetic about being able to connect with people as openly and freely as you do, Y/N.”

You dropped your head onto his shoulder, bringing a hand up to harshly wipe at the tears threatening to spill over. “There’s really nothing pathetic about crying over a vampire that I’ve known for six days?”

That gave the gryphon a moment’s pause as he seemed to be seriously considering your question. Finally, he answered confidently, “Nah. Pathetic would be crying over a vampire you’ve only known for five days. Six days, you’re in the clear.”

That did make you choke out a little giggle, and he gave your head a couple pats.

The door to the patio was suddenly thrown open, and you jumped in your seat, whipping around to see who it was. Which you couldn’t do at first, as Kunhang had instinctually blocked you from the intruder—which always reminded you of a soccer mom throwing out her arm when slamming on the brakes of her minivan a little too hard—so all you could see were grey feathers. Yangyang just ran around the gryphon’s wing to skid to a stop in front of you two, panicked eyes landing on you.

“Y/N!” He pointed at you almost accusatorily.

“Yangyang!” You imitated his tone, pointing right back at him.

“Have you heard from Kun today?”

You exchanged a look with Kunhang. “Uh, I saw him on campus, but not since then. Why?”

“When was that?”

“I don’t know, one, maybe?”

Yangyang checked the time on his phone anxiously. “Five hours ago?”

“Yeah, I guess.” You were growing uneasy with each passing second. “Yangyang, what’s going on?”

“Kun’s not picking up the phone, or replying to my texts. And he’s like... neurotic about that stuff, you know.”

You were aware of Kun’s tendency to reply to texts in an extremely timely fashion, and always call back on the rare occasion that he missed a call from someone. A frown grew on your face. “How long has it been?”

“I first called him... at three, because he was done with classes by then. But I’ve just gotten radio silence all day.”

Chewing on the inside of your cheek, anxiety kept mounting inside you.

Kunhang spoke up. “Did you do something to piss him off maybe?”

“No. And I would know, he has no problem telling me.” Yangyang ran a hand through his hair, then focused a pleading look on you. “Y/N, do you think you could go check on him?”

“No.” The gryphon answered for you.

“Dude—”

You added, “I’ve never been to his place, I don’t even know where it is.”

“I’ll give you the address!”

“I’m not going to go over there uninvited.” You were still arguing but felt your resolve waning fast.

“He’s madly in love with you, this will be more like a great surprise for him!”

“Yangyang, cut it out,” Kunhang told him off.

The witch tilted his head in confusion. “Am I missing something?”

“No, just go over there yourself if you’re so worried. Y/N’s not your personal errand girl.”

“If he’s not even picking up my calls, there’s no way he’ll open the door for me. Y/N, on the other hand…”

“Liu Yangyang, have you ever heard of the word no? Just fuck off for—”

“Kunhang,” you interrupted him, bracing yourself for that venom to be turned on you for what you were about to say. “Thank you, but I-I am going to go over. Yangyang’s right, that’s not like Kun, I want to check on him.”

The gryphon blinked at you in disbelief. “You really think that’s a… good idea?”

You offered him an uneasy smile. “I’m just going to make sure he’s alive. Or… undead, or whatever. I won’t even go in, just see if he comes to the door.”

Kunhang just gave you a look that clearly conveyed his disapproval of this idea.

Double checking the house number with the address that Yangyang had texted you, you took a shaky breath. This was definitely it. It was a modest size, probably two bedrooms, if you had to guess from the outside. Definitely not the sort of exceptionally lavish castle that one might think a vampire as old as Kun would have. With a shaky inhale, you raised your fist up and knocked on the sturdy wood door.

It swung open just a second later. You were expecting Kun to still be in his usual academic sort of dress, maybe even the same clothes he’d been in earlier on campus, but instead, he was just in a grey t-shirt and black lounge pants. So he did own casual clothes.

“Hi, Kun,” you greeted him as normally as possible, very aware of all the layers to the awkwardness here. You had never been to his place before, he knew that you had never been to his place before, you hadn’t been invited over, and he’d just—as Kunhang had so elegantly put it—swerved you earlier, before saying that he was going to keep his distance from you. And now here you were on his doorstep.

“Oh, Y/N, hello.” Kun smoothed over his t-shirt habitually, as if he were meaning to fix the tuck of a dress shirt that he wasn’t even wearing.

“Sorry, uhm, I promise Yangyang sent me. I’m not... uh, yeah.”

He stepped back, holding the door open wider. “Please, come in.”

With your own promise to Kunhang playing in the back of your mind, you walked inside. “Thanks.”

“So, what does Yangyang need?” Kun kept talking as he guided you further into his home, and you looked around, eyes hungrily drinking in every detail.

It seemed like the one thing Kun had never studied was interior design. His home was a maximalist mishmash of stuff he had accumulated throughout his long life. An oil painting in an ornate gold frame hung beside a colorful pop art photograph collage, both above the olive green mid-century couch. In the corner was a desk with several computer monitors, a few pieces of electronics that were unfamiliar to you, and on the wall above it, small panels of LED lights that cycled through the rainbow. It was a lot, but you were charmed, finding yourself wanting to keep looking at everything, ask about every piece. You were sure that they all had some story or memory attached to them.

The two of you slowed to a stop in the living room, and you tore your eyes from the décor back to the vampire with you.

“He said that you weren’t answering your phone. Uh, he was worried.”

“And he sent you because he was afraid that I might not have answered the door for anybody else.” He nodded in understanding.

“W-well yeah, I suppose.”

“I wasn’t answering his calls because I had my phone on silent. I was busy.”

“Oh, sorry. I’ll go, you’re clearly fine.”

“No, Y/N.” Kun took a step forward, closing the space between you two. “You’re already here, and I don’t like the way we left things earlier. Please, stay?”

You gave him an easy, relaxed smile this time. “Sure.”

“Thank you.” He smiled back, then gestured to the couch. “Sit. Do you want something to drink? Water? I’m afraid my fridge isn’t very human-friendly right now, I apologize. If I’d known you were coming I would have—”

“Water’s fine, Kun,” you reassured him.

As he went to the kitchen, you went ahead and sat down where he indicated. The sofa was comfortable, plush, and you felt like you could melt into it and stay here forever. You went back to looking around at everything, a simple joy at the loving chaos that filled his space. A poster for some black and white silent film that you’d never heard of had caught your eyes when Kun walked back in, setting a glass of water down in front of you.

“I love all the stuff you’ve got in here,” you told him as he went to sit at the other end of the couch. “I feel like I could just look at it all forever.”

“Thank you. I usually just get told that it looks like I live in a flea market.”

You snickered. “Yangyang?”

“Well, yes.”

“So, what were you doing? Before I got here.” You took a sip of your water.

“Composing.” He gestured behind him to the desk with all the electronics equipment and LED panels. “Though I have to admit, I wasn’t making much progress.”

“Artist’s block?”

“Yes, something like that.” He sighed, fingertip tracing figure-eights in the upholstery of the back of the couch. “Usually music will help clear my mind, but this time…”

You frowned. “What’s wrong? If you want to share, I get it if you don’t.”

“I missed you,” Kun admitted without missing a beat.

Your grip tightened on your glass, and you took another long sip before replying weakly, “Well, I’m here…”

“Yes, you are. Like a little miracle…”

Kunhang was right again, this was so bad for you, your chest was airy, your head was TV static, your heart hurt. You chugged half your cup.

“Have you not been hydrating properly?” The vampire asked, concern coloring his tone.

“I guess not,” you laughed nervously, setting the glass back down on the coffee table before resting your hands on your legs. You looked up at him, listening to how loud your heart was hammering in your ears. You were sure he was too.

He leaned forward, studying your face carefully, “Is there something you want to ask me, Y/N?”

You opened your mouth, about to, but immediately closed it. There was something that had been pressing on your mind for a while—well, a couple somethings—but you didn’t know if you actually wanted the answers to either, or if it was just a morbid curiosity, and you were the cat who was going to be killed by it. Figuratively and literally.

“Mmm... nope. Nothing off the top of my head. I’m drawing a blank,” you shook your head maybe a bit too enthusiastically.

Kun reached out to briefly squeeze your hand before setting his back in his lap. “It’s okay, Y/N. You can ask me whatever you want. I remember the deal.”

Of course. The deal you’d offered him in the bakery last week. That whatever question you asked him you had thought through and wanted his honest answers to, therefore he would give you them, no matter what they were. Except, despite the fact that you had thought these questions through, you knew they couldn’t hold up to those terms.

You gave up all pretenses now, voice entirely defeated as you admitted, “I know. It’s just— these ones... I can’t keep my end of the deal. That’s not fair to you, I’m sorry.”

He contemplated this for a moment, drumming his fingers on the back couch cushion. “Are they yes or no questions? Or more open-ended?”

“Open-ended.”

“Then... I’ll only answer if I think the answer won’t hurt you. How about that?”

You breathed in deeply, took another sip of your water, and readjusted to fully face Kun, one of your arms resting on the back of couch. “Okay, yeah.”

“Great. Go ahead, when you’re ready.”

Mustering up whatever strength was left in your voice, you asked, “What is it like? Being under the love potion?”

“It’s beautiful.” He began, a giddy smile coming to his lips. His fingers inched forward, bridging the gap between you and gently stroking over the back of yours, seemingly absentmindedly as he spoke. “It’s not a destructive, consuming sort of love, but the comfortable, familiar kind that you settle into after being with someone for a while. Like you just know that they’re your person. Admittedly, sometimes when I’ll think about you when we’re apart my chest will hurt a little, but then when I see you again, it feels like coming home. There are some moments I get overcome with emotion, but it’s not a constant obsession like a new crush or puppy love. I do of course remember what it was like before the potion, and how I felt about you then, but it truly feels like another life— though you can imagine that I’ve used that phrase quite a bit.”

You were biting on the inside of your cheek so hard you started tasting blood. With a sharp hiss, you freed the skin from your teeth, and swiped over the area with your tongue for a moment as you tried to think of an answer, any answer, just something to say to that. Thankfully, Kun seemed to understand the position you were in, and saved you from having to respond.

“What were your other questions?”

“Just— Just one more.” You steeled your nerves. “You had to be bit, to be turned.”

Kun tilted his head. “Yes, though that wasn’t a question.”

“H-How does it feel?”

“You’re asking me to describe being turned to you?” He frowned. “That was a long time ago, Y/N, it was honestly a bit of a blur. I’m afraid I don’t really remember all the details, but I’ll tell you what I can—”

“Not being turned, uhm, being bit by a vampire.”

He squinted one eye closed, then the other. “I can’t—”

“Oh. That’s okay, Kun. I was just curious,” you reassured him, making your voice as sweet as possible to cover up any hint of disappointment. It looked like he was still trying desperately to remember for you, though, scratching at the back of his head and squeezing his eyes shut.

When he still hadn’t said anything a few moments later, you spoke up again, “Kun, I’m serious, it’s okay that you can’t remember.”

The vampire set his gaze on you again, voice tight, “No, I—”

“Oh my god you look unwell again,” you blurted out, taking in his blown out pupils. “Seriously, should I call Renjun? Yangyang?”

He practically leapt to his feet, bumping into furniture on his hasty path to the furthest corner of the living room from you. “No, I know what it is. You should go.”

No way were you going to just leave him like this. You stood up too, but stayed in front of the couch. “Will you tell me what’s wrong with you?”

“I—” He fanned himself with the material of his shirt. “Do you remember what Yangyang was saying about young vampires?”

Of course you did, that idea bouncing around in your head for the past week had contributed to your question in the first place. Younger vampires had a harder time controlling their thirst because all kinds of want became hunger, a need to feed.

“Yeah, but I thought that you were okay, since you were so much older. You haven’t even mentioned anything other than human food unless I brought it up. Why now?”

Kun screwed his eyes shut as if he were in physical pain. “I’ve been okay as long as I was fed. But—”

“Oh my god, me coming over unannounced!”

“No, no, I just fed when I went to get your water. I don’t know if it’s something with how the potion works, but I’m afraid I’ve had to keep increasing my intake in order to stay satiated around you and I’m getting hungrier faster. So I’m very sorry, but you really need to go.”

“That’s it?” You defiantly crossed your arms over your chest.

“What?”

“You’re hungry, thirsty, whatever? That’s all?”

He slowly opened his eyes again. “Y-Yeah, I suppose.”

“You can do it without killing me, right?”

“Y/N—”

“Right?”

“Of course, but—”

“Clearly the end point of this is you starving to death. And I’m not going to let you—”

“We don’t know that. I don’t want you to feel guilted by that assumption into letting me...”

“Kun, wanting to help somebody does not equal being guilted into it!” You finally snapped at him, taking big, stomping strides towards him. “Stop being so, so… chivalrous to the point of self-flagellation! Do you honestly think that makes me feel good watching you do that? Let me help you Kun, that’s what I want, I promise.”

He held your gaze, the inky blackness feeling so much different than the scarlet red that you were used to. But… you didn’t mind it. Didn’t mind the way that the darkness trailed from your eyes to your lips to your neck and lingered there. Liked it. You knew he could hear your heartbeat thrumming in your chest, was able to pinpoint you by scent on the wide expanse of campus. What must that be like now, in such a small space, so close?

“Okay…” His voice was barely above a whisper, hoarse, as if he didn’t trust himself to talk any louder.

Kun was still holding onto the doorframe with a death grip, the wood beginning to splinter under his fingers.

“I’ve… never done this,” you prompted him quietly.

“Oh, right.” He straightened up, attempting to compose himself again. Ushering you back towards the couch, he explained, “Let’s sit down. It will be more comfortable for you that way.”

He sat down in the corner of the sofa, hiking one leg up onto it and keeping his other foot planted on the ground. Kun patted the space between his thighs for you. You sat down in front of him on the same cushion, your back so close to touching his chest that you swore you could feel the brush of his clothing against yours.

“I’m not going to overfeed, but in case you end up feeling faint anyway, you’ll fall back on me, as opposed to buckling to the floor.”

“Oh,” you said, just to fill the empty space of your side of the conversation. “Thank you.”

“Again, I’m not going to overfeed, it won’t be anything more than when you get blood drawn for tests. But just like then, I don’t want you to get up right after, okay? No matter how… good you feel.”

You were a little thrown off by his phrasing, but still nodded. “Okay.”

The vampire got even closer to you, now hovering over your right shoulder. You could hear him inhale as he paused, and a distinct thrill shot up your spine. His cool breath washed over your skin as he breathed back out, making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

Then all at once his mouth was on you. The piercing of his fangs lasted for a split second before it was all but erased from your mind by a honey sweet pleasure dripping through your whole body. You could feel the sensation of his lips sucking at your neck too, your blood trickling out from the wounds, and his tongue laving over your skin. But mostly you just felt… good. All of you thrummed from your heart to your fingertips.

A soft moan slipped past your lips as you let your head fall back onto his shoulder, giving him even more room. You felt him stiffen right after you did, as if getting ready to pull away. Reaching a hand up, you blindly grabbed for the back of his head, threading your fingers through his hair and holding him in place against your neck. Kun seemed to understand, going back to contentedly drinking from you. You relaxed fully against him, letting your eyes flutter shut. He easily kept you upright, wrapping an arm around your front to hold you close to him.

You had no way to know or even guess how much time had passed when Kun finally took his mouth off your neck. He leaned back into the corner of the couch, easing you back with him.

“Thank you, Y/N. My miracle…” He murmured, his mouth right next to your ear. A fingertip lightly graced over a patch of skin below the bite. “I’m sorry I don’t have any bite cream on hand for you, I haven’t live fed in years.”

“Mm—” You were starting to come back down from your mellowed-out state, poking at the area yourself. It was tender, duh, but not too bad. “I’ll pick some up tomorrow before class.”

“It needs to be used within fifteen minutes, prior to any normal supernatural healing process starting,” he explained with a sigh. “Again, I apologize. There will probably be some bruising for a while.”

“Kun, it’s okay.” You sat up, turning around to face him. He definitely looked better than before. His eyes were back to red, and he was much calmer. He also admittedly looked a little debauched, his hair tousled from your fingers, and a small drop of your blood smeared at the corner of his mouth.

But as you appraised him—and he licked the blood off his lip—you grew a little uneasy, realizing that something was still… off about him. Just in a different way this time.

“How are you feeling?

“I’m all better,” he confirmed with a singular, resolute nod.

You gave him a relieved smile. “Good, good. We should ask Yangyang about if it’s something with how the potion works, make sure you’re going to be okay for however much longer it’s going to last.”

Kun cleared his throat. “That will not be necessary. I am certain that the love potion is no longer in effect.”

You wanted nothing more than to burst into flames on the spot. Quickly, you scooched further down the couch from Kun as you started a blubbering attempt at a self-deprecating, deadpan apology, “Well, that’s just… awkward. I’m going to go die a hole. Uhm, forget everything, forget me, and with any luck, you’ll never have to see me again. I’m so sorry.”

And with that, you rushed to your feet, with every intent of quite literally running out of the door. Except the living room was spinning, and your head felt like a hot air balloon. Two cold hands were on your forearm and small of your back, guiding you back down onto the couch.

“Y/N, slow down,” Kun chastised you gently. “I didn’t overdrink, but you should still sit for a moment.”

You relented, but buried your face in your hands akin to the way that you so very wished that you could bury your entire self six feet under at the moment. Maybe if you didn’t say anything, Kun would just let you sit in silence until you were recovered enough to leave, and you would never have to talk about any of this ever again. Then one day you would die, and he would continue to live for eternity and eventually forget you and this whole weird six days forever. Sounded like a fantastic plan to you.

“Y/N.”

Of course not.

You pulled your face out of your hands, dragging your eyes from your feet up to his face. He didn’t smile at you tenderly like he would have before, but instead he pressed two of his cold fingers to the inside of your wrist.

“Are you… taking my pulse?” You asked. “Can’t you hear my heartbeat?”

“Blood pressure,” he answered, continuing to hold his fingertips there, and you could feel the blood in your vein pumping against them. “Vampire touch is sensitive enough that if you know what you’re feeling for then you can… Okay, that’s better.”

“Did you learn this at bloodletting school? Because I don’t know if I trust this, you might put leeches on me next.” You tried to joke, hoping it would put you at ease a little. It didn’t help.

Kun looked you dead in the eyes. “I just drank your blood, and you’re going to complain about a couple little leeches?”

You fell back against the back of the couch, covering your face with your free arm. “So instead of letting me fuck off and die in a hole on my own, you want to be the one to kill me yourself, huh?”

“Y/N.” He repeated your name in the same frank tone as before, releasing your wrist. “I have something I would like to say. To your face, preferably.”

Dropping your arm back down to your side, you sat up straight, turning to Kun and bracing yourself for whatever he had to say to you about the past six days. It could be any litany of things. Agreeing with you to never speak about it again, joint proposition to murder Yangyang, an apology from him, demand for an apology from you; you were prepared for it to truly be anything.

“I honestly wasn’t very familiar with you before this whole debacle. I’ve known Yangyang’s coven for a hundred years, and he calls on me for assistance from time to time. I only knew you as the friend of the roommate of a witch that I know.” Kun explained, and you kept as neutral of a face as possible as you listened, having absolutely no clue where he was going with this. “Just like when I was under the effects of the love potion, my memories from before it were not erased, now that it’s worn off, I do still remember the time that we spent together during it. While I am not in love with you at present, after learning as much about you as I did… I am romantically interested in you still.”

You must have been giving him the most dumbfounded expression ever, as he felt the need to tack on an explanatory, “I would like the opportunity to take you on a date— a proper one, sometime. If you would like.”

Your head was nodding before your mouth finally caught up. “Yeah, yeah. I’d really like that too.”

“I can’t... guarantee that I’ll be exactly like I was while I was under the effects of the love potion,” he forewarned you.

“Kun that’s- that’s fine,” you reassured him with a bright smile. “Like you said, we’ll just try it out. I also learned a lot about you, outside of the love potion courting stuff, that I found interesting... and liked.”

You mumbled the last part nervously, messing with your fingers.

“That makes me very happy to hear. Don’t worry, no more sonnets now, I promise.”

“Well... you don’t have to do that… if you want.”

“Oh so you did like it,” Kun teased, reclined back against the arm of the couch with a cocky smirk that you hadn’t seen on him before.

“I was flustered! And confused!”

“That’s fair. I won’t retire my quill yet, then.”

A little over a week later, and you were back at Kun’s house at his invitation. He said he had a surprise to show you, and there was no further information. His penchant for surprises was genuine.

Kun was sat at his producing desk, and you had pulled up a chair beside him to watch. He was just logging into the computer when his phone rang.

“Yangyang,” Kun snorted. He was about to reject it when you stopped him.

“You can pick it up, I don’t mind.”

“He is not important right now.” He turned his phone off, picking up one of your hands to press a cool kiss to your knuckles.

Just a second later, and your phone was buzzing. You sighed, looking at the contact, then held it up so Kun could read it. Kun rolled his eyes.

Yangyang.

You picked up the call. “Hey Yang—”

“Y/N! Hey!” The witch’s voice blared through your speakers, and you quickly had to turn your volume down.

“Yeah, hi, Yangyang. What’s up?”

“Just wanted to chat, we don’t really talk, you know?” His voice was pitched up and he talked so fast that you could barely understand all the strung-together words. “What—what are you doing? Right now?”

“I’m hanging out at Kun’s place, why—” You were cut off by your friend hanging up. Dropping your phone onto the table, you looked at the vampire knowingly. “So I think that means he’s coming over.”

Not even ten minutes later, someone was banging on Kun’s front door. Kun went to go get it as you stayed in your spot over by his producing station.

“Stop it,” Kun deadpanned in place of a greeting as he opened the door.

Yangyang rushed in without so much as a hello. Kun focused an exasperated look on him as he closed the door, then walked back over to you.

“So, what brings you here, Yangyang?” He asked, easing himself back down into his desk chair next to you.

“Alright, it was funny at first but now I’m seriously worried.” Yangyang grabbed Kun’s face, shining his phone flashlight in one of Kun’s eyes, then the other.

“Fuck!” Kun threw an arm over his eyes, pushing the witch away with the other.

“Yangyang, what the hell is wrong with you?” You yelled out, rubbing Kun’s back soothingly. Having that done to you, a human, would’ve hurt a bit; to a vampire’s more light-sensitive eyes must’ve been a searing pain at least.

Kun had recovered a little, taking one of your hands in his for comfort. You ran your thumb over his knuckles, wincing sympathetically.

He half-squinted and half-glared up at your friend. “What are you talking about?”

“It’s been like two weeks, that potion should have definitely worn off by now.” He looked down at his hands with wide eyes. “I must be more powerful than I realize.”

You scoffed. “Hate to burst your bubble, Yangyang, but it did.”

“What? No, he’s still—” Yangyang gestured frantically to your intertwined hands. “You’re still— But, Kun— Huh?”

The vampire sighed, thankfully taking the lead on explaining. “We learned a lot about each other during the experience, and have decided to pursue a real relationship. I’m no longer under the effects of the love potion.”

“That is... There’s no—” Yangyang blinked rapidly at you two. “When? How? Y/N, Kun?”

“The hell does that mean?”

“You’re like a walking, talking, undead pair of corduroy pants, I didn’t think you had it in you, outside of the love potion.”

“Have what in me? The capacity for romance?”

“I was going to say a personality, but yeah, that too!”

Kun rubbed his temples, letting out a low groan.

“For how long?”

“A week.”

“And you didn’t tell me?”

“I’m sorry, the witch who put love potion in a fucking Gorgonade bottle without telling anybody wants to complain about a lack of communication?” You retorted.

He crossed his arms with a huff. “Point taken, albeit begrudgingly. So it just finally wore off? A week ago?”

“Well, not quite...” You rubbed at your collarbone as the memory resurfaced.

“Then how—” Your friend cut himself off as his eyes zeroed in on your hand at your neck. “Oh. He— Of course! We should’ve thought of that.”

“Excuse me?” You sputtered out.

But Yangyang didn’t even acknowledge your embarrassment, too absorbed in the euphoric lightbulb moment he seemed to have just gotten. “It was a two-factor blood spell. You drank his blood to activate it—”

“Ew...” You muttered under your breath, shuddering at the memory.

“—so he had to drink yours to stop it! Duh!”

The witch was fervently typing on his phone as he spoke, now pacing with it as he buzzed with excitement.

“What are you doing?” Kun asked sternly.

“Taking notes! This is awesome!” Yangyang continued typing away. “I’m so getting an A!”

You and Kun exchanged mirrored looks of skepticism.

With a raised eyebrow, you pointed out, “Uh, but it didn’t work on me like it was supposed to, remember?”

He looked up from his phone at the two of you with the grin of a mad scientist—or, mad witch. “Look at the two of you! I’m calling this a win!”

Kun stood up, grabbing your friend’s shoulders and ushering him towards the door. “Goodbye, Yangyang.”

“Hey, wait! I wanted to ask you about— Ow!” Yangyang yelped as he was manhandled. “No fair using your freakish vamp strength! I was just going to ask if you—”

You couldn’t hear the rest of his sentence over the sound of the door slamming shut in his face. Kun turned back around, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. “If I hadn’t known his coven for a hundred years I’d have killed him by now.”

“No, you wouldn’t have,” you snickered, reaching your arms out for him. “Come here.”

Kun walked back over to you, hands outstretched to hold yours. You gave his colder ones a squeeze, smiling up at him.

“So, what were you showing me? Before he interrupted?” You prompted him.

“Right, right.” Kun sat back down, grabbing the mouse and continuing to navigate through his programs. “I’ve been composing something… and… I wanted… to… show—”

Your phone suddenly buzzed from his desk again, and this time you let out an annoyed groan. “I’m putting it on silent, sorry.”

“Yangyang again?” He asked as you grabbed the device.

“Even worse,” you cringed as you read the name.

“Who?”

“Kunhang.”

sequel :･ﾟ✧｡･:･*

⤷ blog masterlist  ⤷ anthology masterlist

[fipindustries]

Artificial Intelligence Risk

about a month ago i got into my mind the idea of trying the format of video essay, and the topic i came up with that i felt i could more or less handle was AI risk and my objections to yudkowsky. i wrote the script but then soon afterwards i ran out of motivation to do the video. still i didnt want the effort to go to waste so i decided to share the text, slightly edited here. this is a LONG fucking thing so put it aside on its own tab and come back to it when you are comfortable and ready to sink your teeth on quite a lot of reading

Anyway, let’s talk about AI risk

I’m going to be doing a very quick introduction to some of the latest conversations that have been going on in the field of artificial intelligence, what are artificial intelligences exactly, what is an AGI, what is an agent, the orthogonality thesis, the concept of instrumental convergence, alignment and how does Eliezer Yudkowsky figure in all of this.

 If you are already familiar with this you can skip to section two where I’m going to be talking about yudkowsky’s arguments for AI research presenting an existential risk to, not just humanity, or even the world, but to the entire universe and my own tepid rebuttal to his argument.

Now, I SHOULD clarify, I am not an expert on the field, my credentials are dubious at best, I am a college drop out from the career of computer science and I have a three year graduate degree in video game design and a three year graduate degree in electromechanical instalations. All that I know about the current state of AI research I have learned by reading articles, consulting a few friends who have studied about the topic more extensevily than me,

and watching educational you tube videos so. You know. Not an authority on the matter from any considerable point of view and my opinions should be regarded as such.

So without further ado, let’s get in on it.

PART ONE, A RUSHED INTRODUCTION ON THE SUBJECT

1.1 general intelligence and agency

lets begin with what counts as artificial intelligence, the technical definition for artificial intelligence is, eh…, well, why don’t I let a Masters degree in machine intelligence explain it:

 Now let’s get a bit more precise here and include the definition of AGI, Artificial General intelligence. It is understood that classic ai’s such as the ones we have in our videogames or in alpha GO or even our roombas, are narrow Ais, that is to say, they are capable of doing only one kind of thing. They do not understand the world beyond their field of expertise whether that be within a videogame level, within a GO board or within you filthy disgusting floor.

AGI on the other hand is much more, well, general, it can have a multimodal understanding of its surroundings, it can generalize, it can extrapolate, it can learn new things across multiple different fields, it can come up with solutions that account for multiple different factors, it can incorporate new ideas and concepts. Essentially, a human is an agi. So far that is the last frontier of AI research, and although we are not there quite yet, it does seem like we are doing some moderate strides in that direction. We’ve all seen the impressive conversational and coding skills that GPT-4 has and Google just released Gemini, a multimodal AI that can understand and generate text, sounds, images and video simultaneously. Now, of course it has its limits, it has no persistent memory, its contextual window while larger than previous models is still relatively small compared to a human (contextual window means essentially short term memory, how many things can it keep track of and act coherently about).

And yet there is one more factor I haven’t mentioned yet that would be needed to make something a “true” AGI. That is Agency. To have goals and autonomously come up with plans and carry those plans out in the world to achieve those goals. I as a person, have agency over my life, because I can choose at any given moment to do something without anyone explicitly telling me to do it, and I can decide how to do it. That is what computers, and machines to a larger extent, don’t have. Volition.

So, Now that we have established that, allow me to introduce yet one more definition here, one that you may disagree with but which I need to establish in order to have a common language with you such that I can communicate these ideas effectively. The definition of intelligence. It’s a thorny subject and people get very particular with that word because there are moral associations with it. To imply that someone or something has or hasn’t intelligence can be seen as implying that it deserves or doesn’t deserve admiration, validity, moral worth or even  personhood. I don’t care about any of that dumb shit. The way Im going to be using intelligence in this video is basically “how capable you are to do many different things successfully”. The more “intelligent” an AI is, the more capable of doing things that AI can be. After all, there is a reason why education is considered such a universally good thing in society. To educate a child is to uplift them, to expand their world, to increase their opportunities in life. And the same goes for AI. I need to emphasize that this is just the way I’m using the word within the context of this video, I don’t care if you are a psychologist or a neurosurgeon, or a pedagogue, I need a word to express this idea and that is the word im going to use, if you don’t like it or if you think this is innapropiate of me then by all means, keep on thinking that, go on and comment about it below the video, and then go on to suck my dick.

Anyway. Now, we have established what an AGI is, we have established what agency is, and we have established how having more intelligence increases your agency. But as the intelligence of a given agent increases we start to see certain trends, certain strategies start to arise again and again, and we call this Instrumental convergence.

1.2 instrumental convergence

The basic idea behind instrumental convergence is that if you are an intelligent agent that wants to achieve some goal, there are some common basic strategies that you are going to turn towards no matter what. It doesn’t matter if your goal is as complicated as building a nuclear bomb or as simple as making a cup of tea. These are things we can reliably predict any AGI worth its salt is going to try to do.

First of all is self-preservation. Its going to try to protect itself. When you want to do something, being dead is usually. Bad. its counterproductive. Is not generally recommended. Dying is widely considered unadvisable by 9 out of every ten experts in the field. If there is something that it wants getting done, it wont get done if it dies or is turned off, so its safe to predict that any AGI will try to do things in order not be turned off. How far it may go in order to do this? Well… [wouldn’t you like to know weather boy].

Another thing it will predictably converge towards is goal preservation. That is to say, it will resist any attempt to try and change it, to alter it, to modify its goals. Because, again, if you want to accomplish something, suddenly deciding that you want to do something else is uh, not going to accomplish the first thing, is it? Lets say that you want to take care of your child, that is your goal, that is the thing you want to accomplish, and I come to you and say, here, let me change you on the inside so that you don’t care about protecting your kid. Obviously you are not going to let me, because if you stopped caring about your kids, then your kids wouldn’t be cared for or protected. And you want to ensure that happens, so caring about something else instead is a huge no-no- which is why, if we make AGI and it has goals that we don’t like it will probably resist any attempt to “fix” it.

And finally another goal that it will most likely trend towards is self improvement. Which can be more generalized to “resource acquisition”. If it lacks capacities to carry out a plan, then step one of that plan will always be to increase capacities. If you want to get something really expensive, well first you need to get money. If you want to increase your chances of getting a high paying job then you need to get education, if you want to get a partner you need to increase how attractive you are. And as we established earlier, if intelligence is the thing that increases your agency, you want to become smarter in order to do more things. So one more time, is not a huge leap at all, it is not a stretch of the imagination, to say that any AGI will probably seek to increase its capabilities, whether by acquiring more computation, by improving itself, by taking control of resources.

All these three things I mentioned are sure bets, they are likely to happen and safe to assume. They are things we ought to keep in mind when creating AGI.

 Now of course, I have implied a sinister tone to all these things, I have made all this sound vaguely threatening, haven’t i?. There is one more assumption im sneaking into all of this which I haven’t talked about. All that I have mentioned presents a very callous view of AGI, I have made it apparent that all of these strategies it may follow will go in conflict with people, maybe even go as far as to harm humans. Am I impliying that AGI may tend to be… Evil???

1.3 The Orthogonality thesis

Well, not quite.

We humans care about things. Generally. And we generally tend to care about roughly the same things, simply by virtue of being humans. We have some innate preferences and some innate dislikes. We have a tendency to not like suffering (please keep in mind I said a tendency, im talking about a statistical trend, something that most humans present to some degree). Most of us, baring social conditioning, would take pause at the idea of torturing someone directly, on purpose, with our bare hands. (edit bear paws onto my hands as I say this).  Most would feel uncomfortable at the thought of doing it to multitudes of people. We tend to show a preference for food, water, air, shelter, comfort, entertainment and companionship. This is just how we are fundamentally wired. These things can be overcome, of course, but that is the thing, they have to be overcome in the first place.

An AGI is not going to have the same evolutionary predisposition to these things like we do because it is not made of the same things a human is made of and it was not raised the same way a human was raised.

There is something about a human brain, in a human body, flooded with human hormones that makes us feel and think and act in certain ways and care about certain things.

All an AGI is going to have is the goals it developed during its training, and will only care insofar as those goals are met. So say an AGI has the goal of going to the corner store to bring me a pack of cookies. In its way there it comes across an anthill in its path, it will probably step on the anthill because to take that step takes it closer to the corner store, and why wouldn’t it step on the anthill? Was it programmed with some specific innate preference not to step on ants? No? then it will step on the anthill and not pay any mind  to it.

Now lets say it comes across a cat. Same logic applies, if it wasn’t programmed with an inherent tendency to value animals, stepping on the cat wont slow it down at all.

Now let’s say it comes across a baby.

Of course, if its intelligent enough it will probably understand that if it steps on that baby people might notice and try to stop it, most likely even try to disable it or turn it off so it will not step on the baby, to save itself from all that trouble. But you have to understand that it wont stop because it will feel bad about harming a baby or because it understands that to harm a baby is wrong. And indeed if it was powerful enough such that no matter what people did they could not stop it and it would suffer no consequence for killing the baby, it would have probably killed the baby.

If I need to put it in gross, inaccurate terms for you to get it then let me put it this way. Its essentially a sociopath. It only cares about the wellbeing of others in as far as that benefits it self. Except human sociopaths do care nominally about having human comforts and companionship, albeit in a very instrumental way, which will involve some manner of stable society and civilization around them. Also they are only human, and are limited in the harm they can do by human limitations.  An AGI doesn’t need any of that and is not limited by any of that.

So ultimately, much like a car’s goal is to move forward and it is not built to care about wether a human is in front of it or not, an AGI will carry its own goals regardless of what it has to sacrifice in order to carry that goal effectively. And those goals don’t need to include human wellbeing.

Now With that said. How DO we make it so that AGI cares about human wellbeing, how do we make it so that it wants good things for us. How do we make it so that its goals align with that of humans?

1.4 Alignment.

Alignment… is hard [cue hitchhiker’s guide to the galaxy scene about the space being big]

This is the part im going to skip over the fastest because frankly it’s a deep field of study, there are many current strategies for aligning AGI, from mesa optimizers, to reinforced learning with human feedback, to adversarial asynchronous AI assisted reward training to uh, sitting on our asses and doing nothing. Suffice to say, none of these methods are perfect or foolproof.

One thing many people like to gesture at when they have not learned or studied anything about the subject is the three laws of robotics by isaac Asimov, a robot should not harm a human or allow by inaction to let a human come to harm, a robot should do what a human orders unless it contradicts the first law and a robot should preserve itself unless that goes against the previous two laws. Now the thing Asimov was prescient about was that these laws were not just “programmed” into the robots. These laws were not coded into their software, they were hardwired, they were part of the robot’s electronic architecture such that a robot could not ever be without those three laws much like a car couldn’t run without wheels.

In this Asimov realized how important these three laws were, that they had to be intrinsic to the robot’s very being, they couldn’t be hacked or uninstalled or erased. A robot simply could not be without these rules. Ideally that is what alignment should be. When we create an AGI, it should be made such that human values are its fundamental goal, that is the thing they should seek to maximize, instead of instrumental values, that is to say something they value simply because it allows it to achieve something else.

But how do we even begin to do that? How do we codify “human values” into a robot? How do we define “harm” for example? How do we even define “human”??? how do we define “happiness”? how do we explain a robot what is right and what is wrong when half the time we ourselves cannot even begin to agree on that? these are not just technical questions that robotic experts have to find the way to codify into ones and zeroes, these are profound philosophical questions to which we still don’t have satisfying answers to.

Well, the best sort of hack solution we’ve come up with so far is not to create bespoke fundamental axiomatic rules that the robot has to follow, but rather train it to imitate humans by showing it a billion billion examples of human behavior. But of course there is a problem with that approach. And no, is not just that humans are flawed and have a tendency to cause harm and therefore to ask a robot to imitate a human means creating something that can do all the bad things a human does, although that IS a problem too. The real problem is that we are training it to *imitate* a human, not  to *be* a human.

To reiterate what I said during the orthogonality thesis, is not good enough that I, for example, buy roses and give massages to act nice to my girlfriend because it allows me to have sex with her, I am not merely imitating or performing the rol of a loving partner because her happiness is an instrumental value to my fundamental value of getting sex. I should want to be nice to my girlfriend because it makes her happy and that is the thing I care about. Her happiness is  my fundamental value. Likewise, to an AGI, human fulfilment should be its fundamental value, not something that it learns to do because it allows it to achieve a certain reward that we give during training. Because if it only really cares deep down about the reward, rather than about what the reward is meant to incentivize, then that reward can very easily be divorced from human happiness.

Its goodharts law, when a measure becomes a target, it ceases to be a good measure. Why do students cheat during tests? Because their education is measured by grades, so the grades become the target and so students will seek to get high grades regardless of whether they learned or not. When trained on their subject and measured by grades, what they learn is not the school subject, they learn to get high grades, they learn to cheat.

This is also something known in psychology, punishment tends to be a poor mechanism of enforcing behavior because all it teaches people is how to avoid the punishment, it teaches people not to get caught. Which is why punitive justice doesn’t work all that well in stopping recividism and this is why the carceral system is rotten to core and why jail should be fucking abolish-[interrupt the transmission]

Now, how is this all relevant to current AI research? Well, the thing is, we ended up going about the worst possible way to create alignable AI.

1.5 LLMs (large language models)

This is getting way too fucking long So, hurrying up, lets do a quick review of how do Large language models work. We create a neural network which is a collection of giant matrixes, essentially a bunch of numbers that we add and multiply together over and over again, and then we tune those numbers by throwing absurdly big amounts of training data such that it starts forming internal mathematical models based on that data and it starts creating coherent patterns that it can recognize and replicate AND extrapolate! if we do this enough times with matrixes that are big enough and then when we start prodding it for human behavior it will be able to follow the pattern of human behavior that we prime it with and give us coherent responses.

(takes a big breath)this “thing” has learned. To imitate. Human. Behavior.

Problem is, we don’t know what “this thing” actually is, we just know that *it* can imitate humans.

You caught that?

What you have to understand is, we don’t actually know what internal models it creates, we don’t know what are the patterns that it extracted or internalized from the data that we fed it, we don’t know what are the internal rules that decide its behavior, we don’t know what is going on inside there, current LLMs are a black box. We don’t know what it learned, we don’t know what its fundamental values are, we don’t know how it thinks or what it truly wants. all we know is that it can imitate humans when we ask it to do so. We created some inhuman entity that is moderatly intelligent in specific contexts (that is to say, very capable) and we trained it to imitate humans. That sounds a bit unnerving doesn’t it?

 To be clear, LLMs are not carefully crafted piece by piece. This does not work like traditional software where a programmer will sit down and build the thing line by line, all its behaviors specified. Is more accurate to say that LLMs, are grown, almost organically. We know the process that generates them, but we don’t know exactly what it generates or how what it generates works internally, it is a mistery. And these things are so big and so complicated internally that to try and go inside and decipher what they are doing is almost intractable.

But, on the bright side, we are trying to tract it. There is a big subfield of AI research called interpretability, which is actually doing the hard work of going inside and figuring out how the sausage gets made, and they have been doing some moderate progress as of lately. Which is encouraging. But still, understanding the enemy is only step one, step two is coming up with an actually effective and reliable way of turning that potential enemy into a friend.

Puff! Ok so, now that this is all out of the way I can go onto the last subject before I move on to part two of this video, the character of the hour, the man the myth the legend. The modern day Casandra. Mr chicken little himself! Sci fi author extraordinaire! The mad man! The futurist! The leader of the rationalist movement!

1.5 Yudkowsky

Eliezer S. Yudkowsky  born September 11, 1979, wait, what the fuck, September eleven? (looks at camera) yudkowsky was born on 9/11, I literally just learned this for the first time! What the fuck, oh that sucks, oh no, oh no, my condolences, that’s terrible…. Moving on. he is an American artificial intelligence researcher and writer on decision theory and ethics, best known for popularizing ideas related to friendly artificial intelligence, including the idea that there might not be a "fire alarm" for AI He is the founder of and a research fellow at the Machine Intelligence Research Institute (MIRI), a private research nonprofit based in Berkeley, California. Or so says his Wikipedia page.

Yudkowsky is, shall we say, a character. a very eccentric man, he is an AI doomer. Convinced that AGI, once finally created, will most likely kill all humans, extract all valuable resources from the planet, disassemble the solar system, create a dyson sphere around the sun and expand across the universe turning all of the cosmos into paperclips. Wait, no, that is not quite it, to properly quote,( grabs a piece of paper and very pointedly reads from it) turn the cosmos into tiny squiggly  molecules resembling paperclips whose configuration just so happens to fulfill the strange, alien unfathomable terminal goal they ended up developing in training. So you know, something totally different.

And he is utterly convinced of this idea, has been for over a decade now, not only that but, while he cannot pinpoint a precise date, he is confident that, more likely than not it will happen within this century. In fact most betting markets seem to believe that we will get AGI somewhere in the mid 30’s.

His argument is basically that in the field of AI research, the development of capabilities is going much faster than the development of alignment, so that AIs will become disproportionately powerful before we ever figure out how to control them. And once we create unaligned AGI we will have created an agent who doesn’t care about humans but will care about something else entirely irrelevant to us and it will seek to maximize that goal, and because it will be vastly more intelligent than humans therefore we wont be able to stop it. In fact not only we wont be able to stop it, there wont be a fight at all. It will carry out its plans for world domination in secret without us even detecting it and it will execute it before any of us even realize what happened. Because that is what a smart person trying to take over the world would do.

This is why the definition I gave of intelligence at the beginning is so important, it all hinges on that, intelligence as the measure of how capable you are to come up with solutions to problems, problems such as “how to kill all humans without being detected or stopped”. And you may say well now, intelligence is fine and all but there are limits to what you can accomplish with raw intelligence, even if you are supposedly smarter than a human surely you wouldn’t be capable of just taking over the world uninmpeeded, intelligence is not this end all be all superpower. Yudkowsky would respond that you are not recognizing or respecting the power that intelligence has. After all it was intelligence what designed the atom bomb, it was intelligence what created a cure for polio and it was intelligence what made it so that there is a human foot print on the moon.

Some may call this view of intelligence a bit reductive. After all surely it wasn’t *just* intelligence what did all that but also hard physical labor and the collaboration of hundreds of thousands of people. But, he would argue, intelligence was the underlying motor that moved all that. That to come up with the plan and to convince people to follow it and to delegate the tasks to the appropriate subagents, it was all directed by thought, by ideas, by intelligence. By the way, so far I am not agreeing or disagreeing with any of this, I am merely explaining his ideas.

But remember, it doesn’t stop there, like I said during his intro, he believes there will be “no fire alarm”. In fact for all we know, maybe AGI has already been created and its merely bidding its time and plotting in the background, trying to get more compute, trying to get smarter. (to be fair, he doesn’t think this is right now, but with the next iteration of gpt? Gpt 5 or 6? Well who knows). He thinks that the entire world should halt AI research and punish with multilateral international treaties any group or nation that doesn’t stop. going as far as putting military attacks on GPU farms as sanctions of those treaties.

What’s more, he believes that, in fact, the fight is already lost. AI is already progressing too fast and there is nothing to stop it, we are not showing any signs of making headway with alignment and no one is incentivized to slow down. Recently he wrote an article called “dying with dignity” where he essentially says all this, AGI will destroy us, there is no point in planning for the future or having children and that we should act as if we are already dead. This doesn’t mean to stop fighting or to stop trying to find ways to align AGI, impossible as it may seem, but to merely have the basic dignity of acknowledging that we are probably not going to win. In every interview ive seen with the guy he sounds fairly defeatist and honestly kind of depressed. He truly seems to think its hopeless, if not because the AGI is clearly unbeatable and superior to humans, then because humans are clearly so stupid that we keep developing AI completely unregulated while making the tools to develop AI widely available and public for anyone to grab and do as they please with, as well as connecting every AI to the internet and to all mobile devices giving it instant access to humanity. and  worst of all: we keep teaching it how to code. From his perspective it really seems like people are in a rush to create the most unsecured, wildly available, unrestricted, capable, hyperconnected AGI possible.

We are not just going to summon the antichrist, we are going to receive them with a red carpet and immediately hand it the keys to the kingdom before it even manages to fully get out of its fiery pit.

So. The situation seems dire, at least to this guy. Now, to be clear, only he and a handful of other AI researchers are on that specific level of alarm. The opinions vary across the field and from what I understand this level of hopelessness and defeatism is the minority opinion.

I WILL say, however what is NOT the minority opinion is that AGI IS actually dangerous, maybe not quite on the level of immediate, inevitable and total human extinction but certainly a genuine threat that has to be taken seriously. AGI being something dangerous if unaligned is not a fringe position and I would not consider it something to be dismissed as an idea that experts don’t take seriously.

Aaand here is where I step up and clarify that this is my position as well. I am also, very much, a believer that AGI would posit a colossal danger to humanity. That yes, an unaligned AGI would represent an agent smarter than a human, capable of causing vast harm to humanity and with no human qualms or limitations to do so. I believe this is not just possible but probable and likely to happen within our lifetimes.

So there. I made my position clear.

BUT!

With all that said. I do have one key disagreement with yudkowsky. And partially the reason why I made this video was so that I could present this counterargument and maybe he, or someone that thinks like him, will see it and either change their mind or present a counter-counterargument that changes MY mind (although I really hope they don’t, that would be really depressing.)

Finally, we can move on to part 2

PART TWO- MY COUNTERARGUMENT TO YUDKOWSKY

I really have my work cut out for me, don’t i? as I said I am not expert and this dude has probably spent far more time than me thinking about this. But I have seen most interviews that guy has been doing for a year, I have seen most of his debates and I have followed him on twitter for years now. (also, to be clear, I AM a fan of the guy, I have read hpmor, three worlds collide, the dark lords answer, a girl intercorrupted, the sequences, and I TRIED to read planecrash, that last one didn’t work out so well for me). My point is in all the material I have seen of Eliezer I don’t recall anyone ever giving him quite this specific argument I’m about to give.

It’s a limited argument. as I have already stated I largely agree with most of what he says, I DO believe that unaligned AGI is possible, I DO believe it would be really dangerous if it were to exist and I do believe alignment is really hard. My key disagreement is specifically about his point I descrived earlier, about the lack of a fire alarm, and perhaps, more to the point, to humanity’s lack of response to such an alarm if it were to come to pass.

All we would need, is a Chernobyl incident, what is that? A situation where this technology goes out of control and causes a lot of damage, of potentially catastrophic consequences, but not so bad that it cannot be contained in time by enough effort. We need a weaker form of AGI to try to harm us, maybe even present a believable threat of taking over the world, but not so smart that humans cant do anything about it. We need essentially an AI vaccine, so that we can finally start developing proper AI antibodies. “aintibodies”

In the past humanity was dazzled by the limitless potential of nuclear power, to the point that old chemistry sets, the kind that were sold to children, would come with uranium for them to play with. We were building atom bombs, nuclear stations, the future was very much based on the power of the atom. But after a couple of really close calls and big enough scares we became, as a species, terrified of nuclear power. Some may argue to the point of overcorrection. We became scared enough that even megalomaniacal hawkish leaders were able to take pause and reconsider using it as a weapon, we became so scared that we overregulated the technology to the point of it almost becoming economically inviable to apply, we started disassembling nuclear stations across the world and to slowly reduce our nuclear arsenal.

This is all a proof of concept that, no matter how alluring a technology may be, if we are scared enough of it we can coordinate as a species and roll it back, to do our best to put the genie back in the bottle. One of the things eliezer says over and over again is that what makes AGI different from other technologies is that if we get it wrong on the first try we don’t get a second chance. Here is where I think he is wrong: I think if we get AGI wrong on the first try, it is more likely than not that nothing world ending will happen. Perhaps it will be something scary, perhaps something really scary, but unlikely that it will be on the level of all humans dropping dead simultaneously due to diamonoid bacteria. And THAT will be our Chernobyl, that will be the fire alarm, that will be the red flag that the disaster monkeys, as he call us, wont be able to ignore.

Now WHY do I think this? Based on what am I saying this? I will not be as hyperbolic as other yudkowsky detractors and say that he claims AGI will be basically a god. The AGI yudkowsky proposes is not a god. Just a really advanced alien, maybe even a wizard, but certainly not a god.

Still, even if not quite on the level of godhood, this dangerous superintelligent AGI yudkowsky proposes would be impressive. It would be the most advanced and powerful entity on planet earth. It would be humanity’s greatest achievement.

It would also be, I imagine, really hard to create. Even leaving aside the alignment bussines, to create a powerful superintelligent AGI without flaws, without bugs, without glitches, It would have to be an incredibly complex, specific, particular and hard to get right feat of software engineering. We are not just talking about an AGI smarter than a human, that’s easy stuff, humans are not that smart and arguably current AI is already smarter than a human, at least within their context window and until they start hallucinating. But what we are talking about here is an AGI capable of outsmarting reality.

We are talking about an AGI smart enough to carry out complex, multistep plans, in which they are not going to be in control of every factor and variable, specially at the beginning. We are talking about AGI that will have to function in the outside world, crashing with outside logistics and sheer dumb chance. We are talking about plans for world domination with no unforeseen factors, no unexpected delays or mistakes, every single possible setback and hidden variable accounted for. Im not saying that an AGI capable of doing this wont be possible maybe some day, im saying that to create an AGI that is capable of doing this, on the first try, without a hitch, is probably really really really hard for humans to do. Im saying there are probably not a lot of worlds where humans fiddling with giant inscrutable matrixes stumble upon the right precise set of layers and weight and biases that give rise to the Doctor from doctor who, and there are probably a whole truckload of worlds where humans end up with a lot of incoherent nonsense and rubbish.

Im saying that AGI, when it fails, when humans screw it up, doesn’t suddenly become more powerful than we ever expected, its more likely that it just fails and collapses. To turn one of Eliezer’s examples against him, when you screw up a rocket, it doesn’t accidentally punch a worm hole in the fabric of time and space, it just explodes before reaching the stratosphere. When you screw up a nuclear bomb, you don’t get to blow up the solar system, you just get a less powerful bomb.

He presents a fully aligned AGI as this big challenge that humanity has to get right on the first try, but that seems to imply that building an unaligned AGI is just a simple matter, almost taken for granted. It may be comparatively easier than an aligned AGI, but my point is that already unaligned AGI is stupidly hard to do and that if you fail in building unaligned AGI, then you don’t get an unaligned AGI, you just get another stupid model that screws up and stumbles on itself the second it encounters something unexpected. And that is a good thing I’d say! That means that there is SOME safety margin, some space to screw up before we need to really start worrying. And further more, what I am saying is that our first earnest attempt at an unaligned AGI will probably not be that smart or impressive because we as humans would have probably screwed something up, we would have probably unintentionally programmed it with some stupid glitch or bug or flaw and wont be a threat to all of humanity.

Now here comes the hypothetical back and forth, because im not stupid and I can try to anticipate what Yudkowsky might argue back and try to answer that before he says it (although I believe the guy is probably smarter than me and if I follow his logic, I probably cant actually anticipate what he would argue to prove me wrong, much like I cant predict what moves Magnus Carlsen would make in a game of chess against me, I SHOULD predict that him proving me wrong is the likeliest option, even if I cant picture how he will do it, but you see, I believe in a little thing called debating with dignity, wink)

What I anticipate he would argue is that AGI, no matter how flawed and shoddy our first attempt at making it were, would understand that is not smart enough yet and try to become smarter, so it would lie and pretend to be an aligned AGI so that it can trick us into giving it access to more compute or just so that it can bid its time and create an AGI smarter than itself. So even if we don’t create a perfect unaligned AGI, this imperfect AGI would try to create it and succeed, and then THAT new AGI would be the world ender to worry about.

So two things to that, first, this is filled with a lot of assumptions which I don’t know the likelihood of. The idea that this first flawed AGI would be smart enough to understand its limitations, smart enough to convincingly lie about it and smart enough to create an AGI that is better than itself. My priors about all these things are dubious at best. Second, It feels like kicking the can down the road. I don’t think creating an AGI capable of all of this is trivial to make on a first attempt. I think its more likely that we will create an unaligned AGI that is flawed, that is kind of dumb, that is unreliable, even to itself and its own twisted, orthogonal goals.

And I think this flawed creature MIGHT attempt something, maybe something genuenly threatning, but it wont be smart enough to pull it off effortlessly and flawlessly, because us humans are not smart enough to create something that can do that on the first try. And THAT first flawed attempt, that warning shot, THAT will be our fire alarm, that will be our Chernobyl. And THAT will be the thing that opens the door to us disaster monkeys finally getting our shit together.

But hey, maybe yudkowsky wouldn’t argue that, maybe he would come with some better, more insightful response I cant anticipate. If so, im waiting eagerly (although not TOO eagerly) for it.

Part 3 CONCLUSSION

So.

After all that, what is there left to say? Well, if everything that I said checks out then there is hope to be had. My two objectives here were first to provide people who are not familiar with the subject with a starting point as well as with the basic arguments supporting the concept of AI risk, why its something to be taken seriously and not just high faluting wackos who read one too many sci fi stories. This was not meant to be thorough or deep, just a quick catch up with the bear minimum so that, if you are curious and want to go deeper into the subject, you know where to start. I personally recommend watching rob miles’ AI risk series on youtube as well as reading the series of books written by yudkowsky known as the sequences, which can be found on the website lesswrong. If you want other refutations of yudkowsky’s argument you can search for paul christiano or robin hanson, both very smart people who had very smart debates on the subject against eliezer.

The second purpose here was to provide an argument against Yudkowskys brand of doomerism both so that it can be accepted if proven right or properly refuted if proven wrong. Again, I really hope that its not proven wrong. It would really really suck if I end up being wrong about this. But, as a very smart person said once, what is true is already true, and knowing it doesn’t make it any worse. If the sky is blue I want to believe that the sky is blue, and if the sky is not blue then I don’t want to believe the sky is blue.

This has been a presentation by FIP industries, thanks for watching.

[idyllicwillowtree]

Vickie's Friend - Part 2

Genre: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: You and Steve are both very protective of your friends.

Word count: 3K

Warnings: use of y/n, silly goose!Steve, fluff, trying not to out somebody

Author’s note: Sorry this took so long! I got some of the inspo from an episode of Friends

Main Masterlist

Part 1

Saturday, March 22, 1986

“I mean, it’s hilarious! I could never place what Tammy Thompson sounded like but Robin got it spot on,” Vickie enthused.

“Yeah, it’s a Muppet joke. The muppets are always funny,” you replied, focusing more on the stack of new books you were arranging on the shelf. Vickie twirled around the bookstore you both worked at, following you as you did most of the work.

“My point is that when I compared Tammy to Kermit the Frog she laughed. And not like a fake laugh either, like a real, genuine laugh. It was perfect.”

“But…?” you waved the book in your hand, gesturing for her to continue.

“But I’ve been trying really hard to stop that thing where my mouth moves faster than my brain so there was just that weird awkward silence you get when you want to keep talking with the person but you don't know what to say but I had like a million things I wanted to say but I suppressed the shit out of that so I wouldn’t keep talking and talking and talking and I’m doing it right now, aren’t I?” Vickie gasped slightly, forgetting to breathe during her run on sentence.

Sending your friend a tight lipped smile, you say, “yeah, you are.”

“I’m hopeless,” Vickie exhales and leans against the bookshelf you were organizing.

“Eh,” you turn to lean next to her, “we both are.”

“If only we could like, combine,” Vickie said, intertwining her own fingers together.

“Combine?”

“Just think about it. I know exactly what I want, and I’ve found the girl of my dreams, but I can't get the courage to ask her out. Meanwhile, you go on a million dates and you have no idea what you want. So if we just combined, all our problems would be solved.”

She was right, you had gone on what felt like a million first dates with no plans for a second one in sight. Unfortunately, Vickie is forgetting a crucial flaw in her hypothetical plan.

“Vickie?”

“Yeah?”

“Did you forget about Dan again?”

Your best friend’s face dropped as she blinked rapidly at you. “Right…Dan…”

“It’s alright, Vick. As long as you break up with him before you and Robin do anything, you’re good,” you say with a teasing smile.

“Robin and I aren’t going to do anything!” her fair cheeks flooded with pink.

“Okay sure, whatever you say.”

Vickie rolled her eyes in defense before gasping, “Ooh, I found our next book club book!” Her jewelry started clanking together as she jogged across the store. 

You sighed dramatically at her attempt to change the subject, “I still don’t understand why we call it a club if it’s just us-”

Vickie spun around to show off the novel she chose, “‘Sense and Sensibility’ by the one and only, Jane Austen.”

 “Ugh, you know I don’t do historical fiction,” you grimace.

“But it’s about doomed love!”

“That’s relatable,” you scoffed

“Precisely,” Vickie said with a smile, already grabbing you your own copy.

_______________________________________________

Friday, April 4th, 1986

Steve did end up asking you out after your volunteer shifts at the High School. You both were awkward and giddy about it but it was comforting to know that he was just as nervous as you were. You found him to be very charming and endearing and you were excited to get to know him better.

Your first date was very sweet and simple. There wasn’t as much to do because of all the businesses that had to close due to the earthquake, so he took you to a diner that had managed to stay afloat.

You were having a great time, the spark of electricity you felt when you flirted with him that first day flooded through your body the second he came to pick you up, and it continued as you sat and ate your food. Your topic of conversation quickly transitioned to Robin and Vickie.

“And then the guy goes, ‘what? There’s no ‘b’ in rose.’ and the other guy goes ‘there was in this one!’” Steve looked at you with anticipation in his eyes and a big grin on his face. You blinked at him, still waiting for the punchline. He sagged slightly, realizing you didn’t get his joke, “it’s funnier when Robin tells it.”

“I’m sure it is,” you teased. “Robin is very funny.”

He rolled his eyes playfully and sent you a lopsided smile that sent butterflies to your stomach.

“Speaking of Robin…her and Vickie have been talking a lot on the phone,” you said, trying to sound nonchalant. You eyed him closely, assessing his reaction.

His eyes jumped around nervously as he took an extra long drink from his milkshake. You could already read him like a book, he was very obviously stalling.

Steve cleared his throat, “yeah, they seem to like each other a lot.”

You leaned forward, trying to invade his space a bit, “Steven Harrington… What do you know?” your voice was low and suggestive. It made Steve’s heart skip a beat, although he wasn’t sure if it was from his attraction to you or from nerves. He has spent so long keeping Robin’s secret, he didn’t want to accidentally out her and make her the ‘town’s pariah’, as she liked to say.

Little did he know, you made the same promise to Vickie.

When Steve kept his mouth closed, you sighed and said “okay, but if you found out on your own, that would be okay, and then we could talk about it, right?”

Steve had an idea as to what you were referring to, but he needed to tread lightly just in case. “Well, then it wouldn’t be a secret. So, yeah that would be okay,” he said carefully.

You eyed him for a moment, seeing if he’d break first. 

He squinted his eyes back at you, “do you know something?”

“Do you know something?” you said quickly.

“I might know something.”

“I might know something, too.”

“What’s the thing you know?”

“Oh no, Steve. I can’t tell you until you tell me what you know.”

He shrugged softly, “I can’t tell you what I know.”

“Well then, I can’t tell you what I know.”

“Okay, fine.”

“Fine.”

You both sat there in awkward silence as you contemplated what the other was saying. Or not saying in this case. Anxiously gnawing at the dead skin of your thumb as you looked out the diner window, you could feel Steve staring at you, watching you suspiciously.

_______________________________________________

Saturday, April 5th, 1986

You and Steve were so excited to see each other again that you planned your second date for the very next day. Unfortunately, you had to cancel.

You didn’t want to postpone, especially since you were still eagerly still waiting to kiss him, but you had to. Vickie and Robin were finally going to hang out together and you wanted to spy. Some would probably call it stalking, but you didn’t care. 

Being Vickie’s only friend that she trusted enough to share her secret with came with a lot of pros and cons. On the plus side you were honored that she trusted you, but on the other hand Vickie can talk a lot and it can get to be a bit draining. You earned the right to spy a little on their first date. 

Also, Robin could be a serial killer. You never know. Stranger things have happened in Hawkins.

Steve actually told you, when you called him to reschedule, that he was about to cancel as well. He had some excuse that you weren’t really paying attention to, you were just excited that he wanted to eventually see you again. 

You hung up the phone with a smile still on your face. Immediately, it started ringing again. “Hawkins’ Book Attic, how may I help you?”

“Hey Y/N, is Vickie there?”

Of course it was Robin. 

“Hi Robin! Yeah just a second,” you pulled the phone away from your face before shouting, “Vickie! Phone’s for you!”

“Thanks Y/N, I’ll take it from the break room.” Vickie shouted from the back.

You returned the phone to your ear, covering the mouthpiece, so you can hear when Vickie picks it up.

“Hello?” you heard Vickie say.

You were about to hang up when you heard Robin say, “hey baby!”

That’s new, you thought. Against your better judgment, you continued to listen.

“Hey hun, I was just thinking about you.”

Your eyes widened. You looked around, making sure no one was watching you before you realized there was no one else in the store. It’s been closed while you and your co-workers cleaned up the place. The building itself wasn’t destroyed like some of the other businesses in town were, but it definitely left a mess with all the knocked over shelves and books.

“Awh, that’s sweet. I just wanted to check to see if we’re still hanging out after your shift?”

Ah, yes. The date you were planning to spy on.

Vickie giggled sweetly, “of course, Robin! I’ll pick you up after work and we’ll head over to that wildflower field by the quarry.”

You hung up after that, that’s all the intel you needed for your mission.

_______________________________________________

Luckily for you, your shift at the bookstore ended at the same time as Vickie’s. You managed to get to the field before them since Vickie needed to go pick up Robin. You found some street parking in a neighborhood nearby to ensure that your best friend didn’t see your car. You smoothly parallel parked in front of a dark brown BMW to start your stake out. 

You focused on the road that was perpendicular to the street you were stationed on. Only when you saw Vickie’s blue hand-me-down Ford Cortina drive by did you grab your bag and exit the car, starting the short trek to the woods surrounding the open field of colorful wildflowers.

Spotting the two girls from a distance was easy with Vickie’s fire-red hair and Robin’s towering height. The tricky part was finding a suitable hiding spot. 

Glancing around the wooded area you noticed a tall tree nearby. Before you could assess the strength of the branches you heard the rustling of a giant bush at the perimeter of the field a few feet away from you, followed by whispered curses. Denim clad legs were sticking out of the green shrubbery as a man was trying to wedge himself through it. You’d know those white sneakers (and that fine ass) anywhere.

“Steve?” 

You heard a hollow “thunk” as Steve jumped in surprise, his head hitting one of the branches. He slowly emerged as he rubbed the back of his skull with a grimace. He was wearing giant women’s sunglasses and a long blonde wig that now sat lopsided on his head.

“O-oh, hey Y/N,” he said sheepishly.

You let out a surprised snort at his appearance, before realization bloomed in your chest. You smirked, knowingly.

“What are you doing here, Steve?”

Steve shuffled to the side, trying to block your view of Robin and Vickie setting up their picnic.

“Nothing,” he said quickly.

“Okay…what are you wearing?” you said suspiciously, tugging a leaf out of the synthetic fibers of his wig before crossing your arms.

Steve immediately paled.  He snatched the jumbo lady glasses off his face, showing you his panicked brown eyes. What excuse could he come up with for wearing this in the middle of the woods instead of going on your second date?

“Uh…it’s just-...you see-”

“Is that Robin and Vickie?” you interrupted, craning your neck to look over Steve’s shoulder, pretending like you had just noticed them.

“What? Uh, n-no I don’t think so.”

He was such a bad liar.

“Yeah it is! Let’s go say hi-”

“NO!” Steve’s voice echoed across the field, making Vickie and Robin glance in their direction. Before they could see, you gripped Steve’s shoulders and pulled him down to crouch behind the shrub he was trying to hide in moments before.

“What are you-”

“Shut up, Harrington. Do you want to blow our cover?” you frantically whispered, peaking around the leaves carefully to see Robin handing Vickie a pink sparkly drink with a glimmering smile on her face.

Steve gasped dramatically. “I knew it! You’ve known this whole time?”

“Oh please, you knew nothing,” you said with a giggle.

“Okay fine, but I had my suspicions,” he grinned at you. Finally, he had someone to talk to about Robin’s love life. You two already had an immediate connection, but this solidified his attraction to you even more.

“Ooh! Wait, I came prepared too.” You swiveled, turning your back to him as you dug through your bag. He watched as you pulled something out that you placed on your face. Then you whipped out a baseball cap that you tucked your hair into before placing it on your head. You spun back around to face him again, “ta-da!”

He let out a surprised snort, similar to the one you gave when you saw him in his disguise. You had stuck a dark black mustache to your upper lip, wiggling your nose like a rabbit to show it off.

You both continued to laugh as quietly as you could at the absurdity of the situation you were in. Somehow, you both separately planned on canceling your second date, dressing up in a disguise, and spying on your friends. 

“We need higher ground, I think,” Steve whispered after his laughs had died down.

“Come on,” you gripped his hand, ignoring the tingling sensation it gave you, and dragged him to the tree you were planning on scaling earlier.

You helped hoist each other up, finding two parallel branches that were sturdy enough for you and Steve to sit across from each other on. It was the perfect spot to spy on Robin and Vickie with the opening in the tree leaves, while still staying hidden. Steve rested a foot on your branch as he got comfortable. You were close enough to him that his spare knee was in between yours. 

Your legs swung lazily underneath you as you admired him, happy to have someone to share this moment with. 

“Look, look, look,” Steve whispered excitingly, leaning towards you more as he pointed towards your friends.

Angling your body to get a look, you didn’t realize how close your faces had gotten, but Steve did. He nearly fell out of the tree when he got a whiff of your sweet perfume. He held his breath as he subtly studied your face, scrunched in concentration before lighting up with excitement.  Despite the fake mustache, you were the prettiest person he had ever seen.

“I can’t believe it. Robin is feeding her! And it's a strawberry? That’s like the sexiest food,” you snickered. Turning to see Steve’s reaction, you almost bumped noses with him. 

Both of you froze, no one was leaning in, but no one was pulling away either. 

After what felt like forever you whispered, “Hey Steve?”

“Yeah?” he replied, equally breathless. 

“Have you ever kissed a woman with a mustache before?”

He beamed at you, eyes sparking with humor. “Can’t say that I have,” he glanced at your lips, “have you ever kissed a guy wearing his mom’s old halloween wig?”

Before you could stop it, you snorted right in his face. Luckily, it made him smile even more.

He gently held your cheek as you placed your hand on his leg that was still propped up on the branch you were sitting on. Your heart was practically bruising your ribcage as it pumped in anticipation. Steve’s face heated up even more as you both started to lean in. 

Before your lips could touch, his foot shifted and you lost your balance, sending both of you tumbling out of the tree, breaking branches along the way.

Steve landed on his back in the plush grass below, it wouldn’t have hurt if you didn’t land directly on top of him. The breath in his lungs got pushed out as he let out a loud “oof” that quickly dissolved into laughter. Once you realized he was okay, you began to full body laugh alongside him. 

Both your disguises got lost in the chaos, he could finally get a good look at you. You were still laying on top of him as his brown eyes stared happily up at you, ignoring the leaves and debris that were still raining from your fall.

It’s like deja-vu, time slows as you stare into each other's eyes, slowly leaning forward yet again.

“a-hem!” 

Both your heads whipped to the side to see Robin, now only a few feet away from you, glaring disapprovingly at Steve with her hands on her hips. Vickie had her arms crossed and her furrowing brows were directed towards you.

“Our cover has been blown!” you say to Steve.

“Retreat! Retreat! Abort mission,” Steve said, a grin still plastered on his face as you both hopped up and ran through the woods, hand-in-hand. Robin and Vickie watched you both go, listening as the sounds of maniacal laughter echoed throughout the woods, fading away the further you got.

Both of you made it back to your cars, still laughing through your heavy breathing. Steve didn’t waste time catching his breath before gripping the back of your head and planted his lips to yours.

You were still giddy with laughter as you kissed him back, wrapping your arms around his neck in an attempt to get closer. He snaked his arms around your waist as he walked you backwards, pining you to his car. 

You pulled back for air, still nuzzling your nose against his. Both of you were still smiling like a couple of idiots as happiness and adrenaline flowed through your veins. 

You continued to pant in each other’s faces before you whispered, “hey Steve?”

Steve pecked your lips again, “yeah?”

“So… you know that Fast Times tape we returned a couple weeks ago?”

_______________________________________________

Thanks for reading!

Tags:

@johnricharddeacycy

@stormwellsstuff

@impossibelle

@kennedy-brooke

@heyyimmisunderstood

[writersdelight]

sir pentious x cannibal!m!reader hcs, strangers to lovers pretty please :D

Sir Pentious x M! Cannibal! Reader HCs

Word count: 455

———————————————————————

→ Content: Mentions of cannabilism, Sir Pentious being a dork, fluff, male reader, like a lot of fluff. NOT PROOF READ.

→ Author's note: THIS ASK. LOVE THE PROMPT, Sir Pentious feels sort of unappreciated in contrast to Vox/Alastor/Lucifer/Adam, ykwim? I loved him sm in the pilot

———————————————————————

- You two meet after Charlie rallies the cannibals for the battle with Heaven

- You approach the snake demon out of curiosity. He doesn’t exactly seem like a powerhouse or anything so why is he here to fight?

- You strike up a conversation with and he seems alright enough. He’s more focused on other things, some weird little egg things? They look adorable… kind of delicious but adorable.

- He doesn’t seem to mind you much. He seems nice. Again, not sure how he’ll be helpful against Angels, but he’s a snake, maybe he’ll swallow them whole or something, that’s snake behavior

- That’s where you sort of catch him off guard honestly. “ Are you excited to find out what Angels taste like? My speculation is.. somewhat of a mix between poultry and person. Perhaps with some holy charm dashed in, whatever holiness tastes like.”

- He deadass doesn’t know how to respond. He’s not a cannibal.

- “…..cat got your tongue?” He explains that he will not be eating anyone! Eh.. more for you and your fellow cannibals. “ Your loss.. say, you got a name?”

- Upon first impression, he thinks you’re odd.. like he knows that’s just how cannibals are, but still!

- Over the next few days, you find more and more opportunities to talk to him. He’s an inventor apparently! Those little egg guys adore him (and seem to not have all the lights on upstairs). His poker face is nonexistent thanks to his hat… all fun things.

- You’re pretty sure the Princess of Hell starts trying to play matchmaker when she sees how much you try to talk to him. You find him charming, that’s not a crime

- He does actually start to feel flustered around you after you show so much interest in him

- While he is attracted to men and women, I would peg him as less experienced with men. Luckily, he’s just as shit and flustered as he is when flirting with women

- “ Ssssoo.. I- I- sssee you’re not doing anything right now.. would you like to.. go on a ssstroll right now-with-me??”

- It’s sweet.. endearing that he’s such a train wreck. Of course you agree to go on what is totally not a date

- He chickened out of a kiss that he had tried so hard to set up, but it’s fine.. you choose to be the bolder one. It’s a nice moment with the battle being just days away..

[blood-orange-juice]

So.

Why I think Sandrone might be Mary-Ann Guillotin. Spoilers for Fontaine side quests.

*

Smoke and mirrors

As we have noticed in Liyue, Inazuma and Sumeru (and to an extent in Mondstadt) we do not normally *see* Harbingers until they appear for the final act, only the mechanisms they set in motion.

(Childe is an outlier and it's not like he's done anything productive yet)

Also most of Harbingers' lore so far has been dropped through things in the overworld (Signora's and Scaramouche's stories are in artifact sets, and Dottore's research notes are all over Sumeru). Somehow we have nothing on Arle's and Sandrone's backgrounds so far, which means we likely have something and we just don't know it yet.

Also Arlecchino is all over the plot, so I assume the important Harbinger in this chapter is Sandrone, everything else is an entertaining show to distract us. If she only appears in the final act, it would make sense if her exposition is done through lore tidbits scattered across the map.

*

Who Framed Roger Rabbit

Now another angle.

I'm almost sure that the contradictory verdict is caused by a certain someone's connection to the Primordial sea. (I'll eat my HoD artifact set if it's not. not like it's a good set but eh)

So whoever framed that certain someone needs to: 1. Know how the Oratrice works (either an engineering genius or they know an engineering genius) 2. Know about the Primordial sea and the Abyss (a gentle reminder that Vaucher knew about its properties through Jakob) 3. Have a motive

Idk, the combination of the first two *screams* Narcissenkreuz to me. I assume the motive is destabilizing Fontaine's energy system. It furthers Harbingers' goals and it would be too lucky a coincidence if it was someone else. So... A Narcissenkreuzer and a Harbinger. Noice.

We have Mary-Ann disappearing during that accident in Elynas without a trace. No body was found. Sus. We know Alain founded the Research Institute and worked on his own projects until death from old age. He could have transfered his consciousness into a robot. Also someone else could have.

(maybe the big robot is Alain then. as they say in Mondstadt, ehe)

(from Enigmatic Page XII, I can't guess who the author is)

*

Other characters' voicelines

Since Scaramouche's line about her says Sandrone is nowhere near an engineering genius and has produced a "copious amount of garbage", I assume it's not Alain. Mary-Ann it is then. She has her brother's old designs and theories but that's it.

Then there's Childe's voiceline about Sandrone:

When it was added I assumed it was about how clueless Childe can be about the consequences of his actions, but also what if he really didn't do anything (poor boy. everyone is so quick to suspect the worst about him).

We know that Mary-Ann and Alain had a big falling out with Rene and Jakob because of the Abyss research and what they did to Carter. If Sandrone is in fact Mary-Ann, it's possible that whatever Childe is just reminds her of Jakob. Or of Carter. Sorry Childe, your existence is just a trigger for the poor traumatised girl.

*

Summarising all that: guys, gals, fellow Romans and other forms of life, it's Sandrone. Everything in Fontaine is about Sandrone.

*

Things this theory doesn't account for unless you squint really hard.

- They don't look much alike but then a lot of years have passed and we have Herta from HSR and the way her appearance shifts slightly with each new puppet.

However, they also don't look that different.

- Why did Lyney need to investigate the Oratrice? If at least one Harbinger knows how it functions then what is left there to investigate? Maybe he was trying to tamper with it, of course. Or maybe they know the Gnosis is in there.

But then the Harbingers aren't exactly known for good communication between coworkers.

- If Mary-Ann is alive, why did she leave her brother behind? Why didn't she go back for Seymour?

I have no good answer for this, so this is likely proof that Sandrone is not Mary-Ann then.

(maybe she doesn't know Seymour is alive and he will recognize her sometime later in the story, of course)

- Who was the familiar voice Lyney heard near the Oratrice? It's not familiar enough to recognise but someone known to him. I doubt he knows Sandrone subordinates or met Sandrone herself. Or maybe he's lying and it's someone he recognises and wants to protect. Or maybe, as Cricket says in their post, that was a distraction too.

- Also there's Rene who happily dissolved into collective consciousness and no one heard of him after that. He could know any kind of things (including how the Oratrice works and what's happening with the primordial seawater) and it's a stretch of course, but any of the Harbingers (Arle included) could be working with him. Anyway, where's Rene?

Thank you for coming to my TED talk.

[dinums]

Secrets and Broken Hearts

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

Chapter 4

Thomas Shelby x (Writer) Reader

"I am a woman in love, I wear my heart on my sleeve and smile with not a single thought. I am a woman in love, happily content to where I shall be and where I shall go, as long as I am with him."

Authors Note: I made this story with not much thought, but I wanted to portray the reader and Tommy living their separate lives to have you, readers, have a gist on what its like, to make the character, Ms. Bennett feels real. I don't really know if that makes sense or if I'm doing it correctly, but please enjoy :)))

Two days and six hours, it's been exactly two days and six hours since I've started this investigation that I burdened myself with. All I've been getting are bits of information from the men and women. Women loved to gossip, so much so that they became one of the sources of said information. These missing wives, they had nothing in common with one another. They were just normal working women before they got married and settled down. What would society even do with them? I feel like a jester, juggling my social life together with this secret double life. I never really got used to such taxing activities mentally. This whole investigation, could it be some murderer? Human Traffickers? Surely, this culprit had a motive, a reason, something these women had that they wanted, something these women can give, choice or not.

"Why does everyone call you by your last name?" Andrew suddenly asked, which made me look over at the small child playing by the racks of clothes in William's shop.

Tilting my head, I seem to not know the reason behind it either. Andrew is the son of the man I visited to get close to have more information about the missing wives rather than relying on gossip alone. The child himself was quite entertaining to be around. He spoke so freely about his mother, telling stories of how loving the woman can be.

"Well, if you want, you can call me by my first name," I said with a smile. Walking over to crouch down to his eye level, I gave him a pat on the head, which earned me a smile in return

"Isn't this a sight, hm?" I heard the familiar voice of William from behind. He was at the back with Catherine earlier, presumably sorting out fabrics and dresses.

"C'mon, I've only offered to let this little guy stay here while his father worked, for the assurance that nothing will happen," I said softly though assuming from their reactions, it wasnt taken quite kindly. The statement itself was considered a lie. I lied. Lying straight to the face of the man I love, like how I would every day to everyone, including this child.

"So you don't want me here... Ms. (Y/N)?" Andrew asked me, his face looked sad, eyes like melting glaciers about to fall.

"Of course not, I just meant that I couldn't risk you being alone without your father, even though -"

"So you care for me.. right?" The little child said, hopeful, which made me think, how can he care about my feelings towards him in such a small amount of time we've been together? Children truly are innocent, things to be kept safe from the world we live in. Furthermore, care. To care is to help, a genuine action done out of the kindness of one's own heart. I do that, correct? I think for a moment, my actions, words, and emotions all contradict one another. Both men in the room seemed to take notice of my silence, which in turn made me aware. Aware that they can never know these thoughts, to Bury it, to hide. Breaking from my thoughts, I smiled at the child.

"Of course I do, but later your father will pick you up, I'll have William stay with you since I need to go for a bit, yeah?" Standing back up, I walked over to William. He then wrapped his arms around my waist, leaning against him while I looked back at Andrew. Understandingly, the child nodded, which made me smile.

"Eh? Where will my heart go? Guess she'll leave me alone once again..." William joked, kissing me on the cheek, which made me chuckle.

Seeing the display of affection, the child grimaced and then ran off to play somewhere else, which made me and William laugh.

"I promised you a date. Therefore, you must let me go for a while to prepare," I giggled. Going to dates on Friday was kind of like our tradition, a simple act to show love and to feel it radiate from each other. Feeling his lips on mine for a brief moment, I smiled.

"Alright, I'll pick you up at our place," William smiled. He's always such a loving man, doing more than beyond.

"See you later, love," I said, parting with a kiss before I headed out. Love was something I wasn't familiar with, which sometimes led me to be confused on how to act around William, though lucky enough that he guided me through it.

Walking down the street, I'm greeted with familiar faces. Some I can't remember the names. The smoke filled air, and the mud on my shoes did little to dampen my mood. Suddenly, people started to run about, screaming and shouting.

Confused, I slowed my footsteps. There, on a shop, a lifeless man was dead with Danny holding a bloody knife. My eyes widened, I tried to move, but nothing came out, I held my breath, and though I investigated crimes like this, I never saw a man dead right in front of me. From this day, I'm sure I'll never get used to this.

Someone passes by me, but it can be considered more like shoved. It was Thomas Shelby. He went over, took the knife from the man's hand, and calmed him down. The scene deescalated just as quickly as it happened. Once Thomas got Danny to go away, coming with some surge of confidence, I began to walk towards him with his hack turned to me.

"Mr. Shelby..?" I said softly as to not startle the man, whipping his head back, he looked at me without uttering a word, he simply raised a brow which I took as a cue to keep going.

"What will happen to Danny now..? He just -" stopping myself to look at the dead body in front of us, he followed my gaze and just shook his head. Taking a cigarette, he lit one up and placed it on his mouth, blowing the smoke in the corpses' direction. "Mr. Shelby, I worry for him and his family.."

"Don't stick your nose into others' business, saves you the trouble, eh?" He said, as he was about to walk past me. He took my hand and gave me a few quids, which caused me confusion. Was this for my silence? Though that seems rather odd since a quarter of the town already saw what happened, or was it so I'd stop with being so nosy?

"For the bread."

"Bread? What bread?" I asked, my brows furrowed as I looked up at the man. The more he acted, the more he perplexed me. Seeing his face, he tilted his head as if he should be confused

"You dont remember, again?" I shook my head, remembering what he gave me moments ago, i tried to have him take the money back, but he refused, saying he already gave them, so it'll be no use. In the end, he walked away and left me be, confused, I placed the coins inside my coat pocket before walking home. What did i forget again? No matter what I have other things to do at the moment, I need to get the memory of the dead body out my head.

After preparing for my date, at eight o'clock sharp there was a knock on the door, I smiled and opened it. William appeared with a bouquet and fresh smile, I'm taken back to memories when he was still courting me.

"Flowers for the beautiful lady?" He asked, which I gladly took. Holding up his hand, I held them. I locked the door, and we began to walk towards the pathway to a small restaurant.

"Thank you for this, for everything, Will," I said while we kept walking hand in hand.

"Then I should thank you too"

"For what?"

"For letting me love you"

"Then, you're welcome."

With that, we spent the rest of the day together, I told him about what happened earlier, and he's told me of stories he heard and so on. Everything feels nice. It feels like home as we both made it out to be.

...

That night, Ms. Bennett was content with her lover. Everything played out perfectly. She lived a good life and was happily in love. Maybe fate can say the same for the man she bumped into earlier as he's inside the Garrison, enthralled by the singing Barmaid before him. Surely both Ms. Bennett and Mr. Shelby will live their lives with love found in someone else's eyes.

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Immortal Beloved - Chapter Two.

Well, here we go with the next instalment, guys. I won't lie, I'm a bit disheartened that chapter one did not do as well as the prologue. I just hope that's because people are busy and haven't gotten around to it yet, rather than 'oh, this sucks, not reading it any longer.' Sadly because of events not too long ago, that's exactly where my worried little mind always goes :( Huge thanks to all of you who have interacted, though. Maybe I can encourage some of you who don't already to leave a comment, or reblog it? It would mean the world to your hardworking author.

Previous chapters - Prologue One

Tag list - In the comments

Words - 3,700

Warnings - Adult themes + vampire content throughout. Minors DNI!

“Holy shit.” Patting his pocket quickly, he was mildly dismayed to find himself without the silver letter opener he had stashed in there, the only thing made of the metal he could find that would work as a weapon against the shadow walker stood before him.  

“Do you search for this?” There within her handkerchief covered grasp was the very tool he’d been told to arm himself with, the vampire tilting her head back. “You know what I am now, for you to be carrying the very item that could destroy me within your pockets.”  

Looking at her unflinchingly, the blue of his eyes burned cold through the amber of his eyelashes, taking a drag on his cigarette. “I do.”  

Puzzlement tugged at her grin. “But why? I pose no threat to you, John. I told you this.”  

The caution in him continued to amp, but swirling around it came a feeling of great juxtapose. His first encounter with her had been truly terrifying, appearing before him more beast than woman. As she stood mere inches from him now, there was a gentleness to her quite palpable, the feeling of a storm stilled, the raging rain and howling winds broken by glittering beams of sunshine. He kept the words of Polly and Tommy firmly in mind, though. 

“How’d you know my name?” 

“Your walls are thin, and vampire hearing is quite the thing.” Smiling, she watched as he mirrored it for a flicker of a second, his face swiftly altering, blankness stilling his features. She read him like a book, though. “Your aunt, she is incorrect.”  

“Yeah? What about?”  

“When she spoke of us being evil incarnate. I for one am not.”  

His soft snort was muffled by the blast furnace once again roaring, but she still heard it. He could have snorted in disbelief three streets away from her and the sound would still reach her ancient ears. “You tore four men to pieces last night. That counts as evil in my book.” 

“Then you are evil too, John Shelby. For the weapons you wield, the intent behind the bullets you direct at your enemies, or the razorblades within your cap intended to blind and maim. I could say we are the same.” She had him there, he had to concede. “I saved your life, there was a purpose to my slaying of the Rasmussen men. That, and I happened to be quite famished.”  

He sighed, flicking his cigarette away, returning the toothpick to his mouth. “Look, love. What the fuck do you want, eh?”  

She cocked her head, smiling, reaching for his cheek. “For you to be calm, John. All this coolness towards me is unneeded, I swear to you. I would also like for you to be a gentleman, escort me down to the public house and buy me a glass of wine. I am partial to a nice, dry red.” She held the letter opener forth, gesturing to it with a nod. “A show of faith. Take it. I trust you; I would like for you to trust me as well.” 

They shared a weighted silence, pulled in by one another’s gaze, the vampire speaking once again as her eyes toured him. “Gods, you are so strikingly handsome.” 

She watched as the confidence he carried himself within seemed to slip a little, his cheeks colouring a tad as he looked away for a moment, a tiny slither of shy disbelief fluttering through him.  

He looked back at her with a sniff, his shoulders bobbing lightly. “I ain’t bad.” There within the sharply dressed gangster, the man with the feared surname that preceded him, was the tiniest smidgen of boyish bashfulness. Oh, how she adored it.  

“So,” she began, eyes glittering at him through the gloom of the evening, “that drink?” 

The stroke of her fingernails against his cheek soothed him in a way he couldn’t explain, feeling himself pulled into the glacial vortex that was her eyes as he returned the letter opener to his pocket. “Alright.” He suddenly remembered Arthur’s reaction, coupled with the warnings of Tommy and Polly. “We can’t go in The Garrison, though.” 

“This is of little matter to me,” the vampire began, adjusting the black fur of her collar. “I much prefer The Brasshouse.” 

“You mean the place on Broad Street? Bit far, ain’t it?” 

She smiled, taking his arm. “Not too far at all. Now, hang on tight. We shall arrive in a jiffy.” Suddenly, he felt as if he’d been shot out of a canon, the air whirling past him at great acceleration, his feet finding the floor below after a few seconds. Looking up, he saw the doors of The Brasshouse to his left.  

“How... the fuck did you do that?”  

Her smile flashed a set of pearly white teeth. “You bared witness to the stealth that I move with. The Bentley Motor Company has nothing on me.” She took his arm again, his warmth delicious against her perpetually cool body. “Let us head inside, and perhaps I shall tell you more about myself. I sense you have many questions.” 

She absolutely wasn’t wrong.  

As he entered the cosy surroundings of the pub, with its long, polished oak bar, bare brick walls and tiled floor, he wondered whether he’d completely taken leave of his senses. There he was, escorting a vampire towards the bar, intent on purchasing her the dry red she had made it known she was partial to, against the grave warnings of his family. He was nothing if not a risk taker, though, a man who lived life in the moment, caution thrown to the wind.  

Imagine the stories he could tell his grandchildren; about the time he’d courted a vampire.  

Was it even courting, though? Perhaps such a notion was getting ahead of himself, John realising that for all the thrill seeking within his nature, he should still perhaps not throw his caution to the aforementioned wind entirely. After all, he still had no idea over her intentions towards him. 

“Large whiskey, Irish, and a dry red for the lady.” John instructed the barman, who nodded before bustling away to prepare their drinks.  

All around him, the eyes of the patrons were drawn to his companion, how much she stood out compared to the other female persons there present. Short hair styled in finger waves was all the rage, but the vampire couldn’t have been further from that, with her dark curls tumbling almost to her waist. The stares did not abate once they’d taken their seat in a booth, John noticing one man at the bar practically salivating over her. 

“Oi, mush. This ain’t a museum and she's not on display,” he barked, his frown deepening. “Put your fucking eyes back in your head.” 

The man scoffed, leaning back against the bar in a casual, unbothered manner. “And who are you to tell me what to do, eh lad?” 

“John Shelby.” 

At the mere mention of his famed surname, the man’s face dropped, picking up his drink and moving with his cohorts across the pub, John muttering beneath his breath. 

“That was very gallant of you, but I do not mind being stared at so much. I know that I am somewhat of a curious sight to behold,” she began, running her fingernail around the rim of her glass. “I do not look like other women.” 

His eyes roamed over her, pupils inking into the blue. “No, you don’t.”  

“And you enjoy that,” she asserted, her pretty lips curling, looking at him through the flirtatious flutter of her long eyelashes as she sipped her wine.  

On impulse, he reached forward, wiping the drip of Cabernet from her lip, bringing his thumb to his own mouth and sucking it momentarily. It made her shiver within. “I do,” he finally confirmed, his eyes not leaving hers for a second. Oh, how she loved a man who had the confidence to stare so unblinkingly at her. “Do I get to know your name?”  

“Brynhild.” 

He was taken aback a little. “That’s a strange name,” he began, eyes still fixed firmly on hers, so much so that she shuffled slightly in her seat. He was much too handsome for his own good. “No surname?”  

“It is a very old name. As for surname, I do, but it is not like a surname that is known today. My people used patronymics, and what that means is to combine the father’s name as the prefix, and then either son or dottir as the suffix. I am the daughter of Leif, so therefore my name is Brynhild Leifsdottir.” 

He was fascinated, if not a little confused, closing the gap between them as he leaned across the table. “I think I’m just going to call you Bryn.” 

Her laugh at his dryly delivered assertion tinkled through the air. “That is fine with me. I like that. Nobody has ever shortened it before.” 

“Who were your people? You sound foreign but I can’t place your accent. I’m a fucking clod with nationalities, geography an’ all that.”  

“No, no,” she assured, her hand pressing to his forearm for a moment. “You are correct, for even though my accent has softened, I am not English. I am Norse, or Norwegian. My people were Vikings.”  

His eyes all but fell out of his head. “What, as in the fellas who came over and terrorised a load of monks up north all them years ago?” 

“You say that you are, to use your term, a fucking clod with nationalities and geography, yet you know this correctly, John. Not as much of a clod as you think, hmm? You know your history, also.” 

He shrugged. “Me sister is a right bookworm, she rattled something off about it once and I remembered.” He paused, momentarily wetting his lips with a flick of his tongue. Again, she shivered internally. “I know it’s bloody rude, to ask a lady her age, but...” 

“One thousand and seventy-two. If I am to count my human years, then I am one thousand, one hundred and two years old.” She reached for his mouth, placing two fingers beneath his chin to close it after it had dropped open.  

“Fucking... hell.”  

“And you are?” 

He suddenly felt a little inferior to his companion, that tiny little show of bashfulness making an appearance once more. “Um, twenty-eight.”  

“Ahh, then if you are to discount my vampire years, we would not be so different. I had just turned thirty years of age when I was made what I now am.” His face remained a picture of wide-eyed incredulity. “Does my ancientness bother you?” 

“No, not at all. I’m just... bloody hell. The things you must have seen and learned in your time. Fuck.” He laughed softly, shaking his head in wonder. “You're fascinating, Bryn.” Their chemistry already mingled in the air like magical alchemy. 

She beamed, and he felt his pulse quicken. “You are very complimentary. What else do you wish to learn about me?” 

He sipped his whiskey, returning the tumbler to the table with a soft clunk. “Whatever you want to tell me, love.” He winked, taking her hand and laying a soft kiss to her cool fingers. It took all she had not to reach across the small space and plant her lips to his.  

Everything. She wanted to tell him everything as the blue of his eyes pulled her further to him, her usual aloofness banished to a place she could not reach to pull it back. Not that she wanted to. Bryn scarcely encountered humans who were quite a confident in themselves as John, especially in the face of all that she was. She knew he’d been afraid of her the night before, but that no longer seemed to linger within the body of the well-groomed, handsome young man. 

He was unfazed, he did not cower to her. She was the most powerful apex predator on earth, yet he treated her like a lady. It had been many years since she had experienced that. He’d watched her decapitate a man with her bare hands, he knew of her savagery, yet it dented neither his chivalry nor his flirtation as they fell into long conversation together.  

“To answer your question, yes, I can eat and drink, but they have no nourishing effect upon me. I could drink every last drop of alcohol within this public house also, and it would not affect my equilibrium. I do so merely for the pleasure when it takes me, and to blend in. A woman at a dinner party pushing her meal around with a glass that never empties draws attention, the type I do not always wish to receive. All the food in the world could vanish and I would not be concerned, for truly I only need the blood of humans to survive. Animal blood works too, but not as well. We weaken without our life’s source.”  

John listened keenly as she talked, remaining mostly silent as the evening passed by, his eyes darting to the large clock in the corner every so often, willing it to tick backwards. He’d been there with her for four hours, and he wished for nothing more than another four to follow. “What else about being a vampire make you different from humans?” 

She was only too happy to share that, but there were some secrets she would keep back. Even when in the company of a man who she viewed with as keen interest as she did John, she never gave everything up at once. “My speed, which you have witnessed. My strength is boundless, too. I could – and have – uproot a tree by pushing it, for example. I could also hold a car up one handed and throw a grown man across the room with a mere shove of my hand into his chest.”  

His eyes sparkled. “You’ve done that, ain’t ya?” 

Leaning close, she licked her top lip momentarily, her grin broadening. “Too many times to count.” She paused, cocking her head slightly. “You know exactly what I am and yet, you do not fear me.” 

His shrug was light, finishing his drink. “There’s no point. If you wanted me dead, I’d be gone within a blink, I suppose. It was like being scared when I went to France. If I thought about it too much, then I wouldn’t have been able to do what I was there for and defend me country.” His eyes seemed to dull a little, John clearing his throat before offering a candidness he seldom ever uttered. “It did scare me, though. If I let it.”  

The war hadn’t affected him quite like it had Tommy, John’s perpetual cheer and effervescence shining through the shadows left behind by the harrowing darkness of war. Only very, very occasionally did the Flanders blues bother him. 

She placed her hand atop his, John moving his thumb out from under hers, stroking the soft skin just below her first knuckle. “Anybody who claims not to have felt fear in battle is a liar. I remember it well, thought it was so very long ago.” 

“Some kind of vampire war?” he asked curiously, Bryn shaking her head. 

“No, John. When I was human. I was what is known as a shieldmaiden. I fought side by side upon the battlefield with my Viking brethren. I became extremely adept in burying my axe in the heads of many an Englishman.” 

He looked very impressed at that revelation. “So, what you’re telling me is that you’ve spent your entire existence basically being a fucking killing machine?” 

Her lips pinched as she tried not to find his words as entertaining as she did. Oh, he was such a lovable rouge. Not many would brush off that kind of information, let alone turn it into a joke. “I suppose I have, yes. I tend to be a little more sedate in my penchant for slaughter at my age, though. With age comes a gentleness not seen in younger of my kind. We ah, find a little of our humanity again, you could say.” He fixed her with a comic look of disbelief, raising his eyebrows aloft. “Except for last night, that is.” 

“Decapitation ain’t really sedate or gentle, love.” he hummed, laughing when she finally began to, dropping her gaze for a few moments, beginning to swirl a curl around her finger. “Got ya there, ain’t I?” 

This man, oh, this charming, playful man. He made her feel like a girl again, not an ancient creature of the night, not a barbaric shieldmaiden. Just Brynhild. Just Bryn. “Yes, John. Yes, you do.”  

On they continued to chatter, until last orders were called, John in no hurry to leave as he bought another round of drinks.  

“How much, gaffer, to keep this place open just for the lovely lady and I?”  

The landlord looked a little apprehensive, until he saw the size of the roll of banknotes produced, John beginning to peel them off. He raised his eyebrows questioningly, thumbing away a couple more.  

“That’ll be sufficient, sir. Got to keep it quiet, though, lights off. I’ll fetch some candles.” When it was just John, Bryn and the man who facilitated their elongated stay within the cosy surroundings of The Brasshouse, he finally broached the question that had been at the back of his mind the entire night. 

He kept his tones hushed, moving to her side so that they could share conversation that would not reach earshot of the landlord, sat at the other end of the pub next to the gramophone. “So, why did you do it, then? Take out the Rasmussen fellas, that is.” 

She nodded knowingly, lacing her fingers together before her. “I knew that you would bring the conversation back to that eventually. I suppose it is only fair that I reveal my intentions, especially after the lovely evening you have treated me to.” She was not short of a bob or two, but John had not allowed her to put her hand into her purse once.  

Drawing herself up a little, Bryn began. “I will start by revealing that I initially sought out your family for the purposes of alliance only, but then I witnessed you and felt my cunt do whatever the cunt version of a backflip is, so I will be completely honest there. I have interest in an alliance, and in addition to that, I now have interest in you.” She paused a moment while John’s mirth displayed itself in a long snort before he laughed hard. When women were unexpectedly crass, it never ceased to entertain him. 

“There is an old saying, John. The enemy of my enemy is my friend, and gods, the Rasmussen’s are my enemies of the highest order. What they are, they are not merely a criminal enterprise. They are vampire hunters, their lineage spanning longer than mine. From one generation to the next, they have stalked me through the shadows for centuries, after what it is within me that fuels them. You must have noticed by now that they are much stronger than your average person, yes?” 

John nodded, allowing her to continue. “This is because they drink of our blood. In doing so, it will give a human some of the attributes of the vampire they have drank of. Sharper senses, speed, strength and stamina. You can imagine, can you not, the attributes they would gain if they managed to seize me. They would become unstoppable.” 

He looked thoughtful, absorbing her words. “S’cuse me if this sounds like I’m being a thick headed Brummie twat, but what advantage does an alliance with us give you? You’re ancient and powerful. We might be gangsters but still, we’re fucking feeble compared to you.”  

The admission of his lesser strength to her made something unpleasant prickle his insides, but John was no fool even in the face of such inner concession. He could not deny that while he himself sat very high upon the ladder of intimidation, Bryn was perched right upon the top rung. 

“Daylight, John. You have the daylight, whereas I do not. My home, all of my homes, in fact, have been well fortified against break in. This does not mean it cannot still happen, though.” She closed her eyes for a moment, remembering, her fangs snapping out within her closed mouth as the pain danced in her memories. Making them recede, she continued.  

“When residing at my home in London, I am guarded during the daytime by men under the employment of one Alfie Solomons. I believe you are acquainted with him. I offer an exchange basis. I pay most handsomely for such services.”  

He still looked a tad confused. “I think I’m missing something here. Why can’t you just go kill ‘em all? Ain’t like you’re not strong enough to do that.”  

“It matters not how strong I am. The Rasmussen family is great in number, as I am sure you have deduced by now. Their dwellings are well fortified against vampire attack especially, for they know the marks they have had upon their heads by others of my kind. This has not changed throughout history. They have always bred plentifully to remain in good numbers and thus further their cause. I cannot risk happening again what their ancestors put me through.”  

He almost didn’t want to ask, watching the pain swirl in her eyes, the way her nose crinkled slightly, the tightness in her jaw. “What did they do to you, Bryn?” 

Reaching for her wine, she gulped the rest back, wishing alcohol still had a soothing effect on her. “Took me prisoner for over a hundred years.” 

John might not have known about vampires for a long period of time at all, but what he did, he knew that perhaps it stung her pride greater than he could ever imagine to confess such weakness. As he covered her hand with his, he knew on an instinctual level that this rare and radiant woman was one he wanted to pledge his protection to.  

Whether his family would agree was a different matter altogether. 

[margotoo0]

◇ Huge Sukuna headcanon AU ◇ (cuz I'm crazy)

English is not my native language. It was originally written in Russian, so it is very difficult to translate it correctly, since there are a lot of slangs. And I’m also talking damn nonsense, that’s why.

DO NOT TAKE EVERYTHING WRITTEN SERIOUSLY!!! THIS ALL WAS WRITTEN WHEN THE AUTHOR WAS UNDER METH!!!♡♡♡♡♡

I hope you stay alive and read this to the end.

AU! Our time

Well, what... About the base?

◇About 40-45 years old, mentally - all 70.. (he just tired) No wife, no family, everything is according to the canon.

◇It’s worth paying a little attention to his appearance (Kukukhuhuh):

1) I’ve seen a lot of art on AU Sukuna (I’ve seen a lot, a lot...), I really liked the theme with the patch on the right eye, so let’s take note. Most likely, either he has some problems since birth (Ehehe.. Let’s leave the topic of an unwanted child due to a congenital pathology?))), or he successfully lost it in one of the stabbings (that’s how he met Uraume..)

2) Huge bruises under the eyes. With age, wrinkles also appeared there. The eyes are sleepy, sometimes capillaries burst.

3) His skin is rough and rough. A common problem is peeling; in winter it’s completely out of whack.

4) AQUILINE NOSE (big noses, I like big noses..)

5) He is tall. Very. 190+ exactly. But this is not just a cruise ship, it’s a whole tank. The same guy who is the envy of all natural jocks. Something between a mesomorph, and maybe even an endomorph. The fact itself: there is a lot of muscle, but not dry. In all the right places, as they say...Ahhhhh. I won’t write you the muscle mass ratio and fat percentage, sorry. Where did it come from? Well, look at his true uniform. (Moreover, there were jokes on the Internet that he was on a mass gain after the illustration for the exhibition came out. Eh...They just didn’t deserve him, they were jealous) A strong, good man, I give it a like, without a ticket to my bed. You can consider yourself to have won the genetic lottery. Little nasty bug.

6) It’s obvious that in some places there are scars (a scar on the stomach, where his mouth is, according to the canon), burns... There’s all sorts of things there, in fact.

7) Tattoo? YES!

8) I also saw a couple of heads on Sukuna the boxer, he was included in the heavyweight category. I COMPLETELY AGREE, THIS IS A FACT.

9) In general, he is a typical cat-person. Like..he is so tiger 🐅

10) He also squints often. His gaze is empty, but in his head there is a whole construction site.

====

Okay, I didn’t come up with anything else about appearance, you can figure it out for yourself. Let's go big already.

◇Philosophy of life? Sukuna adheres to that same “hedonism”, EGOISM, that everyone somehow misses when they talk about Sukuna’s philosophy. He doesn’t believe in your metaphysics; sometimes nihilistic tendencies slip through.

◇Remember his hobby? FOOD. And this thing has been preserved. He doesn’t deny himself anything, an ever-meat diet. Proper nutrition? Diets? Wtf, what? He don't know what. But he’s also an eater, he won’t eat everything, he’s very selective. High quality, three Michelin stars. (In general, the topic here is this... In the Heian era, he ate people, right? So, he mainly gave preference to the meat of women and children, since their meat is more tender due to a higher percentage of fat than that of men. Juicy, to be honest)

◇Eh...Would he be Hannibal Lector? Would you eat human flesh? Answer this question yourself. But it's interesting.

◇He has a very specific taste in food

◇What does he do in life? OHHOHO, SO. This is where the juice begins.

Please just keep in mind that this is all a fat joke.

◇We all know very well that Sukuna loves battles, fights, fighting, wars... He loves physical contact very much. Because of this, there is a head that Sukuna could have been involved in wrestling, in particular, boxing or jujitsu, but I have an opinion that Sukuna simply would not have lasted long, or would not have started a career at all. Well, how...

1) If we assume that he was actually involved in wrestling at one time, then his “career” ended after the first major championship at the age of about 20-25 years. In short, everything is simple: during the first round he almost killed his opponent (HAHAHAA), it came to resuscitation. Of course, Sukuna is a tough fighter, but no one expected such meanness. How was he even allowed in? Well, we thought about making money, but Sukuna’s adrenaline was stronger. He never returned to the ring. By some miracle he was not convicted (or rather... They wanted to, but Sukuna was faster). By the way, it must be said that this is not the first time Sukuna has smeared someone on the floor. But for some reason he always got away with it. It didn’t work out here... He wasn’t very upset, to be honest.

Did you think that he would receive penalties cards? No. There are 100% problems with the law. I just decided not to do hardcore.

2) From here I could already talk about the second half of his cheerful life, but I must say that Sukuna, I think, would not go into big sports at all, since it requires a lot of organization, and besides, a lot restrictions. Even MMA is NOT fighting without rules. Elementary. Sukuna has very good stamina, as well as willpower, it’s just... He couldn’t get enough of it. He doesn’t chase fame and success, he’d like to get a thrill from a fight. You can’t just leave training, you can’t do this, you can’t do that. He is simply an excellent virtuoso and improviser who adapts perfectly to the situation, BUT! Only if he WANTS it.

There is a very simple formula: "I can, but I don’t want to. I'm lazy, I'm not interested." Sukuna is not an organized person at all, and if he behaves like this, it is clearly not in good deeds.

3) You can skip this part, but I liked this idea. First I came up with it myself, then I also found headcanons with JJK teachers, everything coincided.

◇It seems to me that Sukuna could become an excellent historian, I don’t know why.. The topic is this: as a cover, he could randomly choose a profession (purely because his history was going well, but he had already improved his dorm life, when he was detained in the police stations for several days)

◇He doesn’t believe in God, but God believes in him, so Sukuna passed the exams well. As I say, he very smart and capable, if only I had the desire.

◇ I’ll quickly go over it:

1) I didn’t want to teach at a university, but at a college - why not. He doesn't like teenagers, but he likes to mock them.

2) He is constantly late for lectures. He swore at his directors when they put the history first. As a result, on Thursday the history is only 50 minutes long.

3) We must give him credit, he talks SO INTERESTINGLY, it’s just crazy. Here you will either listen with your mouth open, or fall asleep to his voice (sorry, I couldn’t resist, phew. In this case, he will come up and knock on the head, like “Who’s there?”) 😭😭😭 (AZAHAZPH)

4) He talks like he went to Moscow with Napoleon, then he judged the Decembrists, then he was in Petrograd at the revolution, then he and Stalin thought about how to defeat the browns, and he also sat together with Goering at Nuremberg... I think there’s no need to even mention the process of battles in the Second World War. He wrote everything down in a notebook while he was in the trench. In general, it's tough.

5) Despite all the charm of the above, he has a terrible memory for dates, so even his students don’t bother with it.

6) Do you want a test? Buy him an expensive bottle of red wine, then he MAYBE will consider your offer (yes, of course he will, he’s just showing off, he’s not interested in that at all)

7) After the first month, the students began to suspect something. You know, mysterious, like a perfume set (russian proverb). Like that same physical education teacher who always hangs out in the back room (local joke...). The smart ones guess, but the smartest ones have already made inquiries, they just remain silent, since Sukuna, in fact, is respected and feared by teenagers (in a good way). It’s a pity that the love is not particularly mutual...Uh.

In general, you understand. But what does he do anyway? He became a teacher in order to divert attention from himself. Decent citizen, but is just some kind of grouch <3

It's time for us to go into his natural environment. Crime)

Here everything is based on:

1. Pleasure, risk

2. Money. Just to live large.

It all started with Uraume (here also Uraume is “they”, so you can consider it either a man or a woman. Whatever you want). According to the canon, Uraume is a cook. It’s the same here, but with a surprise.. In general, Uraume “cooks”, and in Russian, he makes interesting preparations...)))(EMHAJAJAJJAAHPA0, WHAT IS THE PLOT OF “BREAKING BAD”, AZAHAHAHCH I’M DEAD Okay, just give me a chance)

◇Sukuna knew his comrades so well that he learned about Ura’s affairs only after 8-9 years of acquaintance (Forgive him).

◇In short, Uraume cooks well, and also studied at the chemistry department. Uraume had a purely monetary question; they didn’t use their own product (and I don’t advise you to, otherwise you’ll later invent such garbage like I did)

◇ – What is this? - What do you think? Sukuna narrowed his eyes. - And you decided not to tell me about it? - And I didn’t hide it. Just why extra attention to yourself? There was silence in the room. - Listen... - Sukuna, don't- - LET ME FINISH. ◇ Uraume had no options.

◇Every drug dealer needs his own "sportik" (This is what we call those who punish or kill people who hide drugs). Well, you understand, right...?

◇Well, that’s how it started to spin and spin. Moreover, it was Sukuna who opened the doors to the darkest places. Accordingly, he himself stood up very quickly, and even the dog would not dare to growl. Hello, black market. The only problem is hiding all this from the police + there is not enough imagination on how to launder the money, but the business itself is going well and wonderful. Sukuna also managed to be a hired killer in the dark spaces. He lives a very happy life, he likes it. Finally able to use fighting skills. Hooray.

◇ Sukuna once even showed interest in “cooking” while watching Uraume. You will be shocked, but he does a great job. Wow.

◇Well, not really. It seems to me that Sukuna is either a pure humanist, or with an admixture of biology and chemistry (everything was reinforced there along the way). But algebra, geometry, physics - well, no. I was ready to fight to the death with one guy from the faculty of Physics and Mathematics, because they stood and proved what is generally more important in life. I think his name was Gojo...I don't know.

◇ The only thing he can do from this is count money and interest.

◇The same person who will walk into the room, be silent for 5 minutes, and then sigh and “I, you know, what I think...”. He will tell you the whole course of philosophy, and then he will also express his opinion. I advise you to remain silent, not breathe loudly and listen carefully.

◇Law of the universe: if Sukuna is nearby, then with a 99% probability something will fall, break... Or maybe someone...

◇ Law of the universe: if Sukuna is nearby, then with a 99% probability something will fall, break, or break. Or maybe someone..

◇MAKE IT TO THE HIGH FASHION! He really knows how to dress with taste. You can’t tell from him, since Sukuna, like Tyler Durden, destroys everything, but he still understands art, aesthetics and style. And you will find out this in a completely unexpected way.

◇“Combining green and yellow in the interior? What squalor...”

“Mmm... Like Baroque”

◇Prefers dark and deep colors: black, burgundy, red, emerald, purple, ocher, etc.

◇ He loves Japanese painting on clothes, although most often he wears plain ones. But he has one or two kimonos. How is this painting technique... Yuzen?

◇Despite the fact that he has large hands and fingers, he has well-developed fine motor skills (a useful skill))

◇Doesn’t go to the GYM and makes fun of those who go there. Real men should knock out brains and teeth! (He just somehow saw that Gojo and Yuji’s change were going to the gym. That’s where it came from)

◇He, of course, could become some kind of powerlifter, since his physical capabilities allows it, but he doesn’t want to. Does he even want anything other than to kill and ruin the lives of others? (NO)

◇He met Kenjaku through Uraume

◇Sukuna calls Kenjaku a freak and a pervert (f*cked, to be more precise) because of his strange humor (Believe me, Sukuna is not far off, like...Kenjaku jokes about necr0philia, and Sukuna about cannibalism)

◇ I sleep and see: two grandfathers are sitting and trying to tell jokes. Only Uraume is unfunny...

◇Sukuna has some problems with sleep, and it doesn’t matter whether he sleeps a lot or a little, 3 hours or 12. He often dozes. (Sleepy kitty)

◇ Head from school: Sukuna had no friends at all before college, and there’s no point in talking about friends. One against all, all against one. In the last year of study, he changed place of study because he almost threw a classmate out of the window, and he also received a concussion.

◇He hated team games. Do you get upset when you are accused of playing poorly and causing your team to lose? Pf. In the first few games, Sukuna deliberately threw the ball anywhere, and he himself took it away from his team, passing it to another. And it makes no difference which team.

◇ He was not respected, he was feared. And rightly so, they were afraid. He could really kill

◇In fact, his social skills are poorly developed, he simply does not consider it necessary. In college, he got involved with Uraume, and that was enough for him. Cosy.

◇By the way, according to the canon there is no wife or children, it’s the same story. We must pay tribute - he did not touch women, unless he killed them when it was necessary for “work”. Sukuna himself is a very attractive man, but 85% of women were afraid of him, the remaining 15% tried to somehow flirt with him, start communicating, but Sukuna 🤨��️ then showed such contempt that these women developed complexes for the rest of their lives.

◇ He never took call women (prost|tute), he is above that. He generally has the vibe “woman, keep your hands to yourself”, “don’t embarrass yourself” ◇ He can respect you if:

A) You are very smart

B) You are very strong

C) A and B together

He will definitely praise you if he finds you something interesting about you and your business (unless you are Yuji)

◇You can challenge him, just don’t be too stubborn, keep silent again, otherwise your new accessory will become a crutch.

◇I remembered the phrase of one man: “It doesn’t matter whether you are a woman or a man, I will beat you the same way.” This is he.

◇HE DOESN'T CARE ABOUT ANYONE. This is a constant. Will never take responsibility for another person. The only thing he will do is solve Uraume's problems, or just see how people cope. Independence is the key to a good relationship with Sukuna.

◇Content is content, but let's be honest, according to the canon, Sukuna is a very selective frame. This one is boring and not interesting, but this one is weak, and this one is annoying. In general, you won't please. I don't believe that Sukuna could fall in love with someone at all. It's amazing how most of the people here portray him in fanfiction. Well, he wouldn’t start this “subdue and rule” thing, he would immediately take your head off your shoulders. You should be on an equal footing with him, if not superior. Of course, he will fight for dominance, but he definitely values both physical and mental strength. In this regard, absolutely adequate and objective. The most important thing is to have something to praise for. And when someone crawl on their knees in front of him...Why the hell do you doing, you rag? We figured it out.

◇ At one time he used headphones very often, almost 24/7. Moreover, he turned it on purely for the background, without any purpose.

◇In general, he has no goals, only a path. And he does the right thing.

◇Frequent periods of “I don’t want anything, I won’t do anything.”

◇He has 2 states: either he does nothing AT ALL, sits on his ass, or he is a nightmare to everything and everyone.

◇He knows how to speak civilly, but only during some important negotiations. He himself is taciturn, sometimes he makes some obscene remarks. But once every few months he can give out some beautiful poetic remark. You hit the jackpot (“Moonlight helps me to see better how pathetic you are.” Oh, what a romantic)

◇He doesn’t like sweets, but it seems to me that he would like oriental sweets..Turkish delight)

◇A fan of Japanese and Kazakh food

◇He smells of "oldspice", heavy cologne, tobacco and sweat.

◇If he were an animal, he would definitely be a tiger. One big cat. Predatory, but with grace. Just like that.

◇He rarely responds to messages, but if he does, he gives out such a bunch of text, just so that you get tired of reading it all. He writes very quickly. But then again, in real life he's just quiet and grumpy.

◇A bunch of bad habits. It’s just one bad habit (but we’re not going to give it up, right?)

◇Gege Akutami once mentioned that he liked the performance of K-POP group MAMAMOO, in particular, Hwasa was the main shock. In short, if Yuji likes Jennifer Lawrence, then Sukune’s fatal luxury is Hwasa (I just really love this woman myself). He doesn’t listen to K-pop, he just likes her (hips don’t lie, friends..)

◇He would listen to either rock/heavy metal. I can also bet on darkwave, experimental, or maybe something with traditional Japanese motifs. Or maybe even a classic. Who knows..

◇He constantly carries all sorts of chewing gum with him.

◇It seems to me that he is one of those very people to whom you will say: “I went *somewhere*”, will not glance at you, and will remain sitting on the sofa. But after 30 minutes of your journey you will feel that something is wrong..(he is trailing behind you). Cause? He's bored.

◇ His main mission in life is to scare people until their hearts stop. No, just imagine: you’re standing in the kitchen, not bothering anyone, and suddenly a 2-meter big guy squints and slowly picks up a knife. And then he begins to walk towards you with a medium step. Your actions? (Spoiler: subway surf begins) And for realism, it will even leave a cut on your back. <33333 I luv this man sm

◇He clearly has some kind of jokes with physical contact. Pinches, pokes. Bruises are guaranteed.

◇110% organized all sorts of underground fight clubs.

That's all. The fantasy is over. I caught the cringe and laughed. It was fun and enjoyable.

Thanks

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

(Genshin Impact) Ayaka, Ei, Yae, and Lisa with an author S/O

Ayaka understands S/O penning their name anonymously.

Having that much attention on you is potentially dangerous, but most of all it's just tiring. Ayaka honors her vow of silence to not tell anyone who writes one of the best selling light novels.

Ayaka doesn't get to read for pleasure often, so out of curiosity she picks up their light novels.

She's usually the first one who gets rough drafts of S/O's current works. Ayaka is quite the fan!

Though sometimes, she can tell S/O wrote a character after her likeness, which gets her all kind of red in the face.

But it's strange. They produce some of the best works, yet are always lazing around, not doing anything.

(Ayaka) "S/O, are you not writing tonight?"

(S/O) "Eh. Maybe later."

That's the usual answer she gets. Perhaps writing motivation comes in bursts?

At this point she suspects that the reason they stay anonymous is so they don't have to exert more energy than they have to.

S/O uses the excuse of cuddling with her and falling asleep, which she doesn't hate, but it's not exactly the most productive thing they could be doing.

Ei is quite curious about S/O's writing. Not only is it her lover's light novel, but it's also a glimpse of what the people of Inazuma are currently into.

She doesn't quite understand why S/O wants to remain anonymous. Wouldn't you want everyone to read your works?

Ei won't bring it up if S/O doesn't.

She always has S/O close by to explain the things she doesn't understand.

(Ei) "Why are so many people interested in being transported elsewhere?"

Ei also notices S/O tends to stick with her a lot longer when they have something to write.

She doesn't mind, but it's a little weird.

(Ei) "S/O, should you not be writing?"

(S/O) "I can do that later. I need to answer all your questions after all."

(Ei) "Very well."

Maybe this is how authors this day and age act. How considerate.

Yae completely understands wanting to not deal with the people of the Light Novel community while being low energy at all times.

She lets S/O loiter around to keep her company and talk about whatever new series has come out recently to poke fun or talk its praises about.

Her publishing house of course publishes their novels. But not because S/O is her lover, but because they actually deserve to get published.

If their works falter even in the slightest in quality, she refuses to put the rubbish out there. But she does find it really funny though.

It depends on her mood if she indulges S/O or gets them off their butt to actually write their current work.

(Yae) "Have you noticed this transporting to another world genre has been on the rise lately? I know fads come and go, but it is remarkably stubborn this year..."

(S/O) "Frankly, I don't get the appeal."

(Yae) "But you don't normally see the appeal of most things, S/O. Working for instance.-"

(S/O) "Shush."

Lisa loves reading, so when S/O told her that they wrote light novels, she was ecstatic to read them.

She had read pretty much everything in the Library, so adding a few new ones to the shelf was a welcome change!

Something she's quick to notice is how tired S/O is, and they usually try to sidestep doing their work.

Lisa half gets it though. Why do it today when you can do it tomorrow?

She'll try to lightly encourage S/O to get the novel over with so they can get back to relaxing faster. It's what she does when she has work after all.

But sometimes it can't be helped. She'll get a chair and cup of tea ready to let S/O procastinate in the library.

(Lisa) "Oh, look at that, it's raining. You don't want to get the pages wet, right dear? How about you keep me company for a while?"

(S/O) "It'll be raining all day."

(Lisa) "Then looks like we'll be together all day. A shame."

(S/O) "Hah, what a shame indeed. Pass the sugar?"